The Crown bust and illegal sex – wealthy, powerful men and illegal sexual involvement with girls, and here we are again.
The past week has held my attention with the Crown Casino debacle as more scandal comes to light. Being in my neighbourhood, it’s been all over the news, and of course involves my heartland, China, so it was quick to grab my interest on a few fronts. The main issue is around promoting gambling at Melbourne’s Crown Casino in China, where the promotion of gambling is against the law. And of course, the trafficking of women for sex is involved in the mix too. I say ‘of course’ because sex trafficking often seems to come hand in hand with great wealth and power.
The six-month investigation was carried out jointly by 60 Minutes, The Age and the Sydney Morning Herald. They discovered that one of the men paid to lure Chinese high rollers to Crown was involved in the sex industry and an alleged money launderer. During the time this person has been what’s known as a “Junket Representative to Crown Casino”, his business was involved in illegal sex work activity and several sex trafficking investigations and played host to Casino guests.
I’m sure Crown corporate representatives were perfectly aware of his colourful sex trafficking history but turned a blind eye to it, due perhaps to the value of the high roller clients he introduced to Crown. In fact, some of the many junkets Crown has been working with are allegedly controlled by Asian crime syndicates, including one of the world’s biggest drug trafficking gangs, involved in laundering money through Crown’s bank accounts, and importing drugs into Australia.
Now, we will, or perhaps will not ever, get to the bottom of this; it appears several high ranking present and past lawmakers, from both sides of politics, appear to be like deer in headlights, and will no doubt do all they can to have us believe “there’s nothing to see here, move on.” There are enormous tax revenues, political donations and even friendly Board appointments that may be at risk by what could be unearthed by any serious investigation. Not to mention potential criminal behaviour by any number of characters that are, as far as their reputation represents, pillars of our society.
Despite my, and the community’s, disgust at the apparently rampant corruption by powerful people, my interest is in the sex trafficking activities that appear to be involved. As those who read my commentaries will know, I’m a passionate advocate for action to wipe this scourge from society and through my charity, to work in my own small way to save at least a few children from this grim fate, as well as raise awareness among others who will join me to bring a halt to this inhumanity.
What I find particularly interesting in this latest scandal is that sex trafficking and wealthy, powerful men again seem to go hand in hand. I have literally just written about Epstein and his illegal sexual involvement with underage girls, and here we are again. This time it involves drugs and casinos too.
It makes me wonder whether rich and well-connected people really do think they are invulnerable, and our laws just don’t apply to them. Do they really feel they are so all-powerful and self-important, that they lose sight of even a basic moral decency?
Is something also going on at the chemical level? These people are often thrill-seekers by nature and have a strong need for that adrenaline rush. Not afraid to take risks, they work hard and smart, are not afraid to turn on the charm when required, are attracted to mega-deals for self-promotion and end up with control over a lot of money. Already with a preference toward risky behaviour and the various protections afforded them by wealth and friends, they enjoy activities that feed their egos. Does engaging in illegal sexual activity spike their adrenalin so they think nothing of making this possibility available for others who can pay for the “ultimate thrill”? I don’t know about you, but this reminds me a bit of “they love you for your wealth, you don’t need to do anything, you can grab their pussy…”
Now we are not only talking about wealthy, important business people and Presidents, but pop stars, athletes and entertainers — really anyone drunk on sycophancy, power and wealth. Many seem to believe they have their own set of rules, and the law that applies to the rest of us isn’t for them. The problem with wealthy and famous people like this is that obstacles are simply removed for them by others. Their drink too warm, their tax too high, their clothes too tight, their house too small, their bed too lonely – no problem. Nothing is too much of a problem if you have enough money to pay for it, even protection from realistic views of the world. They are oblivious, or uncaring, of the fact that their rules only apply to everything and everyone in their orbit, immune from the consequences of their actions and to society’s laws because they are rich, powerful or famous.
Society commentators have put forward ideas that, for example, visiting a brothel would be a proper compromise for these people’s sexual aberrations, but I think the reality isn’t about sex itself at all. These sociopaths — and let’s call them out for what they are — are looking for scenarios that will provide them with more power to fuel their ego and forcing sex onto a person or paying underage girls for sex is what does it. This is completely different to paying a willing adult for a legal sexual encounter.
These people break the law while turning their backs on any moral recriminations about feeling guilty for the harm they cause, or showing any remorse for having harmed or mistreated others. The Crown debacle is bringing more people to the surface who meet this description.
It’s a repudiation of good faith as well as good governance that a business corporation like Crown that trumpets its vision that: “Together we create memorable experiences by acting respectfully, being passionate, working together and doing the right thing” can stand accused of betraying this lofty-sounding vision so abysmally.
Visit Lily Yang for more social commentary, her published books and charity work.
This article was first published on Medium
My dreamy night with Sigmund Freud – should we give up our sensuality and sexiness for equality and safety?
I silently cursed him for shaking me awake; it was almost 4.00 am and until then I’d been enjoying a full surround-sound mental movie. Bleary-eyed, I sleepwalked to my computer. My fingers ignored the rules of grammar, continuity and spelling in their haste to capture our night together as I free-associated the stream of thoughts that poured onto the screen from a dream so vivid, I knew I must write down before it was lost. Then I stumbled back into bed, exhausted from the effort.
For the next 3 days I stared at my third-grade essay. Slowly, the symbols began their metamorphosis as consciousness grappled to apply its rules of logic and order. I recognised straightaway the places and everyday things he’d sequestered from my unconscious, like a baffling Sudoku to add potency and reality to his dream-work: a sofa from my shop, some surgical gloves used in the kitchen, some female faces I knew, the biography of an Indian I’d been reading. Even the Assembly Room from primary school, complete with its glass and wood panelled wall, copied faithfully from an old childhood photograph I’d just unearthed in our attic as my husband and I had been rummaging through our histories. My dream remains haunting to me, even now, as I search for a deserving narrative to link the elements to each other.
A boy and a girl are growing up together in a small town; they’ve been friends since infancy, more like a brother and sister. As they become young adults, their platonic friendship also matures as adult physical changes and emotions rise to the surface. He senses them but is not ready; I see he’s afraid to reveal these new feelings he has towards her. For her, she’s more emotionally aware and is wishing, hoping, he will touch her, kiss her, but she’s always disappointed by his crippling shyness.
There is an intense sadness as I watch him struggle with his torment and the sinking desperation of her slipping away, knowing he’s incapable of reaching across to embrace what he knows she wants from him. Eventually another man, a stranger, arrives in the town; he’s from the big city. She’s immediately drawn to him; he knows the ways of the world and she’s attracted by this novelty, so different from her past experiences.
Now she’s sitting on a large circular sofa, with others, but he’s watching from a distance. The stranger comes over, he’s tall, he touches her face. Oddly, he’s wearing blue surgical gloves. He kisses her lips; she’s warm and affectionate in return, embracing him. Next, she’s sitting in a corner, he tries to pluck up the courage to approach her but before he can, another girl goes over and starts talking to her. He knows his moment is lost. She looks at him and I sense her despair.
This worldly stranger has displaced him; he’s an innocent whose innocence is losing him his lifelong friend, who is moving into a different life. He’s crushed as she reluctantly turns her head away from him and towards the stranger. In a sad gesture he tells her he’s leaving the town and begs her to go with him. She says she’s going to the council to register her home for water, and she’ll allow the stranger to live there. He decides he’ll go to the council office for her, but she says she’s already been there and shows him a piece of white paper with the details. It is too late.
Next, he’s leaving. He walks down a corridor past the glass panelled wall of the community hall, and he sees her through the glass in a circle of dancers in the Assembly Room. Was the stranger there too? He supposes so. She looks up and sees him, and I feel her intense sadness again. Her voice falters momentarily from the hymn they are singing. He keeps walking, hoping she has seen him in his desolation, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps walking, not even looking back. Now there is talk of the Indians massing, led by Geronimo, and people are concerned. Maybe he leaves or maybe he stays now on hearing this news.
Finally, I’m walking back into the town and there’s a burning carcass hanging there. But everyone is dead. There’s an overwhelming feeling of happiness as a relief column arrives, even though there seems to be only me left. I’m walking among some unmarked gravestones, looking for something. I don’t know if the grave I’m looking for is of the stranger and the girl, or if it’s the grave of the young man I’m seeking, or something else. There are no names. And then I’m awake. It is very powerful.
Like all dreams, this one is open to many interpretations and, except for some standard archetypes most people could find, like the mandalas, the corner, the water and the burning carcass, it’s only meaningful to me and my own situation if it’s to make sense. Each time I’ve reflected on this dream, additional clarity becomes attached to the personal symbols my mind painted for me. Like the blue gloves: now they seem like those of a doctor wanting to take care of the girl, like she needs protection, or he does from her. Like the Indians: now they seem like a metaphor for a sweeping change, of killing off old ideas.
These interpretations make sense to me because I’m Chinese and grew up in a culture where women traditionally have looked after their men and been looked after in return. Now, as a businesswoman, like many other Chinese expatriates living distant from 5000 years of filial tradition, I’m now called upon to set the standards and direction in my own business for others to follow, to defend what I do, as well as form and express my opinions as a blogger, social commentator and writer. In this way, my dream is one of affirmation of my new self as a strong, independent woman and for the changes I have brought about in my life. And I like that affirmation.
We Chinese have been credited with spawning that well-known aphorism: “May you live in interesting times”. In truth, it’s more of a curse than a blessing as we prefer living in “uninteresting times”, by which we Chinese mean living a tranquil and peaceful life. But for women generally, they are interesting times indeed for us, as we strive to be “treated as equals” in everything we do, from equal pay to equal opportunity, to being safe walking home from the train station and in our own homes. We’ve come a long way in some, less far in others.
Do dreams really reveal anything to us?
We Chinese would have ceased to be a civilisation thousands of years ago without our beliefs in omens, fate and supernatural beings. We’re still a superstitious bunch, so finding guidance in dreams is almost second nature to many of us. So, does my dream offer anything beyond its meaning for me that others might find interesting and, importantly, useful?
Firstly, my dream tells me it would be an enduring shame for us women to give up our aura of sensuality and sexiness in pursuit of goals of equality and safety. Our much-vaunted “feminine wiles” have been celebrated in literature for centuries, even given as reasons for the historical achievements of some powerful women, from Salome to Simone de Beauvoir, from Wallis Simpson to Wendy Deng. What great role-models these women are: strong, confident, independent and powerful despite living in a male-dominated world. Let’s forget the idea those are undesirable female traits, unless you happen to be a man threatened by powerful, sensual women, and let’s not replace them with male-style aggressive approaches. These traits are the genetically coded gifts from natural selection we’re endowed with, and we should beware because they are under attack on several fronts: from “feminists” with their distorted view of equality, to men in powerful places with their distorted sense of entitlement. It doesn’t take a dream to tell me that, only to remind me from time to time.
By the way, I don’t hear anyone seriously asking men to give up their gender-specific macho instincts as they trample their way to the top of the dung-heap over the wrecked lives they leave in their wake. If the newspapers are to be believed, many are worshipping them as political messiahs and business heroes, despite their appallingly misogynous, pathological behaviour.
Secondly, I neither believe women are children who need protecting, nor do I believe men and women need equality, at least in the way men fear and feminists demand with their barely veiled hatred of men and sexuality. I, for one, do not recognise myself in this perversion of femininity. I am firmly in the camp of vive le différence and I love the views recently expounded by people like French actor Catherine Deneuve in her letter to Le Monde, calling for a more nuanced view on how to tackle sexual harassment than the one championed by the #MeToo zealots.
She wrote that: ‘I will certainly not defend Harvey Weinstein. I have never had much consideration for him, but what is happening on social networks around it, is excessive.’ She went on to say that a woman can, in the same day, lead a professional team and enjoy being the sexual object of a man without being a “promiscuous woman” or a vile accomplice of patriarchy.
‘Rape is a crime,’ she says, ‘but insistent or clumsy flirting is not, nor is gallantry a chauvinist aggression.’ And I heartily agree. She and several other French women argue that movements like #MeToo have used social media as a “kangaroo court” — judge, jury and executioner on sexual conduct — by publicly denouncing private experiences and seeking to create a totalitarian rape-culture.
The American writer Claire Berlinski is another at odds with such outraged feminism and calls the #MeToo movement: ‘a frenzied extrajudicial warlock hunt that does not pause to parse the difference between rape and stupidity’ and ‘a classic moral panic, one that is ultimately as dangerous to women as to men.’
They contend that the #MeToo movement has led to a campaign of public accusations that have placed undeserving people in the same category as sex offenders with no opportunity to defend themselves. This expedited justice has already claimed its victims, guilty or not: men barred from their profession, or forced to resign, while the only thing they did wrong was touching a knee, trying to steal a kiss, or speaking about “intimate” things at a work dinner or in text messages.
The feminist response, booming from their moral pulpit, has been contemptuous of Ms. Deneuve and her friends, believing they are only too happy to please their men and for being too accepting of their whims. It seems that not only are relationships between men and women bordering on a state of war, the battle-lines between radical feminists and women who revel in the ambiguity and charm of relationships between men and women, are also being drawn.
Ultimately, it may be this is as much a culture war, as a shouting match. The recent Golden Globes ceremony being a case in point where, mostly American women, turned up in black with their “Time’s Up” pins, daring anyone who might oppose their views to risk being branded a traitor or condoning sexual assault. We Chinese, and from what I understand, the Europeans like Ms. Deneuve, prefer to think in shades of grey, that things like sensuality, for example, are not the stark black and white these radical feminists see; a polarising view which seems to leave things like sensuality defined as some logical concept, which is really just another way of denying it exists.
The Harvey Weinsteins of the world are an aberration, a serious one it must be said, but like all aberrations will eventually be scoured from our everyday lives like National Socialism, polio and cigarettes as the community demand these changes.
But, ladies and gentlemen, when did we lose the marvelous idea that, for better or worse, seduction is a harmless and pleasurable game, dating back to our earliest classical literature, not to mention being fundamentally healthy to our souls? It has for generations lent a layer of sophistication and harmony to our human interactions; the joy of reading sensual literature allows us to feel exalted and to live on a higher plane.
Are we truly heading in a direction when this is to be thought of as past its time in the new age of a newly defined equality? The idea of burning books has a nasty pedigree and I hope even the most radical feminists are not suggesting this is the end game for them.
I will leave you in the sensuous hands of Simone de Beauvoir: ‘On the day when it will be possible for woman to love not in her weakness but in her strength, not to escape herself but to find herself, not to abase herself but to assert herself — on that day love will become for her, as for man, a source of life and not of mortal danger.’
Personally, I would hate to see another tenet of a civilised existence fall by the wayside. Vive le différence.
Visit Lily Yang for more social commentary, her published books and charity work.
This article was first published on Medium
One of the biggest mysteries in the world of relationships is why do men in serious and committed relationships stray when they can get sex right there in their own backyard.
For those, like me, who are fascinated by this seemingly self-destructive behaviour, we could study the work of the early psychiatrists like Sigmund Freud, who thought it was a symptom of what he called the “Madonna/whore syndrome”. Sigmund was the pioneer of psychoanalysis and a man driven by theories of unconscious childhood urges lurking just beneath our veneer of social morality. He proposed the answer lay in the way men divided women into two types: the wives and mothers of their children (picture-perfect angels of purity), and the raw, lust-filled harlots who were only good for one thing, which was to satisfy the pent-up desires of men, thus protecting their wives from their unseemly ravages of desire. I suppose the idea of cheating never really came up as a problem. The theory went that men chose one type to marry, the other type to have raunchy sex with on the side, and that everyone should be pleased with the arrangement. Especially, no doubt, the men.
Sigmund Freud was a man of his times. Come the present era of female “liberation and equality” and we don’t look at things in quite the same way, though perhaps the vestiges of his ideas still linger in the unconscious mind. Some people, again mostly men I suspect, believe a better solution to the stigma now attached to cheating might be for us women to act more “erotic” and “uninhibited” with them if we want to prevent our men from straying. With a bit less the Lady and a little more the lascivious libertine, if you like, our men would do us the honour of their monogamous attentions. A little more of a scrub-up occasionally and an appreciative word in our ear occasionally might, in response, also keep our own eyes from wandering – an interesting topic for another post!
Others discuss the desirability of re-visiting the good old days when Freud’s theories held sway. Especially with the pressure-cooker environment we all live in. But I wonder whether it’s again time to accept the wonderful social role of the prostitute to ease the stresses of long hours, time-poor recreation and, let’s face it, the general loss of interest that happens with just living together for so long?
Like most people, you may not have considered this novel proposition very deeply but go with me on this for a little longer. A prostitute could be just the therapy people need to save their failing marriages. With one constructive move, partners could completely sidestep the problems of affairs and bring back the sizzle they both had in those heady, can’t-keep-your-hands-off- each-other days. Remember those? The possibilities are endless, and both husband and wife could benefit from someone telling them what they could both do better in the bedroom. By hiring a prostitute to watch the action and give them pointers, it would be much like a coach correcting a golf swing or a bad yoga position. Plus, a little competition in the bedroom during the practicum would undoubtedly get her wanting to lift her game and him, happy to contribute to their mutual domestic debauchery.
A seasoned, worldly-wise prostitute could easily correct those little misunderstandings that lead to large divorce settlements, thus in effect the exercise is, as it were, a terrific investment. Once the wife sees all the tricks that drive him wild, that spark would ignite her competitive side and she’ll be vying for his affections like a teenager at a Justin Bieber concert. He would likely never want to leave the house, let alone run to the charms of another. I could even be doing myself out of a job…
Also, there’s always that lingering “housewife” epithet, that seems, unfairly, to carry such negative connotations. It may be that the wife doesn’t work, staying at home and having children to raise, but it’s really starting to set a bad role-model example for a teenage daughter. This alone could be the catalyst for seeking “professional guidance”. The last thing any caring parent wants is a daughter growing up thinking a man is going to take care of her all her life.
You’ll want her to know the value of an honest day’s work. Getting a prostitute running around the house will set that perfect example of a strong, independent working woman for a daughter that she so desperately needs.
It’s high time to look past the touchy-feely counselling remedies we’ve grown too comfortable with lately: the psychologists, social workers and those facilitated circles of whiners who all seem to think a few hours baring your soul to another bunch of similarly afflicted souls will actually help anything.
I think we should look to the past to find a way to navigate the complexities of our modern relationships. Thanks to the likes of pioneers like Freud, we can find real solutions to the problems that bedevil healthy marital relationships, while also avoiding the mental dilemmas about having affairs. Surprisingly, we can find a modern, practical solution from the oldest profession in the world.
Visit Lily Yang for more commentary, her books and charity work.
Originally published on Medium
My last few blog posts have been quite serious in nature, and whilst these were very necessary to share, I thought I would lighten the mood a bit and share my personal top suggestions in finding the right “house of sin,” before you waste that precious hour of your life you will never get back.
When we find an establishment that really impresses us with their service, we’re keen to keep going back because we’ve found a gem, rather than going somewhere else. When I was at the hairdresser recently, my hair stylist was telling me she and her family always go to the same Bali destination every year because they always have such a great time. ‘Why risk the possibility of having a disappointing time somewhere else?’ she asks, and of course she’s right. Also, note that she is my hair stylist. That’s right, like so many other women, once I’ve found the right one who really understands my hair, seldom will I venture to a different salon and stylist.
The same could be said of brothels. Usually visitors will become regular guests at The Cherry Tree Garden and sometimes even to a particular lady here. But everyone has a first time and, of course, not everyone lives in the vicinity of our fine establishment. So, how do you know that the brothel you have set your sights on visiting is worth your time and money? Here are five great ideas to get you started:
NUMBER FIVE: Doing your homework
With most other products and services, you can just ask family members and friends if they have any suggestions based on experience. We understand that this time it may be a bit more awkward to do that, so you may need to revert to social media and Google reviews. Happy customers will be only too pleased to leave glowing reports without even been asked to do so – or whether they may have been unhappy with the service they received and why. So, see what other customers say, particularly recently. There may also be online forums and directories if you Google “best brothels (and name of your city.)” Very hardworking, altruistic folk have voluntarily taken it upon themselves to go out and sample the sexual delights of various cities and then make best-of lists, complete with reviews. Those poor people. At least read what these Samaritans have been able to report back on, after their ordeals from this awful calling in life.
NUMBER FOUR: Breathing the atmosphere
First impressions do matter. As you walk in the door, does the place feel like a 5-star hotel or a cheap backpacker’s hostel? Do the staff and ladies look genuinely happy and friendly or do they look like they are there without wanting to be, complete with painted-on smiles, or without the smile at all in some cases? Do you get a sense they are all treated with respect, or like doormats? The establishment itself doesn’t have to resemble a 5-star hotel but it shouldn’t resemble a house of horrors. Brothels are the closest you will get to a fantasy world, you should get the vibe that everyone is happy to be there, enjoy the process of helping to create yours, and want you to come back. If you don’t feel comfortable just being there, how are you going to feel relaxed enough to “perform” later? Don’t expect it will get better if you persist, it probably won’t.
NUMBER THREE: Making your decision
Which brings me to the next point. In all brothel visits, you should be given the opportunity to meet each available girl, one at a time, in comfort and privacy. In the better establishments you will be shown to a private lounge area where you can relax and meet each lady, who will come in, introduce herself and have a chat with you. This is also your opportunity to ask about your particular sexual preferences and see if she is willing to accommodate, and if so, for how much.
If you find yourself shown to a lounge area with other guests all sitting around avoiding eye contact with each other, I would not blame you for leaving quickly. It would not be comfortable seeing your boss, or neighbour, sitting opposite you (unless you arrived together and he’s paying!). Also, this type of set-up means that the girls will make their introductions and it’s then a free-for-all to step in and book your amourbefore someone else gets in first. If you’re more the type who carefully considers your decisions, and of course why shouldn’t you in such a personal scenario, then you are likely to be left behind by fleeter footed – or more demonstrative – guests seeking their own pleasures.
NUMBER TWO: The Women Themselves
Next I invite you to consider the ladies themselves. Do you feel absolutely stoked that these beauties not only want to be around you, but want to have sex with you too? Do they make you feel special right from the start? Or do they look like their guinea pig died, their car was keyed and its Monday, all at once? Do they look drugged up, disinterested or glassy-eyed? Are you feeling concerned for them, rather than feeling like you want to bang them? If so, this is your cue to make your excuses and leave, not to take on the role of St Michael the Archangel. If she can’t make you feel amazing whilst making social chit-chat, how on earth will she do that when she is trying to seduce you for sex?
AND NUMBER ONE? Is it a legal brothel?
Or is it a seedy looking “massage shop”. You do know that those venues are illegal in many parts of the world, and definitely so in Victoria, Australia, right? Well, unless they do genuinely offer therapeutic massages from certified staff. The thing is, the terminology is not actually what’s important here. The venue you’re visiting needs to be approved and licensed to provide sexual services, and you should choose only these venues. The legal establishments protect your sexual health, eliminate the risk of arrest and help curtail the ghastly sex traffickers forcing young girls into sex in illegal shops. If it’s not licensed, you could be unwittingly supporting sex trafficking crimes by voting with your feet and with your money (or genitals, as it were.) Seriously though, you may not be personally spending time with a child who is performing sex under duress, but if the venue is discovered by cops and raided, you are going to be arrested too; it’s not a good look seeing yourself in the local media, or making an awkward phone call to get yourself bailed, especially for hanging out at an illegal sex venue involved in trafficking children. Whether you know it or not, you are supporting the darker and downright more criminal sides to this industry, so it is very important you do your homework and make sure you are only doing business with legal enterprises.
Melbourne is incredibly lucky to have the best regulated sex industry in Australia and there are legal brothels catering for all tastes. This Top 5 comprises the main considerations to ensure a great experience at a brothel, but of course there are some others that you may choose to consider too. Things like secure and discreet parking (who wants to park their very familiar car right outside the neon sign that says HOT GIRLS FOR SEX HERE.) Are the reception staff helpful and friendly and do they make you feel welcome, or are you an interruption to their game of Solitaire on their phone? Are your questions about various optional extras handled professionally or are they just dismissed?
And finally, are you bid a warm farewell with a sweet promise for next time whispered in your ear?
It is, and should be, a fantasy experience and with a handy list like this, there should be no excuse for a wrong choice and disappointing brothel experience.
Have fun exploring!
Previously published on Medium
Why are these monsters beyond the reach of the law and can enjoy the protection that wealth affords them?
It should not come as any great surprise that Jeffrey Epstein has been charged with abusing girls as young as 14; he’s a serial trafficker of underage girls. He was accused over the weekend of paying underage girls hundreds of dollars to come into his various homes in New York and Florida and give “massages”, between 2002 and 2005. The 66-year-old hedge fund manager was arrested as he arrived in the US from a trip to Paris. It’s about time.
It appears he also provided the sexual services of his victims to his mates, for fun or for favours, many of whom are in positions of great power. Under the media’s gaze they are now scurrying down their boltholes or looking like deer caught in headlights. Or like rats leaving a sinking ship might be more apt.
Reading more of the details is horrifying. Apparently, hundreds or even thousands of photos of girls were found in his home and now are part of the evidence. In an earlier plea bargain, this monster served just 13 months in jail, with day release, for his admitted crimes to date in what is now being seen as a travesty of justice, facilitated by friends in high places. He has made dozens of financial settlements with victims in the past for soliciting and procuring a person under 18 for sex; chump change for this billionaire. Now, hopefully and finally, he’s facing around 45 years in jail. But don’t hold your breath.
Epstein is enormously rich. His social circle of sleazy friends includes Donald Trump, Bill Clinton, Prince Andrew and many other unsavoury celebrities in the political, legal and entertainment industries now in the spotlight for their reprehensible behaviour. These new charges will no doubt be an enormous blow to Epstein, and I hope some of his wealthy mates on the so-called “Lolita Express” – his private jet used to ferry influential men to debauched parties with female children – may be feeling decidedly nervous about what revelations are waiting to surface.
But it gets me wondering: why do these types of allegations tend to float around men who are super-rich, lingering about them like a putrid smell? Is it because of their wealth that they feel they are invulnerable? Why do they feel they want to do things that are so far outside the realm of what most of us would consider normal? As an example, who can forget Trump’s obnoxious bragging: ‘I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab ’em by the pussy. You can do anything.’ When the most powerful man on the planet can joke about his crimes with impunity, what hope really exists for the victims, or for change.
Another, more sinister, reason, comes to mind. Perhaps it’s more of a “keeping up with the Jones’” mentality. Even a sort of peer pressure. Is there a desire to brag to your friends? The more beautiful women, the younger, the less willing? That you can pay these women to do anything? A naked photo, a massage, then what? The problem is a 14-year-old girl might be happy to do anything for a few hundred dollars, but then how does she feel about herself when she is older and wiser? She may have made a choice she regrets. The point is as a society we have determined that 14 is too young to make these types of decisions. Imagine how much damage you may have done to the psyche of this woman as an adult. Do Epstein and his cohorts even care? Again, I suggest you don’t hold your breath waiting for a mea culpa.
The reality should be that nobody is above the law, no matter how wealthy or famous they are, that they can’t buy off the law. But that isn’t really true. Now Epstein will face the music and his wealth or private jet, we trust, won’t save him any longer, but it will be a tortured accounting that may or may not see this monster jailed. The prosecutors say that these underage girls he ruined deserve to have their day in court and have him answer their questions. The reason why they agreed to going to his house is not relevant. He should never have asked. But it will be necessary for these brave women to confront the best defence that money can buy, and triumph, before much will change. We can only wish them well in that ordeal.
It’s time this picture of privilege and entitlement being a passport to depravity was changed. Because it’s not defensible to commit these heinous offences and it’s certainly not acceptable bragging about it to your rich mates. It’s cruel and illegal. I am sure the very wealthy have better and more beneficial things to do with their fortunes. If they want a buzz, then at least find an activity that is not harming innocent, vulnerable people in the process. There is no embarrassment to being wealthy, it’s what you do with your fortune that matters.
Like the rest of the sane world, I will follow this story in the hope this disgusting human being and his cronies never cast their evil shadow over civilised society again.
I recently decided that what the world needs is a “Dear Abby” concept for the millennium, and as an experienced sex industry commentator and author, I’m perfectly placed to offer my infamous tongue-in-cheek responses to the great many love, sex and relationship dilemmas of these times.
We can all acknowledge that a lot has changed since Abigail Van Buren (or “Dear Abby” as we knew her) started to make waves in the American media back in 1956. The idea was also adopted by British media, where Dear Abby and other middle-aged women took on the role of Agony Aunts and the image presented was originally of an older woman dispensing comforting advice and maternal wisdom, hence the name “aunt.”
Whilst this concept is still alive and well in various women’s media outlets today, I do wonder how practical these snippets of advice really are, and how entertaining the column itself is to the reader in this 5 second attention span age we live in. And that’s why I went ahead and launched my own. Except mine is a spicy version that tackles the spectrum of our first-world problems and all the trappings of our modern comfortable lives that bring on the dilemmas we face today.
Technology and social media tends to add complications to our romantic and sex lives, rather than making our lives easier – as well as exposing the foibles of the rich and famous to us all, in an instant, making it a wonderful forum for satire.
Back in the 50’s and 60’s people wrote in with much simpler concerns, such as daughters caught kissing while still in their teens, or wives wondering why they weren’t allowed to pay the bills. Today, everyone wonders whether a ‘like’ on a photo automatically means an invite for a booty call, and how to interpret a text message from the guy you had your eye on.
I am fascinated by the courtship dance humans do, and especially how technology has transformed dating and mating in today’s world to produce the most interesting love life concerns among young and old alike. For example, I’m often struck by the absurdity of relationships. It’s almost as if our search to be in one, to stay in one, or to escape from one drives our every thought, while we lurch from one notable failure of understanding to the next – while our partner and sometimes the rest of the world looks on in bemusement.
What a fantastic idea! So, “Dear Lily” was born, not to be the Oracle of Delphi, but to hold up a mirror to the vicissitudes of life… and of course with my tongue planted firmly in my cheek.
A handful of Dear Lily’s finest are below, and the rest can be found on my website or on my Medium blog profile.
Q *New* Dear Lily: I’m Irish and have fallen in love with a man I met online. His name is Seamus Mgumbo O’Flaherty, also Irish, and he lives in Nigeria. I can’t believe I’m so lucky! Unfortunately, he was involved in an accident and asked me to loan him money for his hospital bill (his wallet with his insurance card was stolen he told me). Of course, I helped him with $40,000. Now the hospital wants another $50,000 for more emergency surgery and he wants me to fly there with the cash – also as he says, to meet for the first time and get married. I’ve booked my flight, but do I need any vaccinations? – Happy in love
A. Dear Happy: Do you realise how many scams are run out of Nigeria? Why on earth are you giving money to a total stranger and… No, wait. Nigeria is the most dangerous place on earth for violent robberies of gullible…No, wait. This man is no more Irish than Bill Cosby and is going to… Wait. You know what? The weather’s nice there, just get a flu shot. You’ll be fine.
Q. *New* Hi LiLy: I am Lou, a 1% er and I have a problem. My sexual prowess has reached a spiritual state of ecstasy going 4 to 8 hours, I cannot find a partner that can handle me. Do you know of any women that can match my superhuman sexual domination? – Lou
A. Dear Lou: (or should I say “oh, Transcendental One”?) I’m all for the support of your sexual ecstasy as you seek to enhance the temporal and spiritual welfare of your fellow-men (or women in your case) — whether it comes from the glorious union with god or from a nice bottle of Johnnie Walker Black and Ice doesn’t really bother me. I’m sure my fallen angels would blissfully bring you into their sensual fold. I trust your bank account has the same heavenly dimensions as your organ.
Q *New* Dear Lils: People say I still look great in gold hot-pants but like you I’m getting beyond bar-hopping, thank god. The shallowness of the social media gene-pool, and the weirdos and desperadoes that hang around me, just makes me cringe. The pits, yes? Doesn’t anyone have any interpersonal skills anymore? I still have a very healthy sex-drive but haven’t found a bit of uncomplicated, lusty sex since I dated Michael Hutchence. What to do, Lils? – Kylie
A. Dear Kyles: You’re speaking my language, sister! You should meet some of my social media “friends” – why anyone thinks a photo of their penis will bring me slobbering to their bedside amazes me. You and I need to get ourselves down to the docks when the fleet comes in and hook a sex-starved sailor or three. We’ll both feel like teenagers again.
Q. Dear Lily: I’ve just got this great new government job which requires me to drink lots of beer while I pretend it’s good fun joking around with a bunch of other blokes in steel capped boots and yellow vests. I’m worried that too much beer might make me less virile in the old, you know “bringing the al dente noodle to the spaghetti house” department – if you’ll excuse my Italian. I need to keep up appearances, but need to keep the old fella up too. Any tips? – Albo
A. Dear Albo: I’m sure you’re an attractive enough chap for many of your new colleagues to still try to screw you while you find your feet in the new job. Don’t worry, they won’t be too fussed about the brewer’s droop.
Q. Dear Lily: I’m about to be posted overseas and am leave my girlfriend behind. I loves her so much and we is childhood sweethearts but don’t know how we can survive a long-distanced relationship. Any clues? – sailor blue
A. Dear Sailor: I was so touched by your heartfelt concern for your relationship, which will be so sorely tested while you’re apart. I dearly wanted to help, but then I noticed your appalling grammar…
More agony for the beleaguered retail industry has recently hit the media, and as a commentator on all things sex and sexual, I thought I may as well share my two cents on it. I’ve included a link at the end for those who wish to read more about the furore.
Here is the issue, for those who are not up to speed, or turned away as soon as they realised it was about the infamous Australian lingerie brand, Honey Birdette, again. Honey Birdette’s latest campaign has just launched, this one called Red Alert and it’s a bold confrontation to the censorship it has received over the years to its raunchy shop window marketing.
This new campaign, titled Red Alert for impact, involves the word “censorship” superimposed in bold print across the Honey Birdette models’ breasts, cleavage and nipples.
Honey Birdette founder Eloise Monaghan was quick to add a statement to the campaign:
‘They are attempting to change the definition of what is acceptable in lingerie advertising to include almost any image, implying that it could be interpreted as sexual,’ Monaghan says.
‘Our bodies are not up for discussion; neither is how “appropriate” our breasts are for display in lingerie advertising. Nor does lace underwear imply consent to rape.’
The main culprit behind the censorship attacks on their advertising in the past has been Collective Shout, a group that has encouraged consumer complaints to the Ad Standards board about Honey Birdette’s store advertising, in which it has commented: ‘Collective Shout continues to raise awareness about ways in which the sex trade imposes itself on the community.’
Direct accusations have included shoppers being accosted by “provocative” posters in Honey Birdette’s windows: According to Collective Shout in the past, ‘shoppers who pass by these stores are held captive to porn-themed imagery and even more so the people who work in the centre itself. To force porn-themed imagery on a non-consenting all-ages audience, which includes children, is a form of sexual harassment. This also violates a child’s right to grow up free from sexual exploitation.’
Now I don’t know about you, but these claims seem pretty harsh. Honey Birdette is a very expensive, up-market lingerie store, and certainly not a sex shop or brothel. Perhaps because I work in the sex industry, the inside of a Honey Birdette store looks very different to the inside of a brothel, or a porn set in full “swing”, as it were.
Firstly, the Honey Birdette campaign mentions rape, another entire can of horrifying worms which I absolutely don’t think warrant being part of this particular campaign at all. Now, it would seem to me that this issue tackles a topic that is very difficult to judge, because it involves something very subjective – are the advertising posters too provocative for a shopping mall or not?
Some people may find the posters in question horrifying, whilst others wouldn’t bat an eyelid and walk past without even seeing them. Maybe an authority needs to put in place some clear rules otherwise who knows what retail companies would come up with?
Needing, I suppose, a body part to put its focus on, rather than relying on being just metaphorical, Honey Birdette’s campaign has chosen “female nipples” since this is straightforward and banned by Australian censorship laws. In addition, Honey Birdette founder Eloise Monaghan feels nipples are imperative to their campaign, ‘just as you’ll find in male advertising of any topless kind.’ Except Honey Birdette’s lingerie sets include bras. Just a small point to make.
Now, which party will receive a fine for displaying advertising material that is against the law is clear, regardless of any new campaigns or Collective Shout collectively shouting. Discussions about it on social media are inundated with angry messages from people with nightmares about previous campaigns that burned their eyes. I’m reminded of the joke about the old biddy complaining to the police officer about a man undressing in an apartment opposite. When the police arrived they said they couldn’t see any problem. The old lady replied: ‘Climb on top of the cupboard, officer, and balance on that chair, you’ll see what I mean.’
Personally I don’t see what the fuss is all about. I think all the noise is a waste of public resources and we know we are living our best lives when there are complaints about lingerie store advertising being too sexy.
Anyway, it would seem that all this talking about Honey Birdette is largely controversial, but all this talking in general is actually an advertiser’s dream!
Image credits to @Honey-Birdette’s advertising campaign
Artificial intelligence, digital marketing and social media give us all a vast array of advantages with their introduction into many facets of our society, but there have been some results we haven’t expected. Tragically, they have also enabled criminal enterprises to take advantage of the power and invisibility of technology to run vast networks of illegal sex operations and human sex trafficking across Australia and the world, in plain sight, with little chance of ever being caught.
Thought leaders have demonstrated how machine learning technology is enabling new strategies to locate and prosecute those who profit from the worst of the illegal sex trade. In breaking new ground with AI, this innovative technology has been applied to track down criminals who were posting ads on behalf of someone else, which in the past had made locating the traffickers almost impossible, by making them invisible to law enforcement.
These criminals were literally “selling” dozens of women’s and children’s availability for sexual acts on-line, while these women and girls were silenced by fear and under the control of the trafficker. This is the awful reality of sex-trafficking, much different from a woman promoting her own company for sale, which may or not be legal depending upon the jurisdiction. Both appeared to the casual observer, a potential customer, and to law enforcement, as the same thing – a girl selling sex.
A breakthrough came in 2015. This case in Pennsylvania exposed a man called Cedric Boswell. He had 6,306 photos of women and children on his phone. Law enforcement officers suspected that these images could be found on the Backpage website, where sex workers, pimps, and traffickers would place ads for sex. Backpage, since closed down by the FBI, was the number one place for selling sexual services. It was the first place law enforcers went, and it was also the place where police found his particular advertisement. However, police had the issue of trying to connect all those images on the phone to particular ads to prove that Boswell was advertising those images for sexual services on Backpage as a sex-trafficker. Police weren’t keen to spend time manually checking each image on this site and trying to match them with one of his images – this “opportunity-cost” protection had until then been used by traffickers to ensure they could operate with impunity.
However, Julia Kocis, a dedicated anti-trafficking officer had an idea. She was referred to Traffic Jam, a software technology that was specifically designed to aid sex trafficking investigations by the use of artificial intelligence. ‘We ran the images and phone number through the tool,’ she says, ‘and it brought back all the ads he’d posted in just minutes. Then I played around with it, and it showed a map of where the phone number was used to post girls at different locations, and over time.’
Apparently, the evidence provided by this tool was “a smoking gun.” It was enough to convict Cedric Boswell for sex trafficking and he is now serving up to 26 years in prison. Effectively, Traffic Jam is part of a cluster of new tech tools bringing machine learning and artificial intelligence to the fight against sex trafficking. AI doesn’t promise to be a magic solution for this problem, but for early adopters it is catalysing the rate of sex trafficking investigations, allowing law enforcers to conduct 10 times as many investigations as they used to. And AI never takes a coffee break.
These AI tools may be the first time there is the potential for law enforcement with their limited resources to “reverse-engineer” the criminals’ multitude of anonymous interactions, enabling them to be collated, tracked and identified. Before this, there was mainly only the untraceable single girl in a hotel room with a mobile phone who would not be there next week, and it was understandably a poor use of police time to try and stop these, apparently, single operators.
We’re told that trafficking into Australia is relatively small, protected as we are by strong borders and it being an island country. Ten years ago, the research showed over a period of 2 years there were only 117 prosecutions for trafficking in Australia but of these only four convictions were made and three of those are under appeal. With limited resources, the time to investigate each suspected crime – sometimes years – and the complexity of the transnational crime itself means it is undoubtedly a larger problem than it appears, particularly as victims are reticent to talk. What we do know is that there is a flourishing illegal sex trade in Australia with girls operating from rented hotel and motel rooms, in precisely the same way this trade is run around the world. There is little reason to doubt the heavy hand of the sex-trafficking industry is behind much of this trade.
Perhaps this new tool and similar innovations will enable a new approach – something like being able to cut out the cancer rather than punishing/rehabilitating the victims of the disease. We can hope that our Federal Police are able to work hand in hand with State and International police to continue to keep our borders strong, and importantly, using the innovations in AI to enhance their work trying to eradicate the heinous crime of human sex-trafficking.
The vision some of us have of those working in the world’s oldest profession is admittedly rather bleak. Emaciated women, rife with STI’s and addicted to drugs, controlled by the proverbial pimp with a fancy car and gold chain. They are practically raped in a small, damp room with just a stained mattress in it, and then tossed out into a dark alley to wait for the next assassin. Sound familiar?
We’re confronted by similar stereotypes to this on TV and other forms of media, but how true is it really? Happily, I personally don’t know any girl that fits this description. I run a legal brothel and I’m the Madam to a group of quite astute young businesswomen. Of course, to the customer they are genuinely sweet, endearing and gentle; they are also extremely seductive and sensual. But my point is they’re working here because it’s their chosen vocation, and what they happily provide is a service. Yes, they are real “happy hookers” (I’ve always wanted to say that!)
Sex work is a real occupation governed by laws, just like any other job, trade or profession. There are rights the girls are entitled to from The Cherry Tree Garden when they use our beautiful rooms, like protection from health and safety risks, bullying and harassment and they too have responsibilities to both their guests and my shop. For example, that they are free from STI’s and have documents to show this, they always put their guests comfort first, and they protect and hopefully enhance the hard-earned reputation of my shop. Doesn’t sound much different from the so-called “household brands” we see promoting their wares in letter box drops and in TV advertising, does it? Fact is, it isn’t much different at all – except for the product itself and the absence of buyer’s remorse!
In the legal industry at least, and certainly here in my shop, there are no edicts to work 24/7, and the girls are free to negotiate independently with their guests how their mutual time is to be spent. It is truer to say there is a “service level agreement” which defines the working relationship and it’s framed in a way that my shop, the girls, and their guests are treated to their expectations, and we try very hard to go well beyond that. From reviews of Google and the emails we receive, which we post on our website, we do exceptionally well on all these measures, despite being unable to promote ourselves where and how we choose, and despite being the newest kid on the block.
In the past, there have been demonstrations and lobbying by sex workers because many conditions around sex work are confusing and contradictory. The reason why these laws are so restrictive is because laws tend to mirror, rather than anticipate, society’s attitudes and are often slow to keep up with contemporary ideas. Social media laws anyone? In the past, when these strict laws were created, attitudes toward prostitution were, overall, very negative. Now that times have changed, some groups in society are in favour of formalising legal prostitution as a socially acceptable vocation. With that being said, those lingering stereotypes are still alive and well, leaving what is a genuine choice about work having to take place away from the gaze of “decent society”. This just seems ridiculous to me, considering that sex is one of the most natural, straight-forward, not to mention the funnest, activities we engage in, whether monetary payment is involved or not. Never to forget that it is this same decent society who pay my bills with their patronage.
The confusing laws around sex work is another topic entirely that I’ll address in other blog posts. The purpose of this one is to try to shine a light on those stereotypes and show them for what they are: outdated.
Unfortunately, in real life there are individuals who are still the way I described at the beginning, and that is tragic. In those situations, a woman may be desperate for drug money and, not being able to secure a different job due to addiction, provides gritty sex to disrespectful and forceful men. But sex work is not by itself the common link between drug addiction, rape and poverty, or its cause.
There are rules that guests must abide by, such as accepting the specific activities they had negotiated earlier and not forcing a different activity instead. Our guests pay the negotiated amount as they arrive. This sounds exactly like a trip to the barber or to the dentist (although more pleasant). There’s no reason for either the guest or the sex worker to feel awkward. Neither are defined by providing or purchasing sex. It says absolutely nothing about who they are as individuals, good or bad, unless of course they behave in an unacceptable way during or after their appointment, but that goes for everything they do in life.
The girls who work here are certainly far from impoverished. They also enjoy providing a sex service to make their guests happy and fulfilled. They could certainly do another job elsewhere, but they choose this one.
I can tell you the brief story of one Chinese girlfriend as an example. She started her career as a forensic pathologist, that is, she spent her days with naked dead people. Her career switch not only made the naked bodies she was dealing with much more interesting, but has allowed her to make a life many people only dream about. She has just turned 32, worked exceptionally hard, and since retired (to the disappointment of many, I assume!). She’s far from a unique example of a professional woman pursuing a career of choice. As long as people hold inaccurate beliefs about sex work and those who provide it, we’ll continue to have difficulty working in this industry, as well as in so many other aspects of our social life: from banking, to our own personal relationships with family and friends.
There’s a perception that this industry breaks up marriages and families, yet there’s no evidence whatsoever showing that to be true. In fact, sex workers save many marriages, where the female partner may not be able, or want, to engage in sex with their partner for a multitude of reasons. Rather than having an affair, or going down other anti-social alleys, he will visit our shop and his relationship stays intact. There are many other places and circumstances that have a far greater potential to break up relationships, such as casinos, drug use, domestic abuse, financial hardship, alcohol and, of course, infidelity. It’s not the service providers like us that instigate the destruction of our institutions, rather, it’s more the individuals inside relationships and their own personal situations and the choices they make.
One positive thing about living in this era is that, in general, we’re all more tolerant of one another. If you’re gay, or have a lot of tattoos, are a female CEO or a man wearing heels, as long as you don’t harm anyone else, you are rightfully empowered to function as an equal member in our community. Come on folks, what about giving sex workers a break?
Very few establishments are tarnished with a negative reputation and are forced to operate in the shadows of society, even if they’re legal. One of these is a brothel. Personally, I don’t really understand why our establishments deserve the public scorn, since we’re really just another business. You may throw tales of deceit and sex addiction at us, but this is rarely what we encounter. Please allow me the opportunity to tell you a different story – something which I encounter much more frequently. However, most importantly, please note that all names and case studies offered below are entirely fictional. There are some elements based loosely on real situations, but because we’re in the business of privacy, we won’t disclose anything which could identify any guest, past and present, at The Cherry Tree Garden.
It’s late on Saturday night, when day becomes night. With a smile, I greet Martin who visits a couple of times a month. I know that Martin doesn’t really like to chat, so I quickly call Suzie over and she guides Martin to his favourite room. Martin feels comfortable with Suzie – I have never seen him select a different lady here. For most of the hour he’s paid for, they simply cuddle one another because Martin yearns for human contact. Martin is close to 40 but has never had a girlfriend or wife, or even had a casual sexual encounter. He’s too shy to even approach women. But since he has been visiting The Cherry Tree Garden, he’s starting to feel more comfortable around women.
Later that same night, Bill visits us. Bill is very likeable. He has a lot to talk about every time he comes. A few of us gather to listen to the story of his recent trip to the supermarket – we understand it’s important to him that he’s heard, as not many other people in his solitary life would listen. A few other customers come and go before Bill does – but we know that the lady he takes in the end isn’t the important thing to him. As he eventually takes Gina’s hand, because she happens to be free at the time he’s ready, I notice for the first time that Bill is wearing his shirt back to front today. I smile confidently, knowing that Gina will gently help him dress properly afterwards. Bill is single and has been diagnosed with schizophrenia. When things are going well for him, we see him quite frequently. When he’s not doing so well, he doesn’t visit at all. We’re always very pleased to see Bill and listen to his stories, however far-fetched they may be.
Tim is softly-spoken and he tends to only have one topic of discussion, which he will tell to anyone who will listen. Well, two really. His cars (he’s a mechanic), and his family. He loves his wife and little boy more than anything, and he tells us they often spend precious time together. From what Tim says about his wife, she’s a beautiful person and he’s so proud to be her husband. Tim mentioned once that, sadly, his wife suffers from post-natal depression. One of the symptoms is lack of libido. Tim is supporting her through her illness and we know he would never consider having an affair. When he’s with one of our ladies here, he hardly looks at her because he’s thinking of his wife. Afterwards, there are no lingering moments, gentle cuddles or breathy promises for next time – Tim leaves as quietly as he arrived, no doubt immediately back to his wife and son to enjoy more precious moments together.
A customer who stands out in my mind is Jim. Jim often arrives with chocolates for all the girls to share. Although that’s not why I’m telling you about him. Jim gets around in a wheelchair. He’s a young man and wants to understand more about how his body works. He and the lucky lady he selects have a lot of fun exploring and laughing. Jim recently told us that he’s met a young lady through some friends who he would like to ask out on a date. If all goes well, we won’t see Jim anymore, and that’s more than ok.
Of course, most guests don’t share their story with us, or their why. They arrive and leave, and for one reason or another we sometimes don’t see them again. We could try and guess or put pieces together from fleeting snippets they tell us, but we’re only concerned about how we can offer our guests a magical experience. As long as we’re not hurt, physically or mentally, and you leave a satisfied customer, that’s what matters. We simply cannot be held responsible for your disappointed mother or hurt partner – that’s not our job. Imagine if we were shop assistants at JB HiFi and you spent thousands on the latest surround-sound technology. It wouldn’t be our problem if your wife felt that money should have been better spent, and demands you sleep on the couch for a week!
Next time you think of brothels and have visions of sleazy men having orgies behind their partner’s back, think of the more realistic customers who visit, who are the majority. Men who yearn for a more suited (to them) sex life but dearly love their wives and therefore won’t consider having an affair; men who have endured setbacks at work or at home and simply want to escape into a fantasy world for a little while; men who don’t have a sex life at all because they think, quite wrongly, their physical appearance is not attractive to a casual or long-term partner; or men who don’t want to shock their partner into leaving due to their unusual fetish. Without an outlet to express themselves sexually, it is entirely possible that any of these men would fall into a dire depression.
I don’t expect that I can change the mind of a nation with just this one blog post, but I do hope that I can encourage you to consider my version of the diverse range of people who frequent our business and why they do. Then you may see that we aren’t in the business of fuelling sex addiction – we’re simply providing a necessary service with a great deal of kindness and a touch of charm.