RJ Stripper

By Ashish Rao

Have you ever imagined the life of a male escort? What happens when an escort falls in love?
The story revolves around the life of a male escort Raj, and how he fell in love with a local girl Trisha. She does not know the truth, not yet. But he is scared to even think how she will react when the truth comes out.
Having run away from home, he has nothing except a few pennies initially. But he sleeps his way to become a millionaire. The clients help him grow and he is hungry for more. Set across three cities, it is a seizing account of a boy aiming to become one of best escorts of the city. Having run away from home, he has nothing except some pennies initially. But he makes his way to become a millionaire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Srishti Publishers
• Release date: Mar 1, 2019

Book preview

Publishers.

Prologue

Please sit down.

I made myself comfortable on the seat.

Hi, I am Anita. She said and started walking towards the table in the corner.

It does not look like an office, I said as I gazed around her flat.

She stood in the corner and smiled. She then took out a notepad and pen and came to sit on the sofa beside me.

It’s dual purpose. She giggled and poured some water into the glass kept on the table.

I took a sip as she continued. So you are Mr. Raj! She looked up through her glasses.

I didn’t want to ruin the professional time we were having, but I complemented her in my mind that she looked stunning.

I nodded my head as she started to write down something.

I guess you could have given a more artistic ad in the newspaper for the writer-job requirement, I said as I picked up the paper lying on the table and started reading it.

Well, I could have, but as a writer, there are financial issues. She laughed and took the paper from me. But what I did was sufficient, I guess. Look, it brought you here. So let’s start now, she added, pushing her glasses a bit up her nose.

I folded my hands like a kid in nursery, trying to concentrate on the teacher.

Umm...you want to write a book on your life, your application said. Can I ask why? she asked with the pen’s back cover floating on her lower lip.

I waited for a second to collect words for such an unexpected question and then spoke with calmness, Well, I want to tell people out there about my life.

She scratched her nails against each other and looked up into my eyes as she was expecting more from me.

I want to share with people what the world for a stripper is like, I added.

She raised here eyebrow when I uttered the word stripper.

So…your some relative or friend...?

I understood her question and before she could speak further I interrupted her.

No, I am.

What! She freaked out and her pen fell out of her hand. I was accustomed to these reactions so I smiled at her.

I am sorry. I thought only female strippers existed. She said in an embarrassing tone.

I laughed that made her comfortable and she joined me.

Well there are many things we all don’t know. I said and took one more sip.

Okay! She said as she asked me to start my story.

I scratched my head and told her that I don’t know from where to start.

Anything...you can start from anywhere. We can bring together the pieces, later. First tell me where do you put up, right now? She helped me start.

Paris, I replied.

W…what brought you to India then? Just for writing a book on your life? You could have hired a writer there. She asked me with her eyes wide open.

Well, love can do anything, I smiled, sheepishly.

Liar...being a stripper and loving someone are two different tracks, she said as she smiled at me.

I am also a human being. I defended myself.

She started writing again but I ignored her.

Shall we? I said her as she saw me looking at her face.

What happened in your life that you chose to become a stripper? Tell me about your journey from scratch. Anita braced herself to write down.

Hush! At last I got some point to start. Thanks. Now I think I’m with the correct person who loves to write exactly what is told. My penny will never be wasted. I completed the sentence in one breath.

Mr..., She said as she blushed and reminded me that it was not for her.

Huh! The story goes this way.... I sighed.

1

Refugee

Delhi Express is ready to arrive at platform number three.

The announcement cracked my silent tears to look at the clock. It was around 4 p.m. in the morning. I wiped my cheeks to look around the deserted station of Faridabad. There were only a few people, trying to catch the local train to get to their offices in Delhi, early morning. The hawkers lay lazily buried under the sweaters and blankets trying to keep themselves warm.

I took out my water bottle to take a sip and thought for a second if I was doing right waiting for the train to leave this city, in the middle of the night? I could have worked in some factory to earn my bread and butter. No! I calmed my mind. I wanted to do something big in my life. And going to the capital city, Delhi was the only chance to achieve that. Rather than that I just wanted to get rid of the city as fast as I could.

I pressed my bag against my chest trying to get rid of the cold but it didn’t work. I threw it aside and pulled my sleeve up to see the burning wound on my hand.

Aw…, I pressed it as little blood came out. I keenly observed the old scars on my hand.

The tears rolled down my cheeks. I asked myself what was the crime I did for which I had to go through this disastrous violence.

Flashback

Idiot, get up... Someone broke my beautiful dream by pushing me off the bed.

You bastard it’s late…! I saw through my half opened eyes. Something hazy moved here and there in my room.

Slap! Before I could try to get back to the real life there was a red cheek hanging out of my face in the morning.

Ouch it hurts, I murmured to myself as I fastened up getting from the bed. Slap! Again…before my last tears dried there was another one with the fadding voice to be quick.

It was my step dad. After my mom died, he has turned himself to a drunken beast. Due of this habit he has been suspended from his job, last month. Now his only job is to beat and monitor me.

Since few months my life has become a hell where I have made three suicide attempts and its not been a single day that I didn’t pray to God for my step father’s death. I also decided to go to police but he threatened me. I wrote letters to my grandparents to take me but they also refused. Gradually, I did not have any more courage to face him and I became his puppet.

He stopped me from going o school, my only place where I could breathe. Soon I realized that it is not me who is to suffer; I collected my courage and decided to leave the place.

The train arrived that broke my worst dream ever. It was over now. I decided to leave all my past behind and move to Delhi and get a better life.

I got into the general compartment as I didn’t have enough money to buy a ticket. Rather I wanted to save it for food.

I took the corner window seat and relaxed comfortably. As Faridabad station started to disappear, I started getting glimpse of memories of the time spent with my mother. The morning breeze touched my face whipping away the tears like it was blessing me to be happy. God knows it might be my mom!

I felt a little creepy as I saw only two to three passengers in the compartment. A man in his mid