The notorious cucumber

I dedicate this to you….you know who you are!
I have touched on in previous posts how city brothel/lounge brothels are very different, however either way all the girls offer extra services. In city brothels they call these extra services “Delux”, a standard service generally comprises of sensual massage, protected oral on the client and sex. Anything extra or “more intimate” as we describe it, costs more, and extra can mean as simple as kissing and touching. In the suburban brothels girls generally offer kissing and touching as a standard service but offer other things as extra’s. These things can range from mutual oral sex to spanish and greek and even bondage.

One service that is offered is a fruit and veggie show. It is basically sex involving food, whipped cream, chocolate sauce and as suggested…fruit and veg. It is a very specialised, and I have only ever worked with one girl who does it. It would have to be booked in advance as she would do a “grocery shop” on the way in, picking up some strawberries, bananas, cream and of course…..cucumber! They were all stored in the fridge until her booking, most girls knew of this specialised service she provided and never touched her props.

The room was prepped for one of these fruit and veg shows when I arrived one night, special sheets were laid aswell as extra towels stacked. Her bookings usually lasted about 1 hours, and most of the time she exited only holding the empty wrappers. This evening, at the end of the booking she came out still carrying some strawberries and the notorious cucumber still in the wrapper. She placed them in a bag and sat them on the bench in the girls room which also doubled as the kitchen/dining area, and off she went to wash her sticky body.

20 minutes later a god awful scream came from the girls area, I ran into the room, expecting to see blood, or a dead mouse or something hideous. I was greeted with the now not so sticky girl with her mouth hanging open as she stared in horror at the plate of dip and biscuits on the table a long with some delicately cut up cucumber…..the cucumber that she had previously put in the bag, that she had just used in a booking for her “show”. I didn’t know whether to dry wretch or keel over laughing, “Darling,” I started as I approached the cucumber thief in the lounge, “Um…” then I felt not so sticky girls hand on my shoulder, “Don’t worry, I didn’t take the wrapper off, and I put a condom on it too, its safe” she whispered in my ear. I paused and blinked at the girl sitting on the couch chomping on the cucumber, turned around walked into the kitchen and threw the platter away.

I have never looked at a cucumber the same again.


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Have you ever wondered about how things work in the sex industry?

Do you have any curiosities or questions about life in a brothel?

I would love to hear your requests ideas for a blog post, the best part is that nothing is off limits. I am happy to tackle any topic you put to me.

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It’s all about the money


Often society makes assumptions as to why women get into this industry and why they stay.  Not everyone’s story is heart wrenching, starting with “I was molested as a child”, some simply start with “I needed to make some money”.  I would be lying to you if I said money wasn’t a motivator for 99.9% of these women, however it takes a special mind-set to be able to handle this work. 

I worked at an escort agency for a couple of months on the phones, taking calls from gentlemen, describe the ladies and send them by car to the required address.   It is a fine art describing women well enough to awaken a man’s imagination, yet trying to stay as accurate as possible.  There were times we only had a couple of ladies available and yet managed to describe them 3 different ways in order to make it look like 6 women, you really need the gift of the gab to be successful.  There is certainly a lot of money to be made as an escort if you are young and attractive, escorting attracts a different type of client to the brothels, most are rich or famous, successful and very fussy. They don’t often book just for the hour, but 3 or 4 hours at a time, even a whole evening. These evening bookings are called party bookings, they are where girls aren’t only expected to have sex but mingle and hang out, they are often expected to even take party drugs.  Most of the time they fake take drugs, as they don’t want to come down mid-booking. 

I was surprised to find that a lot of the girls who escort already have day jobs or are studying and are looking to earn some extra cash in the short-term for a particular situation or project. I have met directors who are trying to get the coin to fund their first movie, scientists trying to fund their research, and women trying to get the start-up to get their business idea of the ground.  I found them very inspiring, all very grounded and able to compartmentalized their lives, giving them the drive to work as an escort.

One girl in particular proved to be very popular being so young and beautiful, hit the ground running on her first night.  In between bookings she stopped off at the office to drop off  the house cut of the takings. While she waited for the money to be counted, one of the other phone girls decided to break the silence “So Jenny, why did you start working with us? Are you studying?” she probed.  The stunning, tall blonde girl meekly smiled and shook her head, “nope, I have to support my younger brother who is autistic because my Mother is really sick with cancer and my Father died 6 months ago.” Everyone in the room froze, you could cut the air with a knife as we all sat as we all processed what she had just said.  Suddenly the night manager piped up “Oh baby girl, I’m so sorry to hear that.” and we all nodded sympathetically.  “Thanks heaps,” she said “I’m alright, I’m just lucky I can work here.”

She is very right, I know in an ideal world she probably wouldn’t be doing this work, however she has a family to look after.  She is lucky that she has the looks and age to be able to earn up to nearly $500 an hour, money she just would never be able to earn in any other industry.  This industry has its risks, but as long as she is able to keep compartmentalizing and stay safe by working through an agency, she will be able to provide a life for her family that she otherwise wouldn’t be able to do.

I see these women as business women, they are driven and inspirational. It isn’t a job that just anyone can do, selling your greatest commodity, but they can handle the work, some women even enjoy it.  They enjoy the look of delight on the gentleman’s face as he see her standing elegantly at his door, they enjoy going from 5 star hotel to 5 star hotel, but most of all they all enjoy the money.


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A little sugar goes a long way.


I read a really beautiful article  today that was sent to me by my gorgeous man. It was titled “Dad’s heart warming letter to daughter”, ( and is a touching description from a father to his now little girl of who Mr. Right should be.  One of the lines in the  article that resonated with me was “Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul — in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego — that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)”. “That everyone else is worthy of interest also”, such simple words yet some of the truest  I have ever heard, and I have learnt that if you practice this with the girls I manage at the brothel, It gets you a long way.

This week a new girl started as a manager, she hasn’t had any experience in the industry however she is a friend of the owner.  I started my shift on monday to a wave of complaints about her, the biggest complaint, she didn’t even talk to me.  She went her whole training shift with out even going and saying hello to the girls and finding out their names.  You can’t work side by side with women who put a price on bodies and their physical safety in your hands and not even care what their name is.  Beyond the brothel doors, these women hear nothing but disdain and judgment about what they do, and  get little understanding as to why.  So to feel safe, appreciated and respected at work is one of the greatest things I can do for them.

One way I show my respect and interest is that I try to bake goodies for the girls on my shift.  I haven’t always, the last place I worked it was expected of the managers to buy treats for the girls on each shift, but I never had the time nor thought to bake.  One day I decided to make my partner some chocolate spiders ( to find that he actually didn’t like them.  I packed them up and took them a long to work, worried perhaps the girls may be disappointed not to get the usual array of shop bought treats.  On the contrary, they were actually touched that I would take the time to make something, each of them incredibly thankful as they tuckered into the retro treats.

From then on I endeavour to bake for my girls on every shift, admittedly I don’t always managed to find the time, but when  I do they the response is always the same.  The homemade cookies, cupcakes and chocolates are always welcomed with gratitude and appreciation, a little sugar goes a long way.

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I became an escort to face my demons.

A fantastic insight of a different kind!!!

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Mission: Exit Sahara

I have found that the girls all require different levels of  anonymity, some aren’t too fazed about their description being given out over the phone, others don’t even want their FAKE name to be mentioned never mind their description.  I have met girls who wear their profession loud a proud, with family and friends all knowing what she does, others, which is a little more common, make every effort to hide it. The say they work as property maintenance managers, night hotel managers, work at the casino or as a brothel receptionist.   I have found that they have at least one person in their life that they tell, but they all need someone to confide in.
Sahara is a cute little Sri Lanken girl, quite young and her confidant of choice – Her house mate/Lover. It was a very bitter-sweet relationship they had, when ever he wasn’t getting what he wanted, he told people her secret.  One shift Sahara came bursting in to my office and hit the ground and pulled across a curtain we had specifically for girls to hide behind but where I could still see out the office window into the lounge. “What the hell Sahara?? You ok?” I asked, “I know that guy….He is my housemates best friend! And I think he saw me!?!?!” she whispered, gripping her phone tightly.  Katerina, another girl, came in the office, “Where is Sahara? That client that just came in wants to stay with her.” Sahara began to sob, “Oh no, oh no, oh no….what am I going to do??” “Sahara, calm down. Katerina, just tell him that she isn’t available and pick someone else” I began, “we will just get him in a room with a girl, and get you out of here.”

Before Katerina had a chance, the client was at the front desk, “Hey, I saw a dark girl here before, I don’t want to stay with anyone but here.  Where has she gone?” SHIT! “I’m sorry Sir, dark girl? We don’t have a dark girl on tonight…” I was grasping at straws. “I saw her, I’ll wait if she is busy” he insisted.  “Um…” I pretended to think…”Oh, wait maybe you saw Melissa? But she isn’t dark, she is South American.  She just went into a two-hour booking though.” FYI – I just pulled Melissa out of thin air, I hoped that I could perhaps confuse him.  “Yeah that’s her! I’ll wait, its fine.” he said “Really? two hours? Maybe just come back later.” I hustled, I needed to get him out of here so  we could get Sahara home,  “I’m fine, I’ll wait”.  SHIT.

I let him back in the lounge, and he set up camp on a seat right near the office door, he was certain that Sahara in there and was hoping to catch her.  I was at a loss, I didn’t know what to do, so I had to get the owner of the establishment in. Ben has been working in the industry for 10 years, as an escort and manager, and knew every trick in the book.  Ben sat down on the floor next to Sahara who was shaking, tears running down her face, “Ok….heres the deal, He has seen you, is it really that bad? I mean, what possibly can happen?” Ben laid it out for her. Sahara looked terrified “No…no, no! I can’t! He knows my family, it will ruin me!”, “Ok, alright” Ben assured her as he sat there  thinking. “Right this is what we are going to do, Katerina will go and distract him and you will crawl through the reception area and climb on the reception desk, I’ll grab you from the other side and then take you through the back.” Ben instructed. “Call a taxi now so its ready to go” he said pointing at me.

Mission Exit Sahara went as planned, she was in a taxi within 10 minutes and on her way, the client sat in the lounge sprouting stories of saving Sahara from this world to other girls until he got impatient and left.  We didn’t see Sahara for a while after that, in fact I didn’t think we would actually see her again.  She popped up  a few weeks later with a different name and took her description off the website, but strangely wouldn’t talk about what happened after that night.

Protecting the girls anonymity is a large part of the job, it keeps our business running but most importantly protects the girls from potential harm.



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One of my biggest fears is something bad happening to a girl in the room, and not hearing it. In the larger brothels they have emergency buttons in the rooms, and *knock on wood* I have yet to have one go off on my shift. Some of the systems are complex where the emergency call goes to a security company that comes instantly. Others are as simple as a god awful screaming alarm that sounds in the office, which scares the bejesus out of you, and you have to run to the room to save her. In smaller brothels it is simply keeping an ear out, I am always alert, listening for screams and yells, which is quite difficult when screaming is apart of their job description. Since I have been at this particular establishment, I have burst into one booking because the girl was screaming, terrified she was being assaulted, only to find her on top, “performing” in order to speed things a long. I since soon learnt who are the “screamers” and not to panic.

Tonight I had a “unique” young gentleman from Dubai, certainly full of energy and certainly a little…..weird. He had already been in 3 times in the last few days which he was quite proud to announce as he came in the front door. He had decided on Heidi, a busty curvy young blonde, who clearly had captured his imagination because as he walked with me to the desk to pay he had a raging boner in his jeans. Payment was sorted, and I took him back to his room to have his shower, Heidi got organised and head to the room. With in 3 minutes of the booking starting, a blood curdling scream came from the room, I ran and banged on the door “HEIDI!! Are you ok???”. “Yeah, we are fine!” the client said through the ajar door. “Heidi, answer me, are you ok?!?” I insisted, “Yeah, Yeah…I’m ok.” I could see her through the crack in the door sitting on the bed, smiling, “ok, buzz me if you need” I assured her.

The 30 mins came and went, and Heidi walked him out the front door, “Are you ok? What the hell happened?” I interrogated her. She sighed with relief “I’m fine, he is just a f#$*ing weirdo, when I went into the room he was waiting behind the door and jumped on my back for a piggy back, scared the shit out of me”. “Holy crap, are you ok?”, “I’m totally cool, he didn’t hurt me, he was just really full on. The whole time he shagged me, he sang ‘I’m sexy and I know it'” she shook her head. I looked at her for a second then burst out laughing, “What? Like was he on top? or from behind??” I asked trying to get a visual, “On top” she giggled. I went and asked one of the other girls who stayed with him earlier in the week “Did he sing ‘Sexy and I know it’ as you had sex?”, “Ha ha ha, yeah, it was funny as!” she laughed.

This job is certainly a roller coaster ride, one minute the client has your heart in your mouth, the next laughing till you snort.



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The power of porn


Porn and brothels go hand in hand, I have yet to work at a brothel that didn’t have it playing, either in the room or the intro area. From a business point of view I think porn is a fantastic tool, however personally, having hot people having hot sex in your face all the time gets a little…..difficult. The last place you want to get the horn is at work, so I often overt my eyes, not because I’m offended but quite the opposite, if you know what I mean. Chosing the porn is very important too, you want it to be sexy enough to turn the men on, however in no way rough or bondage, no anal, and not too much kissing. You don’t want men to watch that just before a booking and think that holding a girl down by the throat while trying to get it in her bum is acceptable, it’s all about making things easier and safe for the girls.

In the city brothel I managed at they had a huge lounge with a giant movie screen on the wall that played porn continuously, which was double-edged sword. On one hand it helped get the men in the mood, making it difficult for those in two minds to leave the establishment without staying with lady. However, there were some men that would sit around for hours watching the porn, practically ignoring the women and their advances. I never actually understood these men, they had already paid for their booking so clearly they had every intention of staying, however it was like they were trying to get every last cent worth of their money. It cause great frustration for the girls as it was exhausting constantly making attempts to get their attention like dancing on the pole or getting handsy with another girl hoping to tantalize them.

One very busy friday night we had 5 men all sitting around the bar intently watching the porn, which I admit was rather good. Girls filed in to my office annoyed, “what is wrong with the friggen men?” they complained. I could hardly ask them to leave as they had all purchased time before even entering, it was simply a waiting game. A young guy in his early 20’s came in and paid for his time and eagerly entered the lounge. Within 2 minutes Josephine, one of the more vocal girls, came in to the office with the biggest smile on her face. “You’re not going to believe this kid, he came right up to me and said ‘Can I f#$@ you?’, I nearly fell over”. I paused for a second, is she offended or flattered? She went on, “I said ‘Of course, baby! You just showed these guys how a real man does it'”. As she repeated the story to others workers they all understood her appreciation of this young guys abruptness.

Josephine wasn’t insulted that he was so candid about his desire but flattered that he didn’t waste her time making her jump through hoops, saving her the energy of the hustle. I can only assume that Josephine made sure that client certainly got his moneys worth, giving him a great service. I dealt with those 5 men glued to the screen the only way I knew how…I turned the porn off, with in 5 minutes they were all in bookings.

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The “Marilyn Monroe” theory.

I don’t get a lot of time for television, however one show I can’t help but watch is “Smash”, a show about a broadway musical based on Marilyn Monroe’s life. It’s as cheesy as it is dramatic but the perfect escape. One of the underlying themes of the show is the men in Marilyn’s life and the over all effect they had on her as a person and her unfortunate demise.

Marilyn Monroe is, these days, a beacon of womanhood and female independence. Out of contexts quotes of hers thrown around on Facebook and twitter inspiring women, perhaps about our bodies or men and relationships, all with the greatest intentions. Yet Marilyn, I believe, ultimately was a product of the men in her life. Her conflicting desires of being loved for more than a sex symbol and the hunger for fame in a mans world made her love life a struggle. She was so desperate to be loved and accepted by the men she was with, it made her vulnerable and leaving her open to the multiple heart breaks. The damage that was made to her soul ultimately became more then she could handle and the world lost one of the most beautiful women we had seen.
I’m not one to generalise and can only speak for myself, but I do believe that a lot of women are like that, day by day being moulded by the men the come in and out of our lives. I have certainly suffered my share of heart break, right back to my father who was physically but not emotionally present, going my whole life with him never telling me he loved me. When I was 19yrs old I was engaged to a man 10 years my senior, manipulative and cruel, taking advantage of me then deciding on the drop of a hat that he no longer loved me. One of the more recent, my last boyfriend, quite possibly a sociopath, anal about recycling and filling his birdbath, unable to give a single ounce of affection and cheated on every woman he was with, including me.

Now I know that I quite possibly may never have met my current partner, who is as close to a soul mate as I will get, with out these experiences. I am not one to live with regrets, however what these men have left me with is a deep seeded feeling of unworthiness. That I am not worth love, respect and effort, that even if my own father can’t love me, how could anyone else. That I’m not worth being faithful too, that I’m not pretty enough, skinny enough or smart enough.

I work very hard on a daily basis to fight these feelings, to silence the voices of ghosts past. Sometimes, not very often, my brain is just tired, worn down by daily stresses of life and I just can’t fight anymore. I get down, unmotivated feeling like my very existence is something to be sorry for. Which is then compounded by being frustrated at myself, “how can I be so sad when I am so fulfilled??”.

Now I’m not looking for sympathy or pity, I am very lucky, I have a great man and family. I am able to pull myself out of the funk now, and in time those voices telling me I’m not worth it will fade. I will keep fighting and telling myself the truth, I am worth love and respect and I deserve every effort anyone ever makes for me. Like Marilyn, the people that flow in and out of our lives can shape us, but only we can control our own future.



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Fear is relative.

Large city brothels are run differently, they don’t do private introductions like suburban brothels, they function as lounge brothels. Lounge brothels are when the clients pay for their room up front or at least an entry fee of about $20, which generally covers drinks, pool tables and other facilities. The girls mingle with the clients walking around introducing themselves. This tends to be a lot more difficult for the girls as it involves a lot more hustle. Managing at one of these brothels on a Friday and Saturday night requires you to be a lot more brazen and strong, you are pretty much a door bitch, handling the men with confidence, not giving them an inch.

I have found myself in some very hostile situations, escorting men myself from premises after they have pushed the boundaries with a girl in the room, or they are so coked out of their heads or drunk they just start acting like jerks. I have had girls screaming their heads off at me telling me to “go f#@% yourself” and 6’5″ drunk biker man-handling me, offering me $1000 to stay with him and not taking no for an answer. All of these situations I ran on adrenaline and held myself together, however, I didn’t exactly feel fear. I knew I could control the situation with a bit of gusto and a bit of manipulation, but didn’t really feel scared or anxious.

None of those situations compared to the fear and anxiety I had today. I was asked by my partner to attend and video an award ceremony for his son that he couldn’t make it to, an award ceremony that his ex and mother of his children was quite possibly going to be at. Now understand this woman is a special kind of bitch, vindictive and manipulative, using the children as pawns to make my partner miserable. I desperately wanted to make my partner happy and am very supportive of any involvement with the children, however I sat there shaking, terrified of the possible confrontation with this unreasonable, irrational woman.

I sat staring forward, for fear of accidentally making eye contact with her until the ceremony was barely over, when I jumped up and practically ran from the school. I made it through unscathed, well I thought I did, until the inevitable hostile email came through to my partner………I guess I feel sorry for her, carrying around that toxic poison in her heart, life for her must be hard.


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