It’s the armor I feel the strongest with.
When I reach the driver waiting for me outside of my building, I give him a polite smile but nothing more. And once I’m sitting in the car, I wordlessly press the button for the partition.
The twenty-minute ride allows me to go through the mental checklist I’ve perfected.
Appearance: flawless
Voice: low and sultry
Smile: appears genuine
Emotions: numb
It’s essential that I go into my appointments with every item checked off. The first two are for client satisfaction and job security—my job is far easier if I’m seeing repeat, satisfied clients. The third is vital for this job. And the fourth…honestly, I don’t know what it’s like tonotbe numb, but I imagine most escorts require some level of numbness for a job like this.
Who knows. I don’t talk to the agency’s other escorts—or to anyone, really—so it’s not like I’ll ever ask.
Regardless, when I knock on my client’s hotel door—room 521, just like the agency’s email said—my body tenses and stomach twists when I come face to face with my client.
But you’d never know it from the smile I give him.
“Hi, baby,” I purr.
“Daisy,” he greets excitedly, using my pseudonym. “You look beautiful.”
You look fuckable, is what he means. But my smile grows anyway, the movement—and accentuation of my lips—making his pupils widen further. “Aren’t you sweet. Thank you.”
When he stands aside and gestures me in, I enter the room with long strides, making sure my hips sway. I place my purse on the dresser and begin to adjust my appearance. Now that we’rebehind closed doors, I can safely morph into the character the client needs.
That’s the secret to being an escort. It’s not just about letting men use your body; it’s about figuring out what it is that each man wants. Some pay for escorts because they want the woman to leave right after. Some just want to be wanted. Some are lonely and simply want to talk to another person. Every client has a differentwhy. And it’s my job to figure out what it is.
For Tom Harris, it’s to roleplay his daily life, but with a different ending.
You see, Tom is a Vice President of a very successful software company. He’s married with kids and has a high-paying job. He has everything heshouldwant.
The only problem is that his boss, the CEO, is a stone-cold woman who runs the company with an iron fist and has no issue putting men in their place when they mess up. So, every time Tom gets chewed out in front of the entire executive team, I get a call. I’m hired to recreate the scolding, just so he can get on his knees for a different ending.
Men are such simple creatures.
“So,” I start in a cold voice, spinning around to face him. “Would you like to explain to me why you failed to hit this quarter’s numbers?”
Predictably, his breathing becomes heavier. “We had some unforeseen complications?—”
“Isn’t it your job toforeseethose complications?” I interrupt. “I was under the impression you were competent when I hired you.” I take a step closer, my voice dripping with condescension. “Are you not? Competent?”
His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. I can see the outline of his erection against his slacks.
“If I had more support, I-I would have—” he stutters.
I let out a mocking laugh. “Support?Did you want someone to hold your hand?” I take another step, now close enough that there’re only a few inches between us. Ironically, I’m taller than Tom in heels, so I have to duck my head slightly to taunt him. “Do you need a babysitter, little Tommy? Are you a poor wittle baby, in need of?—”
I see the moment he reaches his limit. Wincing, he grabs his crotch, the pain on his face evident. He’s seconds from coming already. This week must have been bad, because I usually get a few more jabs in before he cracks.
Oh well. This just means a shorter appointment.
I point at the floor by my feet. “On your knees. If you’re going to be a disappointment, we might as well findsomeuse for you.”
He drops to his knees with a thud. Relief floods his face as he looks up at me, waiting eagerly for my next instructions.
