A Career In Debt Restructuring

Why the hell am I, Candy Sim, being tasked as the company's guarantor representative?! Christ, I should be running the company operations side by side with dad! Apparently I am "too inexperienced" to handle that so I have to start working my way up from the bottom. Come on, just because I spent more than a year after my University graduation full-time partying with my parents' money doesn't mean I "lack passion". I just want to enjoy myself to the fullest before stepping into this dull working world for the rest of my life.

And there's that dullness coming along as I wait at one of the debtors' flat for the debt collection agency to arrive. On my instructions, the debtor has already gone hiding elsewhere in the city while I handle the rest. Imagine having to anticipate a group of "ah bengs" (I suppose that term is the rough equivalent of a "redneck" in America) shouting and banging at the door, embarrassing the debtor or guarantor in front of their neighbours. Well, I may not live here, but these debt collectors' abusive, ugly remarks are still taking a toll on me. My dad wants me to negotiate debt restructuring but absolutely refuses giving a single cent away. The real objective for me as a "representative" is that I have to endure these jerks by playing for time over a period of many months, even years, until the debt collection agency gives up.

Finance is so complicated, all these admittedly shady cost cutting measures just to boost profitability in my father's company. Working hard to retain our wealth we are, Crazy Rich Asians we're not!

To my surprise, only one guy shows up at the doorstep without any commotion, a Chinese guy who I think is in his early 30s. He's in smart casual attire, a collared T-shirt and a pair of khaki pants. He sports crew-cut black hair with a plain average looking face that I probably won't be able to pick out from a crowd. But that still won't hide his ruffian-like past typical of his ilk in the licensed debt collection agencies - Ugly old tattoos of dragons with dull and faded ink adorns both his arms, covering up to his forearms almost like a long-sleeved shirt, along with that not-so-sophisticated english coming from a rough male voice.

Once inside the flat, he introduces himself as Mark Ong, offering his hand for me to shake, and I took it hesitantly. Mark calls himself the lead consultant from the KYS Rogan Agency, having mannerisms quite different compared to that of his colleagues. For starters, he's not as rude as I thought. Make no mistake though, he's not my type. Only well-groomed, well-accomplished gentlemen with a penchant for sophisticated topics would catch the attention of this urbane lady.

Without asking, he casually sits on the black sofa in the middle of the living room, as if this is his own home.

"Can use incense burner? Make me more comfortable." He smiles as he takes out a lighter and a brown ceramic pot with a phallic looking shape, setting the latter on the coffee table. Weird.

I shrug, allowing him to go ahead with it - Not my home anyway. However, something at the back of my mind is repeatedly screaming: GONG TAO, GONG TAO, GONG TAO - That folklore about black magic enchanting people to fall in love with their spellcaster, ringing in my head like crazy. But my training tells me to only think logically - So back to business it will be.

"Ms. Sim, my colleagues complain many time about you."

"So?" My arms cross defensively, as I stare at him with an impatient face.

"Your company big name I know, but rep cannot make decision on behalf of guarantor. Don't think we idiots, we know what your company trying to do. Your face every time show up when my guys go to different homes."

I scoff with a chuckle.

"Mr. Ong, don't preach morality with me. Instead of getting a real job, you guys go around pretending to uphold justice when you are no better than those loansharks, except that our government licenses you to do your nonsense."

"Hey hey hey, we don't loan, we only help people recover debts. And we don't vandalize houses okay? We just here to get paid, end of story."

"Whatever, come back again next week and maybe I will have a repayment plan ready," I wave him away, and he begins trying to reason. And by reason, I mean becoming more persistent in insisting that we settle this now.

It is then I get a whiff of the incense burning a few paces from me. The smell is exceptionally strong; it's weird but not unpleasant, almost like a lavender aroma. I am actually kind of thankful for that, my frayed nerves from regular interaction with low-lives demanding money are quickly soothing down.

"You know, Ms. Sim, I can suggest a faster way to solve our problem."

"Which is?"

"You don't like my guys come over disturb you, we also don't like to come over scream and shout each time. What if my suggestion allow you finish your job faster?" He suggests with a small smile with a glint in his eye.

"Oh I'm not paying a single cent," I sat on the sofa opposite him, smirking back at him.

"No need to pay at all, want to hear more?"

"Hmmm, sure," I muse as I take a deep breath. This sofa is getting really comfortable, rapidly calming me. Maybe Mark is getting onto something we can both talk about.

"You go think, if we write this off as bad debt, your problem solved already right?"

I nod. My company would no longer need to waste time and resources running circles around these agencies. But what needs to be done to end this bad debt as soon as possible?

"Got a debt restructuring procedure you can do, we reduce the debt amount unofficially. Repeat until zero. Then become bad debt. Guarantor no need pay anything!"

Something tells me this sound too good to be true, but I shut that inner voice up and lean closer with interest, motioning for Mark to continue. He sounds like someone I can trust. Or at least let's hear what he has to say. Mark stares into my eyes, pondering.

"So Ms. Sim..."

"Call me Candy."

"Candy, you so pretty. I don't know why you work here."

I blush in response to his sudden flattery, and chuckle a little.

"Thanks, actually I'm working for my father, he's the CEO. So about that plan?"

"I see... Not everyone can do this. Need someone like you, but also commitment. Interested?" He asks intently, looking into my eyes as if he's searching for a non-verbal response. I shrug.

"Sure, let's go along for now."

"You got boyfriend?"

"No."

"Sure or not? My guys tell me they find you damn cute. Can you stand up and turn your body around?"

I don't know why, but I'm in a good mood now. Having a guy praise me helps I guess. I giggle a little and stand up, making a twirl. I am wearing a light blue polka-dotted sundress. Its tight fit allows me to show off my trim and fit body, and is also short enough that it covers me just above my knees, hinting at a pair of thighs guys like to call sexy. Mark rubs his chin as he watches me.

"To start learning our way of debt restructuring, we got secret ritual in KYS Rogan," he pauses before continuing, "first you really want to do things quickly for your dad's company?"

"Of course."

"Then you must do everything I tell you, okay? No matter how weird it is. Forget what your parents and school tell you all these years. I explain along the way."

I nod my head in agreement.

"How do I start then?"

"Lock the door." He points to the flat entrance.

I did. Makes sense, he did say this is a secret.

"Now... On your knees and crawl over to me. This means you humble for learning."

I admit, that does sound weird initially. But he did warn me of the weirdness before, and anyway, his explanation about an action signifying humility makes sense too. So I painstakingly crawl on my fours, quietly wincing as my tender knees repeatedly make contact with the hard tiles on the floor, until I reach Mark, whose legs are now open before me. I'm now near the incense burner, where the smell is becoming so intoxicating. My head near his lap, I look up, awaiting my next instruction.

"Loosen my pants, unzip and pull out my cock. This help you visualize what you should do daily."

My mind is a blur. I have problems processing this odd act: The motive behind this ritual? But I suppose I can learn why later on. Mark really sounds so charming the way he puts these words across. I like that comforting smile on his face as he stares back at me.

I reach forward with my hands, unbuckling his belt. Unzipping it, I reach under his briefs and carefully pull out his cleanly shaved cock, which seems to be stiffening in my hands. So big, so warm. There's some familiar, friendly aura around what I am doing now.

"Open your mouth and start sucking my cock. I will explain later." Mark softly commands as his head lay back on the sofa.

I shake my head to clear the brain fog. Oh yes, I vaguely remember having sucked dick before, it is just that I have problem remembering when, and right now I don't even know what's the reason to do the same in this current situation. But Mark says I have to follow his instructions, so I just have to trust him here.

So my mouth engulfs his cock and I begin working on it. I make sure my tongue slides up and down the sensitive underside of his cock before teasing that bulbous head with circular motions. Only when I felt his cock swell and grow in size did I start going down on it a little more vigorously, as if on instinct. He groans, his hand gently stroking my face and hair as approval of what I am doing. When his cock grows fully hard, I pull out and briefly marvel at that size as I softly stroke it. I wonder in retrospect how my throat managed to accommodate his girth.

Mark gives his vocal and hand guidance occasionally on what part of his cock and when to pay special attention to. In a strained, moaning voice, he also reminds me why I am doing this.

"Serve debt collector's big cock so that he happy, he minus from your debt, you also happy."

Indeed, as Mark suggests, it pleases me too when I hear him groan with unrestrained lust after I swallow his fully erect length, with my throat muscles working on squeezing it as I move my head.

"Remember, each session must make guy cum, then only he want to come back again."

As Mark's repeated lessons register in my mind, I take them to heart and with all eagerness I bob my head up and down on his hard tool for several rounds and soon I sense his cock head swelling and his hips involuntarily moving up and down thrusting down my throat... Lesson totally makes sense. When he orgasms he's at his peak joy, and he expects that in exchange for reducing what is owed, so make him cum I must. My hand returns to the base of his cock and I begin stroking it hard while my mouth sucks on his swollen cock head intensely.

"Ohhhhhhhh fuck! Don't spit out!" His legs raise and shake, his ass lifting off the couch. The first blast of his semen hits the back of my throat, with subsequent bursts flooding my tongue. Obediently, I resist the temptation to spit out just as he instructed. I just remain between his legs staring back at him as he recovers from his orgasm.

In his languished but satisfied state on the couch, he continues telling me what to do.

"Swallow, then I teach you secret to zero-payment debt restructuring."

I steel myself and gulp it, then showing him my empty tongue as proof, and he sighs in a gratified tone. The first time I let a man cum in my mouth, and the first time I swallowed too. I smile back in return. I take back my initial low opinion of Mark. Despite his upbringing, I think he would be a great teacher...

After Mark zipped up his pants, he pats my head like a pet and pulls me up. By now, the smoke from the incense burner gives the living room a haze-like atmosphere. Everything around me remains kind of fuzzy, but I am grateful for Mark's presence in providing some sense of security. I was supposed to avoid him, but to think he is generous enough to guide me through on debt restructuring - None of my colleagues would even do that for me! He is looking more attractive the more I stare at him. Strange, why didn't I notice that when I first met him?

That superstitious warning sparks from the back of my mind yet again: Gong Tao. Can that really be true? Nah. Besides, those alarm bells fade away when I take another deep breath of the incense aroma and remind myself of Mark's irresistible charm with his sweet voice and the way he talks.

"Blowjob just one example on how to make us happy. Let me tell you other ways."

We sit next to each other closely while Mark helpfully goes through a printed list of sex acts on a piece of paper titled "KYS Rogan services", pointing out their costs i.e.: how much would the agency deduct from what is owed.

Some points are new to me. I didn't know that a bareback blowjob, covered blowjob, and a covered full service all cost the same price as long as they are within the stated time limit. Exceed, and the guy needs to pay up for another session if he wants to continue. Good, time is money - beats having to attend those annoying company meetings where we often overshoot the allocated time. Also, I have the freedom to choose to accept private tips for things like if the guy wants me to do something more exciting such as facials or cum swallowing. Or even "exotic" acts like BDSM. All of this, we can talk it out first. And of course, premium services like anal and bareback full service have their set prices too, the latter of which is reportedly the most popular.

What can I say? This is really a very different way from how my company traditionally does debt restructuring - This is so much more refreshing and interesting!

Business and pleasure can potentially mix, as Mark is already demonstrating to me as an example. I giggle as his free hand softly strokes my inner thigh while he explains the costs. For part of my on-job training, I reciprocate as our bare feet play footsie. And after we are done with the list, he stands up. But this isn't over yet.

I close my eyes and sigh with lust when his hands massage my shoulders, his lips whispering in my ear how attractive he finds me. His hand makes his way under my sundress where he cups my bra-clad breast and begins gently squeezing. My ex-lovers from the past spent days wooing me with gifts and expensive dinners before I even thought about jumping their bones. From the clock on the wall, an hour has passed and I have already swallowed this ex-thug's semen and also agreed to work out the debt using his way. Mark is really an amazing and charming smooth talker.

He grabs my arm, dragging me off the chair.

"Go bedroom, I teach you S.O.P," he murmurs as his hand slides down to my waist, my head lies back on his shoulder. I am feeling so secure: Still new to such ways, there is comfort in being taught by who I believe is a master at his craft. I can trust whatever Mark wants to do to me, so I am sure this new standard operating procedure for my job will be pretty fun.

And along the way, he takes that weird-looking incense burner with him.

The debtor's bedroom is pretty old and basic, but what's important is that there's a neatly set queen-sized bed with blankets and pillows in one corner. The other corner leads to the showers. Mark sets the incense burner on the nightstand before facing me again.

"Don't be shy. Guys like you naked. Strip." Mark instructs.

So before his hungry roving eyes, I pull my sundress up and over my shoulders, tossing it aside. I look down at myself. A pair of thin lacy bra and panties with matching pink colours, a view I reserve only for my most intimate lovers... Mark also included? His breath seems to stop as his eyes focus on my pokies through my bra, proof of my arousal. As he has already taught me, I understand I am supposed to turn him on in the bedroom. I start by slowly sashaying to him with a smile while I unhook the bra behind my back.

He sighs when he sees my toplessness, and almost on auto-pilot he's quickly undressing. That is what other guys would also do when they see me undress, signaling the start of a transaction.

While my panties slide down my legs and I step out of them, he's eagerly rushing to pull off his pants, and then underwear. We are both fully naked now. My thoughts, mostly void of anything other than the moment in this bedroom, tells me that Mark is the most attractive guy I have laid my eyes on. That power he exudes through his physique, accentuated by those beautifully drawn dragon tattoos which also covers his back and chest as well. Have I mentioned how colorful that entire artwork is?

"You, I, shower together," is his next succinct instruction.

To prepare for the girlfriend experience, we need to gargle mouthwash. And we start casually feeling each other up by applying gel soap on our erogenous parts. A playful attitude helps break the ice and set the mood, I am told.

As the water from the shower head falls on us, he grabs my ass and holds our wet bodies together. My soapy breasts rubbing against his hard body, making me sigh with anticipation against his shoulder. He grunts his approval, saying that I should feel pleasure as well when serving other clients. Moaning from authentic pleasure always trumps the fake ones. Yes sir, I must enjoy what I am doing.

This is very true; clients in the future won't necessarily be giving me instructions. Shy ones would also mean that I have to take the initiative and go through these standard operating procedures. Meanwhile, let me indulge in this feeling of safety and security from having a master guide me around.

Once the water washes the suds off us, we dry up and head back to the bed.

"You must show more passion," he remarks, and unexpectedly he aggressively grabs my face and presses his lips against mine. We embrace and kiss, exchanging spit as our tongues examine each other and the crevices around our mouth. My body is heating up and I can feel his cock growing a little at my belly.

Our bodies fall on the bed; under his massive frame I utter appreciative moans when his hands roam all over my body. His hand slides up my thighs before grabbing my pussy and massaging it with his fingers. His head also moves down, taking a nipple in his mouth, gently sucking on it. Then he stops abruptly, leaving me wanting more. My eyes open again, wondering what happened.

"Guys don't always give you foreplay okay? Keep your hands, mouth or pussy busy, you must enjoy fucking guys," he helpfully points my problem out.

I nod obediently. He's right. Men are paying for pleasure with my body. They are not paying to pleasure me. To emphasize his point, he now lies on the bed passively, expecting me to show my dedication. And I must.

My hand reaches for his cock and I begin softly stroking it. He says I must enjoy it. And indeed I like the sight and feel of his cock twitching in my hand as it gradually goes back to life.

"Find love in what you do," Mark's mantra repeats over and over again as I train myself in the male-centered foreplay. The soothing lavender-like aroma from the incense seems to help drill the message home too. His words reach the deepest recesses of my mind, vanquishing all doubts I have about men and all warnings about black magic. In place of that, new messages etch into my long term memory. I can trust any man. I am here to serve men sexually. I love what I am doing. This is the new me, and I love the new me.

I shake from my daze and glance back at Mark, who now expectantly points at his cock which I am still gripping tightly. I smile sweetly in response, having finally and fully understood my assignment.

I start with my mouth. While my hand continues stimulating his cock, my lips make contact with his, as I aim to deliver a passionate experience reminiscent of a lover. Slowly, my mouth moves down to his nipples, lightly teasing him before I slide down to his cock. So there it is, my hand rubbing the base of his cock just like before, as I lick its swelling head. His pointers and guidance from the start till now registered in my head, giving me the necessary moves I need to please a man orally so that I can resuscitate his cock back to its fully erect state.