1. A New Clientele


    Date: 10/31/2018, Categories: Lesbian, Author: spuddick, Source: LushStories

    Word gets around in my profession. It's what my business model is based on. It's what all massage parlor's base their business on. The fact that I fuck five out of every ten men who come into my shop has changed what I do, changed who comes in. The news that I offer a special package to some of my customers has attracted more business than I have ever seen and scared away some of my old regulars. I'm a good masseuse. I am. But that isn't what brings my customers in anymore and it was never going to make me much money. Most masseuses work as part of an agency, with at least three others, but my operation is small: just me. I have to work to keep the doors open. Now, the men know that, if I like them (and I often like them) I will say those six words to them, the words their friends all tell them about. "Would you like the special package?" It's an offer that has not been refused once since I instituted it. After I fucked my first client I swore that it would never come to this. But when I fucked my third and my fourth, I realized that it would always come to this. Now, I'll get twenty male clients trying to book in a day. Twenty appointments where I used to see five on a good day. I actually have to turn them away. I have to book months in advance. I'll see ten of them in a day and squeeze in lunch between clients. That's when I realized that I wanted more. More clients. More money. So the special package was born--for an extra two hundred bucks, that is. When a man comes ...
    into my shop and he knows what my special package means, he'd easily pay three hundred. They all see my tits hang before them while I work on their chests. They all feel the energy of my eyes when I look at them. They all imagine they have a special connection with me, tell themselves that they're my first client. My favorite part is that most of them came in because their wives told them they were too stressed from work. I can see the tan lines on their fingers from where their rings were before I asked them to take off all their clothes and jewelry. Ten clients a day, every day, at seventy bucks an hour is nothing but tiring. It's spare change, barely enough to keep the place running. But fucking one of them a day is an extra thousand in pure profit every week, no expenses. I still need more. I'm telling myself this isn't prostitution. I pick the men I fuck. I could go a week without sex with any of them if I wanted to. But I always find the right man. Always. Before any of this started, I had a few loyal female customers--much more than I had men. But my reputation has made its way to their ears and many of them found it distasteful. "Some girls will do anything to make a living, I guess," one of them said to me while she was on the table, After that, I never saw her again. She'd been coming to me every month since I opened the place a few years ago. I'm still trying to decide if this was worth it or not. I had just finished with my last client of the day, a large man with ...
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