I get to my feet again, slowly. A glance to the wings and I see Josh in the shadows holding two thumbs-up. So far so good. I stand before the empty seats and breathe deeply, regaining my composure.
And then begins my show.
Act one is where I strip myself bare down to my lacy underwear for the first time, nervous after having just signed up as an entertainer.
I grab a simple dildo from the props at the side of the stage, and re-enact my first proposal. Sucking the shaft with a vigour, then dropping to the floor and fucking myself with a simple in and out, with a dulled expression on my face.
It was boring.
Too boring.
I hope my performance conveys the truth as I finish up and give athank youto the invisible client on stage with me.
Act two is where I grow more confident.
I present myself in a tight black dress, laughing and smiling at imaginary clients before I suck off dildos like I mean it this time. My head bobbing in a fervour.
I fuck myself in the right spot to get me rampant. I bare my tits and tug at my nipples, and let the real sensations wash over me. Thinking back to my early experiences and how much fun I had as I ticked off the first boxes on the Naughty List.
I get down on all fours at the front of the stage and bare my asshole, and finger myself in the spotlight. I spit on a dildo andslide it between my spread cheeks, moaning with true meaning as I dialogue with imaginary clients.
Take it all you filthy slut.
Yes, sir, I’ll take everything you’ve got to give.
And then, I come for the guy in the front row.
The bright lights blur overhead, and I am lost in the highs of the sensations. The smile on my face is all real as the reams of clients I’ve been with zip in clips behind my eyes.
So many experiences. So much fun.
So much money.
I tell the audience that, too.
My commentary is all real as I tick the boxes on an imaginary laptop, and profess I’m going to hit the top of the hardcorer tree one day.
This is crazy. The whole experience is crazy. A blur of fantasy and reality that is so surreal, I feel I’m looking in on myself from afar.
I offer a striptease from a tight latex dress for my next number. I perform with a confident smile as I double fuck myself and squirt all over the wooden stage floor, without giving a shit for the consequences.
And I’m grinning now, because in the aftermath I can hear the guy in the front row, his heavy breaths, and I’m sure he’s jerking off.
I retreat to the side of the stage and rush into my college uniform after that scene, skipping back into the spotlight with a backpack on my back.
Daddy!I say.Daddy, I’m home!
I pictureDaddyin my mind while I’m performing. His amazing silver fox hair and the way he washes me with a flannel in the bathtub. I suck a realistic fleshy dildo and tell Daddy how much I love his cock. I wipe myself clean like he would, and tell him I’m a good girl. A good girl who knows she’s been bad.
By now I’m beaming. Ella coming to life.
The Ella that I am today is coming to the forefront as I find my real identity, free after years of suppression.
Next, I go for the stretch play. I whimper as I use the fake fist on my pussy. I’m groaning like a real fucking slut as I shove the knuckles in and pump it in and out.
Yes, yes, more! Please, yes!
I tell the audience what a slut I’ve become. How my world is shining. How my bank balance is growing along with my confidence.
