Whore Diaries II: Adventures in Independent Escorting by Tara Burns Read Free Book Online Page A

grab the fistful of fat and drag him back.  He grabs the pillow and buries his face in it.
     
    After a while, I stop feeling so angry, so I stop whipping him.  This is great therapy.  This is what Susun Weed would call “A” Anger.  That means you feel it right now and you express it right now and just get it all out.  “B” anger is more delayed, stewing, passive-aggressive, then there's “C” anger for childhood issues, and it just keeps going.
     
    I knee him lightly in the balls. 
     
    “Face down ass up!”  Maybe I can exorcise some of my “C” anger this way. 
     
    He crawls up on the bed and kneels on all fours while I pick out a dildo.  It's my vibrating blue one, which is new for him.  Usually I use the black one or the giant purple one.  His safe word is “black,” and one time he yelled it at me and I said, “No silly, this is the PURPLE dildo,” for a second before I remembered his safe word.  I pull a condom over the blue dildo and walk behind him. 
     
    “I told you face down!”  I crack the leather strap over his shoulders and he drops to his elbows, his face in the pillow again.  I drizzle lube up and down his ass crack and he moans.
     
    “Ooh Goddess, thank you Goddess, thank you Goddess...”
     
    I hold the tip of the dildo against his ass and he slowly works himself onto it.  “Oh Goddess, oh Goddess, I don't think I can take it!  We have to start with the small one!”
     
    “You've already sucked the whole thing up your butt, slut,” I tell him, and then I start petting his cock with my lubed hands some more. 
     
    “Ooooh, Goddess, oooh no I'm gonna cum.”
     
    “You don't cum until I say so!”  I punch him lightly in the balls and he half moans and half gasps.  Then I stand up, turn the dial on the vibrating dildo to halfway, and start to hit him again with the leather strap just as he starts to moan his pleasure again.  I alternate hitting him and stroking his cock until there's 10 minutes left, and then I turn the dial all the way up on the vibe and tell him to jack himself off while I whip him. 
     
    Afterwards he just lays on the bed, twitching and gasping.  I pack up my bag and put my bra on, but I don't get all the way dressed.  With Tom, instead of 15 minutes of post-sex snuggles, he gets 15 minutes of post-beating bullshitting.  He really likes to talk, mostly about nothing, but it makes him happy that I'm a “cool girl.” 
     
    When he finally rolls over, he gasps out a thank you, and I put on my cutesy voice to say your welcome, and we giggle.  I know this is the part where I either keep him forever or lose him.
     
    “Tell me how you feel.  How was that for you?”  I really want to know if maybe I went a little too far with my anger, if he would prefer a cold and clinical kind of beating.  Tom isn't really a communicator, though.
     
    “Great, it was great.  So how're things on the river, you got any bears?”

VIRTUE
     
     
     
    He opens the door naked and kneels behind it with the same asshole grin he's had since I met him, like he's getting away with something.  He is.  I lock the door behind me and glance down at him. 
     
    "Stay."  I stride into the room and around the corner.  It's the nice hotel by the airport, the one where all the pilots and oil executives stay.  There's a big kitchenette, a couch, a chair, a bed, tables, and dressers.  On the dresser by the bed he's laid out ropes and straps and gifts for me.  Very pretty and very organized.  What a good boy.
     
    I put my suitcase on the couch and rummage through, pull out condoms and dildos and clothespins and rubber bands and make my own decorative arrangement on the bed.  When I go back around the corner, he's still kneeling by the door.  I sit in the little armchair and take my clothes off while he mumbles.
     
    "Oh goddess, you're so beautiful, oh goddess, your breasts, oh goddess, your ass, oh goddess, oh goddess..."
     
    I sit in the chair, naked for