The Nick Willis Humiliator!
-
<blockquote class="ipsBlockquote" data-author="Siam" data-cid="563691" data-time="1457589133"><p>
All this was back in the late nineties in Aus, so I'm sure things have changed<br><br>
FYI (we all like to learn some things right? If you find this offensive or offputting, then move to another corner of the pub and play pool or pokies
)<br><br>
Hiring the girls for an hour cost $200. Girls got 80-100 (if they were a favourite), driver got 20-30, agency took the rest. Half hour appointments were $130-150. <br><br>
Only Women were allowed to be brothel/escort business owners by law. Lucrative business<br><br>
Special extras (French or Greek - you work it out) were about 50-100 more (one girl was one time was constantly drinking water on the way tot he job. "You ok?, you're not feeling sick eh?" I asked. "No mate this freak wants me to wee on him"<br><br>
Lots of demand - there are a lot of lads doing a Willis out there, but only a minority have the money or attitude to dial the services. Mine workers were number 1 and when the yank navy came to town it was non stop for 12 hour shifts cha-ching<br><br>
About a third to half were purely for companionship, no shenanigans. 2 clients were quadriplegics on big payouts from accidents in the mines. Great blokes but just pretty much stuck in large electronic beds and at night just wanted non judgemental girls to hang with them. One guy, super bloke wanted to pay by credit card. We had the old click clack slider and signed receipt in those days - "how you gonna sign it mate?" "Stick the pen in my mouth and hold the receipt up and I'll scribble something, just like Rodney Rude 'feathers first!' "<br><br>
One guy rang up wanting a half hour with an Asian but "one straight off the boat who can't speak English". I took a savvy Asian girl and she was done in 15 minutes, and she spoke English as well as you and me but just acted. 2 hours later I bought the morning newspaper and was reading it while she had breakfast "That's the guy!" as she pointed to a photo in the paper. Only the highest ranking Politician in the State!<br><br>
The celebs would hire the girls to party because even then there'd be a risk of stories in the papers from nightclub pickups. Celebs thought our girls were more discreet.<br><br>
All girls would check the addresses first. There was a story/myth that one girl turned up to her Uncle's place one time!<br><br>
10 percent of girls made and saved good money (1000 bucks a night). Asians bought houses. 50% were on hard drugs. Vicious cycle, need drugs to do job, need job to get drugs. Lots had boy friends sponging, but oh how they loved these parasites. Discretion was paramount, some girls were leading massive double lives, some were solo mums making ends meet.<br><br>
I always respected a lot of these women. Strong, willfull, generous women just caught in an industry that's been here since time began and always will be. Gettin by in life.<br><br>
My mates originally loved the stories (so much m,ore happened) and I revelled in telling them. After a few months I got tired of telling them and then I realised the average person doesn't really need to know what lurks at night in big cities - you're better off without the baggage, but it is a titilating scene<br><br>
I did this job for quick cash for about 6 months nightshift<br><br>
If all this is distasteful then mods please delete, but I thought it might be of some interest, with the take away message being "don't judge the girls harshly, they're just surviving and are actually making the community safer in many ways"</p></blockquote>
<br>
I don't think any of that was out of line. Fascinsting in fact. -
<blockquote class="ipsBlockquote" data-author="Siam" data-cid="563691" data-time="1457589133">
<div>
<p>All this was back in the late nineties in Aus, so I'm sure things have changed</p>
<p> </p>
<p>FYI (we all like to learn some things right? If you find this offensive or offputting, then move to another corner of the pub and play pool or pokies )</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hiring the girls for an hour cost $200. Girls got 80-100 (if they were a favourite), driver got 20-30, agency took the rest. Half hour appointments were $130-150. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Only Women were allowed to be brothel/escort business owners by law. Lucrative business</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Special extras (French or Greek - you work it out) were about 50-100 more (one girl was one time was constantly drinking water on the way tot he job. "You ok?, you're not feeling sick eh?" I asked. "No mate this freak wants me to wee on him"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lots of demand - there are a lot of lads doing a Willis out there, but only a minority have the money or attitude to dial the services. Mine workers were number 1 and when the yank navy came to town it was non stop for 12 hour shifts cha-ching</p>
<p> </p>
<p>About a third to half were purely for companionship, no shenanigans. 2 clients were quadriplegics on big payouts from accidents in the mines. Great blokes but just pretty much stuck in large electronic beds and at night just wanted non judgemental girls to hang with them. One guy, super bloke wanted to pay by credit card. We had the old click clack slider and signed receipt in those days - "how you gonna sign it mate?" "Stick the pen in my mouth and hold the receipt up and I'll scribble something, just like Rodney Rude 'feathers first!' "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One guy rang up wanting a half hour with an Asian but "one straight off the boat who can't speak English". I took a savvy Asian girl and she was done in 15 minutes, and she spoke English as well as you and me but just acted. 2 hours later I bought the morning newspaper and was reading it while she had breakfast "That's the guy!" as she pointed to a photo in the paper. Only the highest ranking Politician in the State!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The celebs would hire the girls to party because even then there'd be a risk of stories in the papers from nightclub pickups. Celebs thought our girls were more discreet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>All girls would check the addresses first. There was a story/myth that one girl turned up to her Uncle's place one time!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>10 percent of girls made and saved good money (1000 bucks a night). Asians bought houses. 50% were on hard drugs. Vicious cycle, need drugs to do job, need job to get drugs. Lots had boy friends sponging, but oh how they loved these parasites. Discretion was paramount, some girls were leading massive double lives, some were solo mums making ends meet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I always respected a lot of these women. Strong, willfull, generous women just caught in an industry that's been here since time began and always will be. Gettin by in life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>My mates originally loved the stories (so much m,ore happened) and I revelled in telling them. After a few months I got tired of telling them and then I realised the average person doesn't really need to know what lurks at night in big cities - you're better off without the baggage, but it is a titilating scene</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I did this job for quick cash for about 6 months nightshift</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If all this is distasteful then mods please delete, but I thought it might be of some interest, with the take away message being "don't judge the girls harshly, they're just surviving and are actually making the community safer in many ways"</p>
</div>
</blockquote>
<p>Great write up!</p> -
<blockquote class="ipsBlockquote" data-author="booboo" data-cid="563728" data-time="1457597225">
<div>
<p>Excuse my naivety but a what?</p>
</div>
</blockquote>
<p> </p>
<p>Do a Willis is the fluffy bunny filter for w a n k. The rest should be self explanatory</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No pun intended with the use of the word 'self'.</p> -
<p>Couple of other things to perhaps fill in some gaps</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'd drive girl to the address (hotels were the best), she takes the cash, checks it out, then rings dispatch (the office) to say it's all good. Dispatch rings me. I sleep in the car or play video games. At the end she rings dispatch, they ring me, I take the cash when she's in the car. Never ask what happened in there, just a quick, "you ok" and let a few minutes of silence pass</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One time I was sleeping (front seat reclines) and a bloke tried to pinch my car. Had one of those metal straps like a ruler. I fucken freaked out and shined my maglight torch at him. He took off. Don't know who was more scared</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A couple of hairy moments when dispatch called "Get in there now, there's trouble". I'm tiny and back then would have weighed about 70 kgs. Can't fight. I worked out some psychology and when there was any dispute (usually because old mate couldn't get up) I'd go in, knock on the door, the fella would come out agitated as. My first line was always "Alright mate what's this little bitch done now? She's been a stuck up cnt all night"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Immediately (every time), the bloke's demeanour would change and we had an us against her situation. Invariably he'd calm down and I'd offer to send another and things were dissolved. Then I'd cop an earful from my girl in the car, but I doubt I'd be able to help her (or him!) if things got violent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>See, when a guy has to call for a girl he ain't really running on alpha male juice and the last thing he wants is a screaming match at a suburban front door at 3am</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A couple of times we had to run for the car though, and once 2 blokes stuck a sword (I know, who has a sword??) through my window in my face - that was scary</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But 95% was incident free (well for me anyway)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There were a few absolutely stunning beautiful girls and a general mix of others right down to some old ones and huge ones. Punters could and did reject the girls sometimes and we'd get a "drivers" fee off him and split it. One old girl, lovely person and a heroin addict was clever. She'd cover the eyehole in the hotel doors when knocking and charm her way in before they'd even made up their minds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If the payment was credit card or eftpos (huge machine with a printer like a massive mobile phone back then), I'd do the transaction at the start. Sometimes the guys would invite me in for drinks or hang in the living room or join the party.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The bikies would open that little "tinny door" and command me to park way down the street - good luck love</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Extended hours would be at 150-170 an hour and not uncommon for me to go home for 8-10 hours and pick them up in the morning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>if the client was married and a cock, the girls would leave tiny amounts of glitter in the house</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At some point all of the girls, even the hardened pros would go quiet, even if only for a few minutes or have a haunted look. It is a tough job.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But there were heaps of laughs and some crazy nights with some pretty cool chicks, funny as.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>however there was also lots of waiting around and always the sense of dread that shit could happen and an undercurrent of dodginess dysfunction. also night work is a killer</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So that's enough, a bit interesting perhaps and very very real and pragmatic, but anyway, such is life...and I met some great sportsmen, and there's an ex state premier who thinks "Annie" can't speak English. :)</p> -
<blockquote class="ipsBlockquote" data-author="Siam" data-cid="563773" data-time="1457624017">
<div>
<p>Couple of other things to perhaps fill in some gaps</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'd drive girl to the address (hotels were the best), she takes the cash, checks it out, then rings dispatch (the office) to say it's all good. Dispatch rings me. I sleep in the car or play video games. At the end she rings dispatch, they ring me, I take the cash when she's in the car. Never ask what happened in there, just a quick, "you ok" and let a few minutes of silence pass</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One time I was sleeping (front seat reclines) and a bloke tried to pinch my car. Had one of those metal straps like a ruler. I fucken freaked out and shined my maglight torch at him. He took off. Don't know who was more scared</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A couple of hairy moments when dispatch called "Get in there now, there's trouble". I'm tiny and back then would have weighed about 70 kgs. Can't fight. I worked out some psychology and when there was any dispute (usually because old mate couldn't get up) I'd go in, knock on the door, the fella would come out agitated as. My first line was always "Alright mate what's this little bitch done now? She's been a stuck up cnt all night"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Immediately (every time), the bloke's demeanour would change and we had an us against her situation. Invariably he'd calm down and I'd offer to send another and things were dissolved. Then I'd cop an earful from my girl in the car, but I doubt I'd be able to help her (or him!) if things got violent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>See, when a guy has to call for a girl he ain't really running on alpha male juice and the last thing he wants is a screaming match at a suburban front door at 3am</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A couple of times we had to run for the car though, and once 2 blokes stuck a sword (I know, who has a sword??) through my window in my face - that was scary</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But 95% was incident free (well for me anyway)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There were a few absolutely stunning beautiful girls and a general mix of others right down to some old ones and huge ones. Punters could and did reject the girls sometimes and we'd get a "drivers" fee off him and split it. One old girl, lovely person and a heroin addict was clever. She'd cover the eyehole in the hotel doors when knocking and charm her way in before they'd even made up their minds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If the payment was credit card or eftpos (huge machine with a printer like a massive mobile phone back then), I'd do the transaction at the start. Sometimes the guys would invite me in for drinks or hang in the living room or join the party.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The bikies would open that little "tinny door" and command me to park way down the street - good luck love</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Extended hours would be at 150-170 an hour and not uncommon for me to go home for 8-10 hours and pick them up in the morning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>if the client was married and a cock, the girls would leave tiny amounts of glitter in the house</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At some point all of the girls, even the hardened pros would go quiet, even if only for a few minutes or have a haunted look. It is a tough job.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But there were heaps of laughs and some crazy nights with some pretty cool chicks, funny as.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>however there was also lots of waiting around and always the sense of dread that shit could happen and an undercurrent of dodginess dysfunction. also night work is a killer</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So that's enough, a bit interesting perhaps and very very real and pragmatic, but anyway, such is life...and I met some great sportsmen, and there's an ex state premier who thinks "Annie" can't speak English. :)</p>
</div>
</blockquote>
<p>I see a book and a movie deal in there Siam. Who will play you?</p> -
<p>Jason Statham?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You missed the bit where Siam said "I'm tiny and back then would have weighed about 70 kgs. Can't fight"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sorry Siam, stories are great, but you've become as much of this thread as Willis now :)</p> -
<blockquote class="ipsBlockquote" data-author="taniwharugby" data-cid="563807" data-time="1457639962"><p>Jason Statham?<br><br>
You missed the bit where Siam said "I'm tiny and back then would have weighed about 70 kgs. Can't fight"<br><br>
Sorry Siam, stories are great, but you've become as much of this thread as Willis now :)</p></blockquote>
<br>
Nah Mr Bean -
<p>I was thinking DJ Qualls</p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="http://cdn.movieweb.com/img.site/PHnnAtqogOFxqw_1_m.jpg" alt="PHnnAtqogOFxqw_1_m.jpg"></p> -
<p>he's quite tall though....</p>
-
<blockquote class="ipsBlockquote" data-author="taniwharugby" data-cid="563836" data-time="1457645475">
<div>
<p>he's quite tall though....</p>
</div>
</blockquote>
<p>Tom Cruise is short. Just tell him no pushing tin prior to the shoot ;). Or William H Macy, like he was in the cooler</p>
