Money is next on your list. Time to cash in on the model body. Your plans need enough for college and the next four years. You sleep on it and the next morning, check out of the hotel and take a taxi ride to the highest profile modeling agency in town. You walk in to an office suite in a downtown high rise building. It's not William Morris, but based on your google search, they have the client base that pays well. The man at the front desk smiles and welcomes you. He asks what you would like to drink. You decline the beverage and he disappears for a few minutes. It's long enough that you get second thoughts before the receptionist man returns with a clipboard and a camera.
"Sorry for the wait. I'm Nigel. I can offer you two thousand dollars to sign today, and I have three photo shoots lined up today if your willing to stick around here," Nigel says as he extends his arm with the clipboard in hand for you to sign.
You stick up your hands, "Not so fast...."
Nigel cuts you off, "Ten, I'll do ten thousand if you'll do underwear too."
You sign before Nigel retracts the offer. You remained the whole day at the office as several photographers and ad people came in to inspect and photograph you with various clothes, shoes, and some exercise equipment. After the last photo shoot, Nigel hands you a check for eighty nine thousand dollars.
Nigel smiles as you take the check, "Tomorrow, be here as early as you can, and I can double that check. Your a fresh face, but your body is what sells."
Out of money yourself, and the time is now too late to make it to a bank to open an account, much less cash a check...you find yourself asking Nigel, "Can I have a cash advance to pay for a hotel tonight?"
Nigel eyes your carry on size suitcase and asks no questions, "No need," and disappears again. He returns with a card and a key. Nigel smiles and pleads, "Go, eat, spend whatever on the card. The key is to an apartment in the building, 3102, on the thirty first floor." Nigel sees your shocked face, "Take your stuff and go upstairs. Come back in the morning. Anything you need, just ask the concierge by the elevator."
Nigel pushes you out the door. There were four apartments on the 31st floor, with 3102 being on the southwest corner. The apartment was fully furnished and stocked with food, alcohol, and a great view of the sunset. You know you cannot get used to this. Your plan requires you to keep a low profile, but for now, modeling is quick money. As this Tuesday comes to a close, you fall asleep knowing that this would end soon, if you did not lose your self control.
Nigel had you booked solid for photo shoots the next three days. Each day resulted in a check for just over $150K, except the underwear day, that was almost $400K. Nigel was amused at the designer's having to handle making the most of your large cock.
Time flew, and the last photographer left just before 6pm that Friday. You stood in the lobby and handed Nigel his card and key.
"No...no...no....your hot kid. This week was a warm up. You have a million dollar look kid." Nigel pleaded with a panicked look.
The money was more than enough, and your interest is not the same as Nigel's. "Thank you. I did not use the card, but the concierge did take care of a few things for me," you say.
Nigel tried for a few minutes to get you to reconsider, finally giving up as he sees your resolve. Nigel then offers one last chance, "Ad people are fickle, and your hot now. We have a limited time to cash in here."
You extend your hand for a handshake, which Nigel shakes, and you say, "Thank you again." Nigel continues shaking your hand and not letting go.
Nigel says, "You know where I am." Nigel releases your hand and you turn to exit.
You return to the 31st floor to retrieve your small suitcase and give the converge a kiss. The man, looking like he was in his late thirty's, looked much younger than the 68 years he shown earlier in the week. You don't know his name, and he does not know yours. Now you know you can use the power of the egg in your ass to help others. He gives you a roll of cash, that you try to refuse, but nod and eventually take. He pushes the down button for you, and you shake your head and smile, patting his butt for appreciation.
College is two months away. You consider someplace large and where you can stay in the background. At 18, you find cash at a decent hotel is unwelcome. You spend the weekend on a bus heading to Los Angeles, figuring you can sleep on the bus instead of a cheap motel. It's Monday morning, and you head out from Union Station to the first bank branch you can find, which happens to be a Wells Fargo. The new accounts officer is rude and thinks your trying to pass off bad checks. The branch manager can only apologize constantly after she verifies they are real. The next bank you walk into is a Bank of America. You get a second look, but much better treatment. You provide a character reference as the bank manager of the Wells Fargo branch, who followed you to the Bank of America. You walk out with a credit card, the first one in your life, and the ability to have a night in a decent hotel. USC was a different problem. The fall class had a waiting list. You call Nigel in the lobby after being told to join the waiting list. He offers a deal, two days, and you can get a PhD at USC. You agree and wait for a few minutes in the lobby.
An older man comes out and asks for your signature. "Congratulations on becoming a Trojan," he said.
Nigel was tried again to get you to sign on for more, but two days of underwear and male enhancement ad shoots is enough to make you want to walk away. Nigel again offers his services if you need anything. You know there is always a price with that.
Any place to rent close to the USC campus is outside of your budget. It takes to early August to get a place to live, a studio apartment, and a few basics. College was like high school. USC had it's bullies too. You keep quiet, keep good grades, and stay off the radar. You avoid getting into a situation like you did with the concierge. You graduate with a Math and Economics degree, but it's the USC MBA that makes the five years of school worth it. You get accepted into Stanford Law School, and move up the coast. Law school is harder to hide in the shadows after the first year. Your professors notice and call you out for your work. You change your name legally to a more generic name, Alex. You graduate and pass the California bar with a near perfect score. Now you have an education that can be your ticket anywhere.