I picked up on something in his text messages and emails — they were demanding, bossy, and paternalistic. I’m a sex worker, and as such, I confront decisions regarding safety and sanity and money on a fairly frequent basis.This was a client who had been attempting to contact me since October, but I decided to ignore him. The client’s vibe was just too weird, even for me, a veteran in the field of absurdity, social outcasts, and patriarchs desperately reaching for the touch of a young girl. He had crow’s feet in his eyes and a potbelly that threatened to pop the buttons of the Ralph Lauren polo that lurched over his waistline.Auto-complete features that obviously point to nasty and illegal content will also be silenced on both search engines.And Google has said it had developed a hashing technology for You Tube that would place a unique ID mark on illegal child abuse vids.
He brought out a huge Hitachi magic wand and buzzed its circular surface up and down my pelvic bone, where he seemed to think my clit was located. “Oh, he’s getting excited now,” my client said, stroking the bulge buried in his gray boxer briefs. He started humping me, holding my knees into my chest.
As I drew closer to him, I smelled something rancid. I asked him vague questions about his business trip and how he had been. I swallowed hard, clinked my glass to his, and said, “Well, cheers to that,” and opened my painted lips like a broken toy doll. I held my breath to avoid inhaling too much of the scent that my memory had done such a good job of suppressing until now.
His musky underarms combined with the smell of feet, urine, cum, a day of hard work at the office, and god knows what else. I giggled at the right times and smiled at others, trying to hold eye contact without collapsing like a house of cards. He said none of that mattered now, that this was his last stop, and that he had been looking forward to seeing me for months. He pushed the hair out of my face and informed me that we were going to the bedroom. I thought about the money at the other end of this, grabbed his hand, and with put-on girlish excitement, skipped to the bedroom, his sloth-like body in tow.“Take off your clothes,” he said. Wordlessly I unbuckled the straps of my favorite sandals, shimmied out of my skirt, and took off my sweater. Staring like a hungry wolf, he sat opposite me, wet circles of sweat swelling beneath the armpits of his dress shirt.
Number 10 said that Microsoft and Google had agreed, among other things, to block child abuse images, videos and pathways that lead to illegal material.
It means that around 100,000 unique searches worldwide on Google will now apparently be halted.