But what do you actually…do?

Hmmmmmm, interesting stories from my time as an escort…
Well I’ve got lots of those! Some good, some heartwarming –reaffirming your faith in humanity! – some horror stories, some funny, some downright odd I suppose.
But I think I’ll stick with the ones that bring a smile to my face, the ones I don’t really understand but who am I to judge what works for others?
These are the fetishists. Not the run of the mill dom/sub ones – they’re a pound a penny! Or the watersports/hardsports guys. Or even the bin men… Shudder!
I’m talking about the guys who have a very specific fetish, like the foot fetishists. I get a lot of those, I have small feet which they love. I always keep my toenails polished and my feet nice and soft. So they like me! Some of them simply want to caress and kiss my feet, maybe suck my toes a little. Some like to paint my toe nails for me. Others want to see in a selection of shoes and boots – open toed, high heels, platforms, strappy. Some like me to wank them with my feet – harder than it sounds, it uses muscles that don’t usually get that kind of a repetitive workout!
Then there was Mr Shoe.  He would turn up carrying a huge stack of pristine designer shoe boxes. All in my size… Heaven for most women! Not so. He has strict rules about what I wore, on my legs that is – I could have worn a flour sack as long as I had the right stockings on! And we couldn’t meet anywhere  with wooden or laminate floors, it had to be carpeted. Then he would begin to open the boxes, and ooooohhhhh he had good taste! Which just made it harder.
All  I had to do was wear them and pose and walk to his instruction. I honestly can’t remember ever touching him, not even a peck on the cheek. So what’s the hard part you ask? I wasn’t allowed to keep any! He had a huge range of shoes, all in my size, different ones each time, but only ever to be worn on carpet and never mine to keep! Agony for a girl like me. I love shoes.

Another guy who turned up with a stack of boxes was Mr Splosh. He also brought his own tarpaulin. He preferred me either in lingerie, a bikini or naked. No stockings, no shoes. I’d pin my hair up and stand in the middle of the tarp and wait for the onslaught. Of cake!! The boxes were bakery boxes full of cream cakes. He’d throw the cakes at me and pleasure himself as I smeared them all over my body. But again, no sharing for me! I wasn’t allowed to have a sneaky nibble – they weren’t for eating!
One I used to visit in his home was the dancing man. His big fetish was to be the dance floor in a busy nightclub and have lots of women dancing on him, feeling their heels on him, looking up their skirts as they danced.
He would begin with a board which I’d dance on to music he played – all very up to date night club type music, just what I’d dance to on a night out with the girls. He would lie on the floor next to the fireplace so I could hold on to the mantel so I didn’t wobble off. Then he would take the board away and I had to dance on his chest and legs, his groin for short periods too. All the time I would be in my heels. He would also invite other girls too, sometimes there would be three of us on that board!Now, I’ve always been a curvy girl, but I’ve never denied the fact or tried to hide it. Some girls are not so honest… The girl who described herself over the phone as a size 14 but was really closer to a size 20 nearly did for him!!! He told me he’d got another girl coming along, which wasn’t unusual – in fact we often had a great time together! But when she turned up and revealed herself in all her rubenesque glory! Well, he was too polite to turn her away, but he really should have. I was on his chest and I looked down to him and instead of seeing his usual pleasure all I saw was pain. And at the end of the session he always weighed us – there is an online community for this fetish and they used to exchange weights they have taken, that night he must have won some kind of trophy! Although, she really didn’t want to be weighed… I never saw her there again!
So there you go, just a few of the gentlemen who have brought variety to spice up my escorting life. It’s not all boring 😉
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3 comments on “But what do you actually…do?

  1. Veidt says:

    Ha! Ha! Thanks for sharing. I wonder does having a client with unique fetihes (like the ones you’ve mentioned) break up the monotony of the day? And I presume you remeber these client better than the average Joe Soap?

  2. Eileen Lang says:

    Ah now…”torture by designer shoes” is WAY too far outside “safe, sane and consensual” for my liking (NO WAY would I come out sane without ONE SINGLE PAIR) … 😦

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