OMFG, Someone Knows My Secret!

Oh my fucking, word! Your not going to fucking believe it! My double life has somehow merged into one; my secret life has head butted my regular life. There’s somebody out there that knows my real identity and knows I’m an escort.

I am pretty sure this person is not a client because they know more information than what a client would ever know about me. Believe it or not, in my personal life, I’m a very PRIVATE person. I keep escorting and regular life separate. However, this person knows several personal and very private things about me. They know things that I’ve never told anyone or blogged about! I feel like I’m being stalked.

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I  woke up to the unmistakable chime of an email overnight, just after 3:00 a.m. (the witching hour). The sender revealed to me what they knew about me (in question format). Questions like: Have you ever worked as an entertainer in Las Vegas? Do you plan on leaving the States to live happily ever after with your soul mate in Milan? Did you graduate from __________ University? For crying out loud, they even knew my first name (it’s not Veronica)!

You guys know me as a twenty something well educated student (back in school to get another degree) and entrepreneur moonlighting as an escort. By day, I’m a stiletto stepping, pencil skirt wearing, Mikimoto pearls flaunting business woman. By night, I am a stiletto stepping, diamond studded, red lipstick and thong wearing bbw bombshell, who is occasionally accessorized with a whip, just in case I have to whip a freaky motherfucker’s ass! But nobody, I mean, nobody knows, I’m a call girl.

I started escorting, just a few months ago––though it feels like a lot longer. I began this blog a while ago, as I’ve always been a kept woman. I took a hiatus from writing, then began blogging again when I started, “doing something strange for a little a lot of change”. I only blog about it because it’s therapeutic (I don’t have any escort friends to chat with, by choice) and because it’s an exciting life that more people than you think are involved in. But still, this is my life; my story.

You see, I’ve always loved sex and have been interested in this kind of sex work for as long as I can remember but I never told anyone about my interest because as an educated, straight laced, girl from a middle class Christian family; becoming a call is just NOT what you do. I was reluctant to break into the lifestyle for numerous reasons. Ironically, the fear of some nutcase finding out my true identity or threatening to blackmail me, or even worse were (and still are) at the top of the list. There are many dangers to this life style and escorting certainly isn’t for everyone.

However, I had a lot of casual sex in my past, though I was never paid for it. I had 5 partners and lots of hot, passionate, ball busting, jaw aching sex. The real atrocity here is not that I escort on a very part time basis, but that some loser (who doesn’t pay any of my bills) has the audacity to get all holier than thou on me and tell me that I shouldn’t be doing this–that it’s not right. The real atrocity is the girl who’s at the local bar who’s a borderline alcoholic, getting shit-faced drunk and fucking a new guy every night, unprotected and for free (because of self-esteem issues or maybe even boredom)! That’s the real atrocity.

Well… News Flash!!! I’m not her. You (Mr. Anonymous) want me to stop escorting? If I must have sex then I should just fuck for free, right? Sorry sweetie, but that’s not my idea of what it means to be philanthropic. I suppose that’s your tip to me.

Here’s my tip to you. Please sit down! As a matter of fact, I need you to takes several seats. I feel so vulnerable right now and at the same time angry as hell.

I’m so angry right now, I’m ready to pass out some ass whoppins like Bobby Mercer from the movie, “Four Brothers”.

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Sex Tip Of The Day

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Still have that condom from a while back? Toss it (now, please)! The average shelf life of a latex condom is about two years and it’s even less if you keep them in odd places. Fellas, the dashboard of your car is not a good choice, nor is the trunk of your car. Surprised, are you?

Warning: Improper storage of condoms may lead to premature aging and deterioration (of the product).

It’s a good idea to keep your own condoms since you don’t know how long your partner’s been holding on to his. Condoms kept in wallets for over a month are more likely to break.

Taking A Moment

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Thank You. Today I decided that I wouldn’t go another day without thank each of my followers (new and old). Thank you for your support, your comments and your feedback. I would also like to thank my ghost followers, as you email me with questions all the time and often fuel many of the f.a.q post that I write on my blog.

By now, most of you will have noticed that I have changed the theme of my blog. Please let me know if you like it (or hate) it.

As for right now, I am trying to find a theme that is best for my readers and is user friendly, so it may change once more.

Speaking of changes, I will be getting rid of some of the pages on The Kept BBW and transferring them to my business blog, BBW For Hire (more on this to come).

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Please, please continue to post comments, ask questions and be engaged. In exchange, I will continue to be honest, discreet, raw and unfiltered.

Thanks Again,

The Kept BBW ♥

Lessons From A B¡+¢h Named Karma

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Why is it that big, overgrown adults find it so hard to be nice to one another? Some of them are flat out, bullies, on a daily basis, with no rhyme or reason to their madness.

Instead of going for a much needed pedicure, I was out grocery shopping (sigh). Ya’ll know I loooovvve shopping for everything, EXCEPT groceries.

Anyway, while in the store I witnessed 3 grown men pointing and cracking jokes at a young lady who attempted to get some cans off the shelf and failed each time.

At first glance, she appeared to be drunk. However, after assisting in picking the cans up off the floor and  asking her if she was okay, it was more apparent that she was recovering from some sort of brain injury and desperately trying to regain some independence and dignity.

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Fortunately, I haven’t experienced personally (in years). I have an angelic face and a very pleasant demeanor but I am an expert at giving someone the “b!+¢h please” look and stopping them dead in their tracks.

I just hate to see people mistreated in this cruel world that we live in. Ironically, I was reading a blog post yesterday and in it the writer mentioned being a victim to others cruelty.

Surely you’ve heard the old saying be nice to people you meet on your journey to the top, as you will surely meet them again on your way back down to the bottom?!

The bottom line is this: It cost nothing to be kind to each other. Perhaps somebody is a little eccentric, or too big or too short. Maybe, you don’t like their style of dress. That doesn’t mean we need to be cruel or insensitive.

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I learned years ago that what goes around, comes around. You may not be around when it circles back but your children may be on the receiving end.  I live my life in such a way that I make a point to treat people well because…

Karma is a bitch, and she’s not to be phucked with!

TKB And The Moral Dilemma

After throwing back one too many drinks, a handsome guy in a bar confidently asks a gorgeous woman, “Would you sleep with me for a million dollars?”

The woman thinks for a bit and says “Yes.” The man then asks, “Well, how about $100,000?” The woman thinks a bit more and says “OK.”

Then the man asks, “How about for $50?” And the woman says, “Of course not! What do you think I am?” To which the man replies, “We already established WHAT, now we’re just haggling over the price.”

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This week, I began to have an internal conflict after screening a client only to find out that he’s the pastor of a local church… and subsequently screwing the HELL out of him (no pun intended). Just happy it wasn’t this pastor.

It’s only been a few months, but after this experience I’ve been thinking, maybe I should retire my whore hat.

This encounter has me reflecting on the institution of marriage. For the sake of you that are new to my blog, I will tell you straight away that I am a pro lol.

I am pro women and I am pro marriage. It is my belief that women (and society) benefit wholeheartedly from it. Marriage is an exchange.

Do Women trade sex for something they value. Love, safety, shelter, food or whatever?

Do men marry just so they have a dedicated paid piece of tail? A servant and entertainer mixed in with the sex?

Absolutely!

If you must marry, marry well, right? For women marrying well means marrying into money. For men, it means marrying the domestic type who will have lots of babies, keep a hot meal on the table and never have a headache. It helps if she doesn’t have a gag reflex too! You get my point. I wouldn’t dare say that marriage is legalized prostitution. Even if it is, it is beneficial.

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I know there are some people who still  marry for love. But, imho, even my pastor’s wife married not just for love but also for the power that comes along with being the 1st lady of a large internationally known church.

My brain is in overdrive right now and I keep reminding myself that I’ve always been a KEPT woman, well before 2013 and it has nothing to do with not being able to take care of myself.

I am an educated woman with an entrepreneurial spirit and multiple streams of income, I am more than able do take myself and quite adept at it.

If I stopped tomorrow, I could no longer go on the weekly shopping sprees that I have become so accustomed to and I wouldn’t be able to give to charitable causes as often as I do now.

But I could live very comfortably, as my home, cars and education are all paid for. I don’t have any debt and I have my businesses that I built from the ground up.

If I stopped escorting tomorrow, I would probably still be a sugar baby and would definately continue to date men who are well to do and powerful. There’s something about a powerful man that gives me a head rush.

Fact remains that if I left the escort business I’d still be a kept woman because I’m addicted to the kept lifestyle.

Decisions, decisions.