Former bunnies are speaking up, and it's not pretty.
I've cobbled together snippets of the article below, but you can read the full article here:
Hugh Hefner's Playboy mansion more like a squalid prison say former Playmates | Mail Online
Quote:
Playboy mansion? More like a squalid prison: Former Playmates tell of 'grubby' world inside Hugh Hefner's empire
By David Leafe
...Unfortunately for Hefner, some of his former ‘girlfriends’, as he calls them, have become disenchanted with life in his harem over the years. One by one they have revealed what life was like behind the glittering façade of the Playboy Mansion. According to them, it disguises a grubby world where some girls feel they are no omgbetter than prostitutes, paid pocket money by an octogenarian obsessive who funds plastic omgsurgery to turn them into his physical ideal, and yet must still take huge amounts of Viagra to manage sex with them.
Hefner likes to have anywhere between three and 15 girlfriends at any one time. One of the group will be chosen to be Girlfriend No 1. She will share Hefner’s bedroom at all times, while the others are merely visitors.
For Izabella, the Playboy Mansion was far from the glamorous pleasure palace she had imagined. ‘Each omgbedroom had mismatched, random pieces of furniture,’ she recalls in her autobiography Bunny Tales.
'Hef was used to dirty carpets. The one in his bedroom had not been changed for years, and things became significantly worse when Holly Madison moved into his room with him as Girlfriend No. 1 soon after I moved in, bringing her two dogs.
‘They weren’t house-trained and would just do their business on the bedroom carpet. Late at night, or in the early hours of the morning — if any of us visited Hef’s bedroom — we’d almost always end up standing in dog mess.'
Many girls, it seems, endured these living conditions for the chance of becoming a centrefold in Playboy omgmagazine — an invaluable career boost for any glamour model.
Others admitted that they stayed only for the omgcosmetic surgery to which Hefner treated them as a birthday presents, keeping a running account with a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon.
Freedom of a kind came on Wednesdays and Fridays, the official nights out, which were the prelude to the twice-weekly sex parties in Hefner’s bedroom.
The girls travelled with Hefner in a white limousine which had a omgleopard-skin interior, with Playboy bunny logos sewn onto the seats. As they left the mansion, they drank Dom Perignon champagne and downed Quaaludes, a prescription-only sedative drug popularised in the Seventies and now handed out by Hefner.
As with so much else in their time with Hefner, the girls followed strict rules before entering his bedroom for the sex parties.One of those who witnessed these preparations was Jill Ann Spaulding, an aspiring model who wrote to omgHefner in 2002 asking to be a Playboy centrefold.
‘If you kept your pyjama bottoms on, that was a sign that you didn’t want to have contact that night.’ According to Spaulding there were 12 girls there on that first night, and only she and another girl declined the offer to have sex with Hefner, who did not use a condom.
‘There was no protection and no testing for sexually transmitted omgdiseases,’ she says.
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Is it slander, or reality?
Is this an example of exploitation?
What differences do you see between a living situation such as this and human trafficking for the sex trade?
Do you see similarities to other groups, such as communes or polygamous cults?
I was admittedly shocked at this article. When I got to the part with un-housebroken dogs soiling the carpets, I was outright repulsed. Then of course there's the part about Hefner handing out prescription pills. That's when I found myself downright
bothered. Is this whole situation considered ok because they're consenting adults? When would it be bad enough to require someone to step in - should that ever happen?
This article caught my attention because a friend spent a year or so trying to work her way into the Playboy harem. She seemed obsessed with the goal to an unhealthy level, but none of us said anything to her about our concern. We just figured she was one of those strange women who had a thing for geriatric men. She went golfing with old men during the day and attended parties with her bunny-looking friends in the evenings, trying to get the attention she craved. She was overjoyed one night because she was in the same room with Hefner. Eventually she realized it wasn't going anywhere. I never understood what motivated her into that lifestyle. Had I realized her goal could have placed her in such an unpleasant place, I would have spoken up.