Although it is a myth that professional girls rush to their gynecologist for fortnightly checkups, whenever we have a problem, Dr. Jonathan Sayer, as I’ll call him, is the man we go to.

He is a good doctor, broad-minded, devotes a lot of time to each patient, and his prices are fair – $50 for the first visit and $25 thereafter.

He is also the first doctor I have come across in this country whom it is possible to be alone with. Unlike in Europe, doctors here have you all bundled up in gowns and tied with strings and presented like a giftwrapped package, with the nurse looking on like a hawk.

Dr. Sayer, however, sees you alone, and while his bedside manner is devastating, so far as I know he has never made a pass at a patient, despite many of their attempts to persuade him to do so.

Several girls, I understand, who have fallen on lean times have asked to pay their bills in trade, but he has politely declined. One lovestruck patient, recognizing that she would never get him into bed, bought him a bullwhip one Christmas and pleaded, “Doctor, just beat me up a little, please.”

How do professionals protect themselves against pregnancy and other occupational hazards? How do they overcome the unproductive four-day period?

Most girls prefer to protect themselves by using the Pill, although some use a diaphragm. This useful little gadget is also a professional trick for holding back the menstrual flow.

The way we do it is to douche thoroughly first, then insert the diaphragm, then douche again to remove traces of blood and the vaginal jelly, and it is impossible to detect that a girl is in that time of the month.

Although this effectively holds back the flow, this method gives you only half an hour’s respite, and has to be removed immediately.

Some girls overcome the four-day inconvenience by using large wads of cotton. I do not recommend this method because a strong partner can push the cotton to regions from which only a gynecologist can retrieve it.

A little sponge is another handy gadget that serves the same purpose, and unlike the cotton, retains its cohesion.

One of the working girl’s best friends is a little product called Koromex jelly. This violet-flavored lubricant will ease the way when passion does not. That is to say, if a girl has spent her natural lubrication or is not turned on by a man, a little lubricant helps out. Too much friction can injure a girl’s vagina.

Who are prostitutes, and how did they get into the business in the first place?

A lot of them are part-time models or actresses failed in their ambitions or waiting to realize them.

A lot are dyed-in-the-wool whores who have known no other gainful employment. On the other hand, many girls come into the business for a specific amount of time to make quick money, and then split.

Only stupid girls are likely to hang into this business until they are forty or worn-out or pregnant or drug users and don’t know what to do anymore.

I admire the girl who is smart enough and has sufficient willpower and resistance to get out after she has made a killing; and keep a straight job with less money.

Two examples are Gayle and Gilda, both very intelligent girls and both knowing exactly what they wanted from the business.

Gayle got out when she married a very nice account executive from a big ad agency. She thanked me for helping her earn the money that made it possible to attract her man, and moved out to Westchester County with her husband.

However, three months later she was on the phone again saying her husband was gambling two nights a week and she needed extra money to pay some of his debts; also, she didn’t dig sitting around at home doing nothing. She came and worked for a while, but vanished when her husband gave up his gambling.

Gilda was working for a big brokerage house in Wall Street when her boyfriend got involved with the Mafia bad guys and was in debt to the tune of several grand.

Gilda, who had absolutely no head for prostitution and was basically very square, indeed prudish, turned out to be a great $200 dinner date whom men took on social-business dinners. She came to me knowing exactly what she wanted, and after earning it, left again. She had what I called willpower, because when I have called her up since to offer her a quick $50 or $100, she has refused.

Some little rich kids get into the business for kicks or out of a desire to be rebellious, but in my experience they get out quick and marry the guy back home whom they ran away from in the first place.

There is a saying that prostitutes make the best wives. This to me is definitely a myth.

Prostitutes either become nymphomaniacs or get to hate men, and it is almost impossible for them to settle for one man.

Madeleine has now been married four times, and each relationship has crumbled, sending her back into the business.

As for myself, many times I have been asked, “Xaviera, what’s a girl like you doing in a business like this? Why don’t you get out? You’d make someone a great wife.”

I am not so sure. For me the madam life has become a big ego trip. I enjoy the independence and what’s more, for me prostitution is not just a way to make a living, but a real calling, which I enjoy.

11. DIFFERENT STROKES FOR DIFFERENT FOLKS; OR: WALL STREET AND ME

I’ve got a friend at the Chase Manhattan, the First National City, the Franklin National, the Marine Midland, the Dime, the Greenwich, the Bowery, Manufacturers Hanover, Bankers Trust, the New York Bank for Savings, the Bank of America, the Bank of Israel, the Bank of Tokyo, and just about every other bank, major or minor, operating in this country.

In other words, bankers are among my very best customers.

These money men account for about ten percent of my business, and when you consider the dozens of other professional categories – from athletes to aristocrats, doctors to diplomats, publishers to politicians, lawyers to judges, company presidents and other businessmen, and even some clergy – all patronizing my house, this occupation makes up a substantial share of the market.

There is only one other profession that outranks bankers as dedicated clients, and that is the stockbroker. These are such a horny bunch of brothel-creepers that I would estimate fifty percent of my business is directly tied to the market trends.

If the averages take a significant tumble – the stockbrokers will not!

Happily, the reverse is true, and if it has been a good day on Wall Street, I can be certain that by eleven o’clock that night my phone will ring red hot, or groups of six or eight juiced-up stockbrokers will appear at my door. When the stocks go up, the cocks go up!

Brokers, as a group, are likelier to patronize my premises, whereas the more conservative bankers tend frequently to call up for take-out service. But no matter where, when, how, or why their desire, I always go out of my way to satisfy their demands, because if I don’t, there is always a rival madam who will.

One relatively quiet Friday night this summer I received a late-late call from a regular New York banker customer wanting six girls for the same number of out-of-town investment bankers he was entertaining. It happened that the girls who were not otherwise professionally occupied were already away for the weekend or relaxing with their boyfriends, so in order not to let the bankers down, I decided to take on the assignment by myself.

I was pleased to discover when I went over to the Hilton that they were all staying on the same floor and had appointed their New York host as treasurer, so it was just a matter of negotiating with him a package deal and zipping from one room to the next, boom, boom, fifteen minutes, in, out, and I was back home in two hours considerably richer.