’MADAM’ by Becky Adams CHAPTER 9
‘Treacle Tarts Upper Crust Delights’ was born. My first out-call escort agency. This later became abbreviated by all the randy residents of the Home Counties to just ‘Treacle’s’.
Mr Pip disapproved of my career choice, and didn’t want to help with designing the logo for my harem, so the first step was to get the art department of the local rag to design me an ad.
A saucy postcard-type sketch of a buxom wench in a short pinny, coquettishly holding a fruity tart aloft, seemed to do the job and into the paper it went. Favourable tarot cards were turned. Mr Pip tutted. We were on our way.
The calls started immediately.
I foolishly thought that the normal business procedure would be that the phone would ring, I would answer, and a man would request a lady. He’d make a booking. I would despatch the object of his desires and a good time would be had by all. A process hopefully repeated at least ten times daily, turning a nice profit. I had not been aware of the need to factor in the endless silent callers, heavy breathers, wankers, panters, grunters, time wasters and hoaxers that would block the lines and drive me to the very edge of reason. For the first two days, I gave each caller the benefit of the doubt. I went through my whole sales spiel. Prices, descriptions, company ethos, blah blah. But by day three I was recognising voices and scenarios. I was utterly amazed at why any person could be bothered to call a number up to twenty times a day and ask exactly the same questions. And why did the phantom thrusters call a company who sells sex and try to shock them by pretending to be having sex? It’s like phoning a dog groomers and barking. No-one’s impressed. By day four I was saying ‘I think you may have phoned us before sir, I believe you have all our details. Good day.’
By day five I was telling them to fuck off, and by day six I was just sighing and hanging up within the first five seconds of their performance. Several of these very same gents made the very same calls daily for all of the next twenty years that I was running agencies, parlours and brothels in Milton Keynes. Very odd.
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