Going to college had always been a dream of mine, growing up in a working class neighborhood had been all the inspiration that I needed to study hard and get good grades throughout school. I will never forget the day that I received my first acceptance letter; it was like a dream come true. Four more followed, in total five of the eight that I had applied to accepted me.
My parents had never had the opportunity to further their education and as a result had always been stuck in lower paying jobs. Still they had tried to save, and if I could obtain a scholarship, things might work out. I chose a school close to home, as it was the cheapest, plus being an in-state student I qualified for a couple of grants. Things looked promising as I started my freshman year, my father had recently received a nice raise, I had a good paying part time job, and I was still able to live at home.
At the end of my first semester, over the holiday break, my world seemed to fall apart. My father's company announced a shutdown, and he and my mother were faced with the choice of either my day losing his job or transferring to another of the companies plants and taking a significant pay cut. Within weeks my parent's house was up for sale, they had moved, and I was staying temporary with a friend of the family trying to figure out how I could continue with school.
My parents were very upset about this, as they expected that I would leave school and come join them within a couple of weeks. I did not want to move several states away and move into a small apartment, which was all that my parents could afford at the time. I was desperate, and the family friend made it clear that they did not want me there for very long. I had taken up the offer, which I soon found out was made more to try and consol my parents, then an actual invitation for me to stay.
I was trying to figure out what to do, I could transfer to a community college, and try to work several jobs and maybe find a room to rent or try to find several roommates and get an apartment. Unfortunately I could find neither within my means at that moment, so I just started looking through the want ads for anything.
One day while coming back from an interview from the nearest city, I was reading a newspaper that I found on the train. I was almost out of money and options, trying not to breakdown in tears at the realization that I would have to drop out and move away. Somehow even at 18 I knew that if I left college then, I would most likely never have the opportunity to return again.
The paper which had been left on the train was a local paper, more of an alternative lifestyle newspaper. Since no one was near me on the train, I started flipping through the paper, seeing advertisements for clubs and bars, as well as articles about things that did not interest me. Then near the back of the paper I saw a wanted section, and one advertisement caught my eye. It was for young male models who wanted to make $ 1,000 plus a week. I never knew that people paid for males to model, especially that type of money. The ad was vague, but I ripped it out of the paper and put it in my pocket.
I thought nothing more of it as I returned back to the place I was staying only to be meant by my parent's friend who asked when I was leaving. I had just hit bottom I thought, so I started reading the evening paper trying to find a last minute place to live, no luck. Out of curiosity, I took out the modeling ad and tried to call the number several times, yet each time I chickened out. Finally the owner of the home ran out for a while, and I thought what the hell, I am alone no one would know if I called, what can it hurt.
The gentleman who answered the call was very pleasant, his name was Kevin, and I told him that I was answering the ad for young male models. Kevin asked me where I saw that ad and I told him which paper, and how I came across it. Kevin took his time and did not get right to the details; I could tell that he was trying to put me at ease. He asked me my age, 18, my body type, slim and if I had any tattoos or piercing's, which I answered no too. This seemed to please Kevin as he asked me if I could come by for an interview, he told me over the phone that I sounded like an ideal candidate. He gave me the directions to his office, and we agreed that I would drop by the next morning for an interview.
This could not have come at a better time as when my parent's friend returned home that night, I was told that he had reconsidered and that he wanted me out by the end of the week. With nothing to lose and only one option besides dropping out and moving to my parents, I got the train the next morning early than I needed. I dressed that morning in a nice button up quasi-dress shirt and a pair of nice blue jeans. I found Kevin's office, but was about two hours early, I just had to get out of that house that morning.
When I was in front of Kevin's office, which was in an older building several blocks away from the normal business district, I ran into a man who was passing by me to enter the building as I stood in front if it. The man asked me if I was waiting for anyone, and I told him no that I had an interview here later in the day, but had arrived early because I wanted to give myself time to find the building. That was a lie, but I did not want to sound like I was strange or desperate. Much to my surprise, it turned out to be Kevin, he asked me my name, then with a smile said you're early. He welcomed me to come inside, telling me that we could begin the interview process now if I wanted.
We sat in Kevin's office for a awhile just talking, he got to know my story and how I came to learn about his business. He then explained that if I was interested, that he would send me on "jobs" where I would be doing nude modeling amongst other things. I said that was fine, I just was never aware that there was a demand for male models. This is where the interview became serious; Kevin informed me that there was actually a high demand, especially for someone of my age and build, but that his clients preferred more interactive modeling, if I knew what he meant.
I said yes, not wanting to come across as naΓ―ve, and at that point Kevin said great. He then asked me if I would mind taking a couple of test shots then, and I said no. We started out by taking several head shots, including a few shots from the side. Next I stood up against the wall in the back of his office and he took more shots, soon asking me to unbutton my shirt. Next came the request to remove my pants and underwear, which I did and to my embarrassment I had an erection. Kevin said not to worry; it would actually excite his clients to see me this way.
So there I was with just my shirt on, he took a few more shots, then asked me to take the shirt off as well. Once fully nude, he had me stand up straight and took shots of me from in front, behind, then on both sides. Next he asked me to bend over for a few shots, and then we finished with me lying on top of his desk for what seemed like 10 to 15 shots. I was wondering if any were for him. Once that was done, Kevin told me that I had excellent potential and that it was basically up to me and how hard I wanted to work, as to how much money I could make. That was the best thing I could have ever heard considering the circumstances.
We concluded the meeting, once I had dressed, with Kevin asking me more detailed questions. He asked me about my past sexual experiences, I tried to dodge the question, but he was persistent. I finally said that I was still a virgin, which seemed to surprise him a lot. He asked me directly if that was true, and I said yes. I received the shock of my life with the next question; Kevin asked me if I wanted to make $ 10,000 for a one night assignment, I could not believe it and jumped at the chance. Kevin told me that a wealthy business client of his would just love to take my virginity, if I was willing.
It then hit me, the realization that this was not strictly modeling; instead it was an escort service. Either way I had no choice, so I said yes. Kevin told me that he would make the arrangements and would call me later that day. He gave me a hung, not a hand shake when I left his office, which was kind of a shock.