Panties for Sale

by York, Mattie

“Oh god, many. Too many. And they are always changing their location, their names, their owners. Usually an agency gets into trouble with the police or they don’t look after their girls. Then they get a bad reputation so they have to change.” Angela slid closer to the edge of the couch and leaned forward. “Before I started my own agency, I was with this other one. I’m not going to name any names. But they were awful. They only cared about money and how much I could make them. They would book me whenever they could. 2 or 3 times a day. They would send me out to places that they never even checked out, dirty apartments, sketchy hotels. Mostly out on the east side. And they didn’t arrange my transportation. Sometimes I had to take a taxi to my appointments. Out of my own pocket!”

  “Why didn’t you just quit?”

  “I did,” Angela tried to run her fingers through her hair but they got stuck in a tangle and she yanked at the mess, ripping out many strands of hair before freeing her fingers. Alex watched in horror as Angela flicked the loose hair strands haphazardly onto the sofa. “I quit eventually. Fuck them.” Angela paused and looked closely at Alex. “I didn’t want to get into this today, but you need to hear this.” Pulling her t-shirt down over her knees, Angela wiggled herself forward until she was at the edge of the sofa.

  “It had seemed like just any other appointment. My manager,” she twisted her gold rings around her finger, “he was a bastard. He was constantly double booking me, sending me out twice a day. He never called ahead to confirm that the clients were actually at the location before I left. One time, I took a cab all the way out to the airport and the client wasn’t even there. I had to pay for that cab fare.” Reaching across the table, she pushed aside the Pepsi can and grabbed a white coffee mug. ‘Best Mom’ was emblazoned in bright red and framed with yellow stars. Angela swirled the liquid around in the bottom and gulped it down.

  “That day,” Angela coughed, “I had to take a cab. And that appointment was out in the east end, you know, in Scarborough. I don’t know why I went. I didn’t want to. I hated calls out in Scarborough. Too far. I called my manager that day, like 10 times and he never called me back. All I knew was the hotel name and room number. I was pissed off. I didn’t want another wild goose chase. I really shouldn’t have gone, you know? But,” she shrugged, “I needed the money.”

  She drained the cup and put it back down on the table. “When I got to the hotel room, the door was open a crack. I knocked, but no one answered. I totally thought I had been screwed again, so I pushed the door open and walked in. There wasn’t anyone there. I was so pissed off at my manager. That was it. The last straw. Fuck him, I thought. I was going to call him and quit as soon as I got home. But as I turned to leave, the door slammed shut in my face. Out of nowhere, this guy grabbed me and threw me down on the bed.”

  “Oh my god!”

  “No honey, it gets worse. That bastard must have been hiding behind the door. He sat on top of me so I couldn’t move. I was screaming so loud, I can’t believe nobody heard me. I tried to kick him with my feet, but he was strong. And prepared. He knew what he was doing. He wrapped panty hose around my neck and pulled it tight. I could barely breathe. He said if I didn’t shut up he would kill me. I didn’t know what to do. I was terrified.” Alex stared at Angela. She knew she should say something, but what? What do you say to that?

  Finally after a long uncomfortable silence, Angela continued. “He was a big man, unshaven with a gold tooth. Right here,” Angela pointed to her left front tooth. “And he had the coldest black eyes,” she shivered. “He ripped my clothes off with one hand. He pulled the hose so tight around my neck it pulled my head back. I thought he was going to kill me right there. I could barely breathe. I couldn’t see what he was doing. I couldn’t scream for help.”

  Angela shuddered and closed her eyes. Even now, years later, she could still remember every second - the terror, the shock, the pain. It had felt like her insides were being sliced open. She never forgot that awful suffocating feeling of lying face down on the bed, his heavy body on top of her, covering her in his sweat, his grime, his filth; the feeling of her body shaking uncontrollably, her lungs burning as she gasped for breath.

  “He left. After he was done. Didn’t even get his name. Left a pile of bills on the floor. Just threw them down, didn’t even say thank you. Like I was dirt, or something. My manager called, a few times, you know afterwards, wanting the money for that job,” Angela sneered. “No class, eh? Fuck him. As if I was going to give him anything. No, I never worked for that bastard again. Actually, I never worked for anyone again. That’s when I decided to start my own company.” Angela suddenly stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

  Alex watched her disappear behind the curtains. What the hell? Why did Angela tell her that story? Was she trying to scare her? Didn’t she want her to work for her? What the hell? And after that why would you stay in this business? How could you go on another appointment? How could you look at another man without being terrified? That doesn’t make any sense.

  But then, Alex thought, maybe it does. In a weird sort of way. It’s like she took what happened and is trying to make it right. She could have left, but she didn’t. Instead, she decided to change things. To help other girls. To stop that from happening again.

  3

  “There was supposed to be another girl coming in today,” Angela returned with a stack of papers in her hand. “I thought it might be more comfortable with two of you. But it doesn’t look like she was able to make it either.” She shrugged and handed Alex the papers, “You’re already hired if you want. These are just some details we need to know for the website.”

  “Oh, ok,” Alex took the papers and started filling in the blanks. Name: Alex Stewart. Age: 24. Height: 5’6”. Weight: What? Why did Angela have to know that? She scanned down the rest of the list. Cup size? Dress size? Shoe size? Why did Angela need to know all this personal information? Were the clients really that specific when they asked for a girl?

  Angela sat back down. “You’re probably wondering about the logistics and how things work, so let’s just get right down to the details, ok?” Alex put down the forms to listen.

  “Ok, the fee for each call is $400. For one hour. $100 off the top comes to me. The rest of the money is yours to keep. $300 for an hours work. Not bad, eh?”

  “That sounds better than I thought,” Alex was impressed. If she made just $300 a day, for 5 days, that’s $1000. That was already more than she made with her temp agency. Just an hour a day and she wouldn’t even have to work weekends. She could pay off her car in no time.

  “Also, tips are yours. Jewelry, presents, anything else you get is yours. You can accept it or not. Yes,” Angela smiled, “you will get presents. Lots of my girls call me after an appointment to tell me about a new necklace or bracelet their client gave them. Nice stuff too. One girl just got a diamond necklace from Harry Winston. Real diamonds. That’s worth at least $2000.00. Yes, that is definitely one of the little perks about this job.” Angela picked up a clipboard, “Ok, now I have to know. Sexually, what exactly are you comfortable doing? Kissing? Is that ok?”

  “Of course,” Alex laughed.

  Angela looked up. “Really? That's a good point for you. What about oral sex?”

  “Um, sure.”

  “Both ways? You’ll go down on him and he can go down on you?”

  Alex nodded, feeling her cheeks starting to burn.

  “And regular sex with a condom, of course. Always with a condom.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And Greek?”

  “Greek?”

  “Oh,” Angela laughed, “you know, up the ass.”

  “Oh, no,” Alex reached up and started to twirl a strand of hair. “No, I’m not comfortable with that.”

  “Oh. Ok. How about another girl? Multiple partners?”

  “Are you serious? Is that a possibility?”

  “Of course,” Angela nodded, “that is a relatively new service we offer. But you would be surprised
how popular it is. Two girls are every man’s fantasy and three are even better.”

  Alex pulled at her earring. “Maybe later, when I get more comfortable. I think it’s better for me to just stick to the basics for now.”

  “Ok then,” Angela wrote a few more notes at the bottom of the page, “that’s about it.”

  “Oh, one more thing,” A vision of Forest Gump and Lieutenant Dan’s New Years’ Eve celebration flashed through Alex’s mind. “Um, no wheelchair, or handicapped people. At least not right away,”

  “Oh,” Angela frowned, “no, that’s ok for now but you may change your mind. I have a few very nice clients in mind. Let’s just get you started and we’ll see how things go.”

  “Ok,” Although Alex was still unsure, her doubts were slowly beginning to be overrun with visions of an overflowing bank account.

  “You do want to do the photo shoot today, don’t you?”

  “Sure” Alex nodded. “I’m ready. I wasn’t exactly sure what to bring or what look you were going for, so I’ve brought a few outfits.”

  “Wonderful,” Angela leaned over and took the completed forms from Alex. “Oh no,” she shook her head, “you gave me the real you. No,” she laughed, “you’re not supposed to put your real sizes down. This information is for the website. My clients don’t want to know about the real you, they want to know the Marilyn Monroe version of you.”

  Ripping the form in half, Angela grabbed another one from the desk. “Ok, let’s start again,” we’ll leave the name blank for now. You will have to come up with a nickname. Try to think of something sexy. Something easy to remember, something that sticks in your head, you know, easy to repeat,” she winked at Alex. “You don’t want to use your real name, do you? Alex? Although,” she paused, “you know, that might work. All my Angels have an A name, it’s kind of our trademark. Let’s see, we already have an Amanda, an Amy, Alice, Ashley, Aphrodite, Aaliyah, Ava. No, Ava’s gone. She went back to school.” Angela counted the escorts on her fingers. “Angel, Ashanti, Akasha, Alicia.. Oh, I can’t think of all of them,” she sighed, “better check it out on our website. Oh, and A.J. But, we don’t have an Alex yet. It’s up to you. I’ll let you think about that. OK. Height, 5”6. Good. Weight, 140?” Angela raised her eyebrows and looked at Alex.

  “That’s close,” Alex blushed.

  “No, the boys will never believe you weigh that much. And you won’t get any clients. Boys think 140 is fat. No honey, you are not fat. I know that. Let’s see,” she looked Alex up and down. “125, that sounds about right.”

  “Hips? Um, 36. Waist 30. Chest 36. Cup D. No, better make that DD.”

  “Damn,” laughed Alex, “I sure look good on paper.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Honey, I think you are beautiful just as you are. It’s just well, it’s men,” she sighed, “sometimes, they are thick. They only look for Marilyn Monroe numbers. Don’t worry, as soon as they see you, they will forget all about the numbers on the order form. Ok, now, let’s see what you have brought.”

  Alex opened her bag and rummaged through it, carefully pulling out a white lace body suit, “I thought this would work for the angel shot.”

  She had bought it on credit specifically for the shoot. Angela had insisted that all Angels have a photo done in sexy white lingerie with large angel wings strapped onto their shoulders. That was the signature ‘Angel’ photo. But what single unmarried girl has all white lingerie outfits just lying around?

  Alex hadn’t wanted to disappoint Angela on the first interview, so she made a special trip to La Senza. Alex laughed at the thought of that trip. The sales lady had actually thought she needed it for her wedding night. See? Why else would someone buy an all-white lace outfit?

  “Yes, that is good,” Angela nodded in approval at the white outfit and then dumped the rest of the contents out onto the bed. “These will work,” she said as she sifted through the colourful collection of lingerie. “This black thong will work with the purple backdrop. You can just wear that and I’ll shoot you from behind, you know, covering your boobs with your hands?” She looked up at Alex. “Yes, good. And this pink demi, this will look good with these hot pink heels. We can do that on the bed, with the pillows. And this, red lace. Oh sexy!” She held up the red lacy bra, this will go with the city night backdrop. You can wear a fedora with your hair up and bright red lipstick”. As she talked she organized the outfits and laying them on the bed. When she was done, she surveyed the collection. “Something is missing, we need more, something exciting. Not so predictable.” She disappeared into her walk in closet.

  “Aha!” Angela dangled a tiny spandex leopard print dress from her fingers. “I know, I know,” she laughed at Alex’s horrified face, “it looks cheap. It was only 10 dollars. But you never know. Girls are always looking for something new to wear. It doesn’t work as well on me as I had hoped. But I just have this feeling that it might work on you. Go on, try it on.”

  “Right here?”

  “Sure go ahead.”

  Taking the dress, Alex tried to pretend she was comfortable as Angela watched her undress and squeeze herself into the leopard print dress. “Put this on,” Angela handed Alex her a black push up bra, “And take off your panties. You don’t want to see any lines around your stomach.”

  “Ooh, that is to die for!” Angela squealed when Alex stood up. “You fill that out perfectly. Just look at that cleavage! I knew it.” Angela beamed like she had just discovered a pot of gold. “Ok, we will definitely take pictures of you in that!”

  Alex wasn’t sure. She studied her reflection in the full length mirror. It was something she would never ever pick out for herself. But, as she turned around, the lycra did seem to work miracles, squeezing everything in where it needed to be squeezed in and pushing everything else out. The brown and black print made her blonde hair glisten and the very high slit on either side showed off her legs which looked tanned against the animal print. The unbelievably low neckline showed off her emphasized cleavage. Alex put her hands on her hips and stepped back. With her tall black boots, the whole outfit screamed Pamela Anderson in Barb Wire. All she needed, Alex thought, was some collagen injections, a makeup and hairdressing team and some strategically placed fire arms and she could be Pam’s stunt double. Well, maybe.

  “You know, I have a few clients in mind who would pay at least $100 extra just to see you dressed up like that. Oh yes, that is yours, you have to keep that!"

  4

  “Chieko. That is a lovely name. Is it Chinese?”

  “Nei, Japanese.”

  “Oh, of course,” Angela smiled at the quiet Asian girl perched on the edge of her sofa. “It’s too bad you had trouble finding my house. I thought bus 23 came straight here. You know to the stop right over on Don Mills. I never take the bus, myself. So I could be wrong. Anyways, I’m glad you found it here in the end.” Angela’s long red fingernails flicked absentmindedly as she watched the young girl, waiting for a response.

  “I had another girl start today too. I was hoping that the two of you could have met. I thought it would be helpful to have someone to talk to, since you are both beginners. Maybe I’ll set up a meeting with you two anyways. For coffee?” Angela paused, then leaned forward, “Coffee? Do you like coffee?”

  “Hai, Yes,” Chieko looked up and nodded. Angela smiled and then she picked up a pen and jotted down a quick note to herself.

  Chieko lowered her head again. She didn’t have any trouble finding Angela’s house. She had sat right at the front of bus 23, watching closely for the Don Mills bus stop. When the bus stopped, she easily followed Angela’s directions down the street and across the parking lot. She was just about to cross Simcoe Avenue, when a blonde girl jumped out of her shiny car, right in front of Chieko and strutted up the stairs to the front door of 215 Simcoe Ave. Chieko watched the girl’s wavy blonde hair as it swayed seductively, her shiny black high heels tip-tapping their way up to the big white house. She looked just like a Hollywood movie st
ar. When Chieko looked down at her own flat chest, her small boyish frame and baggy clothes, she just couldn’t bring herself to follow. How could she compete with a real live Barbie doll? What man would choose her over that? What little confidence Chieko had had when she set out that morning quickly evaporated into the mist. Dejected, she had turned and shuffled back to the bus stop.

  She sat, waiting for over half an hour, but bus 23 never came back. And then it started to rain. Cold, wet and miserable, Chieko ran across the street to take refuge in Tim Horton’s. With a Boston cream donut and a cup of hot coffee, Chieko sat down on a hard orange plastic chair and cupped her hands around the hot cardboard cup to stop herself from shivering. “Dame,” she muttered staring out at the rain. Now what was she going to do? What other job could she get? Being an escort had seemed like the perfect solution. She didn’t need a visa, or have to speak perfect English. Pleasing men was already something she was good at.

  Chieko looked around the donut shop. Maybe she could work here? The girls behind the counter didn’t speak English so well. Maybe there was one closer to her apartment that needed help? There were cafes everywhere. They were popular and their uniforms were nice Chieko sighed. The salary probably wasn’t enough for her. And that didn’t matter because she probably needed a visa to work there.

  “Baka,” she scolded her reflection in the rain splattered window. Why was she so weak? Why didn’t she just go to the appointment? It was all arranged. Angela was expecting her. “Damé Chieko. You have to do this,” she muttered to herself. “It’s the only way.” Her rent was already a month overdue.

  “Honey? Did you hear what I said?” Angela was staring at her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, sumisen. I was, I am tired.”

  “Oh you poor dear,” Angela looked at Chieko with concern. “Have you eaten lunch?”

  “Kekkoudesu, onaka suite imasen, um, no,” Chieko realized she had spoken Japanese and tried to explain in English, “I forget.”