I was sweating. My heart was beating fast and hard in my ears. I had been dreaming of this day for a long time, saving my money and counting down the days. I had been nervous that maybe she would be busy or unavailable on the day I could finally get time off work to visit, but there she was, right before my eyes. I had seen her in photos and videos before, but it was a whole different experience seeing her in real life. She was exactly how I like my women — regal, enchanting, and cruel. She beckoned me towards her and I stepped forward with bated breath. I could smell her sweat through her dress. She was hot. So was I. Her eyes zeroed in on me like she was stalking prey. Her upper lip curled into an evil smile.

"May I kneel beside you, your Highness?" I begged.

"You have very good manners," she said. Her voice was like velvet. "You may."

My heart soared with glee as I knelt beside her, grinning from ear to ear.

"Say 'Mickey!'" said the photographer, and snapped a photo of me and The Wicked Queen in front of Sleeping Beauty's castle in Disneyland. I was in heaven.

I recently made my pilgrimage south to pay my tithe to the great golden mouse of capitalism. During the second annual Yo Ho: Harlots Day at Disneyland.

Yo Ho, organized by Bay Area kink professionals Mona Darling and Penny Barber, is a sex worker retreat to the happiest place on earth. The weekend offers an opportunity for sex workers to network with other folks in the business, as well as "ride the rides, have fun with their families, see the shows, and make sexual innuendos in line at the Corn Dog Castle."

As sex workers, our business is fantasy, and I certainly need to take a break sometimes and let someone else create the magic for a change. Disneyland is where I go to recharge my batteries so I can keep making dreams come true. When I feel like I'm getting close to burning out on blow jobs and porn sets, I know that all I need is a spoonful of sugar and a weekend trip to Anaheim.

I pay for an annual pass to Disneyland, about the same amount of money people spend on a two-hour session with me. Some people choose to spend their entertainment dollars on things like Call of Duty or a subscription to FacialAbuse.com. Some people indulge in "the girlfriend experience" every few months. I go to Disneyland.

My favorite part of Disneyland, by far, is meeting the characters. The experience is one-half Santa Claus visit, one-half strip-club visit. I always walk away thinking, "Wow! I think she really liked me."

I've waited in line for more than an hour with hundreds of other people in the scorching Southern California sun, just to take a picture and have a 30-second conversation with a 19-year-old girl dressed like Tinkerbell. But those 30 seconds were priceless. I got flustered. I tripped over my words. But it seemed like she didn't notice. She was just so pretty. It's like suddenly we were the only two people who existed on the planet. She batted her eyelashes and softly touched the tattoo on my arm. We made small talk and she said something charming and perfect about Neverland and asked me if I had any pixie dust. For a split second, I wondered if she was actually propositioning me. I allowed myself the tiniest moment to fantasize about her and me snorting lines of pixie dust and fucking in a golden pirate ship on the Peter Pan's Flight ride. I quickly snapped out of it and smiled for my picture. My cheeks blushed as I shyly waved goodbye to the adorable blond pixie.

I can hear you judging me. Don't. I've seen the way the princesses and pixies giggle and toss their hair. They use the very same tactics that I use in sessions with my clients. They focus on me, keep it light, and charm my pants off. It's deeply refreshing to be on the receiving end of all that energy for a change. They are professionals at Disneyland, and I respect that; but thank God cast members aren't allowed to accept tips. If Disney characters hustled for cash like strippers, this weekend would have left me penniless. I think I come to Disneyland for the same reason my clients come to see me: to escape into a world of fantasy and believe (at least for 90 minutes) that the world is full of heroes and everyone gets a happy ending.