Yes, Mom, I told her. I promise to answer your questions fully and truthfully to the best of my ability.
“Good,” she went on. “Now, tell me what you want to do.”
“I want to enroll at Columbia, major in history, and then go on to grad school and an academic career, or study political science or law if I change my mind. I want to pay for my schooling and support myself by doing part- time geisho work. I don’t want to rely on, or be influenced by dad’s control of the money.”
“OK,” she said. “With those plans, even after you finish your studies it will be good to have a ready way of making a living, regardless of the field you finally choose. For the freedom this will give you, if nothing else.”
“What I suggest is that you ask for a deferred admission to the university — a year off before continuing your studies — and use that time to qualify for geisho work.”
“I know a woman, an old friend and colleague in the business who is now a free lance trainer — along with her husband who submits to her. I can ask her to take you on for testing, training and some experience with actual clients, under her supervision. If she accept you, you can expect to be trained in the basics of geisho service both to her and to her husband. Then, depending on what she learns about you, and with your consent, she’ll lend or rent you out to friends or clients of hers who will use you and give her feedback on your performance. At the end of the process, she’ll prepare a report card that she’ll discuss with you, and with me also, if you give that permission. You won’t make any money yet. Any money she can make from you she’ll keep as her fee for teaching you. You’ll be indentured as her apprentice. In effect, as her temporary slave.”
At that point, I was squirming in my seat, trying to hide my erection. Of course, my mother noticed. “I can see you’re aroused,” she said. “For what we’re planning, that’s a good sign. But your choice must be explicit. What do you say? Should I call her and set up an interview, or think of something else?”
“Please call her,” I answered. “I know I’ll learn lot.”
“You will,” my mother said. “Just trust her, obey her, and be respectful, as I know you can be.” She beckoned me to her and kissed my forehead, giving a mother’s blessing. “You’ll do fine.”
She picked up the phone and dialed. In a few moments her call was answered — by a voicemail system, obviously; and I heard her leave a message. “Hi Lotte, this is Hannah Woodruff. When you have a chance, could you call me back please? It’s about my son James — 18 years old, good-looking and juicy. He’s expressed interest in working his way through university and grad school as a geisho. He needs testing and training and I’m hoping you’d be willing to take him on. Thanks. Bye for now.”
She hung up. “There,” she said. I’ve left a message with an old friend and colleague named Charlotte Steiner. She’s a trainer now, and one of the best I know. She’ll call back, and we’ll take it from there.”
That was the end of our conversation. A few days went by before there was any news.