The Auction

Disclaimer 1: This is fantasy and fiction. I think it’s important to remark this point because although this comes directly from my inner self it does not mean that I want this to happen, much less with anyone at anytime or anywhere. My latest blog post explains this matter in more detail and I want to make clear that if you try any of this without having discussed it previously with me I won’t enjoy neither do it. Fantasies are great when everyone is informed and consenting. I also do not wish to have sexting surrounding this fantasy as it has its place in a safe setting. When I want to, with whom I want to. Not just randomly anytime and much less without compensation for my time.

Disclaimer 2: English is not my first language so I may make errors in both grammar and style. It’s the first time I am publishing some of my writing and even personal erotica, so if it sounds “weird” then you know why.

Note: The mistress mentioned in this story is my dear friend Fosca Dominatrix and I have her permission to use her as a character here. We have considered the chance of doing this in real life somewhere in the future but it would take me to feel extremely safe and comfortable with all the patrons so it would be offered to very trusted regulars only. Please do not contact me or her asking any of us to do or talk about this fantasy if we don’t even know you at all. Thank you.

Note 2: The patrons are not based on anyone in particular. Of course I gave the Londoner quite the protagonism since I live and work in London, but they don’t have any assumed appearance (other than the beard), skin color or ethnicity so you can make that up as you will. Pick the character you want to be and enjoy 😉

The dim light traversed the room trying to find its way through the group gathering and landing on the walls next to the shadows of the patrons. There was a dusky atmosphere and the air felt kind of spicy.

Several chairs formed an arc facing the stage. Very comfortable ones. On them, a small crowd of well dressed men. Whether it was a full suit with a tie or a slightly unbuttoned, but elegant, shirt topped with a classic jacket; they sure took their time to prepare for the occasion. From different corners of the world but with the same taste for success. They had been waiting for the event for quite a long time. One could say the stars aligned that night.

Their eyes turned to a shadowy figure in the middle of the arc over the small stage. The sparse murmur stopped gradually as they focused their attention on her. The occasion asked for her best shoes, previously cleaned by one of her finest subs. A fitted pencil skirt with a slight opening on the side and a simple but elegant white shirt completed the ensemble. She didn’t need much to impress. Natural curls on a long and wild brown mane and intense eyes did the rest. The mistress got the attention of the whole room and the silence was both tense and exciting.

‘Let me welcome you, dear gentlemen. I hope your flights were pleasant and relaxed, as I am going to raise your heart rate tonight.’

A few of them couldn’t hide their excitement. The Singaporean patron was playing with the cuffs of his shirt nervously. It had been really hard to get all of them together.

‘We have been playing together for a long time and it is time that I generously share my best toy with you’- continued the mistress. – But.

There was tense silence. All the eyes were onto her.

‘Since I know how much you enjoy a challenge you are also going to entertain me tonight. As you know, I, Fosca Dominatrix, am a great slave merchant. I find great pleasure in auctioning them and see you all fighting to get a glimpse at my precious wares.’ – she walked slowly while talking and her eyes traveled through the observant faces of the crowd. Her hand reached a switch that gradually revealed the slave.

The light shone over the body of a naked woman wearing a pink bondage set with a matching collar and leash, now in the hands of the mistress.

‘I present you one of my favourite toys, one I have shared great moments with.’ – said Fosca with a smirk.- ‘But first I will let you examine her for a brief moment to make sure she is up to your standards because I understand you are here looking for the utmost quality. Let me assure you I have never disappointed any of my suitors.’

The men started looking at each other, waiting to see the other’s reactions. Calmly, the American patron took the first step and stood up, readjusting his cuffs. The rest started following him except for the Londoner who preferred to wait a bit while observing the scene.

In front of them, a rather shy and innocent looking woman was sitting on her knees. She didn’t make eye contact and was still leashed to the mistress. The South African started to touch her back gently with two fingers while walking around her. This prompted others to approach. Promptly she had hands all over her back and chest. One went for the feet before anyone could get there. He went nearer them and smelled. Wanted to lick but one look from the mistress was enough to make him readjust himself and just touch.

The Londoner looked at her in the eyes and, for a brief moment, he got a look back. He had a well trimmed ‘salt and pepper’ beard and inquisitive eyes. Got up and approached her. Touched her jaw gently and she closed her eyes. But got a sudden shiver going through her spine and opened her eyes widely when someone stuck a finger in her ass. The mistress noticed and slapped the hand of the American. Ouch.

‘Inspecting is over!’- she announced. Everyone returned to their seats and the excitement was palpable in the air.

‘The bid starts at 500, gentlemen. Who wants to start?’ –

The American’s hand raised quickly.- ‘600, anyone?’ – two more patrons raised their hands and a third one afterwards.- ‘900, who wants to go for 1000?’

After a brief moment of silence the Singaporean raised his hand.- ‘1200 here please.’- a mumble started in the other side and lead to another quick bid for 1300. A few instants later a clash between two of them. 1400, 1500, all the way until 1900. And silence ensued again.

‘2400.’ – with a soft but firm voice, the Londoner emerged from the shadows and made a statement. There was some stunned silence afterwards until the ones fighting recovered from the hit and kept trying. 2600, 3000, 3200. The Londoner raised his hand again and simply said ‘4000’. The others looked at each other, trying to guess who was going to continue.

‘4000 going once…- announced the mistress.- ‘4000 going twic- she was interrupted.- ‘4200’ – blurted the American. He got a stern glare from the Londoner. -‘5000’.- he sentenced. Didn’t take his eyes away from his competitor. -‘5000 going once.’- she left a brief moment in between.- ‘5000 going twice…’- Silence among them and some nervous looks. -‘Sold!’- she declared.- ‘To the gentleman in the second row. Please come forward.’

He stood up and readjusted his jacket. Approached the mistress and she handed him the pink leash. He turned back to the crowd.- ‘I am quite known for my generous nature, so I will be willing to share my new acquisition with you all… – excitement ran through the other patrons.- except for one part.- he said this while posing his hand over the slave’s ass. Followed by a stern glare to everyone.

They stand up again, this time faster, and advance towards her. The mistress sits down to watch the show. Exchanges a smirk with the Londoner, who is again waiting for everyone else to start. Several hands start touching her chest and back again. One goes for the mouth and puts two finger in her lips, forcing it to open, and introduce them inside. The South African takes his jacket off, so follows the Singaporean. Another one goes directly in front of her and unzipped his pants. Took his dick out and put it just outside her mouth. With his other hand he gently pushed her head and forced her to lick it.

The Londoner was still comfortably seated on his chair looking at them. Before getting the dick to fill her mouth they exchanged glances again. She concentrated on pleasing her new master’s friends. The guy went back and forth slowly, enjoying every side of her mouth.

Meanwhile the feet enthusiast was enjoying a treat back there. Touched them gently, even gave them a massage. And, of course, licked them non-stop. He would be there as long as it was allowed.

The others were quite busy trying to get well positioned first at her back. The Singaporean grabbed her by the hips and raised them until she was on doggystyle. Then, took his dick out and rubbed it against all the perianal area, slowly.

At her mouth, business was increasing in speed and he closed his eyes relishing the moment. Back and forth, quickly… and he climaxed letting out a small pant. Still kept it inside for a while, savoring the moment after cumming and feeling her tongue on it.

The Singaporean kept massaging his dick against her other lips until it went inside. He had been waiting so long that it was quite a relief. It felt so tight and wet that he couldn’t control himself much longer. As soon as he came another started to push.- ‘It’s my turn.’- he said. The first one took a step back and let the newcomer enjoy the slave too. Soon something like a line started to form up. Another one went for the mouth that was now free again.

When his turn came, the American risked it again and neared his finger around the asshole. Turns out the Londoner had been watching all this time, and dedicated him such a glare that he instantly regretted doing it. It was time to take ownership of his newly earned toy.

The Londoner stood up, took his jacket off and gathered his sleeves up. Approached her under the watchful eyes of the other patrons. Put a finger on her shoulder and made it travel through all her back until her ass. When he got there he turned over and went for his belt. The cling sound of a belt deattaching made her shiver. He massaged her butt cheeks gently, enjoying the size of her hips. Stopped for a moment to watch the scene and enjoy the serenity of the moment. They had all paused their endeavors and now wanted to enjoy the master and the slave in live performing.

He stuck up the tip of one finger inside her asshole and she tightened up her body. Slowly went inside with one, put it out and added a second one on the next trip. Back and forth a bit, took them out and went for some lube, gently disposed by the mistress beforehand. Another round and it was good to go. It had been hard for quite a long time and it was the perfect spot to finally own her as her true rightful master. He stuck out his dick and played around with the tip inside the ass. Just the tip and watched her enjoying all that attention. They envied him, she was his and he was hers at the same time. The way a submissive also owns a piece of the master’s mind.

He went fully inside and she let out a small moan. The pressure there was great for both. He started slowly because he planned to keep her for a long time, so one has to take care of their slaves properly for that. But it took flight soon, as excitement had been building up for such a long time and he had been daydreaming of this since the tickets for the event were announced. At some point they were alone, among everyone else and the mistress, but alone in that world. Heavily enjoying the sweaty assfuck.

The warmness was palpable and several of the patrons were just helping themselves with their hands. After a while he started moaning increasingly and she felt it was her time to go too. A fitting gift for her owner to show him appreciation for his care.

They were panting and realized everyone was looking at them. He took a moment of respite, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Enjoyed that feeling for a while and then pulled out. Cleaned himself and buckled his belt up again. Turned his mouth next to her hear and whispered.- ‘We will be meeting again soon. Meanwhile, entertain the guests’.

‘Yes, sir.’- she replied.

Fantasy and consent

I have always been kinky but it’s only recently when I started advertising as a kinky London escort offering both submission and domination. It has been in my mind since pretty much the same time I started being sexual. I tried to explore it, of course, but the result was disastrous. Why was there such a huge gap between my fantasies and reality?

It may seem simple and obvious now but it took me years to realize and understand the nature of fantasies. My new plans for exploring them further made me write this, actually.

Let’s set a simple example. There’s this trope that “many women have rape fantasies”. It’s statistically true, but it doesn’t mean women wish to be raped. A fantasy is a fantasy, and consensual non-consensual play requires way more than just desiring it. As any other fantasy does, but let’s just pick this one because I actually have it too.

I have been mentally battling this fantasy, and all my other submissive ones, for years. I felt there was a dissonance between my desires and reality, that I really didn’t want to be raped (I don’t!!). But why were they still there? Why did I masturbate to that over and over?

I recently saw a good analogy on this. Just because some people love the thrill of watching a very scary crime movie it doesn’t mean they would enjoy being shot at or stalked until death. This is quite easy to understand, but when it comes to expressing sexual fantasies then some people think that if you have one it means you want it to happen in real life the same way.

Inside your mind you keep control of everything and you can stop the fantasy at any given moment, change it and safely enjoy it because nothing happens in reality. But if you try to mimic it with someone else who is not inside your mind, you lose that control over it. This is what has been happening to me through the years when I didn’t fully understand this point. Why didn’t I enjoy my fantasies when translating them into reality? Because those people were not in my mind. And this is where it can get dangerous.

My fantasy in their mind was different because it collided with theirs. Even when we share fantasies, the little details make the most of it in the end. I can fantasize about getting my hair pulled but in real life that can hurt and therefore bring my mood down because pain is something I may not want in that fantasy. Pain didn’t exist in the fantasy and it was safe. That’s a small example but kind of explains it well. If the people you are sharing your fantasy with don’t understand consent well this can turn nasty quickly.

But how do I get my fantasies realized if there’s this gap between them? Well, for some I can do decaffeinated versions of it and so far has worked great and for some others I will just enjoy them for what they are and now that I have accepted that they feel even better.

My first time as a giantess

Although I’ve been escorting for several years, I’m still quite new to the kinky scene. I have always been curious about it, but afraid of doing something the wrong way and hurt people or getting myself hurt. I’m first and foremost a carer.

I had the pleasure of having two great teachers, Robbie and Fosca Bellpuig, on practices and consent. I’ve seen how they work and the pride they take on their professionalism and on the way they understand boundaries and practicing kinks in a healthy way for everyone involved.

We go back in time about three years ago, when I was still unaware I had a bit of a domme side. I got enquiries asking me to be dominant, but I was sure I lacked the knowledge, so although I was interested I had to decline them. But one day I got an enquiry from someone who already wanted to meet me in a vanilla setting, and casually mentioned having a giantess fetish on the first email exchanges.

He didn’t want to pressure me and completely understood that I had never done it and was unsure, but eager to try if he was willing to guide me on what he wanted. Luckily for me he was, and was so sweet and understanding.

Picture me at home watching giantess videos trying to grasp the overall idea. How to convey a giant woman in the size of a regular one? And to be somewhat dominant at the same time? But still be myself and try to not make all this together an awkward combination? I was so scared of failing but at the same time so curious and eager to try.

His giantess fetish involved facesitting too, and that part was easy for me, since I had already done it, I enjoy it a lot and I have big hips that help with that. I could start from there. Then he added a great idea: using gummy bears as “citizens” that I would stomp on, grab and eat. Adding sugar to the date certainly made me more interested!

So the day came. I was nervous but excited and fortunately nothing bad would happen if I couldn’t achieve it so I didn’t feel pressured to perfom perfectly and that made things way easier in my mind. He was such a lovely gentleman, a bit shy, but secure about what he was looking for. He showed me the gummy bears and we both had a good conversation and laughs.

We started slowly with the usual cuddling, kisses and playing along with each other. I was still nervous so I decided to face it like I do when the pool’s water is cold. Suddenly jumping in and letting everything flow around me. It gets warmer more easily than if I was just tipping the toe all the time. I went onto his face and sit on it. He was gladly surprised and started playing with me. I wanted to be sure I was doing things okay so I looked at his face. I saw an overjoyed man looking at me like if he was a little sheep. Not scared, but certainly adoring a giant woman. I can’t explain this, but I suddenly felt… bigger. It’s like the mood was so good that we both made me believe I really was a giantess.

I took the gummy bears and poured them over his belly. I started talking to this little citizens from above, choosing which one was going to be sacrificed first for the glory of their goddess. It was an apple one. I noticed him getting aroused at this while I was ignoring him and centering my attention on the bears. He had mentioned something about being so big that I wouldn’t notice him, and I thought this one was going to be tough, but it actually was easy. I had too many preys to catch and they were so colorful, so going with my legs, bum and feet over him while hunting for gummy bears was really easy and entertaining. He was delighted to be just another little citizen who could do nothing against my glory.

I looked at him like if I suddenly had discovered he was there by accident, and his reaction was priceless. It felt great. I was naturally enjoying the roleplay and doing things unscripted, just following the mood in the room. I kept going over it for a while. I ate more bears, ignored and stomped on him, sat on his face again. Several times. We laughed a lot.

When I left the room I had a mild headache from all the sugar. But still had a big smile on my face. If anyone asked, gummy bears made a goddess happy.

The future awaits

Today I was meddling around with a text I am preparing on mental health and sex work mostly for a client perspective on it and realized, again, that going out again is not that far in the books.

I am going to be honest. There was a point in the pandemic where I didn’t care much. All I did was watching series and playing videogames while in pajamas all day. I left Twitter for a long time with no updates or new pics, I forgot about me having this blog. I didn’t have enough mental energy to write anymore. And when the route towards exiting lockdown was announced I had a little wake up call. It was like “hey, you’re going to be able to touch people again after a year”. But it felt unreal for a while so the apathy still lasted.

This weekend I finally realized that it is happening. The end of it it’s starting to happen! And then… oh no. I abandoned my blog, my Twitter, my people. I stopped replying emails for so long, I felt bad. But I was happy to see some people didn’t forget about me and wanted to know when I was going out again. That put me on track back again.

The future is still quite uncertain, but there is indeed a difference between the last month and this one. There is a spark of hope in the horizon, so my plans begin to get shaped. I have been very cautious during the pandemic so don’t want to go from 0 to 100 just because, even if I want so.

This life changing event has indeed shifted my perception about time and how much we value it. I am sure I am not the only one thinking so, pretty much everyone around me is realizing how many things we did take for granted and how much are we going to value them from now on. I have tons of places noted down that I want to visit in London. I am eager to meet people again. I can’t wait to put a face to all the people I have met on Twitter this year.

But since I am cautious and prefer to be safe than sorry, I am controlling those impulses and trying to think more rationally. The guidelines state that until around May I cannot properly meet people indoors, so will probably think about going back to work around that time but can’t promise anything.

The other thing is that I also won’t be able to work at full capacity since the start. I am most probably limiting bookings to a max of two a month, one every two weeks at least. When numbers keep going down and more people are vaccinated I will be improving this and allowing more dates, but can’t know as of now when that will be. As much as I want to meet people again I have to be cautious. There will be future times to go wilder in this matter, I am sure. For now I am smiling more than last month, which is a really good thing I had missed a lot.

Domination with a smile

I grew up with quite a posh father who despised anything outside the ordinary so my views on BDSM were clouded by prejudice early on. However I always found the full black leather dominatrix imagery quite interesting. Perhaps it was that it was indeed out of the ordinary, it was socially deemed as “only weird people do that” in my environment and it had to do with the sex world; which I found fascinating as, like many others my age, didn’t grow up with a comprehensive sex education around and had to find my own.

The fact that BDSM was sort of “socially forbidden” around me was what drove my curiosity to it even further and made me fantasize the first times about being submissive. At some point in my late 20s I assumed my role was only around submission. I did love seeing those dommes being badass and having incredible looks with those impossibly high heels and shiny latex outfits. It was not for me, but definitely a powerful image.

Around sexwork the most common imagery for dommes is black and red leather and/or latex, high heels or boots and a very serious resting bitch face. Not only I do not feel comfortable wearing red but also cannot help smiling at every little stupid thing. No one would take me seriously for a domme if I even tried. Or that is what I thought.

Although I never advertised myself as being into BDSM (out of not feeling professional enough about it) I got some requests for it through time. I declined the ones that felt too hard for me, but ventured into those that I thought I could do and actually enjoy. These included face sitting and foot worship most of the time but once I got a request to be a giantess and it was one of the best bookings of my life, have to say. I still remember to this day and will surely write about it in the future.

All this time I thought what subs wanted was to be whipped, canned or spanked and it took me time to realize that domination had plenty more things apart from that. I was also afraid of not being able to discern if a client was enjoying it or not, but those experiences around foot fetish and face sitting helped me see what clues you can find about someone enjoying a submissive role. Sometimes it is more about how you do it rather than what you do.

But the thing that helped me the most with was with the smiling problem. I call it a problem because that is what it was in my head. It actually is not. I genuinely thought subs would not want a domme that smiles and laughs and looks happy. I thought they wanted resting bitch faces all the time. I am pretty sure there are people who want that, for sure. But also discovered plenty of others who love a smiling domme. Last year I (virtually) met Cleo and saw she smiles pretty much in every pic. That was quite an inspiration!

However in my mind it was not fully settled and on my last photo shoot wanted to get some “domme pics” out. I did not like any of them. Uploaded a few to my gallery because I thought variety is good to have, but I am certainly looking to improve those in the future. I tried the resting bitch face. Definitely not for me.

Now I realize it did not make much sense because I am the same persona, Lilu. I am a switch and enjoy both sides. And I am having a blast exploring all these things I assumed were not for me before. One of my best friends, Fosca, is a great domme and I have always admired her. I find myself now fantasizing on us doing duos either with me as sub and her as domme or even both of us as dommes. A few months ago she was telling me how much she enjoyed the whip and the way in she described it made me eager to try. Me. A whip! I had never considered it. On the same league I have an interest in pegging now. With all these new things coming to the plate I am committed to properly learn them until I feel it’s safe enough to offer them on the regular.

And on a side final note, also realized that smiles and laugh can be powerful tools in a domming session. I fantasize with being that pastel pink coat lady with the puffy scarf that can hit you hard with a very, very big smile 🙂

My first year in London… or not

Growing up in a small town I quickly realised I was not going to follow my family’s path of staying there all my life. I consider myself lucky to have been born in an era when the internet was starting to change everything and opened a window for me when I was younger. I graduated from my small town to the capital of my county and then to one of the biggest cities in Spain. But I knew I needed more and a world capital was in my dreams.

There were several attempts to move out of Spain for me trying to find a career path I loved. I have lived in Ireland and Morocco for a while, and gained great self knowledge from those experiences. So I think the moment I chose to move to London was perfect in my life. And oh, I did not see how would the future unfold for me just when I was planning it and now I am very grateful for my fate this year. Not that I love pandemics, but could say my decision to move to the UK kind of saved me just in the moment I would have needed it most, without knowing.

I arrived in February amidst a storm called Ciara. When they have names they are quite strong I guess. Fortunately for me I am a lover of storms, even when I am under one, so the first night in the UK left an imprint on me. It was an adventurous night through the eurotunnel and all the way up, filled with fond memories now.

Shortly after settling myself here and starting to get back working that feeling many of us had already had when we saw the Mobile World Congress being cancelled became true. We were in a pandemic, a real one. After a few weeks I realised that if I had tried to come later it would have been impossible to enter and would probably have to spend plenty of months out of a job in a very expensive flat back there. I just avoided eviction by sheer luck of choosing February instead of letting it go again, like I have had with previous chances to move.

I still had some time to wander around London a bit, visit one single floor of the V&A (my naive self thought this thing would last a few weeks so I would just get back soon to check the others), visited Hamleys and went to meet some friends I was referred to by other sex workers. Overall all pretty positive experiences but they lasted short. Like everyone else I had to go inside and lock myself up. Luckily for me I have plenty of training in spending days alone at home where I can either play videogames or paint.

However I have to admit that eventually it ended taking up a toll on me too. I am not know for being out a lot, it has to be something significant to get me out of the house. But at some point I ended up desiring to just get out, for nothing in particular other than getting out. I could learn a lot about myself in the first lockdown, and was probably the worst one of the (hopefully) two. Dipped my toe into online sex work just to learn it was not my thing at all. That made me value how much I prefer in-person sex work and how much I missed one of my lines of work. Although I could survive it is not the same when they take a part of your life away.

When I was building my website I thought a lot on what would I add to the blog, and one of the ideas in the brainstorming was “how my first year in London has been”. Never in a million years would I have thought I would have barely visited London neither met many of the people I wanted to meet in person. I was hoping to write about all those experiences with friends, gentlemen, weird trips, quirky stores, the vibe of a world capital… yet here I am, still new to the city although I have been living near it for almost a year.

The good thing is that now I could get used to living in the UK for a while and I am way less afraid of exploring London when we are able to.

My submissive side

I have always had a deep interest in submission. When I started having my first sexual experiences I found myself aroused at the idea of being a man’s toy to play around with but unfortunately both me and my partners back then were very inexperienced thus I ended up suffering the consequences of badly understood BDSM. Society still has prejudiced views on this matter and many untrained people think that being a submissive means “letting the dom do anything they want to you”.

So I left those fantasies on my mind only, for years, until I got into escorting. At first I didn’t offer it because, same as my first partners, there was no guarantee that clients would be experienced at it. But I discovered a new feeling. Getting paid for sex and roleplaying in my mind did help. I toyed with the idea of having to be a servant for a brief time and postures like doggy helped me get the feeling. So far I am more of an ambience submissive rather than a hard play one. But lately I have started to appreciate spanking and wouldn’t say no to trying some other impact practices. I only need time and to start very softly.

But I also need, more than the softness, to feel completely comfortable and safe to explore my submissiveness. And this is where the dom plays a huge part. I have several fantasies in my mind, many of which are of a more advanced level than my current one. There is a huge gap between fantasy and reality. In fantasies we can control any outcome and they stop exactly when we need to. The other subjects act exactly as we desire down to the last detail, dirty word and single action. Meanwhile in reality you are dependent on the dominant part to know and respect your limits and be prepared for you not being comfortable at any given situation and needing to immediately stop. That means having to trust someone else and, essentially, giving away most of that control you can easily have on fantasies.

As any submissive escort I have my limits and expect doms to have theirs too. Yet lately I have been getting contacts from dominant clients who expect me to cater to a long list of practices, many of those requiring a great deal of trust in the person dominating, just because I offer submission. BDSM is about safety and trust the same it is about enjoying a roleplay. It cannot properly exist without the other two. If only one side in the room is having fun, then that is not BDSM.

Unfortunately while it’s very easy to find people who want to have fun being dominant, it’s way harder to find those who also seem to understand what safe words and aftercare are, and that limits are important and are not there “to be pushed” as part of the fun. I have had enough clients contacting me genuinely thinking that for me to fully embrace my submissiveness (whatever that means since I already am a submissive) I need to let them control and do whatever they want with no limits. This sort of ideas are the fastest way to get me to reject a date or leave an ongoing one without refunding.

I love playing a sub role inside the bedroom with all our limits clearly defined and being able to trust the dominant side in that I will be safe and cared for. But I don’t live a submissive lifestyle and therefore do not feel aroused with domination outside the bedroom, especially in the contact phase where the first impression heavily counts. Acting as a dom straight out in the first emails is a non-consensual way of showing me you do not care about me having limits (since we never discussed limits around acting dominant during contact) and that therefore you are risky to meet. It’s not going to get me horny, you won’t get me to desire being dominated by you. It will only result in the opposite.

What actually makes me wet my panties is a respectful dom who is looking to have as much fun as me as a sub, that proves it in the contact phase as well as in the date. Imagining that I can feel that trust for someone and that my gut instinct is just sitting there calmly while watching me getting spanked is great. Knowing that I am up for some consensual and desired punishment does arouse me. Please take as much care as the fun you expect to have.

The hairy question

I was born in 1989 and grew up in the 90s, when the hairless trend started to gain traction in porn and the social pressure to shave also started to increase. Growing up I assumed that shaving was the norm and never questioned it. It was messy, uncomfortable and tedious, but shown as a necessary evil to “achieve beauty”.

Fast forward to my early-mid 20s my body was still changing and the razor burns and itching red skin increased dramatically. I tried waxing but the results were pretty similar and it was more painful than shaving, so I stuck to the latter. It was also the time where I was starting to dip my toe into sex work and at 23 started webcamming. I lasted so little there as it was not for me, but made an increase on the shaving pressure.

When I moved into erotic massage it was usually done with a thong on so I started to leave my bush out growing and shaved the rest. It felt really comfortable and I also found it visually appealing. I find myself looking like a doll when I shave that part and it feels awkward. Maybe I remember those Barbie beveled and embossed panties too much, but reminds me of that.

Then full into my escort career I slowly evolved from “what men want” (from my early agency days and madames telling me this) into “there is a niche for everything and some people will be absolutely into your thing”. I knew I wanted to be more hairy, but still felt social pressure to shave. I still feel it to this day, but more on that later.

Started to get clients who really enjoyed my bush and even asked if I could grow the rest of my hair for our date, especially armpits. I was keen but still dubious as I thought I would be losing income from my other clients in order to satisfy a niche. Sometimes I risked it and went to a date with some hair grown and being afraid I could get rejected because of it, because none of my pictures showed a hairy escort anywhere. But surprisingly for me no one complained.

I ended up realizing that my actual main niche, the natural escort and GFE, already attracts people who want the person as is, and sometimes they are even aroused by a hairy surprise they were not expecting.

With my moving into the UK and a small adjusting on my new conditions and way of working the hairy question was an important one. I researched into other hairy companions and was very glad to find people who looked incredibly beautiful, natural and genuine. I wanted to be like that. I wanted to grow that confidence into defying social pressure and show my beauty in my way.

Still feeling hesitant I made a poll on my Twitter to test the waters, and although I do not do things that the majority want just for the sake of it, I was looking for some reassurance into my decision. After all this is still a business and I need to be aware of that when considering changes into my branding. I remembered that most of those past clients who were so invested into hair were also most of my favourite regulars. If that’s the kind of business I was going to attract, so be it!

I still have high doubts about the legs hair, since I do not find it as pretty as the armpits or bush hair for my tastes. This probably stems from social pressure as I am worried about going out without them shaved but I no longer care about the armpits being shown. I probably need more time to keep evolving.

The good thing is that since I am quite flexible, I really do not mind shaving for the occasional client here and there, or even on my own if I want to do an overall shaving and regrowing phase. With the next photo shoot in a few months I will update my gallery to show up new hairy escort photos, and I just cannot wait to have them!

Natural vs Fake

“I like you because you are natural, not like the other girls who are fake”.

If you are an escort marketing yourself as natural there is good chance you have heard this sentence at some point. Similarly if you enhance yourself you may have received unsolicited advice to “be more natural” or have been criticized for using make-up, high end lingerie, high heels, surgery or enhancing your nails.

If you are a client and have said this, I would like to show you where the problem is.

While it looks like a compliment, any positive comment that comes with “not like the others” at the end is terribly divisive. If you need to put others down to compliment someone you end up insulting people who may be friends with the person you intend to compliment and/or imply that those other things are objectively wrong, which does not make you look good. You have plenty of ways to tell someone what you love about them without needing to state how much you dislike other options that are equally valid too.

But why is the “natural” look so praised and why is there a need to find an enemy for it (i.e. the “fakeness”)?

When I started as an escort I assumed I had to use high heels, make-up, sexy lingerie and any other thing related to canonical standards of beauty. I was afraid because I bite my nails and they don’t look that good, but tried the rest. I was severely uncomfortable with heels and make-up. I can love some lingerie here and there but prefer to be the one designing it rather than wearing. I do love seeing other women rocking beautiful high end lingerie. I consider those art pieces and enhancers in the same way we have a coat, shirt or dress that makes us look and feel better in front of the mirror.

So months later ended up going for the natural route and found there is a fantastic niche for it. I felt relieved for not having to deal with what I thought were superficial people who expected me to be canonically perfect, but was surprised when I found the same type of people on the opposite side: guys who are so into the natural look that they end up being superficial in the same way as those who expect us to have perfect nails. It boils down again to controlling women’s appearance, no matter how good the intentions.

The natural appearance isn’t even well defined. If I shave my legs, my armpits sometimes and almost never my bush, am I still “all natural” or I am suddenly “partially natural”?

Even in the natural niche, some people still expect you to be “naturally perfect”. A canonical beauty but without using any enhancements. Just like that, magic and POOF, you’re perfect but since it’s not “artificial” then it’s good. Same shit with a different glitter wrapping. If you like a specific type of beauty, why is it a problem the way it was achieved? Some people don’t have the physical and/or mental health that extreme dieting and gym takes. Some of us simply can’t exercise that many times a week, or eat healthy every day. I have anxiety, almost on the verge of an eating disorder and some of my joints feel like those of an old person. There’s no “all natural” way for me to be canonically perfect, there will never be. But I could get the appearance I like other ways. Yet I feel paralyzed when I think about how I “should be natural” like if it is a golden rule I need to obey to be myself. I am still myself under a laser treatment that improves my skin (and makes it healthier by the way) and therefore improves my mental health in the long run.

That’s a conversation we are not having in public because everyone is expecting magic. We have to be effortlessly and naturally feminine and beautiful, effortlessly and naturally perfect. This ends up being another impossible to achieve canon in itself, which hurts our mental health. And I think there’s nothing more natural than being the healthiest you can be, even if that means getting a clinic appointment.

Do I find you attractive?

One of the things that turns me off the quickest when I get a new enquiry is a person assuming not only that they are “objectively” handsome and I will love meeting them for that, but that they are “better than my other clients” because of it. It’s a wrong statement in so many levels that I get an instant bad feeling and it’s really hard, if not impossible, that I recover any sort of appreciation for that person neither a desire to meet them. Definitely a fast highway to the email bin.

In the same way that if you need to disrespect my escort peers to compliment me with something like “I like you because you look natural, not like the other fake girls who use make up”, if you use this then you are someone who links standards of beauty to your liking and deems some people are worthy of respect and some aren’t based on how they look or what they decide to use on their bodies. Most of my friends use make up and they’re still beautiful, valid, good people, hard workers and what they use doesn’t turn them into “plastic lifeless dolls”. I’m so tired of getting this kind of message that it has turned into an instant decline in a date. If you only respect escorts that cater to your liking, then you don’t respect escorts at all. You can have preferences without needing to demean what it’s not your cup of tea. A simple “I like this or that thing from you” is enough to be a compliment. That’s it. No need to compare or bring others down.

This same thing happens with society’s stereotypes for clients. It’s so assumed that they must be ugly in order to pay for sex and companionship, that those who can stand inside the strict lines of normative beauty think they have an advantage over most of the others and feel the need to blast their appearance status as if it was important.

Now, there’s some people who do care about it, and it’s fine to do so if that’s your call. I only criticize the need to bring others down to up yourself or someone else. I certainly don’t give a damn. I do have my own preferences, such as men over 35, beards or gray/brown/dark hair; but they are not decisive for me to like a person’s appearance. Someone can be a normative dark haired mature man with a glorious beard and still be a gross entitled prick, and that would become ugly in my eyes. When I was 19 I fell for a terribly handsome guy that mistreated almost every single girl he hanged out with. Through the years his appearance didn’t change but the way I perceived it did. He’s working as a model now, and when I look at a pic of him I see an ugly person. Not a handome guy that I know is a bastard, but an ugly person. Physically. I don’t know if this is something that happens just to me or it’s a usual thing, but my perception of physical beauty can really move based on the person’s behaviour.

On the other hand, I have met plenty of men who were “not handsome” or even ugly by society’s standards, whose appearance didn’t tell me anything in particular the first time I met them, but that with time and getting to know them I started to appreciate their eyes, the way their voice sounded, the way they looked at things, the beauty of their hands and many other physical attributes that turned beautiful to me.

Over the years I have been asked many times how can I have sex with “people I must not like”, and I tend to respond that I only have sex with people I like. I do know there’s a catch here, and that they think I must be meeting only “objectively” handsome people, and are left there scratching their heads as to how could there be clients who may look like models and why would they need to pay for sex then! It’s fun to play with people’s heads, specially when it’s their own fault for assuming everyone thinks the same. It’s a prejudiced question based on the idea that all clients must be ugly or else they wouldn’t be paying so they get a troll response back, but one that is actually true.

In this group of people I like to have intimacy with there’s a wide diverse array of sizes, skin colours, ages and body features. What they share in common is that they deeply respect me and my peers.

When contacting me don’t be worried about if I find you attractive or not. Be worried about being a respectful person and everything else will come out naturally.

When I went online

On the closing months of 2019 I decided to take a rest from sexwork due to a mix of personal issues, wanting to rebrand in order to restart in London with a better presence and a bit of a burnout from living in Barcelona. I had enough savings to get me through several months and to pay for the move, so there I went.

Breaks are a good thing to take from time to time, not because I think the job is bad but because I put so much energy and emotional labour into it. Every year I get more intimate and make it more personal. When I started I could see “anyone” and perform almost “anything” for money, except the clear red lines. Money is money, and a job is a job, right?. Well, that idea has changed since then and now I work differently.

I went to the UK, settled myself in a small house outside London and started to fix my website. Surely in a few weeks I’d be working as normal. I was already eager to start!

And then, a virus hit the world.

Since I had my savings and by then it looked like it would be a matter of one or two months I could certainly wait, paint more, relax and just stay at home until it ended and I could go back to work again. I saw colleagues quickly turning online to places like OF or AVN in order to make a living. I didn’t like the idea and seemed like a lot of work so I just thought that putting those hours in my small business would surely help growing it.

I did have some webcam experience in the past but I don’t think it could account to anything since it was only three months, I was very new and inexperienced at sexwork, didn’t enjoy it and just thought that it wasn’t for me. Well, I was right. I don’t enjoy online sexwork and it hurts me more than it helps.

Eventually I just gave up the thought that I could be back to work in a few months and decided to create an account on AVN. I refused to use OnlyFans as they have been savagely anti-sexworkers, deplatforming them and stealing their earnings just because they dared to offer in-person meetings, even if it was not on their site. On top of that they had tons of reports for problems with payments and it felt like a very risky choice.

So the time of transitioning to online sexwork started for me and I thought about what could I bring to the table amidst a pandemic having heavily multiplied the online presence of everyone. With a saturated market, I should offer something unique and different… right? I have always loved niche markets.

There I went, with my naked reading videos, painting, talking, playing silly… Some of you already know me, I like to have fun and love what I do, whatever it is, else I couldn’t do it. But I didn’t realise I had gotten so personal over my work throughout the years and that was not helping here. More on that later.

The first week I was excited, I recorded plenty of things, did photo sessions with my new selfie stick, loved the result, uploaded everything and went onto marketing it on my Twitter. Got a few subscribers, sent some free trials to clients who had helped me already, etcetera.

It went well until it exploded. After my third session of recording I had a meltdown. I couldn’t bear with it anymore. I couldn’t even market that new content I had made that day (it’s still there untouched, unpublished). I decided it was time to quit something I hadn’t been liking all along, and I already knew that time was going to eventually come.

At the start of this post I mentioned that every year I get more intimate and make it more personal, so this was actually the problem. I don’t want to imply that online work is cold, because it’s different for every person who does it, and some people can find warmness in it, but I don’t. I can’t.

What I love from dating in person is that I get to see people’s faces the moment we talk about or do something they like, or during sex. I get to see real life reactions, interact with that, work with that. I get to know people when they’re vulnerable, intimate, real, themselves. And I love that.

When I got subscribers to my online work (don’t get me wrong, I thank a lot each of them) I couldn’t feel that. I did know some of them in person already, but about the rest, I hadn’t a clue of who they were, what things they liked, what reactions would they have to my content. It was like if I was acting inside one of those rooms with a mirror that can be seen from the other side, but you can’t see through them who’s looking at you and how they react. It felt cold, impersonal. I simply couldn’t “connect” and I base all my work on the connections I can make with the people I meet.

All this was damaging my mental stability and self-esteem. It had to stop and I knew it. I started moving around old contacts and got a little gig that could keep me up for these months, and then stopped updating my AVN. I didn’t market it further on Twitter, sent apology letters to subscribers, offered to email them the unpublished content unedited in bulk and we called it quits. I still feel bad for being “unprofessional” for not being able to continue a project I started, but I think my mental health goes first.

Ironically, when I went to cash in my little earnings my bank refused to take the payment so I’m glad I did the change because if I had decided to continue I wouldn’t have earned money that month after all the mental work I needed to put there and that would have made things severely worse.

I’m still on Twitter as always, I’ll be still uploading my usual selfies and such and waiting for the pandemic to ease a lot in order to work again in the way I do enjoy to work. But I’m happy that I could experience different things, learn that they are not for me and have an increased appreciation for all the effort that sexworkers put into going online. It’s a ton of work, it doesn’t look like it is from the outside and I’m sick of hearing “all you have to do is take a few pics and money rains on you”. It doesn’t work that way. It’s real work. It’s hard work. It’s mental effort. It can take a toll. Please respect it. Value it. Pay for it.

What is a “real connection”?

There’s a lot of people seeking a “real connection” with an escort. Through all my years at sexwork I have seen the utmost importance connection has in these kind of experiences. It’s something that seems basic to me, that I was already seeking to provide and look for in my encounters without having taken any look at marketing or client loyalty at all. How am I going to enjoy some time with people I have just met if I can’t make a connection of some sort?

But sometimes the wrong kind of person who wants and expects a real connection approaches us. I’m talking about the people who seek providers that would give them a real, good connection, but don’t play their part on it. They expect some kind of magic to happen, that someday, among all the women they have booked, they will find THAT escort.

I work solely based on feeling and decide if I’ll meet someone based on the way they introduce themselves and how their approach is. I’ve found, through all these years, countless people starting in a really bad way, not giving out any info whatsoever to make me feel safe or at least know what they want, and expecting a “real connection”, blaming the escort world for not having provided it yet, and for it to not show in front of them magically.

The thing is, the opportunity has been in front of them many times. They simply chose to not take it, to not read an ad, a website, to not dwell into someone’s personality, to not take the time to write a proper introductory e-mail that made me, or the likes of me, feel secure and eager about meeting them.

Months ago, when I was already replying to almost any message I got, except the most stupid ones, I got to see what their logic was like. They usually told me that “all escorts were the same”, “all the ads said the same shit” and “why would I read anything if it’s always the same”. I can get the point, I have seen myself thousands of similar lines of copy in escort ads. I write my own and it’s very personal, specially because of that; to stand out of the mass and show that I am just my real self. I can understand not wanting to read over and over the same words.

But what I cannot understand is seeking for a connection while thinking we are all the same and we all write the same things. Connection is based on two people’s feeling. You may connect with this but not with this other one, and they may both have good personalities and good copy portraying them. If you think everyone is the same, how exactly are you going to find any connection with anyone? How are we going to get a great feeling from your first impression if you don’t care the least bit about reading?

Feeling and connection is built between both, not magically done with a wand and TA-DA, there you have your stellar experience, sir. You are an important piece of having a stellar experience. We respond to how you behave and while there may be providers who don’t want to build connections and work in a different way, there are others who do want to build them, but we can’t just fake them or make them out of thin air.

Do your research, take your time, read everything about those who attract you and contact them showing that amount of respect for their time and effort in their copies, and the chances of you having a fantastic connection will skyrocket. If you prefer to keep thinking that we are all the same, don’t be bewildered if you always find… “the same”.

Show, don’t tell

With the time and experience of being an escort you learn to see through the bullshit more easily. A somewhat good and bad thing is that society thinks that companions are stupid and scammable, so that translates into people trying to get advantage of us over and over, but we end up learning the tricks enough to see through them and appear stupid at the same time. Oh, the wonders of acting dumb.

Sometimes, under a beautiful mask of wording and and a nice introduction I can smell it. “I’m looking to see you regularly” between some other sentences, just to make it appear as if it was a casual idea that just came to their mind and wanted to focus on other more important things. I never realized I was already smelling the bullshit behind this phrase when I thought “but Sir, you haven’t met me yet, how could you know that you will see me regularly?”

And then experience came and hit me on the face. Absolutely not one single client who said this on their introductory email ever booked again. On the other hand, my regulars and trusted supporters never said anything about it and simply repeated again and became real regulars.

Two circumstances come to my mind. First, and the one I’ve seen regarded as a “tactic” on some online forums, is using this phrase to catch the escort’s attention and make her behave “better” on one single date in hopes she will get a regular suitor.

This one doesn’t really make sense for me, as I’m always myself and the way I behave depends entirely on how I’m treated, and not on promises and hopes that don’t fill my stomach today. Is there any proof that they will surely repeat other than that they said it? There’s no way to guarantee a repeat client other than being honest, good and exactly what you marketed. And still that doesn’t make it a guarantee.

The other circumstance is people wanting a specific and controlled experience that if it gets the slightest outside of what was on their minds, they discard the experience as a whole. I talked about fantasies vs reality in the past and honestly, if someone needs their fantasy fulfilled exactly how it was in their minds in order to become a regular, maybe I’m not the companion for them and that’s not the kind of regular suitors I want.

So if you’re thinking about contacting me, please, don’t tell me that you will be a regular in hopes of getting a better treatment from me, because you have chances of getting slightly the opposite, as I will be suspicious and wary of your attitude and behavior, and therefore that will make me more nervous and tense and the experience will be worse when it could have been perfect by just simply contacting me the normal way and enjoying how much love I put into my work, either if you want to repeat or not. Just show me how you are instead of telling me.

Why I work low volume and why I made it harder to contact me

It’s not a secret that I’m quite delicate. Maybe from reading my copy, maybe from reading my Twitter you can get that I need (and provide) plenty of self-care. When I was younger I used to be very selfless and tried to take care of everyone who needed it around me, and as you can guess, that ended badly for me.

I’m empathetic and kind, even when sometimes I may not want to. I used to try to understand each and every person who contacted me in the past, but that ended burning me out. This industry is full of absolute timewasters and freebie collectors, and when you can’t tell apart which one is which, you need to put up some measures to preserve yourself and your mental sanity.

I have worked in many different industries, ranging from fast food to videogames, and at some point I was an illustration freelancer and had to deal myself with the clients, like I do now. I got used to a stupid one here or there, but overall normal contacts and people genuinely seeking my services. None of that ever prepared me for sexwork’s drama.

I never got a client at the fast food asking what the menu items were over and over just to hear my voice telling them. I never got an illustration client contacting me through different e-mails over and over trying to get me to work with them once I told them that what they were looking for was not my painting style. The level of bullshit I found at sexwork was unbelievable, and I had to learn to deal with it over time.

Sometimes I still feel bad for not being super nice and awesome with every single person that talks to me, but I simply can’t. I have to save my energy and kindness for those who are going to appreciate it truly. For those who are going to make me feel cared for, and not taken advantage of. Which leads us to why I prefer working low-volume.

Don’t get me wrong, choosing between low or high volume is just a matter of your circumstances and preferences and in no way I’m saying that working high volume is bad. It’s simply not made for me, I already tried, spent a few years at it and just couldn’t deal with that amount of work. Some years ago my phone was buzzing almost every ten minutes, and most of the contacts were timewasters. It was hard to get that one genuine client but I had to be nice with every single person just to be able to find that one. I ended up saving my own stats during two years so I could see for myself how much time I wasted: Twitter Stats Thread

Doing that thread opened my eyes, although I was already suspicious of the results. I decided to stop replying to people who didn’t put in any effort on contacting me and instead focusing my energies on those who did. By giving my time to people that respect it I’m treating them way better than I was when I had to divide my attention among everyone.

Some months ago I also decided to get rid of my phone number and attend solely by e-mail. I noticed the most respectful gentlemen contacted that way, so again, I focused my energies on them. Sure, my volume lowered again, but the quality of my encounters skyrocketed.

Have I lost some genuine clients by ignoring bad contacts? Probably.
Have I lost some genuine clients by deleting my phone number and only allowing email? Probably.
But for those I’m still available, the experience I offer got way better and now they can have my undivided attention. That’s a win-win for everyone, except the timewasters, who now may be missing my eternal kindness.

Who am I?

I don’t usually go by my full website name, Little Miss Lilu. I’m simply Lilu. I wanted a surname to differentiate myself a bit more, so there were no mistakes finding me, but in the end, Lilu is playful and I like how it sounds. It represents me well.

The thing is, I’m not exactly “little” (I’m not big either, I’m just average?) and sometimes people confuse “miss” with me being a mistress, so it has made quite it’s way into fun misunderstandings. Why Little Miss Lilu then? I love doing name games, and picking them based on what they mean to me. If I’m going to work with a name for a long time, I may as well love it! And me being a creature of the early 90s I identify a lot with special movies and popular culture.

So as some of you can already predict, yes, Little Miss Lilu comes from Little Miss Sunshine. This movie is about a family trip through lots of states for their little girl to participate in a children’s beauty pageant contest. Major spoilers ahead!

So the thing I loved the most about this movie is the ending. Don’t get me wrong, all this movie is fantastic. The character construction, their arches, the script, everything is original and interesting. But the ending sums up my feelings with this movie. We have followed the whole family, with their ups and downs, in a crazy road trip, and all this time we were asking ourselves what the hell was the girl going to do in the pageant contest. She didn’t look like your average participant but was extremely confident about being a winner.

And then it unveils. She’s playing a game. She’s not participating from an adult’s perception of beauty. She’s playing what her grandpa taught her. She’s playing a stripper not knowing that it’s an adults thing. She’s still being a child, pure and funny. Just for the laughs. So that pretty much made me connect a lot with it. I would do that sort of thing if I was forced to go into a beauty pageant (I’m such a troll). I believe in the diversity of beauty, I don’t define it by society’s standards, and this movie spoke to me in this way. What is beauty? Confidence, fun, and, why not, laughing off at awful adults along the way.

Those into the 90s sci-fi movies will already have a hint at another reference. Lilu itself is a form of “Leeloo” from The Fifth Element. I started working in Spain, where Leeloo would be absolutely mispronounced and “lelo” is something more like “stupid” so it was not an option to use the real name, but I still wanted it.

The Fifth Element is one of my all time favorite movies. I think it shaped my early love for fantasy space opera. Leeloo is not just “the girl”, like many other fantasy/sci-fi movies have. She’s “the supreme being”, she has a personality, she has good and bad traits, she’s well constructed. And she sometimes saves the day, instead of Bruce Willis. She can be strong and vulnerable at the same time, and that was amazing for me to connect with. I believe in strength through vulnerability, and Leeloo evolves throughout the movie thanks to this.

Let’s not forget that this movie also features a fantabulous character who looks and acts “gay” by society’s standards, but isn’t! God bless not needing to deem someone gay depending on how their mannerisms and behavior are. I always loved Ruby Rhod’s confidence and expression. He’s happy being who he is, and even in the worst situations, still has humor to conduct a show. He’s a fucking example on how to be professional!

There’s more things I love about this movie, like the diva, the overall bizarre aesthetic, Gary Oldman being the bad guy (like, could he be the bad guy of all movies please? thanks), the fact that Jean Paul Gaultier was the costume designer… It’s a classic of my childhood for me and it will always be in a prominent place in my heart.

“Izar” was the last addition to Lilu’s name. I wanted a basque element on it but I still wanted it to be special and sound good, so I was looking again at what shaped my nerdiness years later than the 90s. And I found it in a movie about a nerd from the 80s that finds more nerds and they all share a movie full of retro songs. I’m talking about my favorite Marvel movie: Guardians of the Galaxy.

I overall love Marvel’s movies. I think the Infinity saga has shaped a generation [into appreciating the quality of movies other than dramas] and the Endgame release day was the best experience I’ve ever had on a theater (plus it was my birthday, so it was more amazing). Endgame gave me chills like no other in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but Guardians of the Galaxy won my heart forever.

Long story short, and spoilers ahead again, there’s a specific moment I love from this movie, apart from how stupidly nerd it was for being a superhero movie.

So, we have the bad guy, Ronan, calling the heroes “the guardians of the galaxy” with a mocking tone, meaning how they think they are “someone” in the world and in the end they amount to nothing, they can’t protect anything, they’re just a bunch of useless misfits. The useless misfits narrative has been prevalent through the movie. All of them are unique in who they are, either last of their races or just unfit into their overall societies, and we have gone over their emotional journey on how they don’t belong anywhere.

And near the ending, when the tables turn and Starlord takes the infinity stone, he is joined by the rest of the group, which makes it stable enough to use the power against Ronan. Ronan can’t believe what he’s seeing and says “You are mortal… how?” and Starlord replies “You said it yourself bitch, we are the guardians of the galaxy” and then releases the power of the stone, killing him.

I always loved the idea of taking the insults and slurs made against you and empower yourself with them. It’s a powerful move against the bullies, you leave them unarmed. If they can’t hurt you with what they think you are, what can they hurt you with?

But Lilu, what does “Izar” mean? It has nothing to do with this movie!

Izar in basque means “Star”.

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