Mattress Actress (12 page)

All the stress from Paul had taken its toll, add that to dancing three nights a week, rehearsing four hours a day and four to five eight-hour shifts at the brothel, and I was completely wiped out.

The strain began to show on a Monday night at Felicity’s. From the moment I walked in to work, the receptionist informed me that I already had four regulars waiting in various rooms. As much as I like making money, I was looking forward to a leisurely night of gossip and giggle with the girls. This was obviously not going to happen.

What men pay for and what they received were often two entirely different things. Most men believed they couldn’t have quality sex under an hour, or fantasised back to their youth when they could come three times in a night. They seemed to forget that was twenty years ago, when the body was young and virile. Nonetheless they wanted to believe that their virility and stamina would return.

‘I’d like to stay for the hour, Kate, I’m allowed to come twice in that time, aren’t I?’

‘Sure, you have a shower and I’ll take the money downstairs and come straight back.’

The first five minutes usually consisted of undressing, stroking, relaxing the client by talking, then it was straight into French. If he survived that I’d straddle him. The average man can stand about one and a half minutes of that. If he proved to be a persistent little bugger, doggy style was guaranteed to tip him totally over the edge. If I wanted to quicken him up I just made lots of noise – if he thought you were getting off, his enjoyment was enhanced.

Most often, after minutes they’d say, ‘Oh Kate, you’ve worn me out, darling, I don’t think the little guy’s up for another round. I think I’ll have a shower and go home, I hope you’re not disappointed.’

‘Come on, I’m sure I can change his mind,’ I’d say with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek.

‘No, I better go, I’ll make it up to you next week, I’m obviously just too tired tonight.’

‘Well, OK, if you insist, but you owe me one.’

And that, my friends, is how you do three or four hour customers in one hour and earn around $720 per hour of which you get half.

In dollar value that sounds great, but on this particular evening it was more than my tired little puss could handle. After knocking off the four clients I had waiting, I realised I was in a spot of bother. Something down there was starting to hurt—it felt like a blister was starting to form. I told Louise that I was in pain, and that I didn’t think that I could continue.

‘Show me where it hurts, because if I find out this is just a ruse to get out of work, I will sack you. I hope you’re not thinking that you have made sufficient, so why hang around for the dead of the night.’

‘If I have a blister down there from constant rubbing and if it bursts, my chances of catching something are far greater. Louise, I’m in pain, give me a break.’ At this point I was close to tears.

‘Oh grow some balls, Kate, and suck it up!’ she paused. ‘Fine then, take these tablets, and rub this on it, it’s a numbing cream, then make yourself a coffee and take a ten-minute break.’ I’m sure she thought this was a huge concession.

I did as she said, and fifteen minutes later I felt no relief but my headache had gone. The pain was so intense it even hurt to walk, or cross my legs.

‘Kate, I can’t keep these guys waiting any longer, fix your lipstick and go to room three, then room four. You’ll like these guys, one is a footballer, and the other one is young and handsome,’ Louise said almost compassionately.

I nearly burst into tears upon entering the room. Sitting before me was a giant of a man, at least six foot five. In the other room were two tiny young guys—I later learnt that they were both jockeys. I didn’t have to think twice about who I’d prefer to choose me, the decision was obvious: whoever had the smallest dick. If you don’t want to see a client it’s easy to get out of it, you just start scratching your puss right in front of them. That way they will get the impression that you have crabs and thus won’t select you. But here I was caught between a rock and a hard place: I knew the young boys were going to be hung like donkeys; the smaller the man, the larger the dick and vice versa. On the flip side the footballer looked like he’d be a muff-diver, which I was in no mood for. I decided to go for dick size and was ever so pleasant to the footballer and scratched away in front of the jockeys.

Needless to say, the jockeys found favour in one of the other girls, while I took the footballer to the room. There he told me he wanted to stay for the hour. I was not impressed; I knew this was not going to be a twenty-minute hour. He was about twenty-two years old, from a Polynesian background, which meant only one thing: I was going to be nibbled on for at least thirty minutes. This client was certainly in his sexual prime; this was going to be a marathon.

‘You don’t mind if I inspect you first do you?’

‘No, go for it, I’m as clean as a whistle.’

As he was disrobing I was praying for him to be disproportionate, but even from the other side of the room—and on the slack—I knew I was out of luck. I made my way over to the lamp where he was already standing.

God, please let him have herpes or VD, even a mild dose of warts would do.

As I held it in my hand it began to grow and as hard as I looked I could find nothing suspect. The bloody thing was like a weed, it kept growing in every direction, and must have been at least eight and a half inches long. My hand could barely go around the damn thing. Reluctantly I took the money downstairs and returned to the love machine.

Every touch, every stroke, every minute was agony. I fought tears for the whole hour; I must have given him the longest head job he ever had, just to avoid the rest of my duty.

After kissing him goodbye, which is never more than a quick peck on the cheek, I marched in to Louise.

‘I don’t care if you sack me, I cannot handle another client, I am in agony.’

‘Fine then, but I expect a medical certificate with today’s date on it and if they don’t find anything you will be looking for a new job.’

All I wanted was sleep but now I had to go to the twenty-four-hour clinic to appease this bitch. When the doctor finally saw me he couldn’t believe it. Apparently I had a large blister that had erupted and was now infected.

The following day I was not working or rehearsing so I decided to take my boss Gino up on his offer to give him a call if ever I had a problem. He was receptive to my phone call and agreed to have lunch with me that afternoon. I wanted him to know the tyranny we were all under with Louise’s management.

‘Kate, how nice of you to organise this lunch, I’m just sorry I didn’t get around to it sooner myself. You know, I’m very proud of you, you have been our top earner for the last five weeks in a row.’

I told him that I was enjoying working there, and that I was grateful for the income. I also shared my ambitions and some of my thoughts. Gino was a lovely man, not at all what you would expect from a super wealthy pimp. He arrived for lunch dressed in jeans and a casual shirt. If I didn’t know better it could have been the same outfit I had first met him in. It was refreshing to meet someone who was not consumed by the trappings of wealth. He made me feel comfortable enough to discuss what I really came to talk about. I told him of the verbal abuse, the threats, the intimidation and of course the basic lack of respect at the hands of Louise. To my surprise, he was already aware of it. I thought I would test my bargaining power with him.

‘I don’t know if I can work with Louise any more, I don’t feel safe or protected by her and I certainly can’t work with a giant pus-filled blister on my labia.’

‘Well, that’s a shame, but before you leave, give me two weeks. I’ll see if I can’t talk Louise out of this perpetual PMS, and, don’t worry, I won’t mention that we lunched together. ‘

Feeling somewhat appeased I changed the subject to something less intrusive. I knew holding the position of top earner meant nothing in the big picture. I also got the impression that Gino and Louise had been playing good cop, bad cop for some time and would probably continue to do so long after I made threats of desertion.

But to my surprise, I was wrong and Gino did have a plan in mind. He was in no hurry to lose me!

My threat wasn’t entirely empty—by now I was holding my own with my dancing career. I was getting regular gigs through Gala Records and was appearing in numerous film clips, which paid pretty well. I was constantly invited to attend parties with international acts as well as big Australian bands. But I was starting to sour on the whole industry. Amazingly, there seemed to be more orgies and drugs in the music industry than in the sex industry, which really turned me off. I didn’t touch drugs, I was paid for sex, so why would I give it away just for the privilege of saying that I was in the in crowd. I felt that I already had earnt my right to be there through my talent—providing sex as well was, in my mind, redundant.

There was certainly a different feel in the air when I returned to work. Mind you, no apology was forthcoming upon presentation of my medical certificate. I decided to overlook it and get on with the business of making money. The girls and I gossiped about my lunch with Gino, and many were grateful while others thought I should dig my heels in and prepare myself for the wrath of Louise.

The lovely old grandfather clock struck, letting everyone know if they weren’t ready now, they were in trouble. Louise sauntered in.

‘Ladies I want you all to go do the rounds, except for April and Kate.’

While everyone else made their exit, April and I stood there looking at one another wondering what we had done wrong.

‘You’re both required in the peach spa room. You need to collect $700—his name is Phil. Now get going.’

I handed the $700 to that night’s buzzer lady, with the standard spiel, ‘April and Kate, Peach Spa Room, $700.’ Usually the buzzer lady counted it and confirmed by saying I will buzz you. But this time she said, ‘Confirming $700, April and Kate, Peach Spa.’

I went to the ladies’ lounge to get my condom purse, completely confused. The girls were back from their rounds and Toni piped up as usual.

‘So are we still going to have the pleasure of your company around here from now on?’ She was such a sucker for gossip.

‘Yeah, Louise wanted April and me for a job in the spa room.’

‘Have you ever done a double show before, sweetie?’

‘What do you mean, a double show?’

‘Kate, darling, half your beauty lies in your innocence. It’s a lesbian double show.’ Toni was thoroughly enjoying playing the older and wiser role.

I just stood there struck dumb; I had never thought about sex with other women before and now the higher rate made complete sense. If I was going to experiment I didn’t want it to be like this. The more I thought about it, the more I realised I was not ready or inclined for this job. Toni must have seen my look of distress.

‘Honey, you want to know a little trick, if you’re not comfortable with this job?’

‘Yes please, Toni, but be quick, I’m supposed to be in there now, but I don’t want to be.’

‘Sweetie, they aren’t going to start without you, are they? Now listen, position your client at the back of you, put your arm over April’s thigh, bring your hand under her leg, let your hair flow over her puss and legs.’ I wondered where she was going with this and if she’d misunderstood my concerns. ‘Then suck on your own finger, it sounds like licking, and as long as he is behind you he won’t be any the wiser.’

I gave her a big kiss and rushed off to my job, thinking all the while that snide Louise was not going to get the better of me.

Just as Toni said, poor stupid Phil was indeed none the wiser, he even gave us both a big tip, of the financial variety. April was also grateful to Toni for her pearls of wisdom, so both of us gave her our tips.

I was given the honour of showing Phil to the door and as I turned to go back to the ladies’ lounge, I came face to face with Louise. She was casually leaning against the doorframe, her legs crossed with a definite air of supremacy, her pious smirk the icing on the cake.

‘Welcome to my world, young Kate.’

I glared at her, making her aware I returned her loathing.

Everyone who worked had certain fields of expertise, some girls did B and D, others didn’t. Some girls did Spanish (between the breasts), others didn’t. The same went for fantasies, anal, love slave, two men and of course bisexuality. It was useful to know who did what, because if a client had a particular fetish you could recommend someone. That way the customer wasn’t made to feel that he was perverted: ‘Look I really don’t specialise in that but I have a girlfriend who enjoys it, perhaps I could introduce the two of you?’

Most agencies would actually ask you these questions in your initial interview and girls learnt this information about one another through conversation. I might say to someone, ‘All this guy wanted to do was suck my toes while masturbating.’ Then everyone gave her opinion of that fetish. Even if you weren’t present, girls who knew your likes and dislikes would pipe up on your behalf: ‘Kate had to do a double the other evening, the poor little thing was shaking like a leaf. I don’t think she’s in a hurry to try that again.’ And everyone got to know your preferences. So for Louise to throw me blind into a girl-on-girl double without informing me was cruel and unusual punishment.

Little did I know that that little bit of mattress actressing had scored me an extra $100. Apparently fantasies and fetishes were charged at a different rate—thanks for telling me. In this case the client was charged the hourly rate for each girl and an extra $200 for the threesome fantasy.

At the end of the shift I was called into the office to receive my pay. For some reason both pay ladies employed at Felicity’s were born without a personality: no smile, no small talk, no courtesies, just a glum sternness exuding from every pore.

‘Kate, I’ve been informed that Gino has renegotiated your percentage with you.’

I had no idea what she was talking about, so I automatically assumed the worst, for having complained about my mistreatment.

‘You are now to receive sixty per cent of all business you bring in: after each shift you will be paid fifty per cent of your takings and on the final shift of each week, you will be given your additional ten per cent There are conditions though, young lady. You are to be on time for every shift, if you ever turn up late you forgo your additional ten per cent. You are not to mention this arrangement to the other girls or you lose your bonus payment, understood?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Ok, now you had four times $250 plus two times $200 plus one $250 plus two times $150 plus $100 fantasy booking that’s $2050, minus fifty per cent is $1025 pay for you tonight and $102.50 towards your end of week pay. Now can you send in Lola?’

I was so thrilled with my new bonus, I wanted to kiss Gino right on the lips next time I saw him. Then I wanted to rub my new arrangement and massive pay packet in Louise’s face, and ask her what she earnt that night. Fucking bitch.