Asian sex slave chat
Within earshot, You Mi saw a half-dozen Korean women lounging, watching TV and eating.Suddenly, a loud ring cut through the noise of the TV.After several weeks on the job, You Mi heard an unfamiliar buzzer inside Sun Spa.
Sun Spa gave her a cell phone so her bosses and customers could reach her, and You Mi was responsible for the bill. Each week, an elderly South Korean woman came by Sun Spa with imported sex-worker clothes in the back of her trunk -- the kind worn by prostitutes in South Korea. You Mi spent 0 for an off-white wraparound skirt no bigger than an unfolded napkin, and a yellow and blue cheerleader-style skirt with matching halter top.She would find the rumors about San Francisco to be true: It was a booming stop on the international sex-trafficking route. The first stop on the Sun Spa tour was the five rooms on the bottom floor, used for the regulars.They were tiny, less than 50 square feet and bare except for a cot with one white sheet, a shower and a small painted nightstand in one corner. A fluorescent ceiling light cast a pallid green glow over the room."That's not sexy enough," her new co-worker said, instructing her to put on a bikini top and a sarong slit all the way to the waistband.The last stop on the tour was the bell, in a back room off the kitchen, used to summon the women when customers arrived.
The women dropped their chopsticks and hustled out to the lobby, arranging themselves on an L-shaped sofa so the customer could make his choice. She sat on the sofa, feeling like a dog that had responded to its master's whistle.