Making Money

When people say they never envisioned themselves as a sex worker growing up, I can say they were right. I was an honor student with a full academic scholarship to the college of my choice. I graduated with a degree in early childhood education and was teaching preschool by the age of 21. I learned really quickly that the love of teaching didn’t exactly pay the bills. Living paycheck to paycheck got very tiring. I wasn’t able to go out with friends and I sure as hell wasn’t traveling the world on exotic vacations. No, I sat at home in my one-bedroom apartment on a Friday night eating packaged ramen.

I had been in that same routine for nearly three years when I decided that I needed more from my life, but I needed money to do it. Being a waitress or bartender would have been a great way to earn some cash, except I’d be working every night and weekend. I would have money to spend, yet I would lack the time to spend it. I wasn’t a crafty type person so making things to sell was out. Every idea that popped into my head either took time from my day or skills I didn’t have. Breathing out a deep sigh I hung my head ready to give up and continue my life of drudgery, when I caught a glimpse of my freshly painted toes. While money and time were not luxuries I could afford, I took great pride in self-care. Painting my toenails every couple of days was a form of stress relief. It might seem crazy painting them so often, but each morning I pushed myself on the treadmill for miles and all that running wreaked havoc on my polish. It was that toenail polish that started me down this path.

That same night I took a couple pictures of my bare feet and then a couple of pictures in some of my favorite peep-toe pumps. A few clicks on the internet later and I had myself an account geared towards people that liked feet. What did I have to lose? I was anonymous and I had the chance to earn some money. I set my page price at ten dollars a month thinking I could get maybe 10 people to subscribe. An extra hundred bucks a month for some pictures, why not? There were also options for requests and chats and I checked those boxes not thinking there would be any interest. I closed my laptop and fell back in bed with a little laugh. I’m sure nobody from my small town would have guess that the class valedictorian would be selling feet pictures to make ends meet.

The next morning, I woke up and went about my business of getting ready and going to work. After a quick shower, I was dressed and spreading peanut butter on some bread for another sad sandwich for lunch. I thought back to the pictures I had posted the night before and decided to check on my account. Quickly I shoved my sandwich in my bag and headed out the door while trying to open the app. I nearly fell down the stairs of my apartment complex when I saw I had 100 new subscribers and nearly as many messages! Overnight I had made a thousand dollars. That was as much as I took home every two weeks. This had to be a fluke, these people would subscribe for a couple days and then cancel, and I wouldn’t get a thing. Now wasn’t the time to worry about it, I had 3-year-olds to entertain for seven hours.

By the time I got home that afternoon I was nearly jumping out of my skin. I had forced myself to stay off the app while at work. Unfortunately, that only caused my every thought to be consumed by the messages waiting for me and the money that I could make. After changing out of my work clothes into my comfy jammies, I plopped myself down on the couch and opened my laptop. Once again, I was struck dumb when I clicked on my account. I had another 67 followers! Every one of the 5 pictures I posted last night was bursting with likes and comments. What surprised me the most was both men and women were not only commenting, but saying some of the raunchiest things I have ever read. Who knew that my feet would be so popular! Maybe this was going to be more than just a little extra spending money. But I knew better than to get my hopes up. At least until I clicked on the message center.

I had over one hundred messages, each of them had cost my subscribers two dollars to send. One by one I answered the messages. Most of them were just to complement my beautiful feet, some talked about my shoes and polish, some even just commented on the shape of my nails. While it was all new and strange to me, what surprised me the most was the single private request I got. This subscriber offered me a hundred dollars for a picture of my bare feet in the grass. I don’t think I have ever gotten up off my couch faster. I zipped outside and snapped a cute picture making sure the individual blades were poking up between my toes. It was so easy to send the photo locked that it could only be viewed once the payment was sent. I hadn’t even gotten back to my inbox when I heard a cash register sound. At the top of my screen there was a little bag of money that had just over eleven hundred dollars in it. This was apparently where my “tips” went. The hundred dollars for the private picture was in there with over a thousand dollars that people had sent me in tips just for looking at the pictures I had posted. Feeling the rush from this new influx of cash, I got up to take some new pictures for the evening.

This was my new routine, and I followed it for months. Every day I would wake up and teach preschool and every night I would polish my toes and take pictures of my feet for the internet. My page became very popular and had over a thousand subscribers. As one of the top creators, my page only grew in popularity as it was showcased on the website’s main page. My feet were practically porn stars. I made private videos pouring champagne on my toes, smashing cakes, and walking in ridiculously expensive shoes. Best thing was, I was getting paid more and more for each request. One subscriber paid me fifteen hundred dollars to step on some Legos. Sure, it wasn’t comfortable, but the money in my tip jar sure made my life more comfortable. In a few short months I had made three times my annual salary.

I was able to go out with friends, get weekly pedicures, and I even started dating. Of course, most of those dates didn’t get past drinks or coffee. For some reason guys just couldn’t deal with my chosen profession. It was weird, because it was only my feet that were on the net. I was completely anonymous at this point. It would have been easy for me to hide my “job” from them. I could have lied and said I sold makeup or some other multi-level marketing scheme that allowed me to work from home. But starting any relationship on a lie didn’t bode well for a happy and honest future together. While I don’t want to say this string of bad dates had anything to do with my decision to quit my job and think of expanding my repertoire, it wasn’t completely out of my mind when I started to think about starting my own fan channel.

I had done some research and learned that there was even more money to be made by showing more than just my feet. So, I added “cam model” to my online dating profile and hit save. It wasn’t even 24 hours before Josh sent me a wink. I winked back and we chatted for a few days before agreeing to meet in person. His profile was almost too good to be true, so of course I was skeptical. He listed himself a 6’2” and 225lbs. From the pictures I could see he was an athlete, abs and all. This all lined up with his story of playing football in college while he studied economics. Brown hair, blue eyes, and the ever-present stubble completed the all-American jock look. He was the dream guy on “paper.” Let’s hope that reality lined up with the online persona. Tomorrow would be the test to see if I could trust my instincts as well as the person on the other end of the computer. I was meeting Josh for dinner and had high hopes for the next chapter of my life.