Sex, Media & Culture 

Chapter 12: Sunshine, Sex & Easy Money - Diary of a Call Girl

Maria van Daarten  |  Feb 16

Chapter 12: Sunshine, Sex & Easy Money - Diary of a Call Girl

This chapter has been reprinted with permission.

Walking out of the no-tell hotel, I am immediately assaulted by the Greek summer heat. Fortunately, all hotel rooms are equipped with air-conditioning! I cannot imagine how someone would survive a summer in this city without it. I head for the subway. This afternoon I plan to explore the Monastiraki. It is the part of the old town that is famous for its many small shops, bars, cafés, restaurants, and, in particular, daily flea market. It is also where I will search for a bar where I will allegedly work for the next two months. Reaching my destination, Monastiraki Square is already swarming with tourists. Making my way through the crowds, my cell phone starts ringing. Glancing at the display, I see it is the same person who tried to reach me twice before.



“Hi! I’m calling in regards to your ad. Are you available now?”

“Yes, I’m available. Who am I speaking with?”

“My name is George. And you are?”

“I’m Anika.”

“Okay, Anika, could you come to my home?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Great, let me give you my address.”

“Hold on a second, don’t you want to know a bit about me?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess. How much do you charge?”

“150 euros an hour.”

“Okay, that’s reasonable. I live in Glyfada.”

“That’s no problem, George. Give me your full name, home address, and your landline number.”

“I live in Glyfada at 340 Eleftherios Street. Your phone shows my cell number, right?”

“Yes, I have that, but I need your landline number, George.”


“Simply because I need to call that number to make sure you’re actually home.”

“But I don’t have a landline. I swear!”

“I’m sorry, George, but if that’s the case I can’t come to your home. If you like, we can meet in Glyfada at a hotel.”

“No, I want you to come to my home!”

“As I said, I only do home visits if I have a customer’s landline number. I don’t think I can accommodate you.”

“So, you’re not coming to Glyfada?”

“You’re correct. In any case, I hope you have a nice weekend. Perhaps you’ll find another lady willing to come to your home. Bye, George!”

I hang up. I am not willing to entertain such a risk, especially after Violet warned me not to make house visits without a landline phone number, thus ensuring he actually lives at that address. Apparently, there are men who get a kick out of summoning a call girl somewhere without intending to go through with the arrangement. Some like to hang out in the vicinity and take photographs of the prostitute as she attempts to identify the customer. Violet told me she experienced this. Definitely something I can do without. The fact he did not ask any questions immediately made me suspicious. Maybe he is a young man who thinks this is an entertaining weekend game. In any case, I save the number under: ‘Caution - George’. If he calls again, I will immediately know who it is.

Luckily, the pedestrian walkways in the Monastiraki are narrow and shady. Exploring the small, narrow, and at times tube-like shops, I see knick-knacks, souvenirs, white cotton robes, leather sandals, handbags and backpacks, carpets, woven blankets, ceramic wares, and olive oil products. Each time I walk out of a shop and onto the sweltering, crowded walkway, I keep an eye out for a suitable bar I can sell as my new place of employment to my father and my German friends. At one point, I am pulled along by the crowds. I end up on a wide cobblestone path that coils around the Acropolis.

I have to be careful where I step so as not to ruin my silver high heels. Along my new route, I encounter one café or bar after another. That is how it is in Athens, restaurants, bars, and cafés are abundant in clusters, unlike Germany, where establishments are divided between shops, stores, and houses.

Here it seems they are all concentrated in certain areas. One small restaurant catches my eye with its colorful, cheerful decorations. Directly in front of the building, large rectangular umbrellas line up close together, providing a nice shady area for the small round tables underneath.

Every single one is occupied. On the other side of the walkway, directly across from the bar, is a large, gravel square with several shady trees here and there with tables and chairs belonging to the bar, most of which are empty. I walk over to one and sit down. The waitress approaches. I order a Diet Coke and a club sandwich because my stomach is growling. My phone rings again. A Greek cell number. Looking around, I see the people sitting nearest me are far enough away that they will not be able to overhear my conversation. I answer the call.


“Kalimera! Do you speak Greek?”

“No, unfortunately I do not. Let’s talk in English. I’m Anika by the way.”

“Hello, Anika, I’m Jason. It’s all right if you don’t speak Greek, English is fine. So, tell me, are you actually from Germany? How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Yes, I am German and I’m 35. Would you like more information?”


After telling him about my services and rates, he says:

“That sounds good. Are you free this evening? I’d like you to come to my house at 11 p.m. I live in Kifissia. Is that possible?”

“Kifissia? Where is that?”

“Kifissia is located in the northern district of Athens. I can text you the address. How about it? Can you come over at 11 p.m.?”

“Yes, I can, however, I need your landline phone number. Are you home now?”

“I am. I can call you from my landline and then you’ll have my home number. Would that be okay?”

“That’s fine, but you also need to text me your address.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll do that. First, let me call you back from my landline. Talk to you in a minute.”

Jason hangs up. I stare at my phone, anticipating his return call. In a minute, it rings.


“Yes, it’s me. Okay, now you have my home number. See you tonight, Anika!”

“Yes, see you tonight, Jason!”

He hangs up and I save both numbers: ‘Jason - Kifissia’. Shortly thereafter, my phone announces an incoming text:

Avrou 178, Kifissia, Jason.

I text back:

Thank you, we’re all set!

Fantastic! Now I have to look up the exact location in Kifissia. Typing it into Google maps, I find it in the northern area of Athens, just as Jason said. As the waitress serves my club sandwich my phone rings again.


“Hi! My name is George. Did you place an ad in Athens World?”

“Yes, I did. My name is Anika.”

“Hi, Anika. Okay, how much do you charge for an hour? What do you look like? And what services do you provide?”

“I’m 35, blonde with blue eyes, and a slim body. — For an hour of normal, safe sex my rate is 150 euros.”

“What, no anal?”

“Yes, but that costs 50 extra.”

“Oh, okay... Is there anything you specialize in?”

“I can role play. If you’d like me to be a dominatrix, then you called the right number. But those services are a bit more expensive.”

“Okay. How much for an hour of domination? You’re actually experienced, right?”

“Yes, I am. In Germany, I worked in a BDSM club for quite a while. For that service, the rate is 250 euros an hour, 400 for two. Role playing, such as a secretary, maid, school girl, etc., is 200 an hour.”

“I take it you have a dominatrix outfit and all the toys such as handcuffs, whips, and whatnot?”

“I sure do. Are you interested in that service?”

“Yes, most definitely, but I’m inexperienced! Let me think. — I find the rate a bit steep. Considering this is a new experience for me, could you knock the price down to 200?”

“Darling, please! I have set rates and I don’t like to haggle. Here’s my proposal: You pay the full 250 euros and if you enjoy being dominated, I’ll extend the session for an extra half hour. How do you like that offer?”

“Let me think … Let’s say I don’t like being dominated, could we switch over and continue with normal sex and anal intercourse is included in the price?”

“All right, I can live with that. So, when and where do you want to meet?”

“Can you meet me at 5 p.m. in Glyfada?”

“George, that doesn’t work for me. I require at least an hour notice for appointments so I can get there on time. Right now, it is 4 p.m. — I’m currently in the city center. I would have to go home to Piraeus to get my dominatrix outfit and accessories and then catch a ride to Glyfada. I don’t think I can make it before 6:30 p.m. Does that work for you? Or perhaps later?”

“Hm, I guess an hour will work. I could meet you at a hotel closer to where you live.”

“Okay. Do you know one in Piraeus?”

“Yes, I know the X-Dream Hotel in Piraeus. I can meet you there. Could you then meet me at 6 p.m.?”

“Yes, that’s possible. However, I don’t know the hotel. Text me the address so I can show it to the taxi driver.”

 “I’ll do that, Anika! Can I trust that you’ll actually show up? I don’t want to sit and wait in the room in vain!”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll be there. Believe me! I will see you later, George. I have to hurry now so I won’t be late for our rendezvous!”

“Fantastic! See you later, my mistress!”

Hanging up, I cannot help giggling when I hear him call me my mistress. I wolf down a few bites of my club sandwich. Unfortunately, I cannot finish a whole sandwich when rushed, which is a shame because it tastes so damn good and I am still so hungry. Regardless, work takes priority over everything else. I signal the waitress and pay my bill. I hurry to the nearest subway station.

When I arrive in Piraeus, it is 4:53 p.m. I hail a cab and it drops me off in front of the Lilo Hotel seven minutes later. Taking the steps two at a time, I hurry to my room on the fourth floor. From the closet, I grab the already packed large shoulder bag containing a black vinyl dress and other items a dominatrix needs. I take out the long blonde, clip-on ponytail because I want to wear it later to extend my natural hair. The bag is stuffed like a jam-packed gym bag, exactly the way it should be. I swiftly undress and hop into the shower. While toweling off, my cell phone announces an incoming text. It might be a text from George. It is. It reads:

Piraeus, X-Dream Hotel, Notios Street 34, room 17.

Okay, I’m on my way! I reply. I scribble the hotel address on a notepad and tear it off to show to the cab driver. Now I am faced with the difficult decision of what to wear. For visiting George, the yellow floral dress is too conservative. The red pencil skirt with a black top and my black high heels would be more appropriate. I comb my hair back, fasten it into a ponytail, and clip on the hair extension.

God, it looks fantastic! Pulling the hair back gives me a stern look, suitable for a dominatrix. I outline my eyes with black eyeliner, paint my lips a bright red, dab on perfume, and, voila, the dominatrix is ready! 5:36 p.m. Inhale deeply! I think I made good time, but now I am fired up. I tell myself to take it down a notch. I need to be calm to prepare for my upcoming role as a dominatrix. That requires withdrawing into myself, getting into the role. If I want to give a good performance, I must be convincing, seductive, stern, and sexy. — I cannot think of a scenario for a beginner like George. I will have to wait and see. I will use my past experiences to gauge what turns George on. Do I have everything I need? Yes. It looks that way. — Off to work I go!

-Visit us on March 16, 2021, to Check Chapter 13

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