Coral Hull: Prose: Work The Sex: The massage parlours where the girls sat in spas with their ...

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: WORK THE SEX
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The massage parlours where the girls sat in spas with their clients and provided 'hand relief' were legal, just so long as the women kept their two feet on the floor. They were 'would-be-if-they-could-be' prostitutes or 'wannabes'. Yet it wasn't that, either, I thought. It was all about power and money. Because everything they had talked about occurred down at the local pub every weekend, including drunken brawls, unsafe sex, lies and deceit, and the spreading of all the diseases under the sun and moon, with a few different blokes every weekend, and that was all okay as far as the justice system was concerned. It was okay because often the women were vulnerable and got a broken heart for their trouble. But put the sex in a safe and sober environment and allow the women to get paid and that was illegal. This was because the fearful woman and body-hating society was outraged that women could in fact have the power to give and withdraw sex and at a financial cost to men. This is the place outside the bedroom where the female sex has its moments of power and those in power already didn't like that.

Jackie speaks: You're tellin' me. And where were they if the industry was legalised? Where else, sweetheart? If they weren't there already, they'd all be down in the local whorehouses with the pros, just like all the other men, cheating on their wives. They're no different. Then after they'd ejaculated, they'd arrest a few hookers and pimps for job promotions and government revenue. It's all a dirty little game. They may be dopes but they're not stupid. Women are stupid. 'Women still haven't got equal wages. Legalise this in every state and country and then we'd have a real practical form of feminism finally taking root in the world. It's the oldest profession in the world,' Roxanne said drying his back with a fluffy white towel, 'they'll never stop it!' It's the oldest power in the world and women are the oldest criminals. At least this way, we get something out of it!

I don't even bother talking to them 'cause they all say the same thing. Do you like this work? Why do you do it? How long you been in it? What's your other job, then? How many nights do you work? Been busy tonight? Can I come as many times as I like? Can I come twice in half hour? I dunno, can ya? Or insert fingers? Can I insert them and scratch you inside? Do you do anal? Can I rim your anus with my tongue? It's really good. Trust me, you'll love it. Treat yourself! Do you do golden showers? Do ya kiss? Can I come on ya face? Any chance of oral without a condom? Do you like fucking? We're both clean.

He wanted to know if she was new to the game, so that he could play up in the room. He wanted to pressure her for all those little extras the desperate girls did, in order to put the whole industry on a downward slide. 'This was his only chance at reclaiming power from a woman with a man's heart,' said Roxanne. Since a sex worker had given it to him before, he now tried to tongue kiss, smack arse, tweak and bite nipples too hard, touch around the anus, ask for anal sex or Greek, or French to come on tits without a condom. Then he asked for unsafe oral, then complained at the end of it for her 'bad service', after she threatened to give him a knuckle sandwich. He wanted her to groan loudly during his premature ejaculation, and to fake it like his wife did. I want you to come on demand, and I want to go down on you without a dam with my rotten mouth, dirty whiskers, putrid tongue, coated teeth and mouth like a dead sheep. Some of them act like spoilt brats.

If you live up to my expectations and do exactly what I tell you to, I'll book you again. Otherwise, you might be fortunate enough to get pushed into a spa fully clothed, or told that your face is okay, but that your body is the fattest, ugliest body he's ever seen, by a drunken Japanese businessman, who had to be made to shower twice, and with soap this time, to get the skunk smell off his scrotum. At least the skunks had a reason for what they did. His was entirely by accident. Then again, you just might be verbally abused and splashed in the face with champagne by a cocaine-snorting loser whose ex-fiancée was a hooker. This is why he enjoyed coming into the place completely pissed, in order to abuse the down- to-earth girls for up to three or four hours, all courtesy of Master Card or ATM.

    

This website is part of my personal testimony that has been guided by The Holy Spirit and written in Jesus' name.

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