Mongering experiences – Experiences of a businessman in Bangalore
Mongering experiences with high-class escort girls in the true tale of a businessman confessing in honesty of his long exile with female escorts.
“High-class escort girls in Bangalore do build relationships with our patrons with authenticity and honesty. We dedicated women compelled to build our career as an escort in Bangalore. With truth and honesty as the foundation.”
Gfe Bangalore
But I have to confess to knowing the truth about this sordid profession – because eight years ago, I succumbed to the lure of paying for sex.
I continue exploiting escort girls in Bangalore
Over 18 months, I spent all my savings – 10 lacs – on high-class escort girls in Bangalore. Before I go any further, let me make it clear that Honestly, I am not the least proud of this.
I’m ashamed of exploiting women, and of having supported a degrading, dangerous industry. I don’t expect anyone to condone what I did. But now, after many years, have passed. I want to explain why I got propelled into that addiction – and why so many other men are, too and my penning my thoughts here in my blog Mongering experiences.
The statistics say that one man in ten men uses Bangalore escorts, and not all of them conform to the stereotype, as my case suggests. I had a comfortable, middle-class upbringing in Bangalore, where my parents were both Doctors.
I went to one of Karnataka’s top universities, and I now work successfully as a Bussiness man. The clues to why I got drawn into such an immoral world. It was due to my disastrous relationships with women up until that point. At school, I was a bit of a nerd. At 14, for example, I was publicly humiliated by the popular girl I fancied.
She told me to meet her in a secluded corner of the playing fields, and then ambushed me with her friends and shouted: ‘I wouldn’t go out with you if you were the last person in the world.’ The years that followed brought a series of similar rejections. My shyness, if anything, got worse as I got older.
How I got lured by high-class escort girls
Things didn’t improve much when I moved to Bangalore in my early 20s. Meeting women wasn’t a problem; the hard part was meeting them twice. All told, in the Nineties, I’ve worked out that I got stood up on 27 different occasions. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what was going on. I wasn’t a horrific-looking chap
Hooked: I enjoyed the thrill and convenience of hiring high-class escort girls in Bangalore.
I was physically fit, funny and, with a good degree, had reasonable prospects. Yet life was one big round of ‘You’re too nice’ and ‘I don’t want to ruin the friendship’. Things perked up for a while in the mid-nineties, On the back of my successes in business, I embarked on my first serious adult relationships.
But each one fizzled out. I was an intelligent young man with my whole life ahead of me, but by the time I got to my late 20s, I felt as if my life was falling apart. While my fellow comics progressed to bigger things, it was clear that I didn’t quite have what it took.
They weren’t the only ones moving on. By the time I was 29, virtually all my friends had got married. They were either having kids or moving out of the city. Then, to top it all, I started losing my hair. With it went the last vestiges of my self-esteem. When I hit 30, I hadn’t had GirlFriends – or even a kiss – for three years.
My Mongering experiences with high-class escort girls in Bangalore starts
I was starting to feel desperately lonely and with little to look forward to. One area of my life that was going well was my finances. After years in low-paid jobs, I’d just started my first decent full-time business in real estate in Bangalore suburbs, (I was living in shared, rented accommodation) and no Friends, my outgoings were minimal.
It was like going on a costly date, but one where you were guaranteed a goodnight kiss Without really intending to, by 2019, I had saved up several lacs. At about this time, I read an article in a magazine about escorting.
I’d never seriously thought about paying for the female company: my image of the sex industry was of Mumbai Red light area, but in reality, here in Bangalore it was very safe and spotless.
You visited the high-class escort girls in Bangalore in plush, rented apartments; you were paying for companionship, not sex.
It was like going on a costly date, but one where you were guaranteed a goodnight kiss. That night, I went online and looked up a few escort agencies. I was scared, indeed, and a little ashamed.
My first Mongering experiences with high-class escort girls in Bangalore
Was I capable of this? But everything the article said seemed to be true. I looked at my empty bed. I looked at my empty diary as I looked at my bank statement.
Then, heart pounding furiously, I picked up the phone. As I waited for an answer, a thousand terrifying thoughts flashed through my head. I was scared of what my friends and family would think if they found out. I was afraid of being arrested (I was unaware, at the time, that what I was doing wasn’t technically illegal). And I was worried that the girl I arranged to visit would turn out not to be a girl at all, and a thug is waiting to rob me. Then the person at the other end of the line picked up. It was a female voice – calm, professional, friendly.
She asked me who I wanted to see, when, and for how long. It felt like booking an appointment at the hairdresser, and I made more effort for that first illicit rendezvous than I ever had for a real date.
As I went to the gym, I used a tanning machine, I had a haircut, bought some new clothes, and read all the papers so I’d have something interesting to talk.
It sounds ridiculous that I prepared for such a sordid sexual transaction in such a way, but I believed the disclaimer on the website Gfe Bangalore.
‘We offer only a legitimate introductory service for beautiful women. Anything that takes place afterwards is a matter of choice between two consenting adults.’
Gfe Bangalore
Two days later, at 8 pm sharp, I arrived outside an anonymous-looking flat in a well-to-do area of Indra Nagar. As I triple-checked the address scribbled on Google Maps, I thought about going home.
Glamorizing prostitution in my rendezvous-mongering experiences
But she was waiting for me now. Besides, I was curious. I took a deep breath and pressed the buzzer. Radha opened the door, the girl pictured on What’s App.
I’d chosen her not because she was the prettiest, but because she had the friendliest face and didn’t disappoint. She took my coat and led me into the living room. I handed over the envelope full of cash: INR 30,000/ for three hours.
Radha went into the other room to make sure the money was all there, called the agency to tell them I’d arrived, then poured drinks and sat down. I told her I’d never done this sort of thing before. She smiled and said she could tell. Within minutes, she had put me completely at ease. I tried to spin the conversation out as long as possible – we talked about the area, how my day had been but when I finally ran out of words, she walked over to me, kissed me, and led me to the bedroom.
When the three hours were up, I thanked Radha for her time, she thanked me for being ‘sweet’, and I walked to my Car. I won’t deny that I felt seedy. For the first time, I’d just paid for sex.
At the same time, there was an unmistakable thrill of transgression. And the experience had gone remarkably smoothly. I’d spent an evening in the company of a beautiful woman, and she hadn’t rejected me.
Feeling accusable with my mongering experiences
I went to bed that night feeling a little less unwanted, and a little bit better about myself. Did I feel guilty? Not really. And I confess I hadn’t dwelled on the thorny issue of why these high-class escort girls in Bangalore might be sleeping with strangers in Indra Nagar.
Frankly, like a teenager, I was just revelling in the experience. From that night, I got hooked. I went to bed that night feeling a little less unwanted, a bit better about myself Escorting seemed the answer to all my problems.
It was exciting. The sex was always safe – although I got myself tested regularly for sexually transmitted infections just in case.
My reasoning went like this: why should I hang around trying to pick up women in bars when I could meet far more attractive women with no risk of getting hurt emotionally?
Over the next year and a half, I visited 16 different high-class escort girls in Bangalore, some of them several times, and spent almost everything I’d saved over the previous few years – around ten lacs.
Each time, like the first, I treated it like a real date. I was always courteous, I still bought flowers and beer, and I paid for an extra hour so that I could get to know the girls first. Sometimes we had dinner; sometimes we went out for a walk. Once, we sat down and watched Cricket.
My ridiculous-mongering experiences with high-class escort girls
It was only on my fourth visit that Sowmya, a cute, funny 26-year-old, laughed and told me that no one else did that; most people just paid for one hour, got straight down to business, and then fled.
But I liked doing it this way. I was deluding myself, of course, but it felt normal, almost like a real ‘GirlFriends experience’. So began a life in which I carried on working and seeing my friends, but existed with this big secret that I knew I could never divulge.
The only girl I regularly visited over those months was a 27-year-old from Chennai whose professional name was Shreya and employed with the same concern I frequent Gfe Bangalore.
Mongering experiences with the Pretty high-class escort girls in Bangalore
Pretty Woman had a fairytale ending, but the reality is very different for real-life high-class escort girls in Bangalore. She was just my type: a petite, brunette, with a gorgeous figure.
Maybe she was just very good at her job as a high-class escort girl in Bangalore, but she seemed to like me, too. She told me her real name – Nandhini – and all about her glamorous other clients: For my 50th birthday, I’d thrown a big party with 90 guests in Mg road, but I’d ended up going home alone.
So when my 31st came around, I was determined that wouldn’t happen again and booked a whole night with Shreya. What the hell, it was only INR 30,000/. The morning after, I woke up to find a cup of tea and a gift-wrapped box on the bedside table. When she found out that it was my birthday, Shreya went out and bought me a Gift. It was an absurd gesture, but I was touched. I was convinced, after that, that Shreya and I had a special connection.
Maybe the whole Pretty Woman myth was true. Perhaps, if I played my cards right, I could persuade her to quit escorting and be with me. ‘Do you think,’ I asked her on my next visit, ‘that if you met the right person, you might give all this up?’ Shreya put down her drink and laughed.
‘Well, it’s not my ideal job. But I have got used to the lifestyle. If I did give this up for a man, he’d have to earn twice as much as I do. And I earn two lacs a month.’ She never did come and watch me do stand-up. I’m ashamed to say that for about a year.
The heartbreaking Incident that changed my Mongering experiences
I had felt that my time with these girls had been relatively harmless – and mutually beneficial. But one incident changed all that.
One night, I went to visit an escort called Ramya at a flat in Ulsoor. I was too immersed in my self-pity at being single to worry about anyone else’s feelings. I handed over the cash. Everything progressed as usual until halfway through the evening, Ramya said. ‘I am thrilled you came here tonight. Why’s that?’ I asked. ‘Because you are nice.’ I smiled, but she continued. And also because now I can pay my rent.’ The words were like a slap in the face.
In a year of visiting high-class escort girls in Bangalore, this was the first incontrovertible evidence I’d heard that not every girl did escort because they enjoyed it.
The incident that changed my Mongering experiences
I had felt that my time with these girls had been relatively harmless – and mutually beneficial. But one incident changed all that.
One night, I went to visit an escort called Ramya at a flat in Ulsoor. I was too immersed in my self-pity at being single to worry about anyone else’s feelings. I handed over the cash. Everything progressed as usual until halfway through the evening. Ramya said ‘I am thrilled you came here tonight. Why’s that?’ I asked. ‘Because you are nice. I smiled, but she continued. I also because now I can pay my rent.’ The words were like a slap in the face.
In a year of visiting high-class escort girls in Bangalore, this was the first incontrovertible evidence I’d heard that not every girl did escort because they enjoyed it.
Some of them do it because they have to. Ramya seemed to like me. I had helped her out in the short term. I was helping to perpetuate that situation.
Perhaps I’d been naive not to notice anything amiss before. Maybe I am just too immersed in self-pity as I stay still single to worry about anyone else’s feelings.
Intimate scenes in my Mongering experiences
But the truth is that up until that point. I was genuinely convinced that all the girls I’d seen were selling their bodies entirely of their own free will.
On this occasion, I consoled myself with the thought that I’d paid enough to last Shreya until 2023 and put the doubts out of my head. I made one more trip after that, to see Kushbu, a mesmerically beautiful lady in Koramangala.
During our chat, she told me her age as 20, from Mumbai. She had been a model. But as she sat on the bed and started to undress, I noticed a glistening in her eye.
I didn’t know if she was doing this under duress if she was pining for her modelling days, or if she’d just had a rough day. But one thing was for sure: she didn’t want to be there.
I realized it was my greatest fear. Not catching a sexually transmitted disease, but meeting a sex worker who didn’t want to be a sex worker.
The end of my Mongering experiences
I handed over the money – and then, to coin a time-honoured phrase – made my excuses and left. I never paid for sex again after that. But, however dreadful this may sound, the confidence I’d gained from those mongering experiences stayed with me, and I felt ready to face the world again as I took up hobbies – singing, books, bar nights – and met new people.
I asked more women out on dates. This time, a few of them turned up, and none of them turned out to be The One. But the signs were encouraging. Last summer, my quest for love took me back to the internet – this time, to an online dating agency. And within a month, I’d met the beautiful, caring, fabulous Woman who is now my girlfriend.
A couple of months into the relationship, I told her about my Mongering experiences with high-class escort girls in Bangalore. Once I’d reassured her that it had all happened a long time ago and would never happen again, she was understanding.
So I told my friends, too. Some surprised. I bothered to mention it. Then came the hardest confession of all: my parents. After spending an hour working out what I was going to say, I called them.
My Mongering experiences turns into Hate towards high-class escort girls in Bangalore
They were pleased I’d told them, they said. They’d suspected something was wrong. Many people say that men who use high-class escort girls in Bangalore hate women. That may be true for some; but in my case, I believe those escorts stopped me hating women.
I feel gratitude towards those sweet, beautiful girls for the warmth they showed me. Guilt that I helped perpetuate an industry that is unregulated and potentially unsafe – but also gratitude.
I firmly believe that while some sex workers are escorts by choice, thousands of others, like Shreya and Ramya, are not. And the fact is, when you book an escort, you never know what you are going to get. And that’s why I’ll never again try to re-create the ‘GirlFriends experience‘ in my mongering experiences.
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