This profile was up for just a few days, but disappeared a day or two ago. Hence no link.
There was a personal e-mail address – fillinbillin@gmail.com – on the profile, which I noted down.
Bored this afternoon, I e-mailed Layla to ask if she was still escorting. She said yes and asked me to ring her on 07902-587878.
The – very friendly – conversation that ensued lasted over quarter of an hour. Layla explained that her profile had disappeared because the girl she used to work with, whom she referred to as “Jess”, had hacked into and stolen her profile.
She told me some of Jess’s ID names – one of which I remembered from a thread on UKP in which Jess was outed as a scammer and a thief:
www.ukpunting.com/index.php?topic=159707.msg1726583#msg1726583Wisdom might have dictated making my excuses and leaving the conversation at this point.
However Layla sounded a nice enough girl. Also, after all, it appeared that she was a victim of Jess rather than an accomplice – and indeed there does not seem to be any adverse comment about her on UKP.
She said she was keen to earn some money since her profile was down, and we agreed £80 for a “relaxed” outcall at my flat, to last between 30 and 40 minutes.
She said she didn’t often do outcalls, but said she would because I sounded nice.
She asked me to pick her up outside Ibis Budget Hotel in Fratton, which she told me was in very close proximity to her own flat (where she normally does her escorting).
I duly collected her and drove her to my flat. She continued to tell me in detail about her problems with Jess.
Layla told me she herself was 30 – not the 22 given on her profile. Quite a big difference, though she did indeed look fully 30.
Once we were inside the flat, I gave Layla the £80. When I then reminded her that she’d agreed a relaxed 30 to 40 minutes for £80, she said £80 was her price for 30 minutes.
Bad start.
I said, “I’ll just go and have a final quick wash.”
“Don’t bother,” she said, “Let’s get on with it.”
Odd.
Once in the bedroom her attitude deteriorated further, and she became sullen and hostile.
I said, “If you don’t want to do this, give me back the £80 and I’ll drive you home.”
“No, let’s get on with it,” she said again.
I asked her to get undressed and said I’d be back in a minute. Suddenly she also was out in the corridor. Fortunately I’d locked the entrance door to the flat.
She went to the door to try to make her escape with my £80, and duly found it locked.
“Unlock the door,” she says.
“Give me back the money and I’ll let you out,” I say.
This exchange is repeated three or four times.
Then suddenly her mobile phone is in her hand and she’s repeatedly yelling into it, “Mum, Mum, call the police! I’ve been locked in. Call the police!”
All this just inside my flat door, with the corridor outside and another flat just opposite.
Not ideal.
A battle of wills, therefore, and mine is beginning to crumble. There’s only so long you can stand firm when someone’s yelling “Call the police!” just by the front door to your flat.
Miraculously, however, Layla yielded just as I was about to, and thrust the four £20 notes back into my hand; and I let her out.
The irony of this episode is that Layla had spent most of her time both on the telephone and on the drive to my flat complaining about her friend Jess having hacked into her profile and stolen it, and telling me how untrustworthy her friend was and what a wrong ’un.
And then, once in my flat, Layla tried exactly the same tactics that have made her friend so notorious on this site.
Ah well. All part of life’s rich pattern, I suppose.
