Their Fantasies - What They Asked of Me
This article is part of a series. To read the first part, click on the following link: Who am I really?
Before getting to the heart of it, I want to say something about how requests actually arrive - because it’s rarely what people imagine.
The majority of fantasies are not formulated in advance, by message, before the evening. They emerge during it - in a moment of relaxation, after the first drink, after something in the atmosphere has signaled to the man that he is safe to say what he really wants. Some are never explicitly spoken - they can be read in a hesitation, in a hand that moves in one direction and then pulls back, in a sentence that begins and never quite finishes. Part of my work consists in reading those signals and deciding what to do with them.
And some fantasies arrive very clearly, very early, sometimes from the very first contact. Those men have generally waited a long time before calling someone. The precision of their request is proportional to the time they’ve spent thinking about it alone.
What Returns - The Main Categories
After four years, I have a fairly clear map of what men ask for. Not exhaustive - there are always surprises, and that’s a good thing. But strong trends, territories that return regularly under different disguises.
The most frequent, by far, is not what people imagine. It’s not domination, not elaborate roleplay, not scenarios built over years. It’s something much simpler: to be looked at with desire while he looks at me. A visible, legible reciprocity of desire that leaves no ambiguity. The man who wants me to truly want him - not to pretend, but for it to be seen, heard, real. That fantasy is universal, and it costs me nothing to fulfill when it’s sincere on my side, which is often the case.
Next comes what I call the fantasy of slowing down. Men who want everything to take much longer than usual - the undressing, the foreplay, every step stretched until anticipation becomes almost unbearable. These men live in frantic professional and personal rhythms. What they seek here is the exact opposite of their daily life - a suspension of time, an evening with no urgent sequel, where no one checks a watch.
Voyeurism often ranks high as well - in very varied forms. Sometimes it’s explicit: he wants to watch, not participate, or participate very little. Sometimes it’s subtler - he wants me to undress slowly while he remains dressed, to do something while he observes from an armchair. This fantasy of the gaze, of staging something for a spectator, is something I’m comfortable with because it intersects with something I enjoy myself - that awareness of being watched, the way an attentive gaze transforms what it observes.
Roleplay - What I Accept and Why
Roleplay is a category of its own because it requires something particular - the ability to step into fiction while remaining oneself, to play a character without getting lost in it. I discovered fairly early that I was good at it. Literature studies, perhaps - a certain familiarity with characters, with the way one inhabits a voice that is not exactly one’s own.
The most common scenarios revolve around inverted or amplified power dynamics. The secretary and the boss - in both directions, depending on the man. The woman who meets a stranger in a bar and pretends not to know what will happen next - while we both know exactly what will happen. The hostess, the nurse, the teacher - archetypes that may sound cliché but work because they grant permission, a framework within which certain things can be said and done without engaging the real person.
What I accept in roleplay: almost anything that doesn’t require me to simulate something I genuinely find repugnant, and anything that remains clearly within fiction - where both people know it’s a game and can step out of it at any time.
What I reframe without hesitation: scenarios where fiction becomes a cover for something that is no longer entirely fiction. A man who begins a roleplay and whom I sense is using that fictional frame to push me toward something I wouldn’t have accepted directly - that, I always see, and I name it calmly. No drama, no accusation. Just a clear recalibration that restores boundaries and leaves the man free to choose another direction.
Gentle Domination - The Most Misunderstood Fantasy
This one deserves attention because it is very often misrepresented in the collective imagination.
Domination, in what I experience, has almost nothing to do with what the word usually evokes. No leather, no aggressive vocabulary, no hierarchy imposed by force or constraint. What most men who ask for it want is someone who makes the decisions. Who says what to do, when, how - with assurance, without asking permission, without apologizing. A presence that structures the evening so they don’t have to think.
I have a client - whom I call Marc-Antoine in my mind - who runs a company of about a hundred people and makes multi-million-franc decisions on a weekly basis. With me, he wants to be told exactly what to do. Not in a humiliating way - with a quiet authority that removes, for a few hours, the weight of his permanent position as decision-maker. The first time he asked, I found it touching in its simplicity. A very powerful man who wanted, for one evening, not to be.
That fantasy, I fulfill willingly. Because it aligns with something I naturally enjoy - taking control, leading an evening, being the one who structures it. It’s not an effort. It’s congruence.
The Requests I’ve Refused - and How
I don’t refuse often. Much less often than people would imagine. Because I have clear boundaries, and since those boundaries are clear, I know exactly where they are - which spares me the discomfort of having to evaluate them in real time.
What I refuse: anything involving real pain, on either side, unless it has been discussed very precisely in advance and I genuinely want to engage in it. Anything that requires me to play a role that goes against something fundamental in me - not out of puritanism, but because forcing something my whole body resists produces something false that the other person always feels. And anything involving third parties without their explicit consent.
The way I refuse matters. I don’t moralize - that’s not my place. Nor do I pretend to be shocked, which would be ridiculous given where I stand. I simply say it’s not something I do, and I offer something else if I believe there is an alternative way to reach what the man is truly seeking.
Because behind every request, even the most disconcerting ones, there is something more fundamental motivating it. Once that is identified, the specific fantasy often becomes less rigid than it first appeared.
One Evening in Particular - The Most Elaborate Scenario
There is one appointment I sometimes revisit with a kind of retrospective admiration for the precision with which it had been imagined.
The man - let’s call him Thierry, in his forties, working in communications - had contacted me two weeks in advance to describe exactly what he wanted. Not vaguely, not allusively. A multi-paragraph document, written carefully, outlining a precise scenario: I was to arrive at the hotel bar before him, order a drink, and wait for him to approach me as if we didn’t know each other. A chance encounter, played to the end, with a pre-written ending but an entirely improvised path.
What struck me in this request was the care with which he had thought about me within the scenario - not only what he wanted, but what would allow me to feel comfortable within that frame. He specified that I could step out of the game at any moment, that he would understand if something didn’t work, that he wanted it to work for both of us or not at all. That preliminary attentiveness had already told me a great deal about him.
The evening unfolded exactly as planned and entirely differently from what was written - which is the only way this kind of thing truly works. We played seriously, with moments of real tension that came from the fact that we both believed in it enough for something genuine to settle inside the fiction. At one point, I improvised a line that made him laugh in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and that laugh broke the fourth wall for a second - before we both slipped back in by tacit agreement.
It was one of the most creative evenings I’ve lived in this profession. And one of the most satisfying, because that kind of complicity in play requires something fairly rare: two people capable of sustaining a fiction together while remaining present to one another.
What Fantasies Reveal
I’ve come to understand that fantasies are often the inverted image of real life.
The very controlled man wants to lose control. The professionally exposed man wants anonymity. The man accustomed to being served wants to serve. The man who never allows himself vulnerability wants a space where it is possible. It’s not an absolute rule - there are counterexamples. But it’s frequent enough to be a useful lens.
What this has taught me about desire in general is that it is rarely as simple as it appears on the surface. Behind what seems like a precise physical request, there is almost always something more complex - a need to be seen in a certain way, to allow oneself something one doesn’t allow elsewhere, to inhabit a version of oneself that has no space in ordinary life.
My position in all of this is particular. I am both the instrument and the partner, the mirror and the real presence. That double role requires constant attention - to what the other truly seeks, to what I am willing to offer, to the place where the two meet.
When that place exists - and it often does - what happens has little to do with a transaction anymore. It becomes something else. Something harder to name, but very real.
And that is precisely why this work continues to interest me, four years in.
Sofia
Sofia, 27 — Based in Geneva, she fully embraces her life as a luxury escort and speaks about it openly.
Through her stories, she shares her beginnings, her experiences with an international clientele, the advantages of the job (luxury, freedom), but also the more complex realities. She writes in a simple, honest way about what truly happens behind the doors of Swiss hotels.
This text was originally written in French. It was then translated to be readable in your language.
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