Subject: uk - glasgow

A.G.Maughan's Chronicles of Glaswegian Pussy


As with any halfway clever UK city, Glasgow offers five fairly
distinct brands of flesh for hire:

1.  Streetmeat: Mangy smackheads and petty criminals mostly.  The free
    market at it's best.  Some bargains to be found.  I know a a guy
    who claims he and a friend picked one of these girls up, but on
    pooling their funds could only afford one blowjob between them,
    giving rise to much philosophising upon whether the question,
    "What is half a blow job?" is one of the eternal unanswerables.
    Get stuck into the juveniles before the star-spangled Jackie Straw
    waves his yank-flavoured oppression stick.  If you must kill
    whores, these ones get a lot of press when they die so be wary.

2.  Clubbers: Prices vary with easiness of girl.  Quality varies, but
    don't expect much.  You get what you deserve rather than what you
    pay for.  And I mean, fuck, you have to talk to them and seem
    normal and shit.  Not worth the time or effort, I say.

3.  Saunas: Check the Edinburgh listings, the prices are comparable.
    The Aquarius in Park Gardens is reckoned to be the best, with
    assured high quality and probably the prettiest girls - students
    and the like.  And pool tables and a lovely bar.  Arguably the
    safest bet for a fine lay in this country.  Ah, but I prefer
    variation...

4.  Private flats: Nearly all prices fixed at #10 entry + #30 handjob
    to #50 sex and #60 a mixture of everything.  Other prices in
    between but I tend to phase out during the litany, opting for
    everything everytime.  Glasgow's gangster controlled market at its
    best.  The prostitutes found within are either lifers or novelty
    whores - old, lesbian shows, dungeons etc.  Don't rule any out
    unless you've tried them, but an odd general rule seems to be that
    if they take your money first, *they* know they're rubbish, and
    subsequently are.  Get out for the loss of a tenner would be the
    best advice, not that I've ever heeded it.

5.  Call girls.  Haven't tried them.  Possibly incredible.  Probably
    expensive.  Reachable on mobile phones, and I'm damned if a quid's
    worth of pussy hunting is appearing on mummy's bill.


It looked to me as if the area warranting most examination was that of
the Private Flattiers.  Forcing the cost to the back of my mind,
lodged between a deviant tendency and a neurosis, I set out to get
some.  Now, this was almost two years ago, and in the strictest sense
I was still a virgin.  My fingers were raw to the bone, my bone hurt,
and the videos were getting dull.  I needed better sex.  The options
were obvious.  I bought a Daily Sport for the 'massage' section,
downloaded the Electrode-Aided Masturbation FAQ and weighed up the
pros and cons of each.  But I was to find that like most things, just
when one's reached a decision and feeling pretty good about it, the
whole damn plan goes to buggery when you don't have enough sockets.


I live quite far outside Glasgow - two hours by train - so any
excursion has to be planned meticulously, often days in advance, and
even then the schedule must be altered two or three times for security
reasons.  It was partly my slipshod approach on this occassion that
meant I was to wait another eight weeks to get some hole.  Regardless
of my own neglect, however, this record serves as a caveat to all
comers.

**********************************************************
Gillian, 40's, biggish, not bad looking for the age.

Located on Calder Street, a short bus ride from Bridge St. Underground.

Advertised in the Daily Sport as 'Mature' or variations.  I'd be more
specific but as this is a recommendation NOT to do her (and I can't
remember any more) you just need enough to spark recognition upon
enquiry, that you may avoid a very apathetic fuck.
**********************************************************

Okay, so basically I only took out #50 and blew the first ten on
fastfood.  So call me a fool.  I was a tender virgin, I didn't know
the prices but figured they'd be similar to the streetmeat on telly.
Pah!  Anyway, the phonegirl kept me waiting in the anteroom for fully
15 minutes.  I was nervous enough to start with so that didn't help.
I was just about to say fuckit and go when Gillian knocked at the door
and the phonegirl lead me to the bedroom.

I don't quite know how the law works surrounding this sort of thing
but here they went all out for caution.  Handing over a tenner to the
phonegirl, I asked what the maximum price would be, but she protested
ignorance and left.  The absurd measures these girls take to not
acknowledge each other has to be one of the funniest examples of
delicate man?uvering around the fat arse of the law in Britain today.

It was a pretty nice room with a double bed and a porn video in the
corner.  Quite a good atmosphere if I was in the frame of mind to
appreciate it.  Soooo, I got naked, sat in front of the TV and tried
jerking off in the hope I'd become rather harder.  In a more natural
and open society, any idiot can see it's the girl who should feel hurt
and guilty for temporary male impotence due to her lack of physical
quality, but in this fucked up world where politically correct 'girl
power' and insipidity are gods (is it just me that can see the link to
increased rape, pedophilia, adolescent male suicide, lesbianism, etc?)
I was NOT having much of a good time of it.

A minute or so later, Gillian entered; I lay down; she took off her
top (nice tits for her age) blah blah blah...  I found I could only
afford a handjob (#10+#30).  What can I say, it was all very routine.
The phrase that comes to mind is professional detachment.  She
affected courtesy but no more.  Ah, but silly me, I was forgetting the
market research element...

Private flat prostitutes like to get some info on their clientele to
improve their sales strategy.  All businesses do it.  They'd be mad
not to.  But when you're lying their being pulled off (vertical, too
firm) whilst fingering a middle-aged woman as a perfunctory show of
interest, the addition of a line of interrogation that starts, "So,
what do you do?", and continues through, "Where are you from?", "Where
did you hear about this place?", and "What made you choose us?" had me
probing inside for a clipboard.  I came meekly.

Overall:  Amusing in retrospect, but never #40 worth.              


Some weeks after that first unsuccessful encounter, when I had thought
of lots of better things the money could have gone to, but before I
could include the profligacy itself in my "I can laugh now ho ho
ho. see" file, I surprised myself with the decision to do it again.
For goodness' sake why?  The obvious question.  It's a much denigrated
fact that men need to fuck girls.  That is: NEED.  Then when girls
object like scared little repeat-victims about the more frightening
aspects, surely it's either complete segregation or dealing with the
issue in their own heads.  Which would you rather, I ask?  (then
remember I'm asking on a site dedicated to consumers of prostitution,
and get off my hobbyhorse soapbox thing.)

******************************************************
Toni, 40's, small and thin, average looking.

Situated in the West End.  Specifically Dumbarton Road just off Byers
Road.  Open between about 11am-5pm and until 9pm on Friday.  Phone
early, they're busy.  #5 entry + #30max.

Advertised in the Daily Sport as "#30TheLot."  They've been there for
years and have no intention of moving.  Lisa also works in this flat.
More on her later.

Can I say the number?  0141 339 XXX4   Call tonight.  Or today!
******************************************************

Excellent.  Have to say that right now before I get lost in
pretentious wordplay.  Alright, maybe not excellent in the truest
sense, but after Gillian this was a most welcome re-introduction to
the better part of a functioning society.  I confess to not having the
faintest idea how they can be half the price of anywhere else.  I'll
ask next time.  I've a notion they double book each of the half hour
timeslots, so be clever and arrive four minutes early.

It's a small, badly lit room with a bar heater and a single bed
against the wall.  There's the choice of costumes - schoolgirl, nurse,
pvc and policewoman (with helmet).  Since I've been going, they've
moved up from a radio on the wardrobe to a 18" TV and video replete
with cheap hardcore.  I feel quite proud.

Toni seems to have a slightly underdeveloped opinion of herself (most
likely as a natural consequence of her plain looks rather than any
dumbass fallacy television would feed you.  The only victims in the
profession are on the streets.  And they are greatly outnumbered by
the ones roaming freely in real life, legitimising their personal
hangups by blaming everyone else and calling it morality, the stupid
cunts) which manifests itself in a vigorous pre-lay massage and
propensity to talk constantly.  Not in a dispassionate way, more
hyperfriendly chit-chat.  Any market research was incidental to the
flow of the converation.  I hardly spoke but after two visits I knew
the name and birthdate of the phonegirl, Toni's career history and a
whole lot of information that would be greatly useful to any bored
prankster.

For a mindraped lad of the nineties, it was difficult not to warm
strongly to her.

Oh, you know when someone sees the scabs on your arm from the boiling
water and you can't for the life of you conjure a plausible,
non-scary, rationale?  And after about twenty seconds of gibbering you
arrive at 'nearby exploding aerosol' in the knowledge that pyromania
is just such a shit standard piece of life, relatively?  And how that
when you think you can get back to business, the person you're
fumbling around trying to work up a horn with, bless their souls,
decides it would be comforting and appropriate to recount the time
they suffered major burns to their feet from a faulty dishwasher
resulting in four months off their job, not this job, their other job
in an off-licence?

Bitch, eh?

What redeemed Toni and kept this incident out of any
humourous-in-retrospect anecdote bin, was the energetic thigh rubbing
thing she did, which turned out to be the most remarkably arousing
thing that's ever happened to me.  Previously everything good had come
from voyeurism, I didn't ever imagine my body could actually be
enjoyed by me.  Would anyone with a brain not kill to be a girl?

After a good length massage which was physical rather than sensual,
she offered me oral with or without a condom.  I chose without for the
novelty.  She lacked finesse, as one would expect, but for something
that was wholly new to me, it was pretty nice.

It was an odd extension of her character which prompted her to ask in
absolute sincerity, "Is there anything you want me to do?"  Out of
residual shyness (which I've since changed to audacity for the sake of
the memory) I asked audaciously, "Like what?"

Toni does "anything except anal or golden showers or anything like that."

So anyway, the sex - her on top - was passable.  I suppose any real
differences in quality here would be borne out of a mindset I could
achieve only through chemical stimulation, rather than enhanced
mechanical methodology, so until I coke up with my gangsta homeys and
get busy with honeys with booties and suchlike, merely pleasant will
suffice.

Overall: Good starter set.  Cheap and well located.  Oh, yes, almost
forgot - she insisted on a lubricant.  Just an observation...


***********************************************************
Lisa, about 30, minor babe with stunningly good nipples.  #30 suck and
fuck.  Dumbarton Road, same place as Toni.  0141 339 XXX4
***********************************************************

It's a tragic observation of modern 'life' that any girl with an
ability for wonderfully precise tongue/fingerwork and a modicum of wit
has probably graduated to doing other girls, and only condescends to
you for your money.  This applies doubly to whores.

Lisa seemed unwilling to be at all physical during either the massage
- which was nothing more than a brief dusting with talc - or anything
that followed, but what stood out was her perfect use of tongue.

Where one could normally expect a girl to have a cookbook based
knowledge of the techniques, Lisa had obviously learned through
experience.  Had she sliced me open and clipped a microammeter to the
relevant neurones she couldn't have been more aware of my pleasure.
Top notch.  I fucked her for fun.

**********************   


Fuf. This is getting kinda dull, all this writing. Okay, you've heard about the rare horny babes who're in the business out of some imaginitive interpretation of fun? Course you have, you degenerates, you live for it. So listen, I found one. Usual #70 total top price. If you look in the Daily Sport for a 'StunningAsian' it may or may not be her, I forget. It certainly fits her description. Oh, she was yummy. Yessiree. Bob. There was a nice touch to the massage bit whereby I was physically unable to do anything but suck on an entire breast. Then more of that but kneeling facing each other; then she got me to eat her for one damn long time. I don't know, can a girl spontaneously juice up in sync with the audio effects? Don't answer that, I was being facetious. She sucked me for a while then positioned herself on me facing the other way, ostensibly to afford me a better view (which it sure as hell did) but I suspect she was getting off on her reflection in the dressing table mirror. Everything just seemed to flow. Shit, jack, I had sex! --------------------------------------- [Asian/Porn sounding name begins with C] twenties, babe sex fiend. Kingston Street, 10 min walk from Bridge St. Underground. --------------------------------------- =========================================================================== Date: Wed, 22 Apr 1998 14:23:13 +0100 Subject: A word from Glasgow Atta, Congratulations on a good and useful service. Not only are some of the reviews quite horny (I especially enjoyed the Edindurgh one), but there's some good advise for us punters. I am fairly new to the Glasgow scene. I have only been using the local girls a short while. I have had some good experiences with street girls in the area around the now defunct Anderston bus station. I beleve there is also a scene around Glasgow Green. Tolerated by the police, but with an image problem the now, following some murders. I particularly remember a pretty young lass called Chloe. I only asked for hand relief, (UKP 20) but she persuaded me to go for some extras, so I asked her to finger herself. Lovely to watch. Unfortunately I come very easily in these situations. She suggested that next time I might like to pay a bit more and ask her to wank me off a few times, and she would go in "the back way." I've been thinking about it ever since, but haven't managed to find her again. However, I did pick up a lovely lass called Sheila, who was dressed more "Secretary finishing work" than business girl. She did a really classy wank for me and was dead friendly. Recently I tried the "aromatherapy" place along the waterfront, out past the daily record building. Not much cop. The lasses were old and glaikit (well, I did visit on a quiet Saturday afternoon) and not that cooperative. =========================================================================== Date: Wed, 29 Apr 1998 08:55:06 -0400 Subject: Glasgow Glasgow, like Edinburgh, has multiple "Saunas" throughout the city. They may not be explicitly legal sex clubs, but they are certainly tolerated and well established. I tried a few of them on a recent visit. A number are somewhat rudimentary with worn vinyl and threadbare carpet on the floor, an old sofa or two in the common room and so on. Even those will tend to have private cabins with a jacuzzi tub and a firm bed. Typically one will pay 15 pounds for a half hour and 25 pounds for a full hour to the house and tips of 40 to 45 pounds for unhurried full services with a great massage included. Tips generally won't be discussed until you have gotten to know the girl pretty well and often won't be expected until afterwards. Of all the spas in Glasgow, the Aquarius is head and shoulders above the rest. Set in a Victorian mansion near the university, it is finished in fine wood paneling and has a comfortable common room along with a "snooker room" (some people can't get over the sight of a beautiful woman stretched across a billiards table stroking a cue stick -- can't understand it myself). The receptionist will take the time to talk with you about your tastes and help you to select the right masseuse (or masseuses if your tastes run in that direction). The above house fees prevail at the Aquarius and you will be offered a secure locker and then lead to your massage cabin by the masseuse of your choice. French without is a common warmup and enthusiastic, no holds barred fucking is the grand finale. I invited my masseuse to lie back and give herself the first orgasm and after that she was insatiable. My friends in the U.S. can't understand why I seem to smile whenever they talk about the sauna at the gym. =========================================================================== Date: Wed, 6 May 1998 02:07:35 +0100 Subject: GLASGOW

GLASGOW, Scotland, United Kingdom. Move over Edinburgh, here comes GLASGOW - Scotland. The Carlton club, Carlton place (on the banks of the river clyde in the city centre.) (0141) 429 4202 I have visited a number of saunas in Glasgow (I will print the names and telephone numbers at the end of this article) and this is my first time in writing an article of this nature. I am focussing on one sauna, but I will, in the future, write about others. I would like to point out that I have no connection - other than being a customer - with the Carlton club. Although this is called a club, there is no membership - anyone can walk in off the street. I first heard about them by reading an advert in the yellow pages. (They dont advertise in THE SPORT). I made a phone call to make sure that it was the type of place that I wanted to go to - I didnt after all want to go to a club where old blokes in striped ties sat around all day drinking Pimms and lemonade and talking about the war and how the younger generation dont have a clue how tough things were in the good old days. The club is situated in a splendid old Georgian building in Cartlon place, on the South Bank of the Clyde and within 100 yards (metres) of the City courts, but dont let that put you off. I have been going to the Carlton for over a year now and this is what I recall of my first visit. The first thing I saw when I walked in the place was the reception desk. Standing behind it was - surprise surprise - the receptionist. She was a very cheerful, but not very pretty girl of about 25. She told me what I had already found out by phoning them - that it was fifteen pounds for a half hour, eighteen pounds for forty five minutes and twenty pounds for an hour. I booked an hour session and immediately told her that I was a newcomer and asked for a tour. Just to the right of the reception, and behind a wooden partition was the lounge where the girls sat. The receptionist asked one of the girls ( I cant remember her name) to give me the tour. I was given a towel and a large pouch/purse type keyring with a locker key attached. The girl showed me to the changing room - carpetted with around a dozen six foot high lockers, each containing a towelling bath robe. There was a couch and a small table with a hair dryer on it. The girl then showed me to the steam room, sauna and showers. To get to them we had to walk through a very well furnished, but rather dark TV room. The TV was showing regular programmes. I was told that the cabins were downstairs. Upon asking I was told that I could use the sauna and steam room and showers for as long as I wished and when I was ready just to go back through to the lounge at reception. So after a shower I went to the lounge. The girl that had showed me round asked me if I wanted a drink. I asked for a coke, which she went and got from a machine (no charge). She then introduced me to firstly herself and then to the three other girls who were working. It was around six oclock in the evening and all of the girls had long evening dresses on. Some had low cut necks (the girls with the big tits were wearting these) and some had splits up to the thigh. All of the girls were pleasant, pretty, young and white. The girl that had given me the tour and the drink was a tall leggy blonde with nice, medium sized tits. One girl was sitting putting on her make up. She was around 27 and had long curly black hair. There was a young blonde girl (called Sam) with the most amazinig tits. She was 19 (I found that out on my next visit when I chose her.) The girl that I chose was called Michelle. I dont know why I chose her over the rest but I have no regrets, indeed, I went back to her a few times later. Michelle and I walked past reception where the receptionist told Michelle that I was booked in for an hour. She showed me down stairs and took me in to one of the cabins. The cabin was fairly brightly lit ( I just hate it when you go in some place and it is so dark that you cant see what you are doing. If I wanted to be in the dark I would have went on a ghost train). There was a semi circular bed with the obligatory towel fan folded in the middle. Every wall and even the ceiling was mirrored, giving the impression that the bed was actually round. There was a TV which was switched off and there was a bathroom containing a jacuzzi and a shower. Michelle told me to relax and she put on the TV. A porno movie came on. Michelle then said that she would be back in a minute and left the room. (Where do they go when they do this?) I lay there looking at my fat body in the mirror on the ceiling and tried not to get a hard on watching the movie. A few minutes later Michelle came back. She knelt up beside me on the bed and asked if I wanted talc or oil. I will spare you the idle chit chat that went on and cut to the chase. She asked me if I had been before. When I told her that I had not she asked if I had been to any of the other saunas. I told her I had and then told her which ones. She then asked me if there was anything else she could do for me. I asked her what was on offer and she proceeded to tell me The Menu. Hand relief twenty five oral thirty sex forty A bit of everything fifty. I opted for a bit of everything. She then got up and washed the talc off of her hands and then took off her dress. She was very young looking - and I mean VERY young looking. She told me she was twent four, she looked about seventeen with no fat hips. Perhaps that was what attracted me to her. She had no tits whatsoever and a very slim waiste. She played with my cock - touching it with fleeting soft touches - and running her nails gently along the hairs on my thighs. She leant over and literally blew on my cock. It didnt take long before my twelve inch solid member was pointing skywards (who is writing this anyway, you or me? What is wrong with a little bit of exageration now and again?) OK, so I got a hard on. Michelle produced a condom and put it on. She then started to suck my cock. She had really short hair which never obstructed the view. Not only was I getting a smashing blow job, but I had a perfect view of it, not only from full on, but also in the myriad reflections due to the mirorred surroundings. I was really enjoying this, but I did not want to shoot too soon, so I asked Michelle if I could give her oral. She said yes. She lay back on the bed with her legs apart. She obviously played on the youthful look, for her pussy was shaved bare. Not a single hair to be seen. Now how many of you out there have licked out a girl from a massage parlour and been rather put off by too much fish? Not a problem with Michelle. She had obviously had a shower since her last client for she smelled and tasted very clean. I should have been a gynaecologist for I just love licking and fingering pussy, especially ones like hers. Not only was it smoothe and bald, but was quite small. Two fingers was the most that I put in. It was heaven. I kept this up for about fifteen minutes. Michelle shut her eyes and moved slowly and gently with the occassional moan. OK, I know she was probably putting it on, but it made me feel useful. After a while I told her that it was her time to do some work and that I would like her to go on top. This she did wonderfuly. What a pleasant was to spend an hour. So that was my first visit. As I mentioned above, I went with Michelle a few more times on subsequent visits. I want to tell you about other times there. I dont want to spend too much time going in to detail about the girls because there is a relatively high level of staff turnover. Instead I just want to give you a feel for the place. One of the girls that I went with a few times was the blonde girl I mentioned above. Her name was Sam and one day when I was with her I asked her if she had any toys with her. She had. She produced a bag which contained love eggs, slim and thick vibrators and a massive strap on dildo. There was also a few packets of batteries and a tube of KY jelly. Sam certainly enjoyed using these toys. She spent ages with the vibrating egg on her clit and told me to stick my fingers right up her pussy so that I could feel the vibrations as she came. This was no pretend orgasm. In fact she loved it so much that we lost complete track of the time. I went in at nine oclock for a one hour session and it was half past eleven when we left. I was asked to pay an extra tenner at reception for staying so long, but this was worth every penny. Sam never asked for any more than the sixty pounds we agreed, although she did say that it should have been a hundred, but because she had such a good time then sixty would do. One other girl that I was with (Donna) on another ocassion certainly knew her stuff. She could such a dick (without a condom initially) till it was throbbing and then mount it and fuck up and down on it so gracefully. Indeed, I was in another sauna only a couple of weeks ago (Parkgrove House - see below) and I got exactly the same treatment. It turned out that the girl (Margaret) is Donnas sister. Small world. Well that concludes my first article to this site. I often thought it funny that there was no page for Glasgow because there are plenty of places to go. I have listed a dozen saunas and massage parlours that I know of in Glasgow. I have only personaly been to six of them (the first six) and have never set foot in the others. Perhaps if someone out there knows what they are like they can do what I have done and write about them. I can recommend the Carlton, but it could be that you have been to another place in Glasgow and been ripped off, so why not spread the word and let someone learn from your mistake? GLASGOW SAUNAS Blythswood Sauna, York Street Glasgow.0141 204 3434 Venus sauna. Sandyford Place Lane 0141 221 8722 St Enoch Club, Howard street 0141226 5258 Tropical Palms Holland Street 0141248 4062 Parkgrove House. Opposite the Lorne Hotel 0141 334 6006 The Carlton, Carlton Place 0141429 4202 The following I have NOT been to. The Royale 32 Granville Street 0141221 1533 Hydepark Sauna, 150 Hyd3epark street, near the old Daily Record Building 0141221 5991 Oasis Sauna, Bath Street (city centre) 0141 332 6092 Aquarius 6a Park Quadrant 0141 332 9344 Femmes. Victoria Road 0141423 7424 20 Brunswick Street (lane at Clydesdale bank) 0141 552 1181 Thanks for reading


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1994-98 by Atta. Permission is granted to freely copy, modify, and distribute this document in whole or in part, provided that it is not done for profit and that this entire copyright notice remains attached.