I'd got bored with posing. Glamour modelling no longer appealed to or turned me on, well not often. It all became a little repetitive. I mean there are only so many ways a girl can take her panties off, flash her pussy or play with her tits as she simulates having sex or an orgasm, though sometimes simulation wasn't necessary. Alright, when 'extras' are added on another dimension is brought into the game, but then again, how many men do I want to rub me off, play with my tits or give bjs to.
So that's when I stopped my raunchy photographic modelling and became a hostess, an escort an occasional partner or whatever other term you want to use to describe a high class hooker. That was fine for a while. Lunches, dinners, clubs, casinos, London's top hotels and restaurants and all on top of a fee that could reach a thousand, pounds that is, for a night, plus a gift, like a watch or a trip to AP or Janet Regar. It was hard work though. Working generally two all nights a week and a couple of afternoons being fucked and licked, giving head and playing the part of businessmen's girl friends wasn't easy. It also became a little risky so I began to tire of the action, but still loved and wanted the money.
And that is when I decided to become a masseur and open my own massage parlour, I suppose you would have to call it, although I preferred the term Relaxation Salon.
It seemed the logical natural extension of my career built on sex. Why not? My 'business model' was to set myself up somewhere, build a good clientele, take on a couple of other girls and then effectively live off them. Pure and utter capitalism, exploit the worker or, in other terms become a madam as brothel keepers are called, or so I'm told.
So, whilst still busying myself around London's West End with visiting Americans, Germans, Aussies and other European businessmen, ok there was the occasional Arab, but not much more, I didn't understand Chinese, India or Pakistani cultures, and this is not at all racist, so I tended to avoid guys from those countries, I also went to massage classes. Dead straight, nothing dodgy, but classes that would lead to a diploma in massage therapy. I wanted to know all about massage; if I was going to sell it, I wanted to be good at it, I wanted to be the best and sell the best. So, on top of wanting to give a hugely erotic massage, for sex would inevitably be at the heart of it, I also wanted to provide a genuine effective and quality massage. Just imagine, you have a bad back or you pull a muscle at the gym or playing golf or tennis and you can go to a 'clinic' staffed by youngish, twenty something blondes, wearing crisp white tunics or coats who not only cure the strain but also give you, male or female sexual relief, if you want it that is? Or the alternative, you want relief and you get that along with a superb, proper body massage. Seemed a sound proposition to me.
Being a bit of a perfectionist in some things, but a total drop out in others, I browsed the net looking at the muscular build up of bodies, the way that nerves, tendons, ligaments, cartilages and bones react together. All this complemented what I was learning at the classes.
As I was still escorting I had ample practice opportunities. I added massage to the services I provided to my clients and a lot of them went for it big time. As it happened it often made my job easier too. I would sometimes suggest a massage early on in the date. I would use oil and give him firstly a fairly strong deep tissue job; naturally we would both be naked, after all he was paying for my body and, in any case I didn't want to get oil on my 'glad rags.' I would gradually lighten the massage, especially when I did his upper legs, and would occasionally just touch his balls or let my fingers slide into the crease of his bum. That was usually sufficient to have him hard when I turned him over. Being, as an escort has to be, a sycophant when on duty, I would mutter about how big/long/thick/hard/lovely it was and would then start to caress it. Generally, without even using my mouth on it, I would be able to get him off pretty quickly. Often I would be murmuring as I masturbated him 'God I am so going to love having this in me later' or 'I can hardly wait for this to fuck me.' Some would retort by suggesting that they fuck me then, but I would stop them by saying how marvellous I found it to wank a man and suggest 'Why don't you cum on my tits.' It usually worked, but if it didn't then I let them fuck me; most would do it sooner or later in any case. Sometimes though, especially with the older guys, once was enough, so by giving a little more, I got to do a little less and sometimes the 'date' was over in a couple of hours.
I finished the diploma course and got a good grade, see what lots of practice does, and then needed to put to work all I had learned.
I managed to get a job at a local gym that had a beauty and spa section. Again it was very straight and I learned all about how to keep the 'intimate bits' on both ladies and men covered at all times and to use towels to cover most of the body, exposing just the part I was massaging at the time. I was taught how to turn away when they turned over and how to avoid touching any sexually sensitive places.
As I was working for a pittance during those few months I had to supplement my earnings with some escorting and a little modelling so it was a very busy period indeed.
Obviously there were some incidents at the gym that could have got dodgy, but I managed them as I had been taught. A couple of guys got hard, but said and did nothing, whilst two others asked if there were extras, I said firmly no. Several blokes 'accidentally' touched me and one girl slid her hand up my tunic. From chatting to the other girls, this was pretty much par for the course. Whilst I was there two girls did get dismissed for providing extras, but I wasn't tempted for the idea of jacking off some bloke for twenty quid or so has little appeal.
Now feeling pretty well trained, but not quite ready to start my own place I looked for work in a massage parlour, but at the same time kept my eyes open for premises for my place.. That was remarkably easy to get. I simply phoned up a few places some way away from Essex where I was, and still am living with my mum and asked if they had any vacancies. I told them what I look like, five six, 34b 23 35, long blonde hair and blue eyes and look younger than my twenty four years and I got an interview every time.
Most of the places were pretty sordid and didn't appeal, but there was one in Watford, about thirty miles from where I live, that I liked. It was run by a mid thirties woman, whose husband I subsequently found out was serving time for being a gangster. She kept it spotlessly clean, always had two girls and a receptionist on duty and made sure that all the girls were fully trained. She interviewed me and seemed impressed by my diploma asking if I could let her have a copy to put behind the counter, 'Gives us a bit of class Sam' she said putting her arm round my shoulders and adding "Come on I'll give you your first lesson.'
It was just after ten in the morning. The 'massage spa' didn't open until noon so Karen used the mornings for interviewing, training and her admin work.
"Ok first" she started very officially "You do understand that you have to provide extras."
"I assumed that yes."
"And that includes full sex, are you ok with that?"
"For everyone?"
"No" she smiled "Not if you don't like them and in any case you couldn't' 'service' ten or a dozen clients a day could you?"
"Shit no" I replied totally horrified at the thought of being shagged by a dozen different blokes in a day.
"Don't worry, only about two or three a day will want it and you can be selective, so do a couple a day of you want."
"Ok"
"Most will want you to undress and give them a hand job while they play with your tits. Ok?"
""No problem."
"What about them touching your pussy, you ok with that?"
"Yes as long as they are clean."
"Don't worry too much about that, the receptionists are trained to get rid of the wrong types and we have security pretty close by."
"Sounds fine," I told her actually feeling quite impressed.
"It's really up to you what else you offer."
"What do the other girls do and what do the guys ask for?"
"Everything. Blow jobs, massaging you, anal, kissing is really big. A lot of the clients are really quite lonely and to have you as their girl friend for half an hour is all they really want, the sex is almost secondary," she told me, reminding me so much of what I was told and subsequently found to be true when starting to escort.
"What do I charge or do they pay you?"
"No they have to pay you. There's nothing illegal about being paid for giving sex, but there is about organising it and then 'living off immoral earning' stupid fucking law."
"So how much?"
"A full strip hand relief is thirty and if they want to touch you it's forty. Blow jobs are fifty, full sex sixty and an exec package as we call it is seventy five where they get a bit of everything."
I made appreciative noises about how impressive the prices were, but in my mind I was comparing them to what I had been earning as an escort. I worked out I would have to do six exec packages, which would probably take from when the place opened at noon to when it shut at mid night to earn what I would get for one fuck in the afternoon in a top class London hotel as an escort! Still you have to invest if you're to build your own business I told myself.
"So how do you get your cut?"
"You have to pay us an agreed amount per day you work for the use of premises."
"I see and I assume that works at a percentage of what I earn?"
Smiling Karen replied "Oh no darling that would be living off immoral earning, it's a percentage of what we expect you to earn and that's the subtle difference."
We both laughed "And what's the percentage I pay?"
