Job Satisfaction

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I love my job.

I know I’m not supposed to: it’s illegal, immoral, and demeaning.

And stereotypical. Could there be anything more stereotypical than an Asian woman working in a resort hotel’s Day Spa (rub-and-tug massage place) owned by a mob boss?

But you know what? I don’t care. After my husband split, I was left with my daughter to take care of, and my legitimate job out of college (junior bookkeeper for the hotel) didn’t pay enough to cover all the bills.

I knew what was going on there, and that with tips most of the girls working the Spa made quite a bit more than I did. Everyone knew I was short of cash. So it wasn’t a total shock when Mr. Arrabito asked if I would like to work some shifts.

It wasn’t like I was innocent. Honestly, I’d been a slut! I’d stripped to pay for college, slept around a lot, and chosen my boyfriends based on their generosity. Maybe it wasn’t hooking but it was awfully close.

But I’d really done my best to sivas escort go straight after college, and to be a good wife and mother.

Now my ex had run off to greener pastures with most of our savings, and my white-collar job barely paid the bills. I was living month-to-month on expenses, and I’d just been told that Li needed braces. Plus I hadn’t got any since my ex left, and I was feeling horny.

So I tried it. I spent a couple of weeks training with more experienced girls in the mornings and doing my regular job in the afternoon, then I worked my first shift.

I felt a little silly wearing just that little Happi Coat robe that never stayed on long anyway, and putting on a Chinese accent thicker than my grandmother’s, but if the customers wanted a little FOB sexpot that’s what they’d get. Most of the other girls did the same. I had been a little surprised to find that most of them were US citizens, just like me, and çorum escort they were all here legally. It did make me feel safer; we might be sex workers, but we didn’t need to worry about becoming human trafficking statistics.

But I wasn’t surprised at all when Mr. Arrabito was my first customer. I’d always known he was interested in me. I thought he was cute, too, but I’d also known that I’d never be more than his piece on the side. Now he could try me out. And he did. He was gentle, he tipped well, and it was the best sex I’d had in a long time.

Pretty soon, I had a regular routine. He let me keep my bookkeeper job as a cover, and I actually worked at it for a few hours most mornings. I juggled my shifts in the spa so I was home when Li needed me, but I still made a lot more money. Our money troubles went away; I had savings, and Li’s college fund was doing well. And I was getting regular sex again.

I did my best to denizli escort be a good mother. I was so proud of Li! She’d graduated high school at the top of her class and had a partial scholarship to the local university. And she’d listened to my lectures about finding a good job she loved – she was majoring in biology, not English Lit like I had. Responsible, too; even though I could cover everything that her college fund and scholarship didn’t, she was looking for a part-time job to cover the rest.

So life was good. I knew I couldn’t be a massage girl forever, but I kept myself in good shape; I could probably do it another 10 years or so, get Li through college and maybe graduate school before I switched back to doing bookkeeping full time. And with my nest egg, and the twenty years work experience I’d built up on the side job, I’d be OK. I’d miss the frequent sex, but I had some fuck buddies I could see more often.

But for now, I still enjoyed doing my job. I was good at it, good enough that I was asked to train most of the new girls.

So it wasn’t unexpected when Mr Arrobito told me “Mei, we’ve got a new girl we want you to get up to speed. She’ll need training, but I think she’ll do really well here.”

I’m sure she would.

“Hi, Mom!” Li said.

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