Chapter 3

Chapter Three

I’ma blizzard of action with my supermarket duties right through the day, high with excitement and nerves. The thoughts keep coming. Fantasies, questions, fears, all tumbling together…

The possibility of being a sex entertainer still feels alien, but wildly thrilling. I always thought I’d be cheering Connor on from the sidelines, and sharing sexual kinks with him for the rest of my life, not fucking paying customers and fulfilling theirs.

I wave goodbye to my colleagues at the end of my shift, and I’m on the tube as fast as I can. I need time to get ready. There is no way I’m going to be taking a video interview with Orla in my work uniform with my hair tied up in a scrunchie. As soon as I’m through the door, I dash upstairs to my room and grab my towel. Luckily, the bathroom is empty. As usual the bath mat is a soggy mess and there are bottles strewn everywhere, but I don’t give a shit tonight. I’m straight under the shower, lathering my hair, and shaving myself, every stroke filled with concentration.

Teeth done, hairdryer out, then a spritz of hair protector before I use my straighteners.

What shall I wear? This isn’t exactly a regular interview.

Fishnet holdups, yes. One of my finest black satin bodices, which laces at the front, showing my cleavage off like a dream. A little tutu skirt, which barely covers my ass. So, jewellery… a collar, yes. Spikes? I look at my collection, and opt for the mid length. Not too hardcore, but enough to get attention. Then on to makeup. I move my laptop from my dressing table and set myself down, arranging my supplies neatly. I’m going to use a lot of them.

My contouring works well, and my cat flicks are extreme. I opt for decent length lashes and make sure my mascara shows them at their best. Lipstick… classic red, or deeper purple? Red. A staple.

I’m ready to go twenty minutes before my interview time. My hair comes down to my cleavage when it’s straightened, but brushes away easily to give a decent view. I check myself out on webcam from a host of different angles and make sure I’m well positioned, my laptop ready on my dressing table, all set for the interview as I perch on my stool.

My foot taps, waiting for the meeting. I try the link, to make sure it’s ready for when I need it, but it doesn’t work. It just goes to a page not recognised, and I shit myself. What the fuck?! But then I remember the instruction in the invitation.

Browser must be in incognito mode.

I change the settings, making sure my breaths are as steady as they can be, but my heart is pounding, I’m so on edge.

I need to pass this interview and be accepted. I need to be an entertainer. I need to catch a plane and hug Mum and Dad so bad.

I jump as the notification pops up onscreen. Meeting ready. I click the link with a smile on my face, and it’s not one blank camera window that greets me, it’s three. There are three people on this call along with me. There are no names showing, just letters.

O – which I guess is Orla. T and S. All cameras off, but sound on.

“Hey,” I say. “Nice to meet you.”

It’s O that speaks first, and I’m right. It’s Orla. She introduces herself, and I’m relieved when her voice is warm and upbeat.

“Hi, Ella, great to meet you, too. We’ve heard from Ebony that you’d like to join our agency.”

I nod. “I’d love to join your agency.”

“Has she told you much about it?”

“A little.” I laugh, just a touch. “She’s told me about the naughty list. It sounds intriguing.”

“Oh, it really is.” She laughs back. “And it’s quite a long one. Our clients are very diverse.”

“I’d love to find out. I’ll tick a lot of boxes, I promise.”

I’m trying to sound so confident. So assured. I really need this.

“Glad to hear that you’re open minded, but you always start at the beginning, if you’re a newbie.”

Another voice sounds out. T. He’s a guy with a deep voice. He sounds hot, even though his chat window is blank.

“I’m Troy. I oversee the naughty list, as people like to call it. It’s imperative to us that our entertainers only commit to what they are comfortable with. We don’t want people in uncomfortable situations, neither entertainers or clients. We pride ourselves on our service.”

“I understand. Sure.” I pause. “I’m pretty open minded, though. Don’t worry about that.”

Orla’s voice sounds out.

“Open minded, or experienced?”

I don’t hesitate. “Experienced. I enjoy a lot of different things.”

A new voice speaks. S. Stuart. “Please tell us about some of them.”

Where to start? I go for the basics, listing them off on my fingers. “Oral, anal, bondage, full on ass play, I love rimming. I like BDSM, pretty hardcore. Mainly receiving, but I’m happy to give someone a decent slap, too.” I pause. “Shall I carry on?”

“Yes, please do.”

I wonder if they have the naughty list right there in front of them.

“Umm… degradation and praise. I love being told I’m both good and bad. I like the thrill of being naughty in public. I’ve done threesomes, and a foursome once, and I’ve got it on with another girl. I loved that.”

“Anything else?”

Stuart is digging for more, so I don’t hold back.

“Double penetration, mostly with toys. My ex liked stretching me. Fisting…” I laugh. “Or trying to. I do a lot of pelvic floor to compensate, but he never actually managed it.”

“Excellent. And you’ve had practical experience with all of these things? You’re telling the truth?”

“Yes. I’m telling the truth. I’ve always been very adventurous.”

I don’t mention that it’s always been at the side of just one guy…

Orla speaks next.

“Have you ever offered sexual services before?”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Are you particular in your requirements for your clients? We aren’t a dating service. We have quite a variety of members on our books.”

I’ve thought about this already, and weirdly, I’d prefer people I’m not going to fall head over heels for on first sight. I don’t want to fall in love.

“No. I don’t. I really don’t care.”

“Would you be happy to offer services to older clients? We generally offer browse facilities up to a maximum of a thirty-year age gap. You’re twenty-four, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Would you be happy with a client selection up to fifty-four years old? Of course, you are always welcome to decline the proposals, but we don’t want to waste anyone’s time.”

I wonder what that would be like, being with an older guy. I shrug. “Sure. I’m happy with that.” I imagine a fifty-four-year-old silver fox fucking my ass and demanding I call him Daddy. It actually turns me on. I shuffle on my stool. Weird. It’s not one of my usual fantasies.

“Excellent,” Orla says.

I take a breath. It feels like I’m doing OK.

They ask me a few more questions regarding health issues, allergies and stuff before laying down the rules of client confidentially. They tell me how all of their clients are vetted, and how there is a rating and review section they use after their proposals are completed. This is important, as scores are used to influence the browsing position of entertainer profiles. I nod with enthusiasm and tell them I hope I’ll top the charts with my service. I share some of my experiences in detail, and some of my fantasies, and I look straight at the screen, honest in my answers. I only hope I’ll pass the interview.

“You’re a beautiful girl,” Stuart says. “We’d love to have you onboard, but we’re going to have to put you through a final assessment stage first.”

“An assessment stage?”

“Yes. We need to know you are truly comfortable and confident before we assign you a profile. We’ll also need ID and personal information from you, to set you up on our agency accounts.”

“Of course.” I smile. “What do need me to do as an assessment?”

Troy speaks at this point. I love his voice.

“Do whatever you’re instructed, please. From this point onwards. If you are uncomfortable at any stage, please be honest and tell us so.”

“No problem.”

My heart is thumping.

“Undo your bodice now. Show us your tits.”

I didn’t see that coming. And his tone is so demanding, it gives me flutters. Shit. I pull the ribbon free without hesitation, baring my tits for the camera. I display them instinctively, tugging at my nipples, trying to show them how good I can be. O, T and S are silent for a while, and I keep on going, mashing my tits together, and tipping my head back.

“Good,” Troy says at that. “Suck on your fingers. Make it horny.”

I start with two. Gentle sucks and moans. I feel so ridiculously on display in front of three strangers, but it’s ok. I can do it. I pretend three of my fingers are a cock and show them how I give blowjobs. Connor always said I was great at that.

“Keep going…” Troy says, and I can tell he wants more.

Ok. Let’s do it.

I go all in, four fingers straight in my mouth, right to the back, sucking like crazy and moaning as I use my tongue.

“Keep going,” he says again, and I’m squirming, horny and nervous, both at once.

DO IT! I tell myself. Show them how good you are!

With that I let myself go. I finger fuck my own throat until I retch, showing them what I’m capable of. My spit is dribbling and dripping onto my tits, but I don’t care, trying my absolute best to be a porn star – I only hope they’re impressed.

“Can you move your laptop to your bed, please?” Troy says next.

I look to the side of me, reach over and chuck my work clothes on the floor, out of sight.

“Sure.”

I position the laptop between my legs and sit myself down on the covers, angling the screen back up at me. I know things are about to get a lot more serious. My nerves are jangling.

“Do you have any toys?”

“Yes. Plenty.”

“Get one, please.”

I pull open my beside drawer and take out a decent sized dildo.

“Good. Now, lie back for us and hitch your legs up wide.”

I do as I’m told, breaths shallow. I’m horny on instinct, even though I’m absolutely crapping myself.

Orla’s voice comes in. “Now, it’s up to you, Ella. Give us a taste of what you are comfortable with. What you’re capable of.”

Troy talks next, clearly testing me. “Cunt and ass, please. We want to see you use both.”

I nod before I lie back for them, propped up on my elbows so they can still see my face onscreen, my tits still bare, nipples still hard. I start slowly, teasing my pussy with my fingers at first, through my sopping panties.

“I’m really wet,” I tell them, the horniness taking over me.

“Show us,” Troy says.

I slip off my panties then work my bare, wet slit, spreading myself so they can see me glistening. Then I moan as I slip two fingers inside myself, curling just right. Fuck, yes. It feels good. Two fingers turn to three, and I push them inside, circling then fucking myself slowly… slow but deep, over and over. I hitch myself higher, so they can see my ass as well as my pussy, and then – when my fingers are slicked up nicely – I move their position, teasing the first one over my asshole. I clench first. Tight and on purpose. I fight against the way I push it inside, and it’s fucking bliss. I moan like a bitch in heat, I can’t help myself.

There’s no doubt about it now. Nerves be damned. I can do this.

I work myself up to taking all three fingers in my asshole, so they know I can handle it, spreading my pussy with the other hand so they can see how swollen my clit is… and how desperate I am for more.

I’m going to give them a show they’ll remember.

I don’t use lube on the thick dildo, just rub it up and down my slit, my ass still clenched around three fingers. Fuck. It’s going to hurt, no matter how wet I am, but I don’t care. I think of how many times I’ve taken this with Connor. I couldn’t give a shit how hard I have to push to get it in my pussy while keeping my fingers in my ass. It’s usually Connor using the dildo, or his cock inside me, but I can do it on my own. I know I can.

My moans and protests come hard and loud, but I don’t stop. I won’t stop. I force the thick toy in my pussy for the people onscreen, panting as I look right at the camera, and then I fuck myself, knowing they’ll hear me squelch as well as moan. I’ll impress them, and I’ll make it real.

I close my eyes and work myself like I need to. I forget they are watching as best I can and focus on myself.

It doesn’t take me all that long to come. I’m filled and stretched, and the head of the dildo is rubbing right against my G-spot as it slams back and forth, so I can’t help myself. Faster and faster, deep and rough, and I’m crying out, genuine and real, lolling my head back as I peak for them.

I let out a coy little laugh as I pull the toy and my fingers free, still catching my breath as I smile for them in the aftermath.

They wait until I’ve come down from my high before Troy’s voice cuts back in.

“Fantastic show,” he says. “Very talented.”

“Thank you.”

I’m waiting for the verdict. Petrified at the silence. I know they are talking about me on mute.

Please. Please. Please.

Orla clears her throat before she speaks, and my pulse is going crazy.

“You’re hired,” she says, and I’m so happy I could skip around my bedroom as she sets up my account and talks me through the final practicalities. Fuck! Yes! I’m an entertainer now!

I’ll owe Ebony one for the rest of my whole damn life.