Book Three Moans and Get one Free 

(Published on 8/08/25)

I’m not in Sydney right now. I’m in Kuala Lumpur. And everywhere I turn: malls, apps, shopfronts… it’s screaming “8.8 SALE. Flash deals. Timed vouchers. Bank rebates. Things you didn’t need five minutes ago that suddenly feel urgent.

Even my phone’s doing it. The apps are throwing pop-ups at me like confetti at a divorce party.

HERE IS WHAT’S HAPPENING:

It’s funny. Being surrounded by all this discount noise reminded me of something. 

Something I did once. And only once.

Because every now and then, when the moon is in retro-whatever and my phone’s gone quieter than a nun at a sex club, I get tempted. You know, that whisper in the back of your mind that says: Maybe a little “Black Friday Bonk” promo will stir the pot.

So once. Just once. I caved. Business had dipped. I was bored. My phone had the personality of a dead fish. So I got cheeky. I sent out a tweet that said: 

”Book Three 1 hour Encounters And  Get One Free! This Week Only!”

Simple. Elegant. Unapologetically stupid.

And it worked. My phone buzzed like a vibrator on a discount shelf. I got booked solid, and not by the usual suspects. These were the coupon kings. The mileage-maximisers. The men who book thirty minutes, spend five in the shower beforehand, five after, and still expect a full thirty minutes of action. As if rinsing their balls doesn’t count against the clock.

One even asked mid-thrust, “Is the special still on next month?”

Sir. Your cock is in my mouth right now. Ask your accountant.

Another came back with a sheepish grin: “Oh…but last time I paid $ X… can you do that again? As if I am a supermarket.

As if I’m running a loyalty card program. As if my boobs and genitals come with Flybuys.

Now let’s be clear. It’s not about the money. It’s about the tone.

Sales culture trains people to wait for a markdown. Not for desire, but for a discount. And I’m not a discount experience. I’m a luxury you book at full price because you want to. Not because it’s on clearance.

This isn’t a dig at massage parlours or beauticians who do “Winter Glow Ups” or “20% Off Packages”.
Respect to the girls keeping it moving.
But I’ve learned that the moment you reduce what you do to a bargain bin code, it stops being special.

It becomes expected. So no, I’m not doing 20% off your birthday month. No, you don’t get a free 30 minutes because you are a Gemini. And no, you can’t prepay ten for the price of six.

This is bespoke. Intimate. Tailored.
It’s not on sale, because it’s not for everyone.

But for old times’ sake, I’ll say this: The free and last moan? On me, obviously…they got theirs, and my jaw, fingers, pussy-cock, my back pussy, still roll their eyes when they hear those names.