The Only


Madama Papillon



Your Post-Operation Transgender Delight

By Madama Papillon, Sep 3 2018 08:00AM

An early morning pick up from my flat and we drive to the airport. I love France, and I love Paris most of all. Glasgow airport is busy as we absorb some coffee and duck into a clothes shop. I try on the most beautiful Harris Tweed winter coat, which feels like it’s cut is just for me. To my surprise, he buys it for me as a gift. Such a kind, thoughtful and generous person. I walk to the plane feeling like a million dollars.

A taxi from la Gare du Nord sees us in our kinky subterranean basement apartment. The hot shower washes away all travel stress. I put on a shoulderless black dress and we taxi to the Bateaux Mouches moored by le Seine. Pre-cruise wine and chat in a bizarre nouveau art decor bar and we board the ship. I go for the duck foie gras, veal and chocolate, washed down with champagne and wine. We see a guy propose to his partner on the other table. Violins and piano float accompany the meal. On docking we take a short walk to the Crazy Horse cabaret. I enjoyed this soooo much! The girls were fun, crazy and gorgeous. He buys me roses. More champagne and a taxi back for an evening of intimate pleasures, finally falling asleep at 3am.

I sleep for 9 hours and wake at 12. I didn’t really want to lose the morning but feel good for the sleep. Today is my day he says. I munch cheese, baguette and fruit, we sip an espresso in a café and metro to the Louvre. I love classical architecture and museums and the day is lost in Egyptian artefacts and famous paintings. We walk along the Seine, tired but happy to a restaurant. I have a penchant for Pastis, he has framboise. We chat, eat and people watch, hold hands and walk.

I love travel. New places. New foods. If you have a trip, personal or business, I am often willing to go. Special rates make such things affordable. Whether London, Paris, New York or Timbuktu. Let me be your muse, friend and play mate.



By Madama Papillon, Jun 10 2018 08:00AM

I had gone out the night before, a friend had just passed her PhD viva and we went and got very tipsy on champagne. I vaguely remember an offer of a threesome with an attractive couple, at the taxi rank at 1am a group of men invite me into their taxi to go to a club and then back to theirs, another guy walking past asks if I’m Russian and is surprised when I can say “no, I’m not, are you?” in Russian.

The morning head hurts as I wake in the knarled wooden 4 poster bed. Sunlight streaming in. An orchid looking happy in the window sill. I have a booking today. A cold shower and strong coffee see me ready to go. I wear a short black summer dress. A knock on the door and his lovely beaming smiling face behind a mass of flowers. We chat for a bit as I try and absorb a little more coffee into the blood stream. Gentle kisses. Today we’re off on an adventure.

We drive for about an hour before I ask where we are going. Chatting about the life and the universe. We go through Callandar then on to Balquhiddir. The sun is out and the weather amazing. I am craving a Scottish breakfast, but we arrive past noon and the menu has changed. Mussels it is! And coffee, lots more coffee! Hands explore up my leg under the table, find wetness.

After breakfast that was lunch, we go to a little country shop with huge Highland coos outside. Scary horns. I start trying on two beautiful pure cashmere shawls. “Which one do you prefer?” he asks. “Both!” I say, without meaning anything by it. He buys me both and I melt a little.

The day smudges and blurs into kisses, hips grabbed, dress pushed up, ears cupped, hair tugged, tongues tasting. It was a good day. I like exploring.

By Madama Papillon, Sep 20 2017 07:13PM

I had such a wonderful date the other night, I want to share it, as, for me, it sums up my experience sex work.

A text tells me he is waiting outside in the car. Butterflies flitter around my tummy and I go downstairs, am discreetly given the fee and a huge bunch of flowers. We drive off.

Pulling up at the entrance of a fine Italian restaurant I get out and he tells me how beautiful I look and that he is glad I have become part of his life. His full of kind eyes and a soft deep voice. I melt a little.

I choose the veal and he orders the best red wine I have ever tasted. It is like sweet oak and cherries. Legs slide against each other under the table and I feel myself a little wet as his hand rests on my thigh. We order strong coffee and yummy ice cream.

After, we go to the cinema and I relish cosying my head against his arm as he gently touches me. Fingers exploring under my dress. The darkness hides all.

At his home, malt whisky is poured, I taste peat and then his lips. Delicacy soon becomes passion. My dress and bra has gone. I barely noticed. I remember wanting him so much. Wanting to taste him. All of him.

In the bedroom. No timidity. My body is moved. Pounding hard. My breath pushed out of me. Collapsing bodies. Sweat. Gentle caresses. An hour of sleep.

We coffee and he drops me off back to my flat with a loving kiss.

Sex work can be gentle, warm, butterflies, care, kindness. Hot erotica and emotional care.

I am ever so glad to have this vocation.

To be gifted these experiences.

Sex work is work.

Sex work can be loving and caring.

Sex work can be what you make it.

That woman of loneliness and mystery,

scarce seen to smile,

seldom heard to sigh.

She knew herself a villain,

but deemed the rest no better

than the thing she seemed,

and scorned the best as hypocrites

who hid those deeds

the bolder spirit plainly did.

She knew herself detested,

but she knew the hearts that loathed her,

crouched and dreaded too.

Lone wild and strange,

she stood alike exempt from all affection

and from all contempt.


- My edit of Byron!




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