Angel's Story.
I'd been putting it off for ages. That is never a good thing to do but ... Now I was sat staring at the laptop in the dead of night and scared of the future. I was horrendously in debt! Too many nights out. Too many clothes and shoes bought on a whim. Add to that the joys of my first credit card. Things had finally come to a head yesterday when I was out shopping, and my card was refused. The humiliation of having to walk out of the store, no doubt watched through the raised eyebrows of the sales assistant. Now I had to face reality.
I spent the rest of that night sleepless, my befuddled brain trying to work out some sort of plan. By the morning nothing had come to me. My flatmate found me in the kitchen sulking into my coffee.
"Hey, what's up? Are you ill?"
Silvie was the sweetest person I knew, and her genuine concern tipped me over the edge. I burst into tears. Without a word she came up and put her arm round my shoulder. She pushed a tissue into my hand and simply hugged me. We ended up on the sofa in the living room. I was already late to leave for work but instead I just clung to her for comfort. Little by little she dragged it out of me. The silly over-spending, the massive debt. The problem seemed to come down, not just to curb my spending, but how to deal with the debt.
I have a lowly job working in some godforsaken warehouse, sorting out deliveries. It isn't hard work nor is it mentally very taxing which also means that it's not very well paid. I was just too lazy to look for anything better. I had fooled myself with the pretend riches that a credit card could bring. Eventually I stopped crying and wiped my eyes. I looked at Silvie.
"What the fuck can I do?"
"How much are you in for?" she asked, being practical as always.
When I told her she whistled through her teeth. "Wow, babe, that's bad."
"Okay, let's talk practicalities. This month's rent?"
I glumly shook my head and said, "I don't think I can." I could feel the tears threatening to start again but she interrupted my moment of self-pity.
"Okay, I'll cover that and you can owe me. I'm guessing food as well?"
I managed a nod.
"No probs, but no more nights out or any fancy dining. Agreed?"
I nodded again, summoning up a little more enthusiasm. If there was anyone who could help me out of this, it was Silvie. She started to ask me more detailed questions about my income and lifestyle, even getting me to bring my laptop down and looking through my finances. Gradually my faith in her grew.
We were an odd couple in many ways. We are both gay women, but we weren't 'together' so to speak. At one point in the dim and distant past we had once shared a bed together but in the morning, we had agreed that our friendship was more precious. We went our separate ways as far as partners were concerned. We would both occasionally bring a girl home and have manic sex for a couple of days before reverting to our usual routine of watching box sets and sleeping alone in our own beds.
"Right," she finally said decisively, "what you need is more income and less spending. I can't believe they pay so badly."
"Its minimum wage," I said trying to defend them.
"It's a fucking disgrace is what it is," she replied. She paused before continuing, "I have one suggestion, but you may not like it."
She looked at me quizzically, trying to work out my possible reaction to what she was about to say. For my part I perked up to think there might be a solution.
"You could come and work with me at the Agency."
When Silvie and I first met she'd been working in a call centre, a job as humble and lowly as mine. She was a friend of a friend who happened to be there on a girl's night out. We got on really well from the get-go but not in a sexually attracted to each other way. We just seemed to blend together really well. During the evening she happened to mention she was looking for a flatmate and I said I was hunting for somewhere nicer than my current bedsit. Within a week I'd moved in. After our mistaken attempt at having sex I think she was right. Instead of lovers we became very special friends. When she quit her job at the call centre and started on this new one, she was a little vague about the details, but her mood changed. She was suddenly much happier, and she was clearly earning a lot more money. She bought herself a small car for starters. So, when she mentioned the Agency, I was both intrigued and a little nervous. I found the name a little scary.
"Hey, don't look so worried, it's not what you think. The hours are good, and the money is fucking amazing. You could work off your debt in a couple of months."
"But I've never understood what you do?"
"We have the arduous task of going out to dinner and being company for professional women. And it's usually very posh restaurants as well."
"They pay for that?" I asked, feeling a little shocked.
"Okay, most of the time they expect a little more, but we've all been there, haven't we?"
I suddenly blushed as memories came flooding back. I had once allowed myself to be chatted up in a bar by a woman who must have been knocking on the door of 60. As it turned out she was amazing in bed. She took me back to her hotel and did things to me I'd never experienced before.
"The point is that after the meal is when you make all the money."
It was slowly dawning on me what I was being offered. On the one hand a chance to get out of my current problem, on the other I was being asked to sell my body. I had no idea what that must be like, but I only had one example of it in real life and that was Silvie. Since she had started this new job, she was noticeably much livelier and, more important from my current point of view, more financially stable. What could be wrong with, at least, giving it a go.
"So ... what would I have to do?" I asked.
"Well, you could come in with me this evening and I can introduce you to Mrs B."
"Who's she?"
