I was accused yesterday of being selfish by somebody who sacrificed themselves for me once. After a day’s worth of introspection I have come to the conclusion that accusation is true. I have never done a single selfless deed in my entire life except for sleeping with old and unattractive people. You could argue that it was not selfless because I’m an escort on my own, I got paid but anybody who has ever had the experience can testify that no amount of money can compensate a young women for the sacrifice she makes to give of herself to a human who has no redeeming physical features or personality and is so desperately lonely that he want to force you into a pretense of “love making” with him. To mentally override a natural response of disgust with an act of joy is the most draining psychological demand you can make of a person and if that person is able to deliver such an experience, then that person truly is a hero.

I don’t believe in heaven and hell and I don’t believe in good or bad but if I were to die today I would die a hero. A hero to the old and infirm, a hero to the deformed and dysfunctional, a hero to the lonely and the unloved. The trouble is that a person is born with only so much energy for these special cases and eventually it runs out. People who have issues are naturally needy and they tend to only take out of you and never put back. Once you have spent your quota of special patience for difficult cases, you are in overtime. After you have reached this point, if you continue to give of yourself, you risk damaging yourself. I am now in that danger zone. Totally spent for special needs people I can only deal will middle aged, married men of average and above looks.

Yesterday I ignored this knowledge about myself and took on a booking I knew would be a drain but I thought it would be a measured sacrifice because the person is not necessarily gross, just old and emotionally demanding. What I was not prepared for was being suspected of theft when the client misplaced his watch. After locating his watch where he had left it, he manage to resume exactly where he left off but unfortunately the experience left a sour taste in my mouth. I really thought that I was doing such a good deed that I was truly confounded when this client turned the tables on me and even short paid me by a couple of hundred bucks (he is a multi-millionaire). In his mind it was a fair trade but what he does not understand is that even ten times my fee was not enough to compensate me for that experience.

As a result, I feel so ugly today. It’s a condition that creeps up on me slowly and at some point gathers critical mass when I have been over exposed to too much grossness and oldness. I know that I am no beauty queen, but I also know that the world does not see what I do when I look in the mirror. When I look at myself, I feel too ugly to inhabit planet earth. I feel too ugly to go out, I feel too ugly to even walk amongst other people. Rationally, I know that it’s not that bad but still that doesn’t change the way I feel. It has been a god awful year of the grossest clients being by far the majority of people that I see. Although, in between I have seen some good looking clients, my brain accepts good looking as normal so the gross are by far the most memorable and even a phone call from one of those truly memorable gross clients can ruin my day and spoil my sexiness for other nice clients scheduled to visit. That’s why I get really creeped out that people don’t notice that I am not taking their calls after six months, sometimes years because even seeing their name on my phone makes me relive the disaster. I see notices on forums where people comment that Carmen is really difficult to get hold of, but nobody has pieced together that maybe I am not taking the call on purpose. My business is my telephone, I’m always watching it so if you have been unable to get hold of me for six months to a year, there is a very good reason why.

Tonight, I have to perform for what sounds like a very refined continental on the phone, but I have so much yukness clinging to me that I don’t know how the f*ck I am going to do it. Usually the way to handle the situation is to pour lots of alcohol down my throat and that helps to channel my slut persona but the situation has reached such a crescendo that I don’t even think booze will help. I have what other companions refer to as precious pussy syndrome – I choose my clients. Not all of us have the same good fortune. The less educated and less established companions or women who work in clubs are unable to choose at all. This transfers some guilt onto me but at the same time I correspond with overseas companions who are earning 500 USD per hour. They seem more willing to make compromises but for 500 USD per hour a man billowing over with lard and fungus growing in between his fat folds doesn’t seem so bad. Especially if he only lasts five minutes and the rest is paid conversation but here in London I earn 200 GBP per hour (about the cost of an extravagant lunch for two) and when I look at said lump of lard I cannot make the justification in my mind.

The problem is that very often people have issues that cannot be predicted on a telephone. Most people who do have serious problems don’t really know because other people are too afraid to tell them. For example the lump of lard previously mentioned has an extra-ordinary telephone manner, he has a private education and because he has so much money nobody has ever bothered to mention to him that when he walks into a room it stinks to high heaven. The stench between his fat folds smells like rotting flesh. He has obviously become so accustomed to it that he does not even notice. Other people are so conscious of giving him a complex regarding his obesity so nobody mentions it, but are they really helping him? How does a fourty something man with a high education and two degrees not notice that he is dangerously obese and how can he be unaware that he reeks of putrification. How does said man not mention his circumstances on the phone before coming to see me? Does he think he is normal or does he think that because I accept payment that I will see anyone assuming they can provide my fee? I have fifty year old, normal looking clients who feel the need to declare their age in advance just in case I have a problem with it so how does a human giant feel that he is somehow going to slide under the radar and his extra 100kgs are going to go unnoticed? His problem is that people have been lying to him his whole life, so responsibility to break the bad news falls to your friendly neighbourhood whore.

The last man that I tried to explain had a nasty cheese problem under his foreskin even after a shower flew into a rage, denied it and retaliated by an attack on me. Now I am very wary how I phrase things for fear of being attacked. The bottom line is he had such a rotund belly that he hasn’t seen his own dick in years but he has no excuse not to have noticed the smell. How well can he possibly be showering if after he has cleaned he is still dirty? These are some of the things we have to deal with sometimes and I am being gentle. I have far worse stories to tell and I am supposed to be at the higher end of the market so can you imagine what the other girls are going through.

What is even more astounding is when I have one of these gross appointments and I’m already too far gone into it to back out I just go into polite submissive mode. I don’t say anything nasty and I just try to tolerate the situation until it’s over. I assume the man must have noticed and it seems logical that I will never hear from him again but what do you do when he phones you back a month later? Did he not notice that I was cringing? Is it normal to have a stoic, unmoving cadaver beneath you during se*x? I think the answer is no but apparently not all of us feel that way. I think that some men are so used to women being unresponsive in bed that they accept it as normal behaviour. It’s all they know, so they think chicks are just like that. I market myself as being a sexual women who enjoys what I do, so how did he not notice that I was not enjoying myself? How does he enjoy himself when I am not enjoying myself and why the f*ck would he phone me back a month later to do it all over again? Worst still, why would he want to pay for an experience like that? Is that his trip, grossing a chick out? I don’t know? Maybe this is some new kind of kink I have not heard of.

I’ve been due to write another sexy blog story but I cannot even get my mind to focus in that direction so I’ve been writing philosophy and general content in an effort to evade having to fathom or recount a sexy experience or fantasy but honestly, I just can’t find it in me. Despite all of the good things that have happened to me recently, I am still overwhelmed by the bad. Somehow my brain is wired to weigh itself by the talent it can achieve in the open market. So when I start hauling in trash, I go down in my own estimation and if I have a bad run for too long I start to feel ugly. Once I feel ugly, slowly it starts to become true.

Anyways, if you’ve been visiting this blog looking for insight into the life of a paid companion, I hope you can handle the truth. It’s not all bad but this is how I feel tonight and I think these highs and lows are commonplace amongst all of us. As for me, I’m off to go and deliver yet another GFE (learn more about GFE : http://topescortbook.com/escort-article/what-is-a-girlfriend-experience.html) and let’s pray the man is as sophisticated as he sounded on the telephone. Maybe he can turn my mood around before Monday.