Read Whore Diaries II: Adventures in Independent Escorting for Free Online Page A

can’t tell the difference between these experiences, so it is as if my videos and our calls took place in real life. Then, I point out his twitching eyeballs and deepened breath, loose jaw and floppy lips.
     
     
     
    “It turns me on how deep you’re already going,” I say. This is conversational hypnosis, the art of the slow, inevitable mind trap. Checkmate, I win.
     
     
     
    It does turn me on how slack and limp he goes. Being in control. Now I can do anything I want and he won’t do anything except for lie there and follow my words.  It’s all safe, which makes me wet and that’s kind of fucked up, but that’s where I’m at.
     
     
     
    I do the three deep breaths induction, the progressive relaxation technique, the deepening visualization, and then I wake him up and put him back under twice as deep. My words are magic. I wake him up again and tell him to stand. He moves as through a fog and I pull his pants off, then his shirt, and lay him on the bed. He’s so tall and his hard cock is short and shaped like a triangle. It's pointy at the tip, and so thick at the bottom I don’t think it’ll fit in me.
     
     
     
    I wake him up and put him under three more times. I always do things in threes, because it makes the subject think there is some magical reason that I always do things in threes. Seriously. Then I take him down five times as deep three more times. I have two hours and I’m worried I’ll run out of things to say.
     
     
     
    I move up to his head and wake him up again and ask him three questions and then put him back under three times as deep. Finally I feel the gates of whoredom open up to my mouth and I settle in to say whatever comes out of my mouth. I pet his head and tell him how he’s deeper than he’s ever been before, that this is the most incredible experience of his life, that he is deeper inside himself than he ever has been and he’ll go away with new gifts from his core.
     
     
     
    Then I tell him how turned on he is and his triangle cock gets harder. I play with it for a little bit and then condom up and climb on. I’m still all tingly and tender from the three hours of great sex I just finished, so when I rock back and forth and play with my clit it’s hard not to cum right away. Instead I tell him I’ll count down from 50 to 1 and then we’ll both cum together.
     
     
     
    “50…I know you want to cum so bad…it’s so hard to control yourself with a Goddess using your cock…49…but you absolutely can’t cum until I get to the number one…48…and I’m going to tease the fuck out of you…and keep you right on the edge…for a very long time…47…”
     
     
     
    It’s hard, but I manage to hold out and keep talking without cumming until I get to one, and then we do cum together. His orgasm is small and quiet like a gasping fish with not many gasps left. I roll off and throw the cum-filled condom on the floor. 30 more minutes. I can wake him up when there’s 15 minutes, that way he can get a shower if he wants, but it’ll still feel like getting two hours of trance.
     
     
     
    I tell him he’ll remember all the good feelings, but he won’t actually remember anything that’s happened. He’ll remember getting here and starting to go under, and he’ll remember waking up feeling amazing. Then I run out of things to say so I wake him up.
     
     
     
    “Goddess…” he intones.  “Would you…put me back under…and get me off…or…you know…however you want…to use me…”
     
     
     
    I roll my eyes and put him down in a light trance so he’ll remember and jerk him off. Asshole. 
     
     
     
    That’s the story of how I made over a grand in a few hours.
     

MORE BALLBUSTING
     
     
    “Room 226, he texts, “off the elevator to the right.  I can't wait to serve the Goddess.  Be discreet please, there are coworkers about.”
     
    I check my toy bag and swing it over my shoulder, very purse-like, like I'm traveling and that's my big tote