The other day I got to visit the newly refurbished Blue Door Dungeon for a session arranged by Christine Love for her slutty sissy, Dee.
The plan was for myself to arrange three male escorts to join us at one hour intervals. We were to start from 11pm to midnight with Christine Love, Dee and myself, and then each hour after that we would host a special guest appearance from various male escorts come to take turns using Dee.
This proved to be a challenging endeavour.
I contacted about 30 male escorts over the course of a week or so leading up to the session trying to find at least 3 who seemed like they might be capable of showing up on time (or showing up at all), able to get an erection and penetrate a sissy.
About 20 of them didn't respond to my message at all.
Of the 10 or so I spoke to most of them seemed unsuitable but I felt like at least three of the guys I spoke to might be up to the task.
Simon came recommended by our mutual friend, the one and only, the fabulous, Alekssandra.
With Alekssandra's recommendation, I was confident that Simon would be quality.
The other two were flatmates and seemed at least able to reply promptly to messages and seemed to understand what the session was about.
Unfortunately one of the two fell asleep and missed the session entirely.
The other was Paco.
So when I arrived just before 11, Christine greeted me in an outrageously sexy little black micro dress more sheer than the sheer futility of an intelligence report addressed to Donald Trump. A dress briefer than the average message on Grindr.
Christine's talent for creating bespoke experiences is second to none. Her attention to detail impeccable.
She had arrived early at the dungeon to get the lighting just right, adjust the thermostat to get the room temperature perfect, gotten just the right playlist ready to play via the speakers. She'd brought along a selection of alcoholic beverages and soft drinks, condoms, lube, cock rings, all the essentials.
Just after I arrived, a delivery driver buzzed the door bringing a bag of groceries Christine had ordered in case anyone got hungry.
She's an angel.
Dee arrived.
I commended Dee on the stretchiness of his suit fabric. It looked like a smart dinner suit but stretched like Lululemons. You could do a yoga class in that. Planning to get contorted into some strange and unusual positions any time soon?
We wasted no time stripping Dee's stretchy suit off and got him where we wanted him. Cuffed to the bed.
I fucked Dee slow and gentle or fast and hard according to Christine's instructions. My fuck conductor.
My preference is for presto pounding, allegro ass fucking and cadenza copulating.
But it is nice to start slow. Maybe alternate in a gala of grave, adagio, largo and andante fuck rhythms.
And then more pounding on the sex swing. Love a good sex swing. Half the exertion and double the impact with every thrust.
Simon arrived.
Simon has all the social graces of a boy cow's dingle dangle.
He began to strip naked before we'd even gotten halfway down the stairs to the dungeon leaving a trail of clothes strewn in his wake and grabbed himself a red bull.
Perhaps gratuitously since his default setting is sugar overdosing toddler.
Whilst Simon familiarised himself with the dungeon accoutrements via bouncing around the place like a semi erect Sonic the hedgehog, Christine, Dee and I re-entangled in a Gordian Knot of Ouroboroses.
Simon joined in unannounced and with gusto via jamming his tongue so far up Christine's rectum she could have pirouetted on it like a rotisserie chicken.
Eventually Simon retracted his head and shoulders back out of Christine. We got him to busy himself inserting multiple dildos up Dee like one of those meditative Japanese flower arrangements.
He told us a story while he was at it about soggy biscuits at school.
If you know, you know. If you don't know, don't Google the soggy biscuit game. Or do, I guess, if you're so inclined.
He did a good job of the wobbly sausage ikebana actually. Like a conscientious plumber happily up to his elbows in Dee.
But then Simon's hour was over, alas. So we sent him out into an unsuspecting London to do who knows what.
Then Paco arrived.
Looking like a man who could, and probably does, crack walnuts between his buttocks.
He spoke not a word of English (whatever I spoke to on WhatsApp in lieu of Paco properly passed the Turing test) but that's OK.
We communicated via the language of love.
What he lacked in conversation, he made up for in very tight underpants and neatly manicured facial hair.
Paco made a beeline for the captains hats. One for him. One for me.
Then he selects a flogger.
OK, by this point Dee's love passage looked like a butcher's bin bag after what Simon and I did to it. So he and Christine were quite happy to curl up on the throne under a blanket and watch Paco, bedecked in Nazi themed BDSM military paraphernalia, giving me a good flogging.
Paco, with his unrealistically chiselled pectorals, wields a pretty mean Blue Door Dungeon own brand flogger.
The leathery thwacking noises thwacked in time to a certain rhythmic rummaging going on under the blanket.
This inevitably lead to Christine and Dee discovering a second wind. A wind which somehow blew them amidships back to the sex swing for another round of my relentlessly bashing in Dee's back door.
Paco was mostly ornamental from then on but he did take a turn at rimming Christine.
A surprising recurring theme of the evening.
Most surprised of all being Christine who I think was again taken unawares.
I withdrew anon and at Christine's bidding, bade over her shoulder as she rode Dee's face, I quickly set up the fuck machine, plugged it in and checked that it was on a low setting via the remote to start off with.
The last thing you want is to insert the dildo, hit the on switch and have the thing roar into life already geared to it's top speed. You'd be mopping bits of him up off the ceiling.
The fuck machine lets you know when it's powered on by igniting about 100,000 lumens of blue LEDs. Pretty.
It was time for Paco and I to say goodnight. Well, I said goodnight and hugged and kissed the lovely Christine and Dee farewell.
Paco gave hugs and kisses and got back into his very tight panties.
We blew our final kisses as we left Dee and Christine silhouetted from behind in the ominous glow of the fucking machine.
An electric blue harbinger of doom for Dee's already demolished derrière.
Cover image courtesy of a slightly bemused Midjourney AI. It refused to render an image of "a vase full of dildos arranged like flowers". So I asked for "a vase full of fluoro coloured wobbly sausages arranged like flowers." It granted my request but I bet it's going to be dreaming of electric sex toys tonight.
ps. Christine sent me this message afterwards. I'm still blushing.
Oz you are truly a gentleman, a rock and a legend.
I am convinced that you are the best professional male escort the world has ever seen.
It is a joy to be your colleague and your customer care for each client is next level.
We don't deserve you. You made last night happen. I am very, very grateful.
You set the quality professional standards for the industry and what you do is very, very hard.
I may never understand how you can get hard on demand, and stay hard for hours. But 1 will always be intrigued.
The only thing that's harder is finding a male escort in London who can turn up, let alone perform.
Not only do you perform for men, women, trans, you can chat with people from all walks of life, be they a deviant from Dubai or a perv from Paris.
You are like the universal plug, designed for all sockets, that we buy each time when we go on an adventure.
You can see the sexy in anyone, And you care about everyone.
You are not the best because no one compares, you're the best because you care.
Which is why I am presenting you with the Christine Love award for Best Male of all time.
