Archives for posts with tag: working girls

In the United Kigdom it is legal for adults (those aged 18 years and older) to engage in prostitution. Many of the activities associated with prostitution are, however illegal. For example one man or woman may work as a prostitute from premises, however where two or more individuals operate together (even if one of those persons is only taking bookings, answering the door etc rather than working as a sex worker) then the premises is classified as a brothel and those working there are breaking the law. In 2008 Sweden took the radical step of criminalising the purchasers of sexual services while leaving sex workers free to ply their profession without fear of arrest. In contrast to sex workers, their clients are (if convicted of paying for sex) subject to a fine and/or six months in prison. In 2009 Norway introduced similar legislation to that in Sweden.
The philosophy underpinning the legislation is that women are the weaker party and, as such they should be protected from men. According to this perspective men have no right to “buy women”. Women do not voluntarily choose to sell their bodies, consequently those who avail themselves of the services provided by sex workers are guilty of “exploiting” prostituted women. The Swedish law has been held up by British politicians such as the Labour MP Hariet Harman as a model which should be followed in the United Kingdom (it is not currently illegal to purchase sex in the UK provided that the person offering sexual services is 18 or older and he/she has not been forced into prostitution). Let us leave aside for a moment the issue of whether men (and women) should be criminalised for purchasing sexual services. Instead let us turn first to whether the law has the effect claimed for it by it’s proponents, namely making the lives of prostitutes safer by detering men from purchasing sex. According to a recent article in “The Local” the legislation enacted in norway has made the lives of sex workers more dangerous than was the case prior to the legislation coming into force
“The 2009 prostitution law prohibits the purchase but not the sale of sexual services, with legislators seeking to stymie the trade by targeting demand.

But the Pro Sentret report indicates that the law has in fact made prostitutes much more susceptible to violence at the hands of their clients as the sex
trade moves further underground.

What’s more, prostitutes have become less inclined to seek help since the law came into force, with many now perceiving that they too are viewed as criminals,
the report says.

Many of the women also said the new law had scared off many of their more reliable customers, while troublesome and violent clients were relatively undeterred.

According to the study, titled Farlige Forbindelser (Dangerous Liaisons), 59 percent of prostitutes in Oslo have fallen victim to some form of violence
in the last three years.

”Violence against women in prostitution is brutal and frequent,” said Ulla Bjørndahl at Pro Sentret.

”Often the violence is extreme. Eleven people have faced death threats, many have been threatened with weapons, or have been exposed to robbery, rape, or
were threatened into participating in non-consensual sex,” Bjørndahl told newspaper Dagbladet.” (see
The research for the report was carried out between January-March of 2012 and entailed interviews with 123 women engaged in prostitution. Those interviewed included street prostitutes, ladies working in flats and women selling sex in massage parlours. Consequently the researchers interviewed a representative sample of those engaged in prostitution and their findings should be treated seriously.
Turning to the issue of whether prostitution necessarily entails exploitation, the reaction of French intellectuals to the French government’s proposal to prohibit the purchasing of sexual services is instructive
“Responding, the intellectuals said any move to liberate women from sexual slavery or the clutches of organised crime would be welcome.

But they argued that talk of “abolishing” prostitution was based on “two debatable assumptions: that charging for sex is an affront to women’s dignity
and that all prostitutes are all victims of their bastard clients.”

They added: “A women who prostitutes herself, whether she does so occasionally or full-time, is not necessarily a victim of male oppression.

“And the clients are not all horrible predators or sexual obsessives who treat the woman as disposable objects.” (see
Precisely so, I couldn’t have put it better myself. The idea that all prostitutes are victims and all clients are “bastards” is rissible. Having used the services of escorts over a number of years I know that the ladies do in the overwhelming majority of cases freely choos to enter the world of escorting. No big bad pimp is threatening them with violence, they see easy money and they take it.
None of the above is intended to deny that prostitution can (and often does) have harmful effects on those who engage in it. Dig behind the smile and one often finds deeply damaged individuals. However there exist other equally damaged persons who choose not to engage in sex work. Again by no means all who engage in prostitution suffered abuse as children. Despite what some would have us believe prostitution is (in most cases) a freely entered into choice. It may not be (and in most instances it certainly isn’t) the first choice of the majority of those who engage in it. It is, however still a choice.


“Maria, lonely prostitute on a street of pain,
You, at least, hail me and speak to me
While a thousand others ignore my face.
You offer me an hour of love,
And your fees are not as costly as most.
You are the madonna of the lonely,
The first-born daughter in a world of pain.
You do not turn fat men aside,
Or trample on the stuttering, shy ones,
You are the meadow where desperate men
Can find a moment’s comfort.

Men have paid more to their wives
To know a bit of peace
And could not walk away without the guilt
That masquerades as love.
You do not bind them, lovely Maria, you comfort them
And bid them return.
Your body is more Christian than the Bishop’s
Whose gloved hand cannot feel the dropping of my blood.
Your passion is as genuine as most,
Your caring as real!

But you, Maria, sacred whore on the endless pavement of pain,
You, whose virginity each man may make his own
Without paying ought but your fee,
You who know nothing of virgin births and immaculate conceptions,
You who touch man’s flesh and caress a stranger,
Who warm his bed to bring his aching skin alive,
You make more sense than stock markets and football games
Where sad men beg for virility.
You offer yourself for a fee–and who offers himself for less?

At times you are cruel and demanding–harsh and insensitive,
At times you are shrewd and deceptive–grasping and hollow.
The wonder is that at times you are gentle and concerned,
Warm and loving.
You deserve more respect than nuns who hide their sex for eternal love;
Your fees are not so high, nor your prejudice so virtuous.
You deserve more laurels than the self-pitying mother of many children,
And your fee is not as costly as most.

Man comes to you when his bed is filled with brass and emptiness,
When liquor has dulled his sense enough
To know his need of you.
He will come in fantasy and despair, Maria,
And leave without apologies.
He will come in loneliness–and perhaps
Leave in loneliness as well.
But you give him more than soldiers who win medals and pensions,
More than priests who offer absolution
And sweet-smelling ritual,
More than friends who anticipate his death
Or challenge his life,
And your fee is not as costly as most.

You admit that your love is for a fee,
Few women can be as honest.
There are monuments to statesmen who gave nothing to anyone
Except their hungry ego,
Monuments to mothers who turned their children
Into starving, anxious bodies,
Monuments to Lady Liberty who makes poor men prisoners.
I would erect a monument for you–
who give more than most–
And for a meager fee.

Among the lonely, you are perhaps the loneliest of all,
You come so close to love
But it eludes you
While proper women march to church and fantasize
In the silence of their rooms,
While lonely women take their husbands’ arms
To hold them on life’s surface,
While chattering women fill their closets with clothes and
Their lips with lies,
You offer love for a fee–which is not as costly as most–
And remain a lonely prostitute on a street of pain.

You are not immoral, little Maria, only tired and afraid,
But you are not as hollow as the police who pursue you,
The politicians who jail you, the pharisees who scorn you.
You give what you promise–take your paltry fee–and
Wander on the endless, aching pavements of pain.
You know more of universal love than the nations who thrive on war,
More than the churches whose dogmas are private vendettas made sacred,
More than the tall buildings and sprawling factories
Where men wear chains.
You are a lonely prostitute who speaks to me as I pass,
And I smile at you because I am a lonely man.”

Your tight young body tempts me in but do you carry death within? We shag at night but is there something not quite right? I shoot my load, I’m not the first do you carry a secret curse? Your sweet poison soaks my naked cock, pleasure intense makes me rock. Your body is unblemished without a stain, but do you carry a deadly pain?

Our bodies entwined in my bed, I know not what thoughts fill your
head. Your skin is warm soft and near, but are “you” truly heare? Is
your mind in this place? No you inhabit another space.
Another guy pawing your intimate parts, something shrivels and dies
deep in your heart. Do you sense the pain I feel, or is your sadness
all that is real?
There is pleasure in your kiss, moving inside you brings temporary
bliss. You make me feel good for a while but as I fuck I die inside.
Prostitutes come and go the bliss of release fleeting as summer snow,
this pursuit of whores I must let go.

“Young girl looking for work” the advert on the internet said. I replied “kind, generous man looking to spoil a young lady” which was, I hoped subtle enough to intimate that I was looking for sex but not so crude as to cause offence to a girl looking for work other than escorting. The response came back “sure” and nothing more which made me think that the advertiser was inviting me to take a long walk off a short cliff, consequently I disregarded the reply. However, several days later I received a further e-mail simply saying “Hello”. Nothing ventured nothing gained I thought and responded that I was looking for a lady to take out to dinner etc. Again I hoped that my message would be subtle enough to indicate my wish for “personal services” without landing me in hot water by explicitly requesting sex.

A day later I received a text “Hi it’s Sara, you e-mailed me”. To cut a long story short, after the exchange of numerous texts Sara and I agreed to meet in central London for a meal. She explicitly got me to promise that I was only looking for companionship and with a twinge of guilt I gave that assurance.

The day arrived and I waited with some nervousness for Sara to arrive. As I stood in Victoria station I thought “is this a set-up? is she a time-waster? Will she arrive?” My phone rang, “It’s Sara, where are you?” I gave my location and was soon in the company of an attractive lady of British/Pakastani origin (Sara was born here but both her parents are from Pakistan).

Over dinner we both grew at ease in each other’s company. Sara had just turned 18 and it was an enormous turn-on for me to be in the company of an attractive 18-year-old.

Sara’s scent and her sweet girlie chatter was very erotic. This combined with the gorgeous scent she had on made me giddy with desire. I wanted to invite her to a hotel for, err “a massage”, however, as the bard says “conscience does make cowards of us all” and I held my tongue. God knows I wanted Sara. However it was a public place and I cringed at the prospect of a sceene where Sara to react badly to my “proposal”. In addition I was aware of my text in which I’d explicitly said that I was simply looking for company. I wouldn’t have been the first guy to lie about his intentions (or the first lady either)! but a wee small voice of conscience helped to stay my tongue.

We parted at Victoria and while travelling home I texted Sara about meeting, at my flat. She responded quickly and following some juggling of arrangements we agreed to meet on Friday evening.

On meeting Sara for the second time I was again struck by her sweet young teenage inocence. She had, had her purse stolen on the train and was most concerned about how to tell her grandfather about it (it was a present from him and Sara was concerned about how he would react). I found her concern touching and felt a stab of guilt that on reaching my flat I would try my level best to get Sara into bed with me.

Could Sara really believe that most men seeking the company of girls such as herself would be content simply to be seen parading around with an attractive young lady on their arm? I don’t know the answer to that question. On the one hand Sara is due to start university in the next month or so and one would hope that those with aspirations to higher education possess intelligence. However intellectual capacity is distinct from common sense so perhaps Sara was an inocent abroad in a world which she only dimly comprehends. On the other hand Sara told me that a friend of her’s (also 18) was meeting a guy, in London Bridge on the same day as our assignation. I asked her whether her friend provided services other than companionship to which Sara replied “no”. Perhaps her friend merely meets men for lunch but I had a feeling that she might well do more even if she failed to tell her friend Sara about the “extras” which she offered her clients. Again I have no way of knowing.

On reaching my flat and sitting together on the sofa I asked Sara if I could give her a hug to which she answered yes.

Later I asked whether Sara could give me a “non-sexual massage”. I know it sounds corney but that is in all truth what I asked! She agreed and we moved to my bedroom. I stripped to my boxer shorts and lay on the bed while Sara massaged my back. “Would you like anything else” she asked. “Massage my stomach please”. As Sara’s hands moved softly over my stomach I felt my penis stir  to life. I wanted to say “play with my dick” but instead I said in response to Sara’s question as to whether I wanted anything else, “massage my legs”. The pantomime continued with me desperately craving relief but asking Sara to “massage my arms”. Finally Sara said “I guess we’ve finished”. It was now or never. I stayed silent for what seemed an age then “Can you massage here” I said pointing to my penis. “No”. “I’ll give you £100 extra and another £50 if you take off your top and let me play with your breasts”. Sara paused I guess enduring her own moral inner conflict. Money won and she agreed. Sara was inexpert at masturbating guys so I took over and while Sara dug her nails into my nipples (which I adore) I pleasured myself with my right hand while stroking Sara’s firm young tits with the other.

When I came it was a blessed relief. In fact the best orgasm I’ve had for a long time. Part of it’s intensity came from having achieved my goal, having got a young lady to masturbate me.

As I write I have mixed emotions. I enjoyed the “massage” and would like to see Sara again, but did I spoil the inocence of a vunnerable young girl? Sara is an adult, however a girl of 18 is not, on the whole as mature as a lady in their mid to late twenties. She is not a child but she is girl-like in many respects and, to be honest this is part of her charm. Sara could have stuck to her initial resolution of “no” and I would, of course have respected that, however she chose to render extra services.

Maybe I am idealising Sara. I only know what she told me about herself, about her Muslim beliefs (she is a Muslim but wears no head scarf and uses perfume and puts on high heels). However I feel that there is an essential honesty about Sara. She is, in essence young and inocent but, as I write this a smile creases my face (am I being naive and self-deluding I ask myself)?

Yesterday evening (19 July)I was robbed by a working girl who advertises her services on using the name mercbaby or mercedes. I had booked mercbaby for one hour at a cost of £120. At just gone 9 pm mercbaby arrived and I handed her the money in cash. Mercedes told me that in line with her usual practice she would hand the money to her driver and return to keep me company for an hour. Mercbaby left to hand the money to the driver and I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of her since! Of course I’ve tried contacting Mercbaby but both my telephone calls and texts have gone unanswered. I’ve also contacted adultwork (the site on which mercbaby/mercedes advertises), however they just arn’t interested in the fact that a criminal offence has been committed. It is, according to adultwork a case of “buyer beware”!
To anyone tempted to book mercbaby I’d say think again! If you want a quality personal service there are many honest working girls out there willing to bring a smile to your face but there are also ladies such as mercbaby who are only interested in stealing from you. Don’t touch mercbaby with a bargepole, in fact don’t touch her with anything, steer well clear if you value your money and personal possessions.
I would link to mercbaby’s profile page on so that potential clients know who to avoid, however I understand that this violates WordPress’s terms and conditions, however anyone who Googles “mercbaby” will find her profile. Be warned, steer well clear!

In “When the Sun Goes Down” the Arctic Monkeys sing about the
unglamorous world of street prostitution where violence lurks just
below the surface “… he’d rob you if he can …” (refering to the
pimp) It is a world in which “there all infected” and girls stand on
street corners, in skimpy clothing waiting for punters. For the song
please visit