No pleasure without pain
- Apr. 1st, 2008 at 11:56 AM
Well – It’s been a while since I had a booking, and I was beginning to worry whether I had just had bad feedback. In the meantime, I went to London to have my photoshoot for the agency website done.
I caught a train to London Paddington and then the tube to Canary Wharf, followed by a bus to the area where the studio was based. Before I went, the agency recommended I have a spray tan done as the photos in the studio tend to ‘whiten’ you out, which was an experience in itself – think posing like superman in your pants in front of a beautifully groomed beautician with spray gun!!! As I was waiting for a bus I was approached by a black man, who kept winking at me. He asked if I was from Hungary (WTF?) as I had beautiful skin tone. I have never been so glad for a bus to arrive as I was at that moment!
The studio was located in a little business park, through a doorway and up some stairs. It was basically a large, airy room with ‘stations’ around the edge. ‘Ben’ the photographer directed me to a little room and asked me to put my first outfit on, and do my make up. The agency had asked me to take several sets of lingerie, plus my make up, and some pairs of heels – of course I didn’t own any naughty lingerie yet having had no need for it, so had recently been on a shopping trip to La Senza and Ann Summers!
I put my first outfit on – a red body suit type thing with suspenders, stockings, black heels and red matching thong. I did my make up like I thought it should be done, which the photographer found hilarious – he commented I was obviously new to all this and too innocent to be in this line of work. He then re-did my make up for me, putting on much thicker than I had done originally.
The first set of shots were with me standing up against a pole with my head turned looking back over my shoulder. He had a fan which blew my (straightened and dyed) hair back behind me and I tried my best to look alluring and sexy, kicking one heel up in the air and smirking and posing. I then did a few shots without the clothes and just with the heel and thong, before moving on to the next area and outfit – a gold and black basque and thong against a textured wall with low lighting. Next, a pink and black bra and pants set balanced on a stool, followed by a few different poses on a chair and against a wall.
I really regretted eating before I came to the shoot, especially as it was bread. It really bloated my stomach, and although the photographer said nothing, I knew I looked hideous. I hoped he would look his wonders with the tools you can use on photoshop.
As it happens, I had a call from the agency a few days later, telling me that the photos were great, although they had been slimmed down a bit, so it might be a good idea if I thought about going on a little bit of a diet. Must do better – I’ll start running and watching what I eat, I can’t afford to get any complaints.
Moving on, I had a job last night which was a 2 hour job about an hour away from my house, so I set off early and made it in good time. It was a home visit and the first thing I noticed was the silver BMW on the drive. This is normally the sign of a businessman, sometimes a bachelor but mostly one whose wife is away (it looked like a typical family home). When he opened the door he was nothing like I expected – young, handsome and friendly – I was expecing older, grey perhaps? He later explained the reason he was using an escort was that he had 2 boys, and he didn’t want to put them through the trauma of different women coming and going, he just wanted sex, his way, no strings. I probably should have heard the alarm bells ringing when he made this comment but I suppose I was not experienced enough to do so.
After the initial chats sat on stools in the kitchen, I asked him if he wanted to go upstairs, he said no, and wondered if we could do something out of the ordinary. He asked me to follow him into the living room, taking my hand, and stood me up in front of his large plasma TV. He then sat down in a single armchair in front of me, and using the remote control, switched the TV on behind me, on to a music channel. Looking me straight in the eye, he barked an order – “Dance.”.
It took me a few seconds to process what he had said. I was not expecting this. I am the most uncoordinated, awkward dancing person you will ever meet, but against all my insecurities (and urge to clap my hands to the music and do the timewalk) I slowly started to move, in what I hoped was seductively, keeping eye contact with him and sliding my hands up and down my body, over my breasts. ‘Strip. Leave your thong and heels on’ he commanded. I did not like this being ordered about. It was a new experience for me, most men so far had been affectionate, rather than aggresive. I slowly started to strip, trying to look as natural as I could. I was struggling to remove my top (oh how sexy) so decided I had to give up and slowly moved towards him, motioning that he could undo it for me, and the basque underneath too. He was a little rough with me, but nothing too bad, and I knew he was turned on because he had a massive erection pushing upwards against the seat of his jeans.
The face of BPD ~ A 16 year old Borderline…
I found myself kneeling in front of me, and he barked once again ‘Pleasure me’, so I inzipped his fly, pulled his boxers down to allow his cock to spring out and quickly took him in my mouth. The big shocker for me was when I realised he was completely shaved! Why do men to that? It must itch so bad! I wasn’t going to complain, it was great for me, there’s nothing worse than getting pubes stuck in your mouth when giving oral! He rested his hands on the back of my head, which I am used to, but was a little wary when he took hold of my head as I knew what was coming. Suddenly, he grabbed my hair hard, and forced my head down, causing his cock to go deep in my throat. I immediately felt the urge to gag, but managed to suppress it, the same time releasing myself. I asked him not to do it again, and he replied ‘I’ve paid for you haven’t I?’ I decided not to push the point, and went back to giving him oral.
Alarm bells were ringing, but yet again, I ignored them. I suppose I had some sense of loyalty to the agency, perhaps I didn’t want to feel like I had let anyone down, or perhaps I didn’t want to get any feedback.
Suddenly, he stood up, knocking me back so I was sat on the floor looking up at him. He put his hands underneath my armpits, lifted me up and turned me round, pushing me against the wall. Before I knew what was happening, he had forced four fingers inside me, pushing hard, causing a sharp pain and making me cry out. ‘You like that bitch?’ he asked. Now, I like being fingered, doesn’t everyone? But four fingers (and he didn’t have particularly small hands) was just too much, in that manner anyway. It was at this point I think I began to dissasociate. Everything became a little hazy, and although I knew where I was, I didn’t seem to care anymore. At some point he stopped fingering me and starting fucking me, and I just hoped to myself he was using a condom.
After several minutes of being fingered, he wrapped his hand around my hair and said to me ‘Walk’, turning me round and pushing me forwards, towards the stairs, keeping hold of my hair. When we got to the bedroom, he lay down on the bed and asked me to kneel inbetween his legs. I gave him more oral, and he asked me to lick his balls. I did, and then decided to be brave, and took an entire one in my mouth, making him cry out. I was very gentle, and was pleased that I was making him feel that good. He asked if I had another condom (silent thanks to the fact he must have used one earlier) and I reached into my bag and retrieved one. I decided to be even more brave, to opened the packet, popped it in my mouth and managed to place it on, and roll it down, his erect cock, just using my mouth and no hands. He looked impressed! (Little did he know, my friend Hel and I had spent many nights practicing this with cucumbers!!!!!)
The face of BPD ~ A 18 year old Borderline… (With rudey bits blanked out for your own safety (lol))
As soon as the condom was on, he stood up and threw me down on the bed, and when I tried to turn over to face him, he told me no. ‘Put your hands behind your back’ was the next thing he said. I prayed and prayed that he wasn’t going to handcuff me, as I was already feeling vulnerable and that would make things even worse. Thankfully, he didn’t, and I just kept my hands held together by myself. He then asked me to spread my legs, and keep quiet. He entered me from behind, hard. I was thankful that my head was resting on his pillows as it stopped me from crying out. It went on and on. I started to need to pee, but didn’t dare say anything. It was almost as though he was using me as a piece of meat, especially when he shuffled up the bed, resting his palms on the wall, and pummeling me as hard as he could. Occasionally he reached round and tweaked my nipples, or rubbed my clit, but where normally I find both of these pleasurable, they were everything but. Finally, he cried out and came. I asked him if I could go to the toilet, and then went into the en-suite.
It actually stung when I peed, and when I wiped, there was blood. I felt sick from the experience, and wanted to cry so much. I held it together, and went back into the room, thanking my lucky stars that the two hours were nearly over. He asked me to come back to the bed, and I could see he had another condom on. I shuddered inwardly. Is this man on steroids or something???? He asked me to lie on my front again, and entered me. Thankfully, this time, although painful, he wasn’t so rough, but seem to be having trouble.
He kept going soft, and started to get angry. I asked if it was my fault, but he didn’t reply. I decided to give him more oral, and tried to pull myself together, to get back in control of the situation, despite wanting to go home and cry myself to sleep. I pulled myself together, gave him my best performance, and made him come. When he was done, I got up, got dressed, and got ready to leave. He thanked me, and showed me to the door. ‘See you again?’ he asked, with an expectant look on his face. ‘If you want to’ I replied, knowing full well I would rather poke pencils in my eyeballs than have another appointment with this vile, vile man.
I held myself together until I got back to my car, where I broke down, and sobbed my heart out. Even sitting down hurt. Why am I doing this to myself??? Why am I putting myself through this? Putting myself in these situations? I suppose you have to take the good with the bad, that’s why the money is so good. I know why this man treated me like that. If I don’t have enough respect for myself to actually think I am above being an escort, how should I expect anyone else to respect me?
- Location:In bed
- Mood: apathetic
- Music:Norah Jones – Sunrise