Selling 'smiles:' Inside the world of Shanghai's male sex workers

In a quiet apartment complex in Hongkou, a high-rise building, much like any other, stretches skyward. Inside is one of Shanghai's 60 or so gay 'massage' parlors, a temporary home for some of Shanghai's male sex workers.

This is one small part of China's forgotten industry, a trade that many prefer did not exist, and so pretend it doesn't. I am here with a team from Shanghai Leyi, an NGO that provides support to these sex workers plying their trade illegally and therefore with no recourse to official care, as it visits two such parlors. 

“By 'massage', it often means outcall services: a website, a QQ number, and some mobile phones,” says Yu Tian, project coordinator at Shanghai Leyi. These are services the parlor provides to the sex workers, who use these to set up 'dates' with clients and to otherwise communicate. 

Most male sex workers -- often called "money boys" -- stay in one house for no more than three months. “They have to move on to another house when the patrons get tired [of them],” explains Yu Tian. 

Inside the three-bedroom apartment, five solidly built men sit around smoking and looking at photos of half naked men flashing on a computer screen. These are workers during their down time. “We only give massages if clients require it,” says the boss of the house, Brother Y, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “But normally, it's RMB 500 for a quickie and RMB 600 for the night.” 

While he’s explaining his profession to me, Brother Y is also busy answering a client's QQ messages on his mobile. Clearly a popular man. 

The industry

Shanghai Leyi assists between 2,000 and 3,000 male sex workers per year, a tiny proportion of the total number of prostitutes in China, estimates for which vary between 1 million and 10 million. “We don't tell them what's right or wrong,” says Yu Tian. “We are only there to help solve the problems they have. For example, if someone's got a STD, they'd call us and ask us where they can find help.” 

If it wasn't for the money, who'd want to sleep with someone they don't like?

— Shanghai male sex worker

In China, the sex trade is metaphorically called “selling smiles” -- a colloquial reference to how they make the people feel who visit them. Shanghai Leyi works to ensure everyone is safe too.

Inside a second, small two-bedroom house down the street from the first, three young men are each sitting in front of a computer playing video games as two guys run in and out of the kitchen cooking. Colorful underwear hangs around like national flags at the UN headquarters. Dirty water floods out of the bathroom through the half closed door. 

I sit on an old couch next to the Calvin Kleins and am handed some hot water in a plastic cup.

“Are you a homosexual? I am!” says a young guy with longish hair, and he giggles like a drunken butterfly.

The boss, a skinny man in his late 30s, is interviewing a new boy. “We only take RMB 100 for hooking you up, and the rest is all yours,” he says to the recruit. “All you need to do now is to get your photos up on our website.” 

The lure of money

When asked why they chose such an occupation, the workers all say it's for the money. “If it wasn't for the money, who'd want to sleep with someone they don't like?” asks one. 

Xiaodong, a 24 year-old from Shangdong, has just started working here, and believes that he’ll make RMB 20,000 per month, “if business is good.”

Nonetheless, Yu Tian tells me some barely make RMB 2,000 per month, around the national average. Apart from safe sex and health care issues, Shanghai's money boys also face on average twice-a-year police raids, according to Shanghai Leyi as well as extortion, violence and mental health concerns. 

“Many of them have low self-esteem,” says Yu Tian. “They often feel very empty, so some turn to drugs and gambling.”

All issues that show the challenges Shanghai Leyi faces.

“We just want to create a better environment for sex workers,” says Zheng Huang, the founder of the NGO. “They’re still people, they have rights.”