Juxtapositions and Justice

Good evening and greetings from LL towers where I have just landed after a long day at my incall pad in Glasgow. I took some time out today to have a long think about my chaotic life and have reached a decision. I am cutting down on my touring schedule for several reasons.

- I need to spend more time at home with La Princess.

- I need to devote more time to Uni work.

- I want to devote more time to my role as an activist.

- I want to hit the gym with a vengence and get back to a size 12.


So, I will no longer be visiting Aberdeen on a monthly basis. Amanda and I today agreed that we will still visit Inverness for two days a month, because we both love it, all of it, our regular clients, the laughs we have and our wee treat of a nice steak at the end of a day's work. I will also visit Dundee for two days a month because I have built up a group of lovely regular guys there too and always look forward to my visits there.

After that, who knows ? I have a couple of good friends in Newcastle and may tour there from time to time, I'm always open to new ideas. Just so you know, on my adultwork profile I keep a diary of where I'll be from day to day and you can access it using the link on the front page of my site where it says ;

"Glasgow incalls now available. Please click here to check my availability diary".


Aside from that, it's looking very good on the quoshing of the proposed amendments by Trish Godman. The Justice Committee seemed largely unconvinced by the proposals before them and it was very encouraging that the police were not supportive of the proposed changes too. They felt that prostitution is never going to simply "go away" and seemed happy with the powers they have at present. Let's hope that the voice of reason is heard. Fingers, legs and everything else crossed.

Nite,

LL xx

Laments and London

Good evening and greetings from Central London.

First things first, thanks to all who sent messages and emails about the unsavoury character I met the other day in Glasgow. I'm absolutely fine, I'm just very glad things turned out as they did. I decided to report him to the authorities for a number of reasons. I am a tall and strong lady who was able to push him off but he was so full of anger that I can't help thinking, "What if the lady he had booked had been relatively new, not to mention small and slight ?" It doesn't bear thinking about. I am also quite ... erm ... "vocal", so I don't want to think about what would happen if he met a shy retiring lady. Finally, I don't want to think about what would have happened if the buzzer hadn't gone, which threw him off course. Ok, onwards and upwards, if we were all to dwell on the "what might have been", I'm sure we'd go stir crazy.

I arrived in London today and made it to my hotel at about 12, which was a good thing too as I had a 4 hour extended lunch date booked for 12.15. The gentleman concerned is a guy I've been speaking to online for quite a while and we were both looking forward to meeting each other very much. I think it's fair to say we both had a brilliant afternoon. Our first port of call was Coco De Mer, an erotic shop in Soho, where he had ( he said ) an item of interest to show me. Nothing could have prepared me for what it was - a butt plug with a clock on the circular handle.

We pondered the purpose of that for a while, "clockwatching" is frowned upon with ladies of negotiable virtue and besides, how would she twist around to read the time unless she was a contortionist ? No, we came to the conclusion that it must be for the other party. ( I'm trying to be PC here, after all it could be two males ). But why would the other party need to view the time ? Rather helpfully, the shop assistant informed us that it is "for the man has everything". Right, that's Dad's Christmas present sorted then. I'll leave it on his doorstep and run.

From our brief delve into kinky indulgences we went to lunch, my absolute favourite, steak with bearnaise sauce and all the trimmings, it was delish. Finally, we went back to the hotel and had some fun. It's wonderful when you feel so totally comfortable with someone that you can just lounge about the bed chatting and laughing whilst wearing your birthday suit in between bouts of eroticisim.

So, all in all it's been an absolutely fantastic day, with more on the cards for tomorrow. On that note I'm off to twitter to find some willing person to take me to the London Dungeons tomorrow. I am absolutely feckin' determined, I'm going this time.

Nite,

LL xx

Politicians and Psychos

Good evening and greetings from home where I am curled up with boy cat and thoroughly enjoying a cool glass of wine. In case you missed it, I was in the Scottish Herald last Sunday, they picked up on a quote of mine in the submission I did to the Scottish Parliament ;

http://www.heraldscotland.com/news/home-news/sex-workers-warn-politicians-you-re-putting-our-lives-at-risk-1.1013128

Overall I think it was a good article and well written. Well done to Tom Gordon for some impartial and fair reporting. It makes a refreshing change to the lowlife scum who "out" ladies by publishing their real names and details. I also thought that Amy came across brilliantly as a very intelligent and well informed woman. Good on her.

Today I was doing incalls at my place in Glasgow and it was very busy with some guys who had pre-booked and others calling for last minute availability. There was one particular client who had pre-booked who I was feeling a little bit nervous about, because he wanted to be dominant. Now, I enjoy being submissive and I don't get to do it very often, but there needs to be huge amounts of trust on both sides. Obviously on a first meeting I'm not going to allow anyone to tie me up, that would only happen over time and when I feel comfortable with it. I needn't have worried, the guy was a perfect gent and I really enjoyed our role play and the session afterwards.

I wish the same could be said of the next client.

He called to arrange a brief meeting this afternoon and had a tremendously difficult time finding my apartment. It's really not that difficult, it's just off Argyll Street,right smack bang in the centre of Glasgow. Once inside the building he called again, now irate.

"Where's the bloody apartment, I can't find it."

"I did send you a text about 20 mins ago with the full address."

Nevertheless, I calmly explained to him where to go and eventually he got to me. When he got to the door he was visibly agitated and jittery. To cut a very long story very short, the guy was unable to get or at least maintain an erection, so he decided the way out of this was to remove the condom when I wasn't looking and try and cram his flaccid penis inside. I spotted what he was at and spun around.

"What the hell do you think you're doing ?"

He pushed me down and tried to do it again. I am a tall strong lassie so pushed him off and told him if he tried it again I would scream the apartment block down. He glared at me and said,

"I think I should go, you're obviously going to tell all your escort friends not to go near me because of what I've done."

At that moment I caught a look in his eye and it was a dark rage, and a deep contempt for me, whether it was because I am a woman or whether it was because of my job I'll never know. I knew what I had to do. I smiled sweetly and said;

"Don't be silly, I wouldn't dream of it. I understand completely that you got lost in the moment."

That seemed to appease him temporarily until I excused myself to go the kitchen, I wanted to text my buddy and see if she was nearby.

"Are you going to the kitchen to get something for me ? Just because I took the condom off ?"

Ok, he was obviously far more disturbed than I thought.

"Not at all darling, I was just getting a drink of water."

It has been many, many years since I felt truly frightened whilst doing my job, but when I returned to the room his face had blackened again and I admit now, I was very afraid. There was a palpable tension between us and I really thought that at any moment he was going to lurch forwards.

Someone on high must have been looking out for me because at that moment my next appointment pressed the buzzer, having arrived early for his appointment. So in the end he snarled, threw the money at me and made for the door. I made sure to let him go ahead and not to let him behind me at any point and then finally, he was gone. ( For those who want to criticise because I didn't have the money beforehand, I often say to my clients, you can choose to leave without paying afterwards if you don't mind a 5 foot 9 woman in PVC chasing you down Argyll Street. Besides, in this case it was the least of my worries.)

So I drove home with an immense sense of relief that today was over.

When I got home I checked my emails and there was an email from Catherine from the IUSW, to thank me for agreeing to come onboard as an activist and to advise of our current plans for lobbying.

So tomorrow is another day. It's back to squaring up to the anti-prostitution brigade. It is my fervent hope that I never have to square up to another man like I did today.

Nite,

LL xx

Italian Stallions

Today, I allowed my mind to drift back to the last encounter I had with an Italian Stallion. Well, not so much stallion as terrified yearling. The agency I worked for called me one Saturday night;

"Darling, a group of lovely lads have just been on to see if they can arrange some fun for their condemned friend."

"Pardon ?"

"A stag darling, he's getting married."

"Are you on drugs ? There is absolutely no way I am going out to a hotel full of sozzled idiots determined to outshine each other in testosterone."

"Be reasonable, one of them is a regular, they're good lads and it's strictly one on one, you and the groom."

*Sigh*

So I arrived at the hotel, flicked my hair back and knocked on the door. Cue a humongous cheer. I knew this was a woeful idea.( Reason number 716 why I now work independently ). To their credit, they were indeed gentlemen and it didn't take me too long to work out who the happy groom to be was. That would be him then, slumped in a heap on the bed.

"Be good to him, he's had a few."

You don't say.

The rest of the merry entourage left to go back to the bar and we were alone.

"Would you like a nice massage to begin with ?"

"I am veeery pished."

"Hmmmm, never mind. I can't promise water to wine but we'll see."

After a period of time it became more than obvious that the only action this poor chappy was going to be capable of was pushing out some quality ZZZZ's. So we just lay and cuddled for a bit.

"You pleeease tell my freeends I ... "

"Leave it in my capables."

Precisely sixty minutes after they had left us alone, the support squad were back and knocking gingerly at the door. The happy groom to be was snoring lightly so I ruffled my hair, smudged my lipstick and opened the door.

"Well ?"

"One woman's gain is a Godawful loss to the rest of us."

They erupted. "WAAAAAYYY HAYYYYY ! GOOD MAN YERSELF!!"

I left them to it and wearing a broad grin, I tottered to the lift and to my waiting driver.


LL xx

Tempers, Taxis and TLC

If I ever catch the man who invented the Glasgow road system, I'm going to punch him straight in the face. Actually, he's probably dead, so it's a moot point. The reason for my irritation is because living in my sat nav is a woman with absolutely no concept of one way systems or indeed, bus and cycle only lanes. Getting around Glasgow in my trusty Astra has now become a game of running the gauntlet with Taxi drivers spitting out their "Gregg's" sausage rolls in temper because I have just driven up one of their precious bus lanes. On Thursday I was heading to my incall base in Glasgow for the day and by the time I got there I was like a Tasmanian She-devil.

Only in Glasgow do you have a two lane, one way road which when you round the corner morphs into a one lane, two way street, effectively meaning I am now on the wrong side of the road thanks to my feckin' sat nav and what's more, the self satisfied smug taxi man beside me won't let me in to the right side. In mitigation of the above, I should just add that I once drove the whole length of Prince's Street in Edinburgh and got away with it. A policeman stepped out in front of the car and raised his hand.

"Shit".

"Err, what do you think you're doing ?"

"Well Sir I'm from Ireland and I was just following my sat nav."

*Cue raised eyebrows and a sympathetic smile*

"On your way then, but just so you know this is taxis and buses only".

"Sure I'm awful sorry Sir, so I am."

The helpless Oirish maiden thing works everytime. :)

In further mitigation of the above I would also like to state that I have a deep love and admiration of Glasgow taxi drivers. They make me laugh until I think I need to clench, you know, there. Recently I had a taxi take me from my base to an outcall ;

"I wasn't always a taxi driver you know."

"Is that right ?"

"Aye, I was a world class brain surgeon but in the end the beer shakes got me."

"Err, right."

"Mind you, so did the whiskey, the vodka and the bacardi."

As a complete aside, it was with a large dose of mirth that I noted the Belgian government have begun issuing families with two chickens, to cut down on waste. I couldn't help but think what would happen if Glasgow City Council followed suit, the neds would have a field day. Before long we would have underground chicken fighting and worse, pimped up chickens with "full body kit" to include flashing lights on the underbelly and an enhanced "exhaust" system. Dear me, it doesn't bear thinking about.

Anyway, now I'm in Dundee and thoroughly enjoying a cool glass of white wine after a busy day. Self TLC. It's what I call "No Meow, No Mum" time, just peace and quiet. I'm thinking about my forthcoming London tour and the endless possibilities for perving in Soho. ( Can women go into peep shows ?) This is whilst I'm lying on my bed in the buff for no other reason than I can, without a little voice going "Eeeeeuuuw, you don't have any pants on." I just stuffed myself with room service and am about ready to curl up with my book.

I hate being an exploited, vulnerable victim, can't you tell ? ;)

Nite,

LL xx

Surprises, socials and sexy shopping

"Never judge a book by it's cover", a lesson I learnt a long time ago. Those who seek to project an image of knowledge and respectability are quite often the very people with the moral integrity of a bidet. ( With apologies to bidets. )

Happily though, quite often the opposite rings true. A while ago I met a man who emailed me and explained that he'd like to come and see me in Aberdeen. He is ( as he put it so delicately himself ) "in his twilight years". He went on to explain that he had read my site with great interest and so understood that I tailor my services for my older clients. The day arrived and I waited for the buzzer. At precisely the time of his appointment, the buzzer did indeed go and so I waited at the door of the apartment, and waited, and waited.

Eventually and with huge amounts of effort a beetroot faced gentleman alighted the top of the stairs and greeted me with a huge grin, whilst balancing precariously on his two sticks. It's fair to say that at that point my expectations of my own pleasure to be gained in the forthcoming encounter were fairly minimal. Having thrust a box of chocs my way, I joined him in the bedroom.

He made it quite clear that he was keen to do all the pleasuring and who was I to argue ? To say I was pleasantly gobsmacked would surely qualify for under-statement of the year. About 40 minutes into proceedings, I wearily lifted a matted and sodden forehead before asking "Where in the name of God did you learn to do that ?"

"Well I have been doing it for fifty years."

There's no answer to that, is there ?

I've just arrived back from Leeds where I enjoyed a weekend away with some long standing pals and we had a brilliant time. There were a few sore heads this morning but with a large fry and plenty of tea we were as right as rain. Unfortunately Amanda was snowed in and couldn't make it, but Mr F and Big Rick were there as well as some of my fave ladies too. We organised a hotel with a private room for dinner so we felt able to chat openly and Susan of Glasgow has just introduced me to my newest obsession, a Hitachi Magic Wand. It's a marvellous invention apparently originally intended to loosen up muscles and massage but it also has the added bonus of being able to drive delicate nerve endings into a frenzy in no time whatsoever.

It begs the question, how on earth did Victorian women cope ? They didn't even have a washing machine on full spin to rely on, never mind a "Magic Wand."

On that note I'm off to see if I can acquire one on Ebay and serve my rampant rabbit with one month's notice.

Nite,

LL xx

Questions and Answers

I'm really enjoying answering the questions posed on the new "Ask me anything" form, God only knows where you guys get your inspiration from, haha. Anyway, here are some I've done recently, enjoy.


Ever had police hassles?

Not at all, remember what I do is quite legal. :)

If you were a man for a single day, what's the thing you want to experience as a male? And would you see an escort and enjoy sex in a man's point of view?

The first thing I'd want to check out is if it's really true that men think about sex as often as they are reported to. So I would set myself the task of walking through the park on a beautiful summer's day when all the ladies are in tight tops and shorts and see if every second thought was sexual.

After that I think I'd book a session with an escort and have a mind blowing fuck, I'd love to experience what it's like to cum as a man, I do enjoy strap on fun with my guys, but I'm willing to bet it's not quite the same. ;)


Remember you saying you used to hang around the same haunts as Bono & Edge. Were you into that Punk scene that they and Virgin Prunes came out of?

Certainly not, my father would kill me with his bare hands. I was a goth for a short while until I decided it was boring and there are only so many times you can dance to "Lovecats" whilst looking pained.

I did attempt to leave the house with blue lipstick on once, but the manic laughter from my father was enough to convince me it wasn't such a good idea. Besides, it made my teeth look orange.

No, I was part of the "beautiful people", for which read idiots, who hung around Lillie's Bordello trying to look aloof and sexy. I cringe now when I think of it. In my defence, when I go back home and pay a visit to memory lane it gives me some comfort to note the same people in the same places still trying to look cool, which is made considerably harder when they can't move their foreheads due to an over enthusiastic botox session.

Has anyone who knows you in a "civilian" capacity ever accidentally booked you as an escort...or any near misses that you skillfully avoided?

In my former home town and under my former name, I had a lot of emails from locals looking to book some fun, but because it was such a small town I declined. Ironic really, because when I was "outed" the people that shouted the loudest should have looked at their own husbands before criticising me.

On a more flippant note, one sleepy Sunday morning I opened the door of a parlour to my former history teacher. We both nearly died and had a very awkward conversation ..

"I don't think I should erm ... "

"No, there are other ladies upstairs anyway."

"Fine. I'd be very grateful if you didn't erm... "

"It goes without saying."

I resisted the urge to ask the lady who saw him what his particular "thing" was, because I don't think I could have coped with the answer. :)

Nite,

LL xx