[This is Chapter 1 Ishtar’s Angel. Read more chapters here.]
Another one for the ashes...
His name was Jim. Or James... Oh right, Jim. He wanted his ashes buried under a newly-planted redwood sapling in the memorial grove behind the bordello.
He had enough money for the Going Out With a Bang Deluxe Sensual Ceremony package. This included his choice of sacraments (he chose LSD mixed with oxycontin), twelve hours with two Sensual Ceremonialists, and then his Goodbye Infusion of phenobarbital and fentanyl.
We give clients the option to have strangers pay for access to the livestream of the entire Sensual Ceremony on our site, including all the sexy parts, with the proceeds (after we take our 20% cut) donated to the charity of their choice.
But Jim didn’t want to livestream his Sensual Ceremony. He was ashamed of his fantasy, and he didn’t want anyone knowing about it, even after he was gone. It’s too bad, because it was a beautiful Ceremony.
It was simple. Jim was raised religious, but had always been curious about being with a man. His internalized homophobia from his upbringing had never allowed him to do it. Like a lot of bi-curious men, he found it easier to contemplate this initial exploration with a woman in the mix as well. So, this was his final fantasy: a bisexual threesome.
It was a good thing he came to Ishtar’s Angels. We were the #1 specialist in realizing final fantasies on this war-torn Earth: “Make the Last Experience of Your Life the Greatest Experience of Your Life…Go Out With a Bang at The World’s First End-of-Life Bordello”
Serah asked me if I’d be the man for Jim’s Sensual Ceremony.
I’m strangely heterosexual. I say strangely because to any observer it would seem that I should be bisexual or some other shade on the rainbow. I cross-dress. (Post-apocalyptic femme is my look—though I guess we’re all post-apocalyptic now.) I’m a switchy witch and when I’m not Domming I like to submit to women—sometimes hard and humiliating submission. I have an insane bubble butt that I like to accentuate with tight clothes (hence my nom de guerre, Daemon Derriere), and get constant sexual offers from men. I wish I could be into this because it would double (or quadruple) the amount of sex I have. But I’ve interrogated this extensively within myself, and despite my departures from standard macho cishet male sexuality, the electricity just doesn’t turn on for me with men.
That said, I don’t mind servicing our male clients who want to be with men, and giving them the send-off of their dreams, if there’s enough cash in it for me.
[The rest of Chapter 1 of Ishtar’s Angel is available only to paid subscribers until after the launch of The Holy Hour: An Anthology on Sex Work, Magic, and the Divine, which features the chapter. Alternatively, buy that amazing book and read my chapter there!]