Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
There’s something about Ebony that draws me in and cracks me up. A lilt in her voice, so natural and so funny. No wonder clients go crazy over her.
“Sorry,” she says when we stop giggling. “Right, yes. The naughty list. It’s quite a detailed one. You’ve got your staples, of course – they don’t give you an account if you don’t tick the staples. BJs, being eaten out, pussy fucking. The rest is up to you. Most people have anal as standard, but the list goes on and on.”
I’m fascinated by the idea of this list… I wonder what else could be on there.
“How dirty does it get?”
“Oh, baby, trust me. It gets filthy. As filthy as can be. And the money associated with that shit… holy crap. We call those agents the hardcorers. They are really something.” She smirks. “Think you could be one?”
I shrug. “I dunno, I’m pretty filthy.”
“There are plenty of shades of filthy.”
I smirk back at her. “I’d say I’d be ticking quite a few naughty list boxes.”
I look at her eyes, so alive. She’s vivacious. Entertaining. Confident. Everything I was before I let Connor drag me down into the shit with him. I want that back. I want myself back, if I even had myself without Connor in the first place. It’s been a long time.
I imagine the list there in front of me, and all of the things I’ve done. All of the things I’ve fantasised about. Everything from BDSM, to sex with another girl once, to outdoor play, to getting it on in public, to fucking a few of Connor’s band friends in front of him when I was younger – and drunk. Connor and I jumped headfirst into everything, and I loved him for it.
Ebony carries on explaining things.
“Clients send you a message through your account profile, telling you what they want, and how much they’re willing to pay for it. You click yes, or no, and if you give it a yes, you arrange a booking on the calendar app. The terms are filed and the contract is logged. The agency takes twenty percent, and you get the rest. The client pays the agency, not you. They never know who you are. Not in real life. And you never tell them. The same goes in reverse.”
“And the agency just sends the cash through? Just like that? It appears in your bank account?”
“Yeah. Just like any other employment agency. We’re in entertainment, professionally speaking. It’s just the operational side that’s a little more, um, underground.”
I almost laugh to myself. I’d be an entertainer. A more successful one than Connor, as it stands. I imagine him there in Camden, with Carly cheering and listening to his ‘heartfelt’ lyrics. Bullshit, self-obsessed, wallowing. I’d rather make a load of cash having someone stretch my pussy with two dildos, than listen to him wail about the woes of emotional politics into a microphone.
“Do you want me to do it, then?” Ebony asks. “Shall I get the agency to contact you? The interview would be on video call, but they’d have their cameras off. It would just be you who’d be visible. They’re great, I promise. You’d get to meet some of the other entertainers as well, if you’re signed up. We have private chat where we talk about things. It’s a good crew.”
There’s no doubt about it… I need that naughty list. I’ll tick every damn box I can tick.
“Yes,” I tell Ebony, with a grateful smile. “As soon as you can, please. I have a plane to catch, after all.”
“On it,” she replies and I see her typing, looking at a window off to the side. She asks for my email address, and wants me to send her some pictures of myself, which I do. I stare dumbfounded as she keeps on typing. I can’t believe this is really happening.
“Done,” she says. “Orla is going to be in touch with you. She’s looking you up now.”
“Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure. I’m sure you’ll get along just fine. I’d best be going. I’ve got to get a cab to Ealing. My client’s already in his hotel room. My husband’s putting our two little terrors to bed tonight while Mummy gets busy.”
“Right,” I say, my smile so bright. “Have fun.”
A wave from Ebony and she’s gone.
I don’t have to wait long. A notification comes up at the side of my screen just a few minutes later. A meeting request with Orla Brown for tomorrow night.
My fucking God, I’m shaking with excitement when I click the accept button.
It’s only later that night when the nerves kick in hardcore, filled with what ifs and a serious amount of stomach churning, but that’s ok. I ease them off by sliding my hand down under the covers, and thinking about the naughty list instead…