A Sweet Sissy Escort

This is a picture of me taken yesterday.  I am an escort and I work the promenade near the fancy hotels downtown.  My real name is Robert.  But when I'm working, everyone knows me as Rebecca.

Ever since my dad ran out on us, things have been really tough for Mother and me.  Mother isn't very healthy and she can't work.  Then a few months ago the bill collectors started calling and the bank said that they were going to foreclose on the house. That's when Mother told me that she needed my help.

"Mother!" I cried, "I don't want to do that!  How can you even suggest that I do that?!?"

"But Robby," Mother replied, "It's the only way.  If you don't do this, we won't have any money at all and we'll be homeless.  And without money for my medicine...I won't live very long."


When she said that I gave in. She explained that she had seen an ad on Craig's List. There was a man named "Mr. Pearl" who was looking for "girls to entertain successful businessmen."

"But Mother," I shrieked. "I'm not a girl!"

"Well, of course not.  But you are rather...girly. I mean look at you.  Look how skinny and delicate you are. Anyway, when I described you to Mr. Pearl, he sounded very interested in  meeting you."

I was horrified and ashamed by everything she said. But I agreed to meet Mr. Pearl if it would help her.

Mr. Pearl was indeed very interested in me. He said that until I came along, he only had real girls working for him. He thought that he would find MANY clients who were interested in me since I offered something a "little different." 



Mr. Pearl and some of his girls helped get me started. They showed me how to use make-up and gave me clothes that would make me look sexy and get noticed. They taught me about all the different sex things that clients would want to do to me. I started crying at one point when someone explained about "double penetration." I didn't believe half the things they told me were true -- until I started working.

That was two months ago. Of course it was frightening and disgusting at first. But I have sort of gotten used to it and I'm earning a lot of money to help Mother.

Since then I have been working the promenade five nights a week.  I walk around, wiggling my ass and trying to attract the attention of the men who are out looking for some action.  Even though I am dressed like a sexy girl, because of my short hair most men figure out that I'm a sissy whore. While most guys are looking to be with a real girl, a lot of guys are really into doing it with sissies like me. 

On a good night I might have five or six "dates."  Most of my clients are businessmen in town for conventions.  Those aren't so bad because the businessmen are mostly pretty polite and we can go up to their hotel rooms to do it.  But some men are rough and mean.  And sometimes I have to do it with men in the backseats of their cars or in the public bathroom in the park.  The worst are the bachelor parties when I have to do a bunch of guys at the same time.  I get paid extra but I really don't like it.

Last night was horrible.  My last client -- number five for the night -- was insane.  He choked me and slapped me hard about a hundred times while I was blowing him -- I thought I was I going to die.  When I got home at 4:00 in the morning I was going to tell Mother that I couldn't do this any longer.  But before I could say anything, Mother told me that her new medicine was much more expensive.  She told me, as if it was good news, that Mr. Pearl had agreed to let me work seven nights a week and days too!  I cried myself to sleep knowing that I would be forever trapped as a sissy whore.