With that, the young man jumped up off the couch and ran to her. Within seconds the door was slammed shut. I couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, but I could definitely make out the crack of the whip, and the young redhead screaming, ‘Please,’ or ‘More, Miss.’
After I’d been working at the brothel for about a week, I went out and bought some lacy black lingerie. I had never worn expensive underwear before and I spent nearly $100 on the outfit. I wasn’t working that night and was in my bedroom trying it on when a friend of one of my flatmates arrived. Passing my partially open door, he saw me, paused and then walked right in. I was in front of the mirror and he came up behind me. The fact that he was getting married in a couple of weeks didn’t stop him from placing his hands on my hips. I could tell they were going to be on my breasts within seconds. He asked me where I’d got the money for the clothes.
I told him I was stripping; that I’d lost my job and needed the money. He said that that sounded really sexy and moved his hands around my waist. The guy had met Ben last time he was down and asked me if Ben knew what I was doing.
‘I haven’t had a chance to tell him yet,’ I lied.
‘Don’t you care what he thinks?’ he asked.
‘I’m the only one who has to support me,’ I said. ‘If he wants to lose me over it then fine, but I think he sees more in me than just my occupation.’
He touched me again. I suddenly remembered that men paid to touch me these days. I was worth something.
‘You should ask a girl if she wants to be touched before you take it upon yourself to start fondling her. Leave me alone,’ I said.
He stared at me for the longest time in the mirror, absorbing what I had said. I’m sure it wasn’t what I’d said but more the fact I’d had the guts to be so direct. He walked out of the room and announced loudly to the guys sitting in the lounge room that I had a new job and fancy attire to match. I pleaded with them not to tell Ben if he called and promised I would tell him myself. I had been living with Daryl and Jason since Mum had told me to get out of her home. They were OK guys and didn’t ask too much about my family situation and we stayed out of each other’s way.
At the time it suited me, but about a month after they found out about the ‘stripping’ job, Jason told me he thought it was inappropriate that a young girl was living in a house with two men. Maybe they were worried about their reputations; that my new life was a little too outrageous for them. Heaven knows what they would have thought if they knew what I was really doing.
By this stage I had saved enough money for my own place and as I didn’t want them to find out what I was really doing, I thought it best I moved out.
Finding a place was not the problem; justifying my income was. I found an adorable two-bedroom flat with views of the ocean for $120 a week; I had to have it. I completed the rental application, listing myself as a nanny for Ellen and Peg’s children. Two hours later I got a phone call from the property manager.
‘Hi Annika, I have a few questions about your rental application,’ he said. ‘Are you aware Ellen and Peg don’t have any children?’
I began to sweat but remained silent. He took pity on me. ‘I’ve been renting to Ellen and Peg for years. Look, just pay your rent on time and it’s yours.’
I signed a six-month lease and later the real estate agent and I became great friends; in fact, in return for a few favours he would change the dates on some of my receipts, such as paid through to July rather than June for example.
***
I may have been earning good money but I was still pretty naive. I seemed intent on learning the hard way. One evening a client came in drunk, with a serious case of verbal diarrhoea. He kept on and on about how beautiful I was, but I dismissed his words, since he’d soon be sober and wouldn’t even remember his visit. However, the next day he was waiting outside for me when I arrived at work. He fell all over me, telling me how fabulous and awesome I was, and invited me to his place for a drink the next day. I said yes because I didn’t realise I could say no. I thought surely he knew the drill—I go to his place and he’ll pay me and I might get to keep the lot for myself. I didn’t tell any of the other girls, which was a pity because they would have put me straight.
When I arrived at his house, he poured me a lemonade as I didn’t drink alcohol. He proceeded to seduce me on the couch and I let him; why wouldn’t I—I was getting paid, right? Afterwards, when I was dressed, a woman walked in. It was his wife; I listened, dumbfounded as he introduced me as someone selling linen door to door. She was asking me tricky questions like where were my samples and I suddenly had a lightbulb moment: this guy didn’t care about me—he was just after free sex! Why was I backing up his bullshit? He had no intention of paying me! How ignorant I was not to have said no in the first place. I got even with him before I walked out by telling her how we’d met and that we’d just had sex.
***