Author: Lyla Tournay

  • Australia’s Legal Brothels, Perth

    Australia’s Legal Brothels, Perth

    So I decided to go to Perth, the other side of Australia, where the mining boom has given the average tradesman a six figure salary.  Again the scene, was very different but the receptionists were lovely and supportive, so that was good enough for me.  It was smaller with less girls, thus it was a bit cliquey, with even the owners engaging in workplace gossip.  The main thing that shocked me was the proliferation of methamphetamine amongst the workers and clients. Western Australian state brothel laws prohibit the consumption of alcohol on premises.  What shocked me was how open they were about their recreational drug use.

    Clients would come in and say ‘Sorry I might not get hard, I blazed pretty hard just before I got here’ (NB ‘blaze’ refers to smoking a meth pipe).  Many times I would strike up conversation with girls only to be constantly interrupted and eventually just watch them ramble on and on.  On Saturday nights we would watch and laugh at the resident heroin addict who would go on the nod and spill tea all over herself.  It was a relief really because as long as she was unconscious, we wouldn’t have to protect our stuff.  She was a kleptomaniac.

    Because of the alcohol restrictions and the unavailability of cocaine in WA, it was actually a lot easier to work there.  In the Shoe on a Saturday night there would be a 50/50 chance that we would have to spend hours getting lock-jaw sucking on sheathed and flaccid dick.  In Perth, besides the 1% on meth, the worst they could do was drink too much making them rock hard and unable to ejaculate which is still better than flaccid dicks.

    Being an isolated city, Perth has a higher proportion of Australian clientele, and not the cosmopolitan kind that can be found in Sydney and Melbourne.  I don’t care what anyone says, us Australians are pretty fucking funny.

    Bearing this in mind, I decided to move to Perth and go private.  The only thing holding me back from going private in Sydney was not being able to afford a place of my own.  With its more affordable housing and wealthy laid-back population, I decided to take the plunge.

    Looking back, I do not think I could go back to brothel work.  Then again, as they say in this industry, ‘never say never.’  Hell, I walked away from the Shoe three times.  I get to choose my clients, work when I want and earn over twice as much as I did in brothels where management garnished 30%-50% of whatever money we made.

    What I do miss most is the camaraderie between the workers.  The gender stereotype that all women are bitchy and compete with each other does not apply to the work environment in brothels.  Any worker who did subscribe to this stereotype quickly became a pariah.  Never did I experience an environment that was more supportive and non-judgmental than the brothel.  Our backgrounds, income, identity etc. didn’t matter.  There, we were all equal.


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  • Australia’s Legal Brothels, Sydney Part 2

    Australia’s Legal Brothels, Sydney Part 2

    With respect to receptionists and management, I have to say the Shoe ranks as the worst for me.  But it has the best reputation out of all brothels in the state so it had a higher number of clientele.  I worked there on and off for two years.  I suspect that the management has engineered certain rules to make sure that working girls have a shorter shelf life, which means a constant influx of new workers which is attractive to clients.  Some receptionists were lovely and there for us workers.  But the business was run with a ‘customer’s always right’ mentality.  This is all well and good for when you’re selling inanimate products or a normal service like house cleaning or dentistry.  But when you are dealing in an industry that essentially sells personalities, it is a whole different scenario.

    Personalities are malleable and dependent on so many external factors.  For a worker that is good at her job, the only thing that will affect her performance is the way a client treats her.  I tell my clients all the time, as long as you are polite and respectful, you will get the best from me.  Of course in this world sometimes people don’t click.  When a dispute erupts between a client and working girl, chances are it is the client’s fault.

    The bookings I walked out of that stick in my memory are the guy who was so drunk he could barely stand and after about 20 minutes he must have told me to ‘Shut tha fook oop’ at least ten times.  There was also the guy who just went and shoved his dick up my anus on one of my first ever shifts.  As a brothel worker I did not allow clients to finger me, be too rough or indulge in certain extras without paying first.  Most of us would just warn him the first time a client crossed our boundaries, the second time we would walk out.

    At the Shoe, though, there was an implicit pressure to put up with clients’ shit, no matter how bad we were being treated.  If it wasn’t because receptionists recorded everything in a diary and sacked girls who had had too many run-ins with clients, it was because many times I saw certain perpetrators be welcomed back in to the establishment and piss off some more workers.

    The first time I left it was because I went traveling for months, fell in love, then got a normal job.  When that short-lived romance ended I wasn’t quite ready to go back there.  On its own the Shoe is overwhelming.  So I worked a few shifts at one Eastern Suburbs establishment where the receptionists were the nicest I had ever come across but dammit, they just didn’t get enough clients.

    I moved on to another brothel right in the middle of Sydney’s central business district.  Because of its location I stood a chance of making a similar amount to what I made at the Shoe from the suit-wearing clientele.  Unfortunately, the management were a bunch of meth-addled, paranoid, MMA-type men.  The brothel was much like those found in Melbourne where rather than being put in a room, introduced to girls one-by-one and told to choose, clients could sit at a bar and talk a bit more with girls.  This is all well and good but many time-wasters would come in, sit at the bar for ages, perv on the girls then leave.  Others would stay for hours then only book the cheapest service.

    Initially the owner and his MMA mates were vigilant about making these wankers leave but after a while they started assuming the ‘customer’s always right’ mentality a la Shoe.  Furthermore, the beefy owner would sit at the end of the bar watching everything going on like some pimp.  Most owners would employ a female manager for this, so clients and even the workers wouldn’t be put off.

    Some of the workers there weren’t particularly nice either.  There were many older women who had been working there for years who took an instant dislike to me.  There was a more competitive atmosphere because of the bar setting.  I suppose because we didn’t have our own room to hang out while waiting for clients, we couldn’t really relax.

    Eventually, I wound up back at the Shoe but every few weeks, I’d take some weeks off to dedicate more time to my studies or travel some more.  One year later I left because I had an argument with the manager who yelled at me for not wanting to take a one hour booking 15 minutes before my 10 hour night shift was due to end.  She said when I offered to do the booking for half an hour “It’s not up to us to tell the clients how long they can stay or not. If you do this again you won’t be welcome back here.

    Feeling like I had no autonomy over my own body I left to work at a rival brothel.  Here many of the girls and even one of the receptionists had worked at the Shoe and left for similar reasons to mine.  I remember my first booking; as soon as I brought the client up the room and finished his health check he leaned in to the shower and began pissing.  In my surprise I told reception over intercom.  The receptionist arrived immediately, sternly told the man that all he had to do was ask me which way to the toilets and asked me if I still wanted to go ahead with the booking.  My standards were low after working at the Shoe for years so I said yes.  As we were walking downstairs to sort the money out the client yelled down to us to stop talking about him.  The receptionist went up there, yelled at him to put his clothes on and kicked him out.  This would not have happened at the Shoe and it made me feel really good about this new place,  Whitney’s I’ll call it.

    For brothel workers it’s important for our morale to know that the receptionists are on our side.  To watch us like hawks and not back us up when we have legitimate grievance with a client damages our psyche.  We no longer like our work, making us more likely to give bad service.  It also makes us more likely to burn out quickly and disappear, which is probably what the Shoe was aiming for.  Meanwhile, other business struggle to find enough variety of ladies and appreciate if a worker can bring in regular clients.  Unfortunately, I just couldn’t make enough money at Whitney’s, there weren’t enough clients coming in.


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  • Australia’s Legal Brothels, Sydney Part 1 – An Insiders Perspective

    Australia’s Legal Brothels, Sydney Part 1 – An Insiders Perspective

    Australia; the land of tranquil beaches, relaxed people and numerous predators.  Many a traveller has disembarked Sydney Airport and marveled at the sparkling harbor, blue skies and cosmopolitan structures.  One would hardly suspect that this city is also home to a number of legal brothels that are large and grandiose enough to rival any in Berlin or Amsterdam.

    I made my first foray into the world of Sydney’s brothels over three years ago.  After following the directions according to the brothel’s website I arrived at a large, nondescript grey building.  It was on a busy road, appeared somewhat new and had no windows.  I rang the doorbell and was ushered in to what was a complete contrast to the outside.  In front of me was a spiral staircase and a water feature.  Carefully controlled lighting and unobstructive bar/lounge music created a tasteful atmosphere.  I was led around a corner to a full stocked bar decked out with leather seats for a formal interview.  Then I was given a tour of the establishment, from the ‘girls’ room’ where the workers could watch TV, enjoy a fully stocked fridge or set up their laptops on tables while they waited for ‘meets.’

    In the meetings, clients would ring the doorbell and be greeted by smiling receptionist who would lead him to an allocated room.  As she seated the client, the receptionist would tell him what to expect (‘The girls will come and introduce themselves one by one. Please remember their names and feel free to ask them any questions’) then leave him to peruse the price list.  Afterwards she would come back, consult with the client, then go to the girls’ room to retrieve the working lady of his choosing.

    The chosen worker would collect the client, bring him to the staircase where the receptionist would tell her the number of which room to go to, then take him upstairs.  Upon entering the room, she would lead the client to a special lamp where she would instruct the client to drop his pants so she could give him a thorough health check.  With all things clear (which happened about 95% of the time) she would ask him how long he wanted to stay, take the money from him and put him in the shower.

    Then she would go to the cashier’s office at the end of the corridor, say the type of service and the room number, e.g. ‘1 hour plus kissing in 5.’  The cashier would record this and the worker would take her ‘condom bag’ from the cupboard and go back to the room where the client would have by then finished his shower.  Every room had an intercom where the cashier would ring a buzzer five minutes before the booking was due to finish.  The worker and client would shower, get changed, then be ready to leave the room by the time the second buzzer was rung.  She would lead him down the back staircase where the receptionist would meet them to see the client out.

    What I have described is a very formulaic process that was common practice for every brothel I have ever worked at. As clinical as it sounds, it was quite fun a lot of the time.  Despite the processing each brothel had its own individual character, depending on the workers, the receptionists, the management and the décor.  There wasn’t much difference in clients as far as demographics are concerned.

    Watch out for Part 2 of Australia’s legal brothels this weekend!


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