Compulsion

Chapter 3

'Welcome to my mansion!' Alice drawls a bit cheekily, letting me in.

Well, her luxury two-story penthouse with gorgeous, modern style in the heart of London can be called a mansion. It looks like a photo on the front cover of a glossy magazine, like a common girl's dream that will never come true...

I'm afraid to step on the perfectly polished floor and stain it with my dirty shoes, I'm afraid to foul the white leather sofa. It is scary to take a step into the unknown, which can change my life once and forever. She hasn't explained anything, and various thoughts, opinions, assumptions – from the most banal to the most unpredictable – were tumbling in my head.

Alice walks ahead of me into the living room and makes a move towards the home bar, which is located near the panoramic window overlooking the Thames, but stops midway, as if an idea suddenly stuck her. She plumped down next to me on the sofa. Yes, I put my butt there in the end.

'Well, if you really need money, don't forget it for a second,' she says in a surprisingly sober voice. She sounds like a mother giving instructions to her child. And I carefully listen to these instructions. 'You should remember why you are doing it, why you do what you shouldn't do.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Listen to me. The main rule is not to be late and do your best to please your clients. One complaint, and you get popped out of business like a champagne cork. No one else will work with you, and you will be blacklisted.

It's like working in a restaurant – the same rule applies to all employees, but I doubt that my friend wants to hire me as a chef. No, it has nothing to do with a restaurant business. Then...

'If you are against extra services, tell it in advance, but then you'll be paid less.

'Extra services?' I stare blankly at the serious face of the girl opposite me. What is she talking about? What extra services? What black list?

'Butt stuff, blow job, threesome, sex toys, other stuff.'

My slightly intoxicated mind begins to realize what exactly Alice is talking about. What she proposes to do for the sake of Adam. She wants me to do things that are condemned by society. I will never get a chance to justify myself!

My eyes probably pop out of my head at that moment, and I can't say a word, unlike the blondie.

'Don't make a face like that! It's a well-paid job!'

'Do you suggest me to become a whore?' I almost yell at her well-groomed face.

'They call it escort, Lo. Whores are working on the streets, and escort is a different level.'

'What's the difference?'

'Money, duties, services. You can just accompany your client and earn a few pounds, or you can provide various sexual services and make three thousand at a time.'

What? Three thousand? Men are willing to pay for it? Where did they get all this money?

Alice was dealing not with an ordinary man today, and they weren't sharing a family lemon pie recipe in the closet.

Should I do the same? Doing this in a public place? Under the table, like in the books? Or even worse – in front of everyone. My mind immediately goes to imagining that this same client undresses me in front of his friends, who are idly sipping five-hundred-pounds champagne, and then rapes me. And I can't resist. I just stand still, waiting for the nightmare to end.

'How much do you need? Fifteen thousand pounds? You won't earn that much anywhere else so fast,' Alice says. As we went to her place, I told her the amount that Dr. Connor had announced for my brother's surgery and rehabilitation.

My brother's exhausted pale face, bald head, tired sky-colored eyes, his lips whispering that we should stop fighting are flashing before my eyes. He doesn't believe that he will survive.

'You should remember why you are doing it.'

'OK, I am ready. Where shall we start?'

Alice smiles at me for a while, then turns serious again.

'First, we have to make your portfolio. Take off your clothes.'

'What?' A sharp turn of events bewilders me. 'I'm not going to do it!'

'Really? What will you say when a client asks you to show your boobies?'

Damn it! I didn't even think about it. How shall I behave with men? How shall I treat them? What shall I say? Do I need to talk at all or will I be immediately pinned to the bed and...

I should better not to think about it.

'Come on, I'll lend you some clothes.'

The clothes were not meant to be a cocktail dress or a suit, but lacy lingerie. Corsets, bras, tanga panties and stockings attached to the belt. The lingerie looks gorgeous and expensive. Alice said that she had never put it on. I hope so.

Honestly, this is the worst photo shoot in my life. Many girls dream that they would be groomed, beautifully dressed and shot from the most advantageous angle. I dreamed about it too. But it is far from what I expected. I'm demonstrating my butt in tiny panties in front of the iPhone camera!

'Turn around. Hold your boobs with your hands,' Alice orders. 'Geez, Lo, don't be shy, you have great boobs!'

Easier said than done. I could hardly take off my bra with trembling hands and freeze, weak and vulnerable, in front of my former enemy, and she asks me not to be shy! It's a bit odd! Thank God, the photo shoot is finally over, and I can finally breathe out. I guess so.

'Hey girl, you have great boobies! Men adore it. And your bottom looks great too,' Alice admires, looking through the photos on her MacBook.

Those pictures where my face is visible were immediately sent to the recycle bin, the others were filtered, corrected, and then uploaded to the escort website. There are thousands of applications, thousands of profiles and thousands of telephone numbers of escort agents.

'Don't pay attention to these crooks,' explains Alice, when I point at a profile of an agent. 'They take half of your money and don't do a damn thing. Scammers! We can handle it ourselves.'

'Fine.'

'Done.'

The status of my application has changed. I have officially become an expensive prostitute named Donatella. Like Versace.

'The first step is done. Now we'll wait for the call. Are you sure no one of your acquaintances knows this number?'

'Yeah.'

OK, let's wait then. I still don't realize what I agreed to, and I can't quite grasp the idea that soon I will have to meet men and fulfill every their whims. We wrote a lot of information in my profile, offered a lot of services, although I was against it. I don't know if I can do it.

But I have to. For Adam's sake.

'Look, you have a first client!' the blondie rejoices and opens the message.

Jared King: 'You are very beautiful, Donatella. Let me brighten up your evening.'

My crazy new life has started. There's no going back. I will either regain a happy family life my brother, or go into the burial pit with him.

I take the girl's computer and text the fatal answer:

I: 'When?'

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Please, comment on the novel if you enjoy it! Thank you in advance! ;) Your Caroline Day :)