Nanny Annie

Chapter 1

I’m sure you’re all wondering how I ended up here. I could tell you all about my high school sweetheart who I was going to marry, who ended up hitting me and belittling me to the point of feeling completely worthless. Or I could tell you that my parents were broke, my mom psychotic and I needed money badly. I mean we could get into detail but that’s really not the fun part. The fun part is how I went from pawning my laptop to pay rent every month and eating frozen dinners in a box, to sitting on a private jet with my red bottoms wrapped around some millionaires’ neck while he ate mine. Of course, no one just decides they want to be an escort and gets on a private jet the next day. For me all it took was finally getting a real job, I started working as a nanny.

I was sitting in my bedroom of my student house thinking of how I was going to pay rent and afford to eat that week. I was tired of pawning my laptop and waiting two weeks until I had the money again to get it back. The system I had going was actually working out quite well. Pawn, pay rent, get paid, buy my laptop back, buy food, pawn and repeat. I did have a part time job making burritos but the money wasn’t great. I was still receiving my student loans periodically because I never called and told the government student loan people that I wasn’t going to school anymore. Had I done that, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to live away from home. I would have had to move home with my mom and dad and quite honestly that situation might have put me in a way worse position then I was about to be in. Truthfully, when I think back, I really don’t know if I would have done anything differently. So, there I was sitting on my bed searching up jobs on my laptop only hours before I had to go downtown to the pawnshop to pawn it. Then the idea hit me. I thought what if I could make the money quicker? What if I could be an escort? Like the high-end ones you see on television. From what I had gathered, the criteria were simple. You just had to be beautiful and willing to go out for dinners and drinks at lavish bars and maybe you’d have to sleep with the guy. I thought to myself that it was like killing two birds with one stone. Not only do I get paid, but I get dinner as well, and perhaps even leftovers for the next day. So, I searched “how to become an escort”. I think your average person really takes their time even pondering this decision, let alone making the decision. Well, actually, the average person probably wouldn’t even consider it. But to understand why I had little apprehension you need to understand that I at the time wasn’t average. I was depressed, alone, made to feel worthless, needing validation, but most importantly, needing money. So, I clicked the link. It read “Premium Models – Models needed.” It was a legit company; they even paid for a photo shoot after you got through the interview process. I looked through the different models they had available. They ranged from $300 for an hour to $500 for two hours and everything in between. One model would get paid $1000 for four hours for providing a girlfriend experience or a GFE for short. I thought to myself how life changing that could be. If I gave one guy a girlfriend experience once a month for $1000, I could have rent money for the rest of the year. So, I dialed the number.

A lady answered the phone. She sounded cheerful and nice. She called me hon and asked me if I had ever escorted before. I told her no and that while I was a little nervous, I was also kind of excited… To make the money, of course. Before we had the interview, we needed to confirm a few things. Firstly, that I was over eighteen. I let her know that I has just turned nineteen three months prior. I also needed to confirm that I didn’t have any STDs, that I had a permanent address and that I didn’t do drugs. I told her that I was living in a student house near the university I had just dropped out of. I told her I smoked a little weed now and then and I told her that I had only slept with two people. Back then I had only been with my ex-boyfriend and the guy I hooked up with to get back at my ex-boyfriend. I said that I definitely didn’t and had never had an STD.

“I think we can make you some really good money hon. Can you meet for an interview in an hour?”. Oh shit, I thought to myself. I stuttered in shock as I responded to her while getting out of my bed.

“Yes, yes I can be ready in an hour.” I remember hanging up the phone as I stepped into the shower.

I quickly rinsed off and got ready as fast as I could. I put on my tightest light blue jeans, a baby pink blouse that hugged my slim waist and fit loose around my chest and arms. I wore my only pair of nude pumps that I had bought for a night out with my girlfriends a year previous. My hair was blonde and loosely curled and my makeup was the way it always is. Subtle. A little foundation, black mascara that curls my eyelashes perfectly and of course a little blush. I got in my red ’97 Honda hatchback and I drove to the address they sent me thinking we’d meet at some bougee hotel lobby bar. I followed the directions and I ended up pulling into the parking lot of a crowded Starbucks.

Sitting at a table in the back corner was the women I was on the phone with and her husband. She was pretty with long red hair, neatly dressed, polished nails and red lipstick. Her husband was skinny, shorter than her and had black hair but with grey beginning to take over. He was wearing Nike high tops and a white Ed Hardy shirt with fake diamonds all over it. He looked worn out but I couldn’t tell if it was because he did drugs or if he always looked that way. After we greeted each other, she began to tell me that she was an escort at my age and that she loved it. I looked around the place anxiously to see if anyone was staring or listening to what we were talking about. They weren’t. She told me she’d done really well; she met her husband and she would only go out on dates when her top clients wanted her. Her and her husband decided to start Platinum Models to help make escorting safer for women. They provided the hotel rooms, the car service to and from the clients’ locations, the photoshoot to get the models on the website, the lube, the condoms and most importantly they booked the models’ appointments with the clients. It seemed like a legitimate business. I remember our interview like it was yesterday.

“We need to know what you’re comfortable with so we can put it on your profile.” She said as she pulled out a piece of paper with a long check list of acronyms and terminology I had never heard of. “Are you okay with BJ’s?”

I knew that one. “Yes” I said.

“BBBJ?” I paused.

“What’s that?” I responded. They laughed at how adorable I was. She smiled at me.

“You’re so innocent, you’re going to get clients crawling back.” She proceeded to tell me the BBBJ meant bare back blow job. I had responded a little shocked.

“No… no, yeah, no I’m not okay with that.” I stuttered. They looked at each other as if they knew no wasn’t really an option.

“Okay moving on. BBFS?” I looked at her and said nothing.

“It means bare back full-service hon, sex with no condom.” She said with a raised eyebrow.

“I would definitely want to use condoms.” I said affirmatively. She ticked the box accordingly.

“BDSM? Slapping, choking, hair pulling and scratching?” I nearly choked as I gulped but I nodded my head yes.

“What about ropes, handcuffs, hot wax, whips, ball gags etcetera?” She asked. I had only ever used handcuffs with my boyfriend before.

“I’m okay handcuffs but that’s it.” I stopped her before she could ask me another question for her checklist so that I could ask her one. Confused, I asked why-if I was providing an escort experience by going out with men for dinner and drinks -would they need to know if I was willing to do all of the things they were asking me. They both laughed at me again when I asked. I laughed with them out of embarrassment and confusion. I remember them saying in order to get to the good guys with the money I had to weed out some of the bad guys who just wanted a quick hook-up. I said nothing back to their response yet the look on my face must have told them a lot because they began to reassure me that a girl like me wouldn’t have to wait very long to get to the good guys. I had nervously put the fingernail of my thumb in my mouth and stared off out the window worried that I was in over my head. I took my thumb out of my mouth and looked away from the students I was staring at outside on the sidewalk. They were sipping grande lemonades and getting into a Mercedes Benz. I took a deep breath.

“Let’s continue.” I said.

“Are you okay with Greek?”

I quickly responded with an affirmative no. They laughed that I didn’t hesitate.

“Okay,” they said. “But our clients love a good Greek girl. How about golden showers?” Back then I had no idea someone would want to have another person pee on them let alone pay for someone to pee on them.

“You mean someone will pay me to do that?” I asked.

“All the time” she laughed. I stuttered as nervously agreed to it.

She had then asked me if I was okay with the term humiliation. I told her I didn’t really know what that meant. She explained that there were clients who wanted to be made fun of.

“Basically, you tell them that their dicks are small, tell them they’re pathetic, tell them they don’t know how to fuck while their dick is inside of you and essentially bully them until they cum. That kind of stuff.” I thought for a moment while they both looked at me waiting for an answer.

“Yes, I guess I’ll do humiliation.” I had said.

More terminology was brought up and what I thought was going to be a brief interview seemingly turned into over an hour-long course of the sex industry lingo and of that what I would or wouldn’t be willing to do. Outcall, in-call, LK, FK, MFM, MFF, MS, OVN, OWO, R&T, COF, CIM, BLS and of course GFE. If you’re really interested in this very moment as to what those terms mean you can search it on the internet. Just know that I don’t need to waste my time telling you right now when I have two more years of my story to disclose. You’re going to find out anyway.

Confident that I would be able to pay rent that month I decided not to pawn my laptop. Jules and Derek, the owners of Platinum Models, had signed me on to be one of their models. The whole thing did seem kind of cool. Like I was pretty enough to make the team and they were willing to take a chance on me because I had potential to sell this whole girl next door vibe. In fact, that’s what they decided my click bait name would be, “The Girl Next Door”. They had arranged a photoshoot for me for the following day. They told me another girl that they had just signed would be at the photoshoot as well. They said it was better to make friends with the girls so we could share experiences and tips. I was supposed to bring some matching sets of bras and panties to the shoot, some high heels and have my hair and makeup already done. I had packed my backpack the following day with my matching sets. I didn’t eat breakfast to make sure I wouldn’t bloat and tried my best to make sure I was looking like what I thought a premium priced platinum model should look like. The address to the studio was about forty minutes from my student house so naturally I worried about the gas money I was using up and I chain smoked the entire way there to calm my nerves. I pulled up to the studio and walked toward the door. There was a gentleman inside. He was in his mid 40’s and he looked like a creep. I walked in and observed all the pictures that were hanging on the walls. Different family portraits, babies in big hats and professional headshots of men and women. On the photographers’ desk was a picture of his family. His wife, a son about 12 years old and daughter who looked to be my age.

“Hi, I’m Annie.” I said to the man with an excited smile, trying to hide the nerves. He looked at me up and down with a raised eyebrow and then proceeded to lick the corner of his upper lip.

“Yes, from Platinum Models.” He said. “Why don’t you get undressed Annie.”

“Are we starting right away?” I gulped.

“The other girl should be here soon, go ahead and take your clothes off.” I looked around the studio nervously for a dressing room.

“Is there somewhere I can change?” I asked.

“I’m about to photograph you half naked. Don’t be shy, you can change right here.” He sat down at his desk, his eyes not leaving my body for a second. I felt like I didn’t have any other choice then to change right where I was standing. I had slowly reached for the bottom of my shirt with both my hands to pull it up over my chest. My skin crawled with goosebumps as my shirt reached the underwire of my bra when suddenly the door opened. I quickly pulled my shirt back down. It was a girl in her mid-twenties. She was extremely skinny and had horrible tattoos of butterflies and stars all over her arms. Her clothes were washed out and the bottom of her jeans were frayed. Her boots looked like they had been worn for years and even though I had chain smoked the entire way to the studio, she wreaked like she had chain smoked her entire life. “Nice to see you again Prick… I mean Rick” she said to the man. I guess his name is Rick I thought to myself. She looked at me and smiled. Her teeth yellow, her makeup cracking around her smile lines and her acne peering through the heavy layer of foundation she had on her face.

“I’m Destiny” she said while putting her yellow fingers out for mine to shake.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Annie” I looked at her with a fake smile trying to hide my detest while shaking her hand.

“Let’s do this shall we?” She said confidently. She proceeded to grab my hand and walked me to the change room. With no hesitation she began to undress in front of me and start conversation. Completely naked, breasts in my face and a landing strip shaven to what I assume was her standard of perfection she began to tell me a little about herself. I proceeded to nervously undress while I listened. Destiny started working for platinum models when she was twenty because her parents kicked her out when she was sixteen. Since then, she’d been living with boyfriends, mostly drug dealers, who were in control of where she went, what she bought and who she could hang out with. She wanted to get out of her abusive relationship and take care of herself instead of being stuck in what she called “the game”. So, she found out about Platinum Models. She couldn’t get a real job because she never finished high school and didn’t have the desire to get her GED because “schools fucking stupid” or whatever ridiculous shit she said. So, Jules and Derek were nice enough to house her in a room at the motel they used for the company until she could start renting on her own. She continued to work for them nearly every day for two years until her “baby daddy” knocked her up. She had her child and it only took a couple of months before baby daddy ran off and Children’s Aid took the baby away. She never did say why they took her child away but from what I saw I would have said crack.

“So now I’m back here again so I can get money and fight for my kid back n stuff.” She told me as she slapped her g-string against her bony hips. She popped a piece of gum in her mouth and then asked me what brought me to Platinum Models. I hesitated. My life was nothing like hers. I was completely normal. I was never kicked out of my parents’ house legitimately, maybe for an hour. I was taking a year off university because I wanted to go to school for something I was passionate about and I was able to pay rent and feed myself without escorting, I just struggled a little. Escorting wasn’t something I wanted to do forever it was just something I thought I needed to do to help me get back on my feet. Instead, I said “I just need some extra money. I don’t want to move home because my mom is really psycho and I don’t get a lot of shifts at my job.”. She chomped on her gum and I could hear the spit in her mouth as she chewed obnoxiously while staring at me with a confused look on her face, probably because she knew I didn’t belong there.

I got in my car after the photoshoot and sat in silence. It was the first time since the phone call with Jules that I had started to grasp just a sliver of the reality of what I was doing. I mean yeah, the interview at Starbucks was nerve racking. Being asked if I was willing to fuck strangers bare back while sipping a caramel macchiato in a public setting wasn’t something I considered normal. But at least I had my clothes on. The photographer was creepy. He stared at me like… Like I was a dirty escort. He assumed I would’ve been willing to get completely naked in front of him without hesitation and I’m sure he had assumed I would suck his dick or even fuck him while he sat at his computer desk chair with his framed family picture placed face down. Destiny said he had fucked almost everyone of Jules’ girls who walked through that door. I’m glad she came in the studio when she did. Jules had told me I couldn’t start working until the pictures were posted on the website. It was a Wednesday evening and my profile would be up and running by Friday. I drove home that day in silence. No radio. No cigarettes. Just thinking about what I had just done… And what I was about to do.