ALIAS

CHAPTER 3: THURSDAY

THURSDAY HEARD JAKE LEAVE. She sat up and touched her velvety privates. She was pretty sore; Jake had been very rough with her. Poor boy thinks hard s*x is real s*x. She could have stopped him, but she had allowed him to be as rough as he wanted anyway, because sometimes, she needed a little pain to remind her of her painful past. A good number of men had had their way with her ever since she was a teenager in the mid-west. And that was why she refused to retire now. She wanted to teach men a lesson.

Today, the fifth of July 2015, was her birthday. She had turned forty-one, but she was in better shape than most twenty-year-olds in San Ysidro. She kept herself trim and refined so she could control the kind of men that would have her. Broke, arrogant men could not even touch her with a ten-foot pole. They could only gaze helplessly and whistle desperately whenever she majestically walked by. But the rich men she slept with weren’t safe either. She controlled them like puppets. They spent ridiculous sums of money on her, but it was not solely because of her stellar s****l skills. Mellissa Thursday was much more than a pricey hooker. She had intended to be it the moment she turned twenty and was out of her mom’s house. Before becoming a hooker, she spent three years in various institutes doing short courses like French, Italian, psychology, massage therapy, film, theatre, culinary arts, business management, and sports. She did further studies by buying college books because she did not have enough money to get herself through college. With all that knowledge, she could have easily been a chef, winemaker, masseuse, psychologist, business manager, or sports journalist. But she was smart and she knew she couldn't depend on an array of monthly paychecks to make her rich.

From a very young age, Melissa knew that men were the path to success. Men owned everything, including women. She hated them, but she knew that she needed them. She could neither defeat them nor take their power, but she could use them to draw whatever she wanted from them. Men were powerful, but they had flaws and she would capitalize on those to her advantage. She first learned about men’s flaws from her perverted and abusive crack addict father, who had tried to seduce her or r**e her more than a couple of times. Hell, he had even tried to pay her for a blowjob when she was twelve and didn't even know the meaning of a blowjob. She swallowed hard as she recalled him towering over her blooming body, holding his hideous red erection in his right hand and a ten-dollar bill in his left hand. That was the first p***s she ever saw. She had run away and told her mother, who kicked him out of the house but took him in a week later when the bills became too much. Melissa understood her, but she despised her dad. She was now somewhat grateful to him because she wouldn't be this rich if it wasn't for that and many more s****l advances that followed from him. Now, her mom lives in a hundred-thousand-dollar home with maids. Her dad eventually lost his wits and was a homeless guy in God-knows-where. She didn’t care, and neither did her mother.

The most valuable thing that Melissa had learned from her dad, or anyone for that matter, was that men had one common weakness; their p*****s. The ugly, small, big, black, white, pink, thin, fat d***s they swung around proudly were their greatest undoing. Men’s loins burned the moment they set their eyes on Melissa. She never dressed like a slut, but she wore fitting outfits that accentuated her figure. Men did not like sluts. They wanted women who they were sure had not been with a lot of men. They hated women who oversold themselves by wearing heavy makeup or showing more skin than fabric.

Melissa knew how to act. No one knew her name was Thursday. Only Jake. Her procedure was methodical and intricately designed. She made her clients see her as an expensive lady looking to have some fun. She would then reel them in with her refined manners and fluency in Italian and French. She would get them to talk about themselves, which wasn’t hard, because men like talking about themselves and boasting about their successful endeavors or rich-people-problems.

She had done a lot of online research about what rich men were interested in, including theatre, charity, wines, tech, sports, and business. She learned everything about these interests; she bought expensive wines, watched plays and musicals and read every business magazine she could lay her eyes on. She knew all the golf, NFL, NBA and soccer stars by name, height, stats and off-pitch rumors. She also knew how every sport was played, including the ridiculous ones like badminton. She could carry a conversation about sports for hours without losing interest. She knew when the new iPhone was coming out and its features. She knew what villages in Zimbabwe or Peru needed waterholes and mosquito nets. She did lose interest, but her acting skills made these men believe they were interesting.

In some situations, Melissa found a depressed client. A few drinks in and the man would spill his heart out to her. She would listen to him and then be encouraging and accommodating, thanks to her therapy classes. She would give him comfort s*x, then manipulate the guy into not wanting to have an attachment to her because she knew that insecure men could be really stalkery and possessive.

When a man spent the night with Melissa, it would be the best night of his life. After an intriguing conversation at the bar, Melissa would turn into something else. She turned into Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of s*x and moved like a snake in bed. Her theatrics made the man think he was Eros. She made him think he had unleashed the Aphrodite in her. She would then massage him then proceed to satisfy him in any way he liked. Vaginal s*x wasn't the only source of pleasure for this horny demon. She used her hands, mouth and t**s. She never used her anus to pleasure any man, despite numerous pleas, because she knew that he would value her less thereafter. After doing all that filthy stuff, she would bathe him with warm water and sing him lullabies. She watched him doze off in the bathtub, gratified and peaceful. She would then lead the groggy man to her king-size bed and cover him. Once he was out, she’d go to the bathroom to shower and masturbate or quietly laugh at the poor egotistic man.

By morning, Melissa would have a shitload of money wired to her account. The man claimed he would call later, but she knew he wouldn’t. He was either married or in a relationship. Others failed to call simply because they did not understand how she had transformed them from firm and erect men to little moaning boys in bed. And that was that, she'd divide the money five ways; taxes, money to buy magazines and other learning material, money to spend on expensive food, travel, jewelry and outfits, money wired to her mum and savings. She knew she wouldn't be young and attractive forever- in fact, she was using a little more concealer than usual nowadays. She had planned to move to Hollywood once she was done with this work and get married to some famous actor who she would divorce later and claim fat alimony checks from. But she knew she needed money to not look like a gold digger in Hollywood. Currently, she had an excess of almost four million dollars. She needed around five more clients to hit four million. Four million dollars in twenty years wasn’t bad.

Melissa Thursday stood up and walked to the mahogany table. She could see the hundred-dollar bills that the detective had left for her. She counted them. He had paid triple the set price. A night with Melissa wasn’t actually worth $500 as she had stated, it never went below $2000. She was infuriated. She didn't care about the money today because it was her birthday, but she couldn't stand these chauvinistic men any longer. They always thought that they were doing her a favor by paying more, but that was not the case. On another day, she would gladly have taken the money and spent it on some clothes, but not today. She wanted someone to follow her rules today, it was her birthday for God's sake. Stupid, stupid cocky little detective boy. She was gonna return $1500 to this lowly bastard and show him he wasn’t doing her any favors.