And so it begins: my life as a rub-and-tug receptionist. So could you give me a blow job without a condom instead and let me cum on your face? Needless to say, after living on cent cans of soup and getting rejected from telemarketing jobs, I felt slightly desperate. While he had a good laugh, I sprinted upstairs to make the call. But when I meet him, he seems decent enough for a rub-and-tug owner.
Good enough for me. The first thing I learn during orientation is that not long ago this was an Asian massage parlour, which meant two things: full service and cheap rates.
What about the owner? He only comes in once or twice a week to collect the money from the safe. Other than that, he stays at his other location, where undercover cops sometimes show up. Still, the reality that my place of work is an illegal operation makes me bite my nails and scrutinize every man in a suit who walks in.
Thankfully, my co-workers keep my mind occupied. We talk about their lives and how they ended up here. One of the three rooms is next to the office, and the walls are paper thin. My co-workers constantly remind me that you have to be a freak to do what they do. In the end, I discover that the owner expects all the receptionists to become masseuses. Decent, my ass! Search Now Toronto Close Search. Facebook Twitter Reddit Copy current article link.
When it comes to what goes on in the other two rooms, the women tell me everything. Do any of the others feel that way? Email Required. This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged. Recently Posted News.
