I will be honest, I didn’t do much research before becoming an Escort. Despite the risks and criticism, after meeting Lucy, I just knew what I had to do in order to make it on my own. All I did was type in google: “Ottawa Escorts.” A bunch of escorting companies had come up, I looked at all of them and came across an intriguing one. Pink Kitty. I called the number that was on the website, and this woman with a soft but stern voice had picked up. For a second I thought I had called the wrong number.. Until the woman introduced herself as Lisa and strummed out numerous questions such as; “what is your bra size, hair color, weight, ethnicity and what were my restrictions?” “RESTRICTIONS… what do you mean?” 

Restriction; the limitation or control of someone or something, or the state of being limited or restricted. 

Meaning if I had any sexual restrictions. I had said, “Not that I know of, why should I?” She immediately responded, “You’re perfect for the job, when can you start?”. My immediate thought was how could this woman know I’m perfect when she hasn’t even met me, all she has are a few photos I sent her from the summer past. 

The next day, a driver named Damien showed up at my door to take me to the Condo where I would work. Damien was thirty six years old, 5’4 with dark brown depleted eyes and modish clothing. His hair was always slicked back and greasy looking while wearing Dior Sauvage cologne. He was egocentric with psychopathic tendencies. If Damien took a liking to you, he would be this charming man, hanging on your every word as if everything you were saying was important. Many were fooled by his charm, however, I was not. 

My first day was rattling; I’ve never felt so nervous in my life. I realized that I would be selling my body to pay my rent, pay for food, and overall to live. I kept asking myself if it was worth it, is it worth lying to everyone about, but I also kept in mind this is only temporary… so I thought in the beginning.  

When I walked into the condo, it wasn’t what I had expected. I was expecting what I had seen on television and movies where they hangout at glamorous clubs and hotels. Drinking expensive champagne and wearing Louboutins. Instead, girls were on the couch watching movies, some girls were cooking food, some doing their makeup and others were taking a nap. Clothes were everywhere, most of the girls were wearing jogging pants or pjs. As soon as they got “a call” a.k.a a Jon/client they would immediately transform into this Barbie. What I mean by “Barbie” they would look like the male fantasy; perfect hair, perfect makeup, their nails were done, they had fake eyelashes, some had extensions, big boobs, super skinny and to top it off each one of them smelled amazing. They would be wearing top line lingerie and louis Vuitton heels wrapped in a silk robe to answer the door and take them to one of the rooms.

Damien took sexy photos of me to post on Backpage to promote me. I was wearing a leopard print lace slip I had since high school, with black heels that one of the other girls had lent me. I had light makeup on and my hair was straightened.

 As I answered the door, the Jon immediately tried to french kiss me as he’s forcing himself into the door. I said let’s wait until we get to the room and exchange “gifts” money. 

Our rates were $120 for half an hour and $140 for an hour. Lisa would take 40% and $150 for the room per day you work at the condo. Unless you have a bunch of clients, you don’t make as much as most people would think. 

Once we had got into the room he was aggressive, asking me to do things I’ve never done nor would I want to. Like “BB” (Bare back, no condom), anal, “CIM” (Cum in mouth) “BBBJ” (Bare back blow job). He had thrown me onto my back on the bed, taken my panties off, ate my pussy out while I stared at the ceiling waiting for it to be over until he flipped me onto my stomach, slipped the condom on and popped a nut within a minute. Pulled up his pants and left. I was traumatized. Mortified even. However, I had other calls lined up for me and at that point, there was no turning back.