8 Sex Workers Share The Story Of How They Fell In Love With A Client

Flickr / John Verive
Flickr / John Verive
Found on AskReddit.

1. I married my strip club stalker.

“I worked in strip clubs all through college. A guy came in one day, sat down. His waitress asked him what he wanted; he pointed at me and said, ‘her.’

Then he came in to my work four days a week for seven months until I finally went out with him. He was in a sexless arranged marriage to his first cousin.

So one slow day at work this Britney Spears-obsessed Russian stripper is being a total bitch—so I approach my stalker and say I’ll go out with him if he’ll take me to the upcoming Britney Spears concert. Sure enough, he gets amazing tickets and I get to throw that in bitchy Russian stripper’s face. Thing is, we had a lot of fun, never really stopped hanging out, got married, and now it’s been over a decade.

Tldr: married my strip club stalker.”


2. He is one of the kindest people I have ever met and treats me better than any dude I have ever been involved with.

“He was a regular of mine (cam girl) who was always extremely generous and respectful & always bought long shows at a premium rate immediately, which by default made him one of my favorites. During shows we always just talked; I didn’t even get naked or anything. I started thinking about him outside of work and at a certain juncture no longer felt right charging him just to talk. We live in the same city so I slipped him my personal contact info and he got in touch and we met up, great chemistry and all that. He is one of the kindest people I have ever met and treats me better than any dude I have ever been involved with. I absolutely adore him.

I will say that it’s pretty uncommon for sex workers to date their clients, but not unheard of obviously. If you are wondering about someone in particular, wait for her to make the first move rather than pressuring her for contact outside the confines of what you’re paying her for.”


3. Looking for a white picket fence.

“Was a male BDSM escort. Met my husband of three years and fell in love. He stopped buying escorts and I stop escorting. I became a teacher and husband became a stay-at-home dad. Looking for a white picket fence.”


4. Within a month I fell in love with him. And we’ve been together for about two years now.

“Long story short I’m a cam model was living with my abusive ex-BF about 1200 miles away from family. He had control on my finances and maxed out all my credit cards so I couldn’t leave. I dumped him and he completely ignored that and basically said he’d kill himself if I left.

I had a regular online who chatted every day and he used to buy private shows just to sit and talk with me while he drank some beer and ate chips. Minutes turned to hours, and eventually we would talk for 4hrs a night online because I had to make money and my BF/ex (whatever he was) completely ignored me for his Xbox. So I just said fuck it and enjoyed time with my regular shooting the shit. He’d send me money on Google Wallet so I could go get McDonald’s or whatever for dinner (it was across the street).

My ex was getting violent and he ended up dragging me across the floor by my bra, giving me rug burn and whatnot. He also broke my cell phone by flushing it. So I couldn’t call the cops.

I talked to my regular about it and he offered to help. I accepted some money so I could purchase a burner phone.

My ex ended up getting upset over something stupid while I was showering (I took too long). And flat-out tried to push me out the front door only wearing a robe, no bra/undies, etc. I pushed my way back inside and finally convinced him to let me put on clothes and told him I’d leave. I got some clothes on, managed to grab my phone, wallet, glasses, and a phone charger, and as I walked out he punched me in the jaw/face.

I immediately called up my regular and told him I had to leave and that I was done putting up with my ex’s shit. He sent me 500 dollars on Google Wallet and told me I could buy a flight home or a flight to where he is and get out.

I was unable to face my mom because my ex outed my being a cam model to my mom and basically told her I was a prostitute. So I was scared of seeing her.

So I took a big leap said fuck it I could’ve died staying with my ex anyway and flew to meet my regular. It was scary but I had nowhere to go but up since I hit rock bottom.

When I got there he took me out for dinner and then to Walmart and bought me all new clothes, shoes, deodorant, etc. Because I had nothing with me my ex didn’t let me take anything.

He also bought me a laptop and webcam so I could work online and make some money to get on my feet.

Within a month I fell in love with him. And we’ve been together for about two years now.”


5. It was near perfect, the sex was great, she was beautiful, we got paid to fuck on the Internet—what could go wrong?

“Was an Adult Male Actor for quite a few years and did a lot of filming/modeling with an independent model, who we’ll call Amber (not her real name, obviously). We SOMEWHAT fell in love and started dating.

We met through a very specific site when she was looking for a very specific sort of male for a M-dom/F-sub relationship for her videos. I ‘applied’ and uh, ‘Got the Job.’ We went on a few ‘Dates’ to get to know each other, and to be honest both of us absolutely fell for each other—for who the other was more than for anything sexual about the relationship. It was near perfect, the sex was great, she was beautiful, we got paid to fuck on the Internet, what could go wrong? Well she got a pretty serious offer for an underwear modeling job and she took it, which resulted in her having to move to the Midwest. We were both pretty upset, but I’m happy for her. We somewhat fell apart and don’t see eye to eye on anything anymore. She became an incredibly well known cosplayer and I became a pretty well known musician. While I’m not disgusted by my past, she wanted to get rid of every piece of evidence that she ever worked in porn/adult modeling, which meant blocking me on just about every website possible except Skype. I think she’s engaged now, last time I checked she was in a happy relationship with some dude who she’s leagues above, lol. Nonetheless, I’m really happy for her and where her career ended up. She deserved the happiness.”


6. Fell madly in love. Got abused, raped, got my heart shattered to dust, and was given an incurable STD.


I was a camgirl for four years between the ages of 20-24. I originally worked for a smaller website that had a strict ‘No exchanging numbers or social media with patrons’ policy. I thought ‘pshh, no biggie, why would I do that?’ Two years into it I switch to MyFreeCams. Anything goes on MFC. That site apparently has churned out some marriages.

Anyway, for the whole of my cam career I was desperately lonely and began having phone friendships with clients. This worked to ease my loneliness and also helped strengthen my bond with clients. Win/win I thought! I continue to have friendships with a few of them.

One day I met a guy who seemed heaven-sent. He was exactly my type, blue eyes and chiseled cheeks. He was very sweet and it wasn’t long before we were on the phone together for 4-5 hours each night. One day he brought up meeting and I hesitantly said yes. This was after about 3 months of nightly phone marathons.

He arrived the day before my 24th birthday. He had bought me an emerald necklace. He was extremely shy and nervous. The whole day it seemed like he had something he wanted to tell me but couldn’t find the words. After he got back to his hotel room that night he called to apologize for his nervousness which he claimed was simply that. The next day he took me on a picnic in the park and seemed so much ‘lighter.’ We had a great picnic and it was one of the best birthdays, if not the best birthday, of my life. From that day on he was all I could think about. Cue several months of late-night phone calls and hotel bangathons. I felt, for the first time in my life, that I was not alone. After about 4 months of this he moved to my state to be with me.

Everything was great for about 6 months, or at least as great as I had ever experienced up until that point. Eventually his tone shifted with me. He became jealous and paranoid, and withdrew affection until I quit my job as a camgirl. I was young and naive enough to think that jealousy meant that he loved me.

I quit my job as a camgirl and found an occupation that didn’t entail sexiness. The jealousy didn’t stop there though, unfortunately. I couldn’t even be on my phone scrolling through Reddit without him accusing me of talking to other guys. He’d follow me into other rooms and grill me about ‘why I needed to be alone.’ We would get into heated arguments where he would break stuff (he snapped his $500 phone in half when he got angry once and then said ‘look what you made me do’), he would punch himself, and he would rip up money.

I should have left then. I was still so in love, though. Not with him, but the person he had pretended to be for the initial several months of courting. I began internalizing his verbal abuse, which became constant. Every conversation became a lecture. I tried everything I could to please him. Then he began trying to isolate me. He said horrible things about my family and told me I needed to pick a state for us to move to. All of my friends, according to him, were bad for me.

About a year of this behavior goes by and I realize that I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I hated him by that point about as much as I loved him, which was a lot. My mother had a stroke and I used that as an excuse to go home and get some distance, despite the fact that she was recovering fine and had my sister to help her. Him and I ended up breaking up.

There was a huge battle between my emotions and logic by this point. Every cell in my body wanted to just lay in bed with him and rub my thumb along the scruff of his beard. I craved his touch so much. I cried so hard it’s a wonder I didn’t turn into a raisin. Logic kept telling me I needed to stay away, but I resented my logic so much that I began bartering with myself. ‘Well, maybe if we tried this or that. Maybe counseling would help. Maybe we can do this cute thing where we tell each other every day something that we like about each other.’

He texted me one evening. ‘This is my chance!’ He came over, and I smelled the alcohol on his breath, but I brushed that aside. It was better to me than not seeing him, and as far as I was concerned this was going to be the greatest night of my life. We were going to reconnect, and we were going to discuss plans on how we were going to make this work. I thought.

Instead he took me back to his house, downed a bunch of gin, and raped me for 3 hours.

He tried to apologize as best as he could without admitting it was rape. When I’d bring up that it was rape he’d tell me it was never his intention to rape me, and he was just ‘”trying to have fun like we used to.’ During the rape I begged him to stop, and told him he was raping me. His response? ‘I’m not raping you. I know rapists. Real ones. Ones who rape in alleys and shit, and I hate those guys.’ My vivid memory of this quote torments me on a daily basis.

The following year was like learning to walk all over again. I was positively miserable and hopeless. I stopped eating and dipped to 90 pounds. I was still moving. though. Still excelling in my college classes. Still working and bringing in money. One miserable day at a time.

My ex left the state. I saw him one last time before he went. I hugged him, and in that moment felt an emptiness that I could never adequately describe in words, but hoped to never feel again.

After some time I began connecting with a guy I had a huge thing for in high school, and since. It was amazing. Kismet. I started thinking about my ex less and less. I began to heal and put on weight again. I graduated college Magna Cum Laude. My new guy tells me I made him believe in soul mates. I tell him he showed me what it’s like to be respected in a relationship. Amazing 10/10 sex.

Things were going great, so why was I getting panic attacks? I’m not sure. Something just felt off. Something wasn’t right. I was having flashbacks about the rape almost constantly. I wondered if there was something physically wrong with me causing my anxiety to spike. I went to the doctor. I told her to run tests for everything that could cause anxiety.

‘Girl, your blood work looks amazing! You just need some counseling, you’re going to be okay.’ I put on my coat to leave, and she tells me ‘Oh, by the way, your blood work showed antibodies for HSV2 (genital herpes).’

My whole life I thought HSV2 was something that if you had, you knew. I was wrong. I did the responsible thing and called my exes. Rapist ex was the only one who didn’t respond to me. My boyfriend tested clear of all antibodies for HSV. I ended up writing an ex of rapist ex, and she sent me this:

Hey sorry your message was in a hidden messages folder. I was aware of this but i do not have it. I was tested after finding out he had it, and somehow did not get it. But i am so sorry to hear that he did not tell you. I worked for him at his shop for a while and remember him getting a letter from patient first i opened it and it was a bill or receipt for STD testing…and he got all weird and finally told me. He said his parents had it to he thinks from when his dad cheated on his mom. He may have been born with it who knows i know its possible. Or he may have gotten it from someone. But i thought i was in love and it didn’t end our relationship. I was careful and somehow didn’t get it. I was tested and didn’t have it. And tested again when i was pregnant and still didn’t show up i guess. Something i was always afraid of though because of him.

In the beginning of the relationship with rapist ex, we had the STD talk. He told me he had just been tested and was clear of all STDs.

I am 90 pounds again. I am afraid to touch my boyfriend in fear of passing this on to him. I have distanced myself a great deal from him. I don’t feel beautiful anymore. I will never be free of my abuser. He doesn’t have to degrade me anymore; society’s view of HSV2 will do that for him. He doesn’t have to try to cut down my self-esteem anymore, HSV2 has done a wonderful job of that for him. He doesn’t have to rape or sexually abuse me anymore, HSV2 will probably cause me plenty of vaginal pain for the rest of my life at random.

I don’t think I’ll live to see winter.

TL;DR: Met a guy on MFC. Fell madly in love. Got abused, raped, got my heart shattered to dust, and was given an incurable STD.”


7. He’s become my best friend and next year we’ll be getting married.

“I was a cam girl on MyFreeCams for a short time in between jobs earlier this year. Had been doing it for a while when one night someone new entered my room who actually talked that wasn’t a creep and was actually fun and easy to hang out with. He made me laugh a lot and his presence made me feel this undeniable surge of lightning in my heart. When I asked about him I almost didn’t believe what he was saying; 6″, Scottish, in the RAF, funny, smart, likes me a lot. But we Skyped and I saw he was more than perfect and we’ve been attached ever since. When finally getting to meet in person we felt completely at home, like we had been with each other for years. I fit right in with his family and we all have a lot of fun together. We have a very open and communicative relationship, he’s become my best friend and next year we’ll be getting married :)”


8. Vince had a muscular build, cute face, nice hair, and a laugh that was very much stereotypically Hispanic, and I adored it.

“We’re not immune to attraction and love just because we’re at work.

Retired dancer here, danced on and off for 5+ years, and I want to warn anyone reading this thread who thinks they may be falling in love with a ‘sex worker’ MOST of what we say and do is for money, we don’t care about the majority of our clients…I just don’t want to give anyone a false sense of hope who may be falling in love with a sex worker. Anyway, I digress.

I had gone on a couple of dates with some of the guys who would come in to see me, but nothing ever stuck; except Vince* (***Names changed to protect privacy).

Vince had a muscular build, cute face, nice hair, and a laugh that was very much stereotypically Hispanic, and I adored it.

He would come in with a friend, and I would always ask the two of them for dances. Vince would always say, ‘No, I’m good, I don’t get dances,’ but would playfully twirl me around and check me out. He continued to come in, and as we talked more and more I began to find myself becoming more attracted to him. I had learned he had dated another dancer who had just transferred to our club from a club down South. She was stunning and reminded me of girls from that particular area that are of the upper echelon, so you can imagine my surprise when Vince began to seem like he was showing genuine interest in me.

He told me of his undercard fights as an MMA fighter and asked me if I’d like to be a ring girl (I was very much into MMA back then, and was just ecstatic to discussing what I thought was my future, sounds stupid now that I’m older). He invited me to his home, and we watched Transformers (a movie I still despise), one thing led to the next and we had sex. Thus began our crazy, unhealthy, whirlwind romance.

Vince lied to me about every aspect of his life, he told me he was 27 (he was 32, and I was only 19 at the time), he told me he was an undercard fighter, he wasn’t. He claimed his ex up and left him and his child (I’ll never know if that one was true or not), so I admired him as a single father. The worst lie of all was that he told me he loved me; but would follow it up with such vile verbal abuse that I can’t believe I was stupid enough to stick around. He would say I love you, and you act and dress like a whore in the same sentence. He would be angry if I was 5 minutes late to his home, would never want to meet any of my friends, and accused me of cheating all the time, and if I missed his calls all hell would break loose. He would hang up mid-conversation on me after berating me, and I would desperately try to call him back. I know that sounds pitiful, but he began as such a sweet, caring, and kind guy that it was hard for me not to believe it wasn’t my fault for causing him to become so upset with me. People in my life kept telling me he was a liar and a cheat, but I refused to believe them.

I began spending more and more time at his house, never being allowed to stay more than just a night. I would hang out with him and his son, and I began to bond with his son more and more…seeing myself in a future with this man. Boy, was I naive.

I was at the club working one night when a girl from my town and I began to chat about our current boyfriends and I asked if she wanted to see a picture of mine/ (Vince rarely let me photograph him; this should have been a telltale sign.)

As I began showing her the picture and video from our day at the beach (with his son in tow), she looked up at me in disbelief.
‘That’s Mia’s boyfriend!’

I told her she must have Vince confused with someone else, and she pointed at Mia, a girl who was new to our club and said that they worked together at a casino in the area, and that was most definitely Mia’s boyfriend. I was in such total, utter shock and disbelief.

I waited for Mia to get offstage and come back into the dressing room, and I approached her and showed her the picture and explained that I had been dating Vince for a year, and she was in utter shock as well and explained that they worked together and he had no idea she was working at the club, and they had just began dating maybe 3 months ago. My heart absolutely sank. Not only was Vince cheating on me, but he had condemned me for working in the place he met me, and constantly accused me of cheating on him; only to find out he was cheating on me!

We both tell our boss we’re leaving, hop in my car, drive to Vince’s home and all the while Mia is crying saying, ‘I know he loves me.’ I’m saying nothing, because I’m so angry. I took the new purse he bought me and the school photo of his son, and any other things I could find in my car that he had given me and threw them in the trash bin outside of his condo.

She confirms the house we are pulling up to is his; all doubt has left my mind. We enter through his garage, he was a moron and always left it unlocked, and her and I were young and enraged.

She walks in and says his name, to which he awakens; he comes out to find the both of us, she confronts him angrily, meanwhile I’m trying my best not to allow all the tears I have pent up to spill out in a frenzy. Both of us leave after confronting him. I take her home, and I go to my Dad’s house and explain the situation.

The next day she goes and drops off a camera she had borrowed from him; meanwhile I’m at home trying to hold it together. She texts me the entire time. He tells her he doesn’t want to see her anymore. He begins blowing up my phone for about a week, to which I do not respond. Finally I break under the pressure and answer. He lures me back with promises of fidelity and tells me he truly does love me and not her. Hook, line, and sinker, he’s got me again.

It’s back to the honeymoon phase, he’s so sweet, for a while, but then he begins the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde routine. I fall pregnant. I tell him, we decide to abort, as I’m young, and I wasn’t taking great care of myself at the time. It was a very hard thing for me to go through, as he refused to accompany me, paid, but wouldn’t give me the money, as if I was lying about the pregnancy, and basically treated me like shit afterward. It would be a couple of more years before I realized how terrible he was and the amount in which he had worn down my self-esteem. He knew I was in love with him still, even though we were no longer together. One day I met the man who would one day become my future husband. Vince texted me, and I shut him down, I was no longer going to allow someone to treat me so poorly. I remembered all the times I would wake up after a long night of work to bring them lunch made from scratch, only to be told he didn’t believe I made it, or that I was a whore, or dressed like a whore, showed everyone my body, to be made to feel less than. I cut him out of my life and haven’t seen him in years.

It was hard, I had loved him throughout the abuse, and throughout all of his lies. The only thing I can think of that made him act in the way he did (not to excuse it), is that he must have been hurt so badly that he figured he would never allow someone close to him again, and the hurt he felt he needed to project.”


More From Thought Catalog