Cold hard cash

In this industry things move fast, first thing i was browsing through seeking arrangements and well i guess you could say I’ve moved to the next level. I’m not addicted to drugs, alcohol or sex but i am addicted to money. In fact I’d say my appetite for cold hard cash is almost insatiable, the more i make the more i desire.

My hunger for money exceeds the value most people tend to place on it, no amount could ever be enough to fully satisfy me. I suppose it might not be the money itself I’m hooked on, rather the thrill of the chase in receiving it. This is not a new sensation for me, the only new thing is the way I’m earning it.

I’ve always been fascinated with the sex industry whilst never expecting myself to dabble in it, i’ve enthralled myself in every documentary about prostitution, trophy wives and the sex trade. I’ve read and researched on almost every element of this subverted section of society without a shred of disdain. The funny thing is that the thought of entering it myself never crossed my mind when my love of money, entrepreneurial mindset and carefree attitude towards sex meant that i was perfectly organised to fall into it. And fall into it head first is what I’ve done.

I’m continuing with my first-born, sugaring. Personally i can’t understand the taboo of this activity when apps like Tinder are so main stream and accepted in society. In my mind it’s entirely a beast of the same nature – the only difference is that money changes hands. Sugaring to me is exciting, the thrill of not knowing the person you meet, yet understanding that you must become everything they desire in order to earn your pay. Going home with strange men, keeping secrets from my inner circle and most importantly counting the cold hard cash on the journey home in the back of a taxi. I love the fact that i can browse the sites looking at all the profiles of all the men each purporting to be something different, the sugar daddy with the perfect arrangement, gods gift to women when all i see is dollar signs. At present i have 3 consistent sugar daddies, but i prefer to refer to them as clients. There is seldom difference between me and an escort, except for the important ones such as the fact that i work independently and that every client wants the girlfriend experience.

I love the moment I walk out the door, claiming to be off to another meeting with friends; a concert, a bar or merely their houses when in reality i am off to be dazzled, admired and paid. Of course not every experience is wonderful nor glamorous, but i like to think of myself as a high-class sugar baby. I don’t work for peanuts, i have a short and exclusive list of clients with each i share a level of chemistry. I refuse to beg for money, and why should i have to. I know what I’m worth, and i am only worth men with the right means to treat me how i wish to be treated, i look innocent and appear sweet but i am a business woman down to my core, every transaction is business not pleasure but they’d never know it.Whilst Madison is the name i choose, she can be anything you want her to be for the right price. I am exceptionally good at reading people and situations alike, i can scan rooms and take temperatures in a heart beat and that’s what makes me good at my job.

My newest indulgence into this world is the art of sensual massage. I work with a cluster of girls in the city, operating out of 5 star apartments and catering to the city’s financially elite. Although the company takes a percentage of our earnings the real money is to be made in tips. I thouroughly enjoy this job and it is easy, runs to a tight schedule and reaps huge rewards. I love my body and i figure i may as well be admired, complimented and rewarded whilst i still have it, it’s like heroin for the ego. During these sessions i have clients boast about their high paying jobs, flash their current bank balance in my face and talk down to me like i could only dream. I find this highly gratifying and amusing because when it comes down to it, i earn more in a week than they could ever come close to. It’s my little secret and my little box full of money, and nobody suspects a thing.

Xoxo, Emeline.



The sugar bowl.

It’s been a year since I’ve last posted, and in this time, things have changed drastically for me. After becoming increasingly disillusioned with the lack of money I’m able to make within the constraints of my retail job whilst studying, I have become somewhat of an entrepreneur.

They say sugar makes you sweeter, I say sugar makes you richer.  I stumbled across a site called and my life instantly changed. They call me a sugar baby which in vanilla terms means that I seek out arrangements with wealthy men on this site. In this context, an arrangement refers to a mutually beneficial relationship between a young woman and an older man. Of course, the site insists that it does not promote sexual services or anything of an explicit nature but naturally this is not the case. Some girls on this site whom I’ve had interactions with explain naively that there is a huge difference between a sugar baby and a prostitute or an escort, but the reality of the situation is that i am a whore. I am paid for sex, and that is what being a ‘sugarbaby’ boils down to.

I am relatively new to this way of life, they call me Madison and the further i go down this rabbit hole the more she becomes a part of me. I’m still not entirely convinced of my emotional state regarding this whole affair, I swing between moods frequently half of me feeling empowered whilst the other part slut shames myself. I’ve never conformed to societal expectations and moralities however even for me, this is a beast of a different nature. I find that writing my feelings down helps me as it is a way to diffuse my emotional state into something far more logical, i would also intend a blog like this to be a useful tool to any other girls considering going down this path as I’ve found there is not a large conversation to draw knowledge and empathy from which can make you feel isolated and intimidated.

So far, I’ve been out with 6 different men and I’ve slept with two, one was a pleasant experience the other makes me want to crawl out of my skin. The biggest aspect I struggle to cope with is acting, I’m not myself during these dates nor do I want to be, I feel like I’m keeping the real part of me separate when i become Madison, she is the one that does her nails the way she is told too, she is the one who agrees to be blindfolded on all fours and be fucked from behind by a man 16 years older than her before walking away with a wad of cash. I’m growing to like Madison and beginning to accept her as part of me but the scary part is trying not to lose myself the closer i become to her. It’s almost as if I’m dissociating myself from the experience but i can’t see another way of continuing.

I have had a perfectly stable upbringing, i have everything going for me in life, with a large circle of friends and family. I’m studying whilst holding down a regular job, I’m not addicted to any substances and i don’t NEED this money. But i want it. I’ll write further in depth about my experiences throughout this process in the near future.

XOXO, Emeline.







Feel the rainbow, taste the rainbow!

I personally am astonished to bear witness to the incredible amount of vitriol and bigotry still present in the world in 2015 in the form of prejudice and hatefulness individuals are projecting onto one another, person to person and community to community.

Shows such as the Jetsons predicted an idealised version of their expectations for the era that we are currently inhabit, this future had visions of flying cars and hover-boards, but they failed to imagine a different kind of social future. Back in the decades these programs were aired the people consuming them would have laughed if someone were to tell them that there would be an African-American president of the United states or countries with female Prime Ministers. But that shows just how far society has progressed, to allow these achievements to have occurred. So to me, it begs the question of how on earth are we still contesting each-others basic human rights.

Science has proved many a time over that a persons sexuality is not a matter of rolling out of the gay side of the bed one morning, rather it is due to a complex formula of how we are all made up, in a time long before we have the capacity to form prejudice against one another. You could argue that with a persons sexuality being pre-determined you have as much say in the matter as if you’re born a boy or girl, black or white, able bodied or disabled. Being LGBTQI is not a choice, it is not a decision and it can not be changed, and those who share this genetic makeup deserve their human rights just as much as anyone else.

It appals me that every time i browse through facebook i am confronted with people comparing marriage equality to pedophilia, to beastiality and declaring that homosexuals should be killed. And the most confusing and illogical aspect of this debate to me is that the majority of these people wield their religious beliefs as a right to bigotry. My issue with this is that if these people are so set on justifying their actions by the Bible, the Torah or the Quran why do they themselves not abide by every passage within them? YOU CANNOT PICK AND CHOOSE. And even more importantly so you cannot simultaneously demand respect and acceptance for your beliefs whilst condemning and denying others theres.

Christianity for example declares that no one sin is greater than another and that a founding cornerstone of the religion is love and respect for one another. So i cannot seem to understand how then these Christians can ridicule marriage equality whilst participating in or ignoring sex before marriage, infidelity and divorce, picking and choosing the aspects that are convenient for them only serves to further perpetrate the notion of their ignorance. Why is it that Christians are the first to get sensitive about the sanctimony of marriage and how marriage equality is impinging on their sacred religious ceremony whilst they have been doing just that with divorce for decades? How many Christian politicians have been caught with their pants around their ankles and their dick in some young girls mouth whilst married?

As with the Muslim faith, it has surprised me to see prominent members of the Muslim community preaching their disgust toward marriage equality. The reason for my astonishment at this in particular is due to the fact that their community is viewed with such hatred and suspicion at the moment that they would dare to perpetrate the rejection of another minority community so vehemently. I feel like they are making a large mistake in this regard as the same people who seek to deny the rights and existence of the LGBTQI community generally are the same people persecuting Muslims. On the other hand, supporters of human rights and the progression of society such as myself and many others were the people standing up for the Muslim community as well, were the people attempting to dispel the belief that all Muslim’s are bomb toting terrorists. But by adding to the hatred of opposing marriage equality they are also adding to the hatred of their own religion by offending and upsetting the very people who initially offered support.

Religion is not an excuse for bigotry the same way drugs and alcohol are not an excuse for rape. For fucks sake, fully grown adults are seemingly incapable of taking ownership for their own thoughts, words and actions. Hiding behind these views is just a grown up version of the old primary school favourite ‘No offence but i hate you’. If you really completely feel that something is wrong and you disagree, grow the fuck up and own it. A common phrase floating around facebook is ‘God created Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve’ which is usually followed by a barrage of vile cruel words delivered with the intention of hurting another human being. As an agnostic individual to this i feel further and further removed from the concept and guidelines of religion. I feel that i want no part in religion if the real cornerstones and guiding principles are ignorance, hatred, cruelty and malice. You cannot launch a tirade of misplaced anger and judgement upon a community and then preach that your religion will be the only blessed group of people at the end. In my opinion the only damn community going to anywhere resembling heaven or a pleasant afterlife are the people who truly live by the principles of fairness and equality with no ifs, buts or maybes. There is no place for ‘ i stand for equality.. but’ that does not exist in this case it’s black and white there are no grey areas with acceptance.

And on a final note, to all those ignorant people claiming that people choose their sexuality and that same-sex couples that wish to marry each-other are just playing house and pretending, i say why? No seriously, why?

Why the fuck would any sane person on this planet choose to discriminated against, to have acts of violence committed against them, to risk their position in their family, to be denied basic rights? Why would any single person on this planet willingly choose to be a victim of prejudice. If you don’t believe the science just think about that, how much easier their lives would be if they could ‘choose’ to be straight, to be just like everybody else. Why would decades and millions of people fight so hard to be recognised and treated with dignity when they could just choose just to be handed it on a silver platter.

In my eyes the overiding problem is an extreme lack of empathy amongst the global community, just because you, like myself may not be part of the LGBTQI grouping does not give you a right to wipe your hands of their struggles.

Just for one second imagine if you had to grow up confused, ashamed and being told that your rights and your love mattered less than everybody else’s.

And to all you homophobes out there, if you’ve watched lesbian porn and encourage chicks to hook up in bars, then hell yeah to you, because you my friend are supporting gay rights!

Do it like a dude

So basically we all know girls love the guy who drives them crazy, and such level of crazy is normally achieved through the good ol’ method of playing hard to get. These days playing hard to get is a complicated technological game of leaving the exact right amount of time between replying to messages so as not to let the other person make wild assumptions that you might actually want to see them or whatever. And this is one area in life where sadly men and women are completely unequal with slim chances of closing the gaping divide.

Men have one up on us here girls, and i for one am embarking on a mission to turn the tables and give them a taste of their own faux cherry flavoured medicine. I have spent many a night sitting up bored out of my mind trying to forcefully resist the urge to text a boy living in fear of being labelled a clingy girl. But this is no more!

I’ve been sleeping with this one guy for roughly a year and in this time he has perfected the art of leaving me hanging and choking on my own fear of rejection after sending him a risky drunken message at 2am. I have also noticed that the more often i text him the less keen he seems, and whilst i know this is a fucked up charade and the epitome of silliness but i feel like we all know this silly bit of social etiquette ain’t going anywhere.

So the last few weeks i have begun my own social experiment, which started when he messaged me out of the blue and i suddenly grew into a strong independent woman and refused the lure of replying. And damn it pays off. He has been messaging me like a crackwhore trying to find a dealer in the middle of the atlantic ocean. Basically my method to treat them mean and keep the keen is as follows:

1) Only reply to their texts on their third attempt.

2) When you reply make it something vague and do not exceed two lines.

3) Resist the urge to get clingy and add in a little bit of ‘when are we catching up!?’

4) Be blunt, as in they text you something sweet and you literally just reply ‘I’m busy’ or ‘nah sorry’

5) Kick the fuck back and enjoy the satisfaction of wearing his balls as your sparkling new earrings.

Ciao bambinos, em.

How to be a harlot

You meet a guy, enjoy a casual flirt, get a little connected and decide he’s exactly the type of guy you want in your bed, right this minute. And then he drops the crowd pleaser… ‘i have a girlfriend‘ and you feel the stinging heat of humiliation/overwhelming sadness slapping you in the face like a sack full of fat cats.

And thus the internal battle of angel vs devil ignites deep in the pit of your stomach as you start a mental sliding scale of exactly how bad would it be if you went there. You keep your filthy morality a secret from your friends, living in fear that they will catch you out as the adulterous harlot you really are until you have a few too many cosmos on a night out and spew the ugly truth everywhere. To your surprise they respond with empathy and you have a good old chuckle about how danger and infidelity spice up the sex, and so your concerns have been neutralised and you set out on a plan to seduce said boy. Not to condone such behaviour ever *wink wink*, here is how you become the savviest other woman out there and the Queen of all bitches.

1) Establish how much of a bitch the girlfriend is, if she rates between 6-10 on the devil’s barometer you’re good to go.

2) Understand how miserable she makes his life and how so.. i.e does she complain about the colour of his socks, write death notes to his mother and so on.

3) Figure out how hot she is and if you’re in with a shot. Sadly unless you rate a solid 2 points higher than her on the looks scale or she’s got a couple points on you on the bitch scale you’re out of luck.

4) Get flirty and hinty, you are trying to create a fabulous vision of why you are such a great human, do this even if you are only creating a mirage for the hell of it but be prepared to comfort him when he tries to dive into that fabulous pool and ends up with a mouth of sand.

5) Try and initiate alone time together and have at least 7 different topics to bring up randomly whenever he mentions her name, after all we are trying to erase all memory of her from his mind.

6) Stalk his facebook profile consistently in the hope of seeing a newly single status hanging on his wall. Chances are slim but damn that false hope is warm and comforting.

7) Bake for him, after all the way to a man’s heart is his stomach ladies. Just make sure they’re space cakes (pot brownies) so he’s high as a kite and mistakes you for her. Alternatively spiking his water with a touch of the Russian poison can be just as effective.

8) Wear all of your perfume at once and rub up against him any chance you get so that he’ll go and see her stinking of your favourite brittany spears scent and she’ll dump him for you.

9) Confuse him, print out cardboard copies of her face at office works and buy a cheap wig from the two dollar shop. As long as you don’t speak he’ll never know and you’ll both be happy.

10) And lastly lure him back to your den and swap out the lube for a bottle of trusty super glue, and babe that man will be yours forever and always (for or against his will).

Lastly, if you do not follow all of these tips in this exact order your chances are slim to none, so i’d take my advice with an extra dose of seriousness.

Over and out, Emeline.

Land in his bed, repeat yesterdays mistakes.

So i broke the drought rather surprisingly last night at 2am, by means of driving like a crackhead to a booty call that rose from the dead. Well no, not really but i hadn’t seen him in so long he may as well have been a ghost.

It was great, he’s great, the sex was great, i had a great time, great sex, great boy, great.

But now the great old pregnancy scare memories have come flooding back like a river of doom that has serious plans to drown me. Man i did not miss this shit. And this time for once i worry that my fears have legs to stand on because oh we were not careful.. not one iota. I mean in the past when i was younger i had adopted the typical invincible me attitude of most teens and flicked pregnancy warnings and safe sex mantras off like an annoying mosquito dancing around my head. Now i’m older, more anxious and far less stupid. Less stupid until last night i guess, i should know better! right daddy!?

My brain is dancing the crazy dance at the moment, i can’t sleep and i can feel myself launching into full panic mode. I know i seem melodramatic right now and i really did not intend to use this blog as a sketch pad for all my inner crazy but right now i just need to spew my panic out somewhere in the universe.

I’m used to playing it pretty hard and loose with safe sex, just skirting around the rules but somehow always pulling it off. But by that i meant if i was skipping pills occasionally or taking them at the wrong time. This time however we got caught up in the spontaneity of the moment and i forgot i stopped taking the pill since 2 weeks prior and he didn’t think to use anything, and basically we were just two big stupid babies who had no business having sex.

AGH! Love from your girl failure.

P.S in the words of Beyonce.. If i was a boy… shit they have it easy.

Dirty, filthy standards

Firstly, i must admit that i am a walking contradiction – i hold impossibly high standards and criteria to which every guy must conform to before i give them a chance.. and then constantly complain about being single. And you know what? I blame disney! Ever since we’re small snotty faced children we are presented with an idea of what a man should be and how they should look and treat us. We are taught to go after to bad guys, because they are a project and we can change them! right ladies? Wrong. This never works and we never learn, we complain then  never lift a god damn finger to do anything about it and we friend zone all the good guys and get hurt by all the bad guys. And lastly, and most importantly we will never admit to ourselves that we are in fact the cause, the problem and the solution to our depressing, miserable, lonely, cat obsessed love woes.

But all hope is not lost girlies, do not despair the first step to recovery is admitting that we have a problem and i will be the first to stand up and say “Hi, I’m Emeline and i am addicted to bad boys”. Now i hope you all just introduced yourselves to your collection of stuffed animals using the above statement with me. and now it is time to begin the 10 step program of how to recognise a good guy and let go of those damn sexually prohibitive high standards of ours ladies.

1) Tear up that list of physical attributes your dream man must have, and i mean all of them… Tanned skin, green eyes, that perfectly sculpted facial hair… There is no place for shallowness here. And i do not mean you have to settle for an obese man with the body odour of a packet of cheese and onion chips. Rather that if he has a couple of the things you’re after and you feel the attraction stop measuring him up against the bloody ken doll image in your mind.

2) Ignore his nationality. Now here i’m touching on a touchy subject where most people begin to perform the awkward song of “I’m not racist but….” Now firstly and lastly let me say this, we’re all a little bit racist. Now get over yourselves i’m not accusing everyone of being card carrying members of the kkk, rather i’m referring to the statements that i’ve heard come out of the mouths of every single girl i know, things like ‘oh, i’d never date a muslim’, and ‘this asian guy is in to me but i’d never be satisfied with 3 inches’. We’re all guilty of it however, if the chemistry is there our pre conceived ideas are only sabotaging a possible shot at happiness.

3) Dress sense. This may sound like a silly thing to mention, but i kid you not the amount of times i have been into a guy and then have slowly felt the cold breeze of ‘i’m about to fuck you off’ blow against the nape of my neck when i’ve been stalking his facebook photos and have come across some unflattering outfits. I mean for gods sake, this is the most shallow reason to blow somebody off that has ever occurred but it is not uncommon. Let go of the way he dresses, this is one of the actual tangible things you CAN change about a fella.

4) Dollar, dollar bill y’all. Ah yes, good old hard cold cash ay. Most of the lovely ladies i associate with are by no stretch of the imagination gold diggers however money still seems to play an important role in which guy we choose to spend our time with. Valid concerns for this issue are the thoughts that maybe he won’t have enough money to go out and do fun things together (even when you are paying your own way) like holidays, nights out and the rest. The other more silly idea for the year 2015 is that having a smaller bank account somehow makes him less of a man. But really, if you’ve both got enough cash to have a good time together here and there don’t let this concern put the brakes on something fun. And as long as they are engaged in work or study or actively looking for ways to improve their current situation that shows you that they have drive and motivation and that is far more important than if they can blow their nose with a bank note or if they have to settle for a regular old kleenex.

5) Their mamma. Oh yes, this problem comes up often. Traditionally it has been demonstrated in modern culture that it is the guy who is shit scared to meet the girls fambam, but honestly i don’t think guys put as much thought into it as what girls do. The idea that you may not like a guys family and therefore he loses some of his appeal is laughable. I mean just do your best to cut visits and contact time with them down to a minimum and thank the stars those people who scare the living daylights out of you created a man so perfect for you in every other way.

6) S-E-X. So i’m the first to say that sex is a hugely important part of a successful relationship, i mean why not just have them as a friend if they can’t satisfy you right? I hereby give you permission to cut them loose if the sex is shizenhausen after a while but give them a chance! It is not an acceptable reason to go whinging to your friends that it sucked and he didn’t get you off after your first sexual encounter with the lad. Especially if you’d both sunk a few litres of vodka and had to coordination of a drunk skunk whilst doing the dirty. I mean how low would you feel if he ran back to his mates and laughed about your hilarious attempt at sucking him off?

7) Living at home. Okay, this one sucks, it sucks real bad. But there is always a way to work around the parental situation. Most advicey giving people will state ‘if he lives at home, run a mile!’ I disagree completely. Those advicey people clearly don’t understand how high the cost of living is these days! And you can always find a way around this issue, it is no reason to send a perfectly good man to the scrap heap. However i must add a time limit on this one, if they’re still living at home past the age of 25 there may be some deeper issues going on with their motivation that may need a little stalking, pinpointing and eventual running from.

8) Tom, Dick and Harry. The boy’s friends, every lad these days seems to come with his own set of ‘the boys’. Now there is no escaping your boy’s boys so suck it up laugh with your mouth and frown with your eyes so nobody notices your irritation of being around with them. Truly if one of your standards is that you have to like his mates, enjoy being single for eternity my chum.

9) Boys and their toys. Boys will be boys, no matter what you do and if they don’t still act like little versions of big boys they’re probably batting for the other team/are very good at concealing things. All guys love trains/video games/sports/watching sports/beer/being gross and ladies, we just have to accept this. Although what they do might seem dull and sleep inducing to us, remember that they’re not too fond of chick flicks/beauty regimes/ gossiping and wine. Get over it, let them have their interests and if you don’t i hope you prepare yourself well for the day your husband admits to you that he has a crush on your male neighbour.

10) Awkwardness. So guys aren’t always that skilled at saying the right things at the right times and this symptom can become apparent as early as the first date. This usually rears it’s discouraging head when they fondly recall that one time they had insane toilet troubles after eating all those tacos. I understand it is reasonable to completely repulsed by this, however if you let these untimely anecdotes write off a dude you’re doing yourself a disservice because even the most attractive lads are prone to dropping filthy stories of their toilet habits into casual conversation.

So lasses in your future endeavours with selecting a member of the opposite sex from the delightful menu of man candy please keep this steps in mind, because like my mother used to say (she never said this) High standards are the best form of contraception.

Xoxo, your hopeless gal, Emeline.