Ophelia and I had met during my very brief stint as a dominatrix. She’d been training me, but I quickly discovered I wasn’t well suited to the stress of being a dominant. I didn’t have the right instincts for it. And I didn’t have the pain tolerance to be a pro sub because it meant being on the receiving end of spankings day in and day out.
At the time, I was stretched too thin, working my way through cooking school and getting as much restaurant experience as I could. I didn’t have time to work another minimum wage job for enough hours to pay my bills. I needed something with high pay, flexible hours, and a small time commitment. The dungeon seemed to fit all of those requirements perfectly.
When it turned out not to be a good fit, I freaked because I was counting on the money. Ophelia helped me to get into escorting using the Key Club channels instead, which was much more my speed.
I started as an escort because I needed the money, but quickly discovered I loved it more than cooking most days. Making a meal that blew someone’s mind was satisfying, but escorting was so much more personal, more impactful to the people who were hiring me. I was in high enough demand that if I didn’t have a good time with a client, I simply didn’t see them again, which meant I refined my regulars until they were all people who respected me and the service I provided.
I managed to pay my way through cooking school while moonlighting as an escort without having to take on any loans. I even had enough saved to start my first restaurant when I was ready, but with Bill’s help was able to dream big. Most of the time, I not only made great money, I thrived on the work.
Even after I started the restaurant and then expanded my business, I’d picked up the occasional escort client when I needed an escape from my real life, a hit of that liberating power.
Until Nate.
“Does he know?” Ophelia asked, watching me closely.
Does he know you used to be a sex worker?
She wasn’t judging. She was still a lawyer by day and a dominatrix on the side.
I let out a deep breath. “Kind of? He didn’t really want to know.”
I hadn’t told him when we first got together because it’s an awkward thing to slide in on a first date. And then it was going well, so I didn’t want to ruin it if he reacted badly. I kept delaying because it didn’t seem important if I wasn’t doing it while I was with him, but then it had been so long it felt weird to bring it up.
“I blurted it out last Christmas when we were in Aspen. He told me we all make mistakes when we’re young and that he knows I’m not that person anymore.”
Ophelia set her drink on the table and cocked her head at me. “How magnanimous of him to forgive you for having been a dirty whore in a past life.” She gestured wildly, making me glad she’d put the drink down first. “And you justlet that stand?”
We don’t have to tell anyone else.
He’d patted my hand reassuringly as he said it, but his meaning was clear.
Don’ttell anyone else.
I wasn’t ashamed of it. How could something I took pride in have become a dirty secret?
If I married him, did that mean I’d never escort again? I’d only have sex with Nate...for the rest of my life? I needed time to think about the tidal wave of feelings that thought unleashed.
I told myself I hadn’t stopped escorting because of him, but the truth was an ugly thing curled up inside of me. I always swore I wouldn’t give it up because of a partner, but that’s exactly what happened. It felt easier to just neuter that part of myself for the sake of not rocking the boat because Nate would never be okay with it.
“It’ll be fine.” I grabbed another random full champagne glass from the table and downed it.
“Act normal,” Ophelia hissed, then proceeded to act awkward as fuck, whistling and looking around like a cartoon character.
Nate was back from the bathroom. He kissed me on the forehead and made a beeline for the stage.
Oh God. He’s not just going to propose tonight. He’s gonna do it with an audience. Does this man not know me at all?
Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to prevent him from speaking once he reached the microphone. A surprise was bad enough, but now it was a surprise with three hundred people watching my reaction.
I took Ophelia’s martini with shaking hands and chugged it down in three brutal swallows.
A memory of the first man to propose to me popped into my head and I banished it.
Focus, Maia. You love Nate. You want to be the girl who wants to marry him. You’ve worked hard to build that life for yourself. None of the rest of this matters. You can laugh about his terrible proposal every anniversary.
He tapped the mic and an expectant hush fell over the crowd.
Nate smiled, looking a little awkward onstage. “I know it’s in poor taste to steal attention from the bride and groom on their special day, but I’ve got their blessing to sing a little something for you all tonight.”
