A network for women by women



Visit to a Brothel.

When I was twenty-one years old, I was in a rather well paid, high flying job. The gambling game. Obviously I had to dress, look, live, act etc. as a far older woman–. My boss, the owner/CEO found himself in a spot of trouble. The legal kind. So he decided to break it up into sections, and sell off the company.

With the sale progressing, a crazy thought entered my mind. No idea why it did but, it did. I wanted to see the dark side of humanity. Gambling is dark but, he was on the ‘big-bucks’ side of it. The only unsavoury side was the Racehorse betting (cash). I will write about that some time.

I had read enough on it to know the women in those places are abused. The worst kind as well. The soul destroying kind from which one never recovers. Nine out of ten times, their “choice” is not a choice at all but, a necessity to survive. Has anyone removed their hand from their mouth and ceased their ignorant and nasty whispering and actually ventured into one? Enter a brothel or as most prefer the name, Escort agency, and see the level of degradation for yourself?

Believe me, you will shut up, unless you are a Sociopath.

Bear in mind, I had done my research before travelling to see them, so I went during the day. Before they prepared themselves for an evening of unappealing work. The raw and bleeding flesh was presented. That is what I asked to see, not the end product. The ‘prettier’ sight. The reality was displayed. (I had previously contacted the owner, on the premise of me seeking an Escort for my employer’s weekend arrival. I had to choose an escort for him.)

I arrived at the brothel. Introduced myself, and was led into a darkened but, cosy room. Not what I thought I would see. I saw a stylishly and expensively designed room. The only quality I predicted and shown was the gaudy element. A few comfy sofa’s and coffee tables with stylish lamps perched atop decorated the carpeted room. The ladies then poured in and sat down. They smiled at me. I felt bad, as I was lying to them – yeah, I can lie but, never those BIG ones and only if I am lied to 😉 They never did. I convinced myself and stilled my heart. There was a reason, okay not the one I fed the ‘owner’ but, there was a reason. These sad ladies smiled and were friendly. They were all a lot younger than I am now and at that time, I led a dynamite life, but a fragile one (financially speaking). I had a choice.

They say, the eyes are the soul of one. Not for me, yes of course, the eyes are the first thing I see but, it is the entire face and mannerisms for me. They were unmade, their hair was not coifed or styled in any way. It was clean but, unattractively limp. Some were my age (then), some a bit older. All took my breath away. Not in a good way. Their blatant misery and sadness was etched all over their face. Despite them smiling, it was tangible. Only a complete fool could not see it and ignore it. I think make-up disguises that somewhat, and their demeanour changes. They are transformed into flirtatious sex kittens for a few hours. Is that why the men use them? They never see that deep sadness? Guilt never makes an appearance? Would they care if it did? Probably not, that is why only the glamourous side is shown to them.

To me, I am unable to understand how any human can take advantage of another when they are in that vulnerable state. They cannot be human then. Most looked like the average housewife you see almost every day and you know, just know they are feeding a family. Self-sacrifice. Yes, some will still scoff and say drugs are prominent in their life. Please wake up. You think making that decision is easy, and when that first night rolls in? To cope with a highly repulsive man, with a twisted personality and quite possibly reeking of alcohol. He covers their body with his flabby, sallow, smelly and sweaty one — their mind has to be somewhere else. Drugs deliver a powerful and swift escape but, in the end destroys them far sooner than the ‘Johns” do.

It sounds as if I am speaking of my direct experiences. No. However, I have had a few extremely unpleasant, wealthy and married men proposition me therefore my understanding goes a bit deeper. Their wealth gave them false bravado and arrogance. Nasty and mean men. Strip that wealth away, and they are merely something which crawled out of the gutter. I told them so. I suffered for that, temporarily but, their ego is forever bruised. I derive satisfaction in knowing that. I had that choice. These girls do not and have to tolerate that nonsense. So I had to write that bit as I want to dispel any notions creeping into your head. This is theirs. Their story.

I looked at each one and breathed them into my head, where they were free to swim around and tell me things. Things never shown but, I heard them. Poor, unfortunate women. Their sorrow made me want to cry.

I stood up, bid them farewell and left the room. I entered their ‘reception’ area. A man was standing there, chatting to the receptionist. He turned around as I exited the room reserved only for the working women. I entered the minimalistic foyer and he pointed his finger at me, “I want her!” I offered him a brief but, pitying smile and walked passed him. Thanked the receptionist and exited the agency/brothel. His abrupt words made me understand what they have to put up with, every day. He pointed me out like I was a slab of meat at the local butchery. Reducing me to the straw mat at his front door.

So to those who condemn them and say, “Their choice. They had a choice!” No, they did not. If you believe that, I advise you to show some courage and visit one. Shove your unfounded opinions into your pocket and grow an educated one. You will become aware of a new feeling and understand better. No person of free thought and actions will subject themselves to that life. You will realise, they were either born into it where the choice they had was simply between life and death. I suppose in that sense, they did have a choice and chose life. Or they were abused and “stolen” to work in that environment. Whatever the circumstances, you will be humbled further, and will never think of them in the same way again. You will see they are simply women. Women in the process of developing horrid scars on their soul and heart.

You will leave wishing you had a magic wand.


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