I have always considered myself frugal and not much of an obsessive label whore. In fact, I think its attributable to the fact that I had never even been able to afford any luxury good to know how it feels like to begin with. However, it was a constant struggle deep down inside whenever I hung out with the girls as they had no financial woes, and only wined and dined at the finest restaurants. Its always nice to have your meals paid for, but somehow the idea of "free loader" was jabbing sharply at my conscience and pride.
The four of us chatted over tea at TCC once, and being lost in their swanky conversation of Prada, LV and Gucci, it gave me time to do my observatory work. Lisa looked really attractive clad in a daffodil yellow floral dress from BEBE. She was arguing with Cary about which monogram LV bag was the hottest from the last season. And I knew Lisa was the kind of girl who spoke her mind. No inhibitions and no hidden agendas. A good friend.
I remember that night with Ivan, Lisa woke up and was disappointed to find that Ivan disappeared without a trace. I asked if they had sex, and she nodded her head. I felt a slight lurch in my heart, although I knew that answer right from the start. After telling her what actually happened, Lisa was angry that Ivan was such an asshole, but brushed it off with "At least he gave great sex." and we all laughed it off.
I shifted my gaze to MiMi, who was dressed in tight leather pants, an Ed Hardy tank top and stilettos from Guess. Her androgynous attire paid perfect tribute to her hairstyle and cold stare. Her left leg was curled suggestively over my right foot as we sat at the circular table. She never stopped texting me after our rendezvous that night. Somehow, it became a silent pact that our attraction for each other was to be kept under wraps, and purely just for pleasure purposes.
MiMi was listening intently to the conversation, her elbow propped on the table and hand supporting her chin. She was an attentive listener, making comments only when necessary. Her balance of femininity crossed with masculinity intrigued me as it was wildly exotic. Her face hardly betrays her emotions, or if she was even capable of any. I never stopped feeling that she had plenty of lewd thoughts swimming in her mind whenever our eyes met. And it was incredibly sexy.
I told MiMi about the rape. And I had no idea why I did. But somehow I felt that I had to. I needed to ask someone why do I still crave sex even after such a nasty thing happened to me. Am I considered a slut? Did I secretly enjoy the rape? Or was it the rape that changed me to become a tainted soul with impure thoughts? MiMi listened quietly as I let her in onto my urges, the strange vibe inside me and my addiction to giving and receiving pleasure.
That was when I finally knew why I felt that way. MiMi explained that I am probably, a nymphomaniac. Its a term to describe females who possess an extremely strong desire for sex. Its like as though I am always on aphrodisiac. And she said being a nympho does not equate to slut as nymphos are proud of themselves just as any man, would be pleased to ever meet and own one.
And, I accepted that term. She elaborated on how I felt disgusted by the rape because it was something against my will, not to mention, the aesthetically unpleasant men that were at it. However, it would be wrong if that terrible incident placed a barricade over my mentality as I deserved every right to feel the right kind of pleasure again.
Having matured over the months, I was starting to embrace the strange vibe. I just had to learn how to play my cards right. So, after the heart to heart talk with MiMi, I was relieved upon knowing the scar from the rape was finally healed and sealed away at the furthest end of my memories.
Lastly, I looked at Cary who was seated on my left. Her white chiffon dress from Ted Baker was flowy and princess-like. Her manicured nails were wrapped around her tea cup as she rambled on with Lisa, their senseless argument was nothing short of entertainment for MiMi and I. After all the months that I spent with Cary, it dawned onto me that she had many layers, and a lot more which I have yet to uncover.
Cary had taught me many lessons of life, all of which I had humbly etched into my brain. And she made me who I became. I looked at my reflection on my phone, egg shaped face with soft and full lips and... large almond eyes complemented by discernible double eyelids. I no longer needed the tape. My cheeks glowed from the mild bronzer as my hair fell perfectly, swept on to rest upon my left shoulder.
I owe her more than I can ever repay. And I knew she was aware of that.
Lisa finally snapped out of the argument, digressing to my job hunt. "I have a job in mind, I think it suits you perfectly because there's much booze included. But it may be sleazy..." She bit her lip as MiMi shot her a death glare.
"Does it pay well?" was all I said, knowing beggars can't be choosers.
"Yes. Very... if you know how to. China women are really good at it." Lisa rised her eyebrows playfully at Cary, sticking out her tongue, much to Cary's ruffled expression.
"What is that??? Sounds really... err.. " I stopped my sentence, knowing it was a landmine waiting to explode as Cary's face was flushed from the personal attack on her country.
"Its working at a KTV as hostess. The sleazy ones pay really well if you are popular and .. open-minded." MiMi resolved the tension with her chilly voice.
The image of a large orgy within the interiors of a KTV room popped up into my mind. I gulped. Surely it can't be that bad. I snapped out of that scene and returned to reality with 3 pairs of eyes staring at me.
"I'll do it." was my reply.
~
Two weeks later, it was a Friday night. Cary helped me with my make up whilst Lisa chose a suitable outfit for me; A really short Alexander Mcqueen dress with fitted bodice and lace inserts, paired with glossy black strappy stilettos from Jimmy Choo. It was time for my interview with the KTV hostess, often addressed as "Mummy". She takes care of the girls in a pimp sort of way, and does the arrangement of assigning the girls to suit the clients' preferred choice.
I remember the pompous doors painted gold with two dragons circling the glitzy signboard bearing the KTV's name, "Imperial". The waitresses wore traditional qipaos with high slits, their bare thighs sculpted and smooth, elongated by their high heels. They conversed mainly in fluent Chinese and exaggeratedly sweet coy tones, proving that Lisa's remark about PRCs working at the KTV to be, really accurate.
Lisa took my hand as we stepped through the door, navigating through the posse of servers, waitresses and managers, our heels making no noise against the rich carpeted floor. Music resonated from the walls, merged with men's laughter and bass so loud, the vibrations sent tremors down the corridors.
We stopped in front of a "Staff only" door, a single chestnut door with creaky hinges as a woman opened it to welcome us. She was tiny, her long straight hair perfectly brushed to a shine. Unlike the waitresses and their inch thick makeup, the woman wore only a red lipstick and smudged eyeliner. Her eyebrows were tweezed so fine they were just two curved lines running across the small width of her forehead.
She had a mole on her cheek, 2 inches from her thin lips. Neither pleasant nor friendly was the word to describe her, but she had a vibe that was really stern but motherly. The woman broke into a smile upon seeing Lisa, and gestured gaily for us to step in.
My intuition was right, she was the "Mummy", and her name was Jenny, but I was to call her Mummy, if I get employed. She seated us on plastic stools, right in the midst of the messy staff room. A large mirror hung on the wall, with bright lights to illuminate the otherwise dark interior. Make up brushes and lotions were littered across the dressing table as Jenny shoved some away to make space for two tea cups. She poured tea from a thermal flask, whisked out from nowhere as Lisa and I sipped obediently.
Finally, Jenny took a long look at me and said "You are very pretty. Good." She motioned for me to stand up as she twirled me around, her hands felt cold and clammy as she touched my legs, before smacking my ass. "Very perky butt eh. Men like. But, not much breasts? Chinese and Japanese clients will not like you as much then. Have to push."
Jenny cupped my breasts and squeezed them together. Lisa grinned at me and mouthed "TIME FOR SHOPPING" as I rolled my eyes at her. Jenny then disappeared into the clutter of the room as I heard the opening of a cupboard. She came back with an employment contract.
"Now, the basic salary is 12$ an hour for probation, then $15 after 3 months. Your basic is higher than most other waitresses because you are local. Every room that you go to will guarantee a red packet of minimum, 50$. You get commission from liquor sales too. However, the sales will be shared with the other girls in the room as well. Tips from customers are for your own keepsake. We are open every day except for Tuesday. You are required to work a minimum of 3 days a week. Understand?" Jenny spoke in hokkien accented English.
Lisa then placed her empty tea cup onto the dressing table and said "Jen, don't forget to instruct her on the... special services."
Jenny nodded and straight right into my eyes as I tried not to look fazed. "Here, our girls provide special services to our customers, such as touching, kissing and blow jobs. It is taboo to negotiate the price as we are a licensed KTV, so these have to occur under "willing and normal circumstances" the money will be placed into your red packet before the client leaves, so be sure to check that it is the right amount. touching and kissing are usually 20-30$, and sucking is of course higher, 50-80$ depends on how much he likes you."
She spoke really normally despite the crudeness of the sentences and to which I merely nodded to show that I understood. Jenny handed me a signo ball point pen and the contract. As I sieved through the wordy Terms and Conditions, she added "If the customer asks for sex, it is to your own discretion to discuss with him if he takes you out of the KTV, but only leave when your shift ends, which is 3am. I will not be responsible if anything happens. However, it is not compulsory and you can reject them."
I nodded again, as I fought to suppress images of fat old men trying to wrestle their dicks up into me. I signed and handed Jenny the papers. "Here you go, mummy." I ended the sentence with a smile. Jenny patted my shoulder affectionately and said "You are a fast learner. See you next wednesday!" as she waved goodbye.
Lisa and I exited the door and went out of the building to meet up with Cary and MiMi, who reached a few minutes back by taxi. They were both dressed really well and I shot a suspicious look. Cary rushed forward to embrace me before quipping "We are heading to Zouk for a celebration!"
I groaned as I had work the next day, which was the 2nd last day of my waitressing over at the restaurant. Oblivious to my protests, Lisa and Cary shoved me into the awaiting taxi and in 15minutes, we were right at the entrance of Zouk.
The two of them chatted furiously whilst MiMi hooked my arm and we strolled leisurely behind. Then, she nudged me with her arm as we scaled the stairs up to the bar. "Look to your right." She whispered.
It was Ivan, in the familiar jacket and same affable yet sexy expression on his face. He was leaning against the wall to the toilet and to which I assumed, he was waiting for a girl. Some new prey I supposed. Not wanting to alert Lisa for fear of what antics she may come up with, MiMi and I stood at a strategic spot behind an adjacent pillar for a better view. Lisa and Cary went ahead to queue at the bar to place their orders, the high influx of people served as good blockage between Lisa and Ivan.
I was right. A girl dressed in a scanty attire of black hot pants and a cropped lace top showing an unhampered view of her black bra stepped out from the corner of the toilet and locked arms with Ivan. And they walked, towards us. My heart started pounding so loud it could almost deafen the drowning house music. MiMi spoke quickly "What are you going to do? He will see you for sure!"
I gulped before attempting to unlock the strange vibe in me.
Ivan rounded the pillar, and before I knew it, he was right in front of me. He stopped in his tracks and let go of the girl's hand. I stood staunchly at my position and stared ferally in a bid to dampen his beguiling gaze. The girl's eyes ping-ponged between Ivan and I as though trying to comprehend the intensity of the situation.
And to which, all I said was "Hi, I see you have yourself a nice prey there. Have fun." I patted his chest and winked, before grabbing MiMi's arm and strode past the pair, before disappearing into the queue to look for Cary and Lisa.
Lisa punched the air in anger as we related the incident to her over our jug of bourbon coke. Cary gave her a hug to calm her down before indicting she had to go to the restroom to answer Kevin's call. It had been 6 months and they were still dating. Maybe I was wrong about him.
Not long after our third jug, we set off to the dance floor and created quite a storm. Guys were dancing us up and we bumped into Ivan again. Lisa looked at him with disgust as he ground his hips against the same girl we met outside the toilet. She turned away and allowed herself to be wedged between two overly horny men whilst Cary danced with MiMi. I felt Ivan's eyes on me as I pretended to be immune to his attempts to catch my attention.
I proceeded to touch the cheek of the guy in front of me, before dipping low and gliding against him like a cat in heat. I then turned to face Ivan, with the guy's arms wrapped hungrily across my midriff. I relished the jealousy strewn across that pretty face as he tried to ignore the scene by fondling the girl's body.
My hand reached out for Ivan's face as I pulled his ear close to my lips, "Do you like things that are harder to get?... because... me too." I licked the lobe of his ear before pushing him away. I kissed the guy who held me on the cheek before waving goodbye. I no longer had use for him as I walked back to the girls, leaving the two guys confused as hell. I could have sworn I saw Ivan's ego deflating.
That was the last time I saw him. And that typical game of hearts that he played could not precede subduing me, although it left me gasping for air; I had finally mastered to never submit to that, and that's when I could safely say, when a playboy meets a playgirl, I can change the stereotype by claiming my rightful victory in that match.
lesson 9: humans will never cherish nor fully appreciate anything that they can get within reach.
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