Sienna Wake Brothel ❤️❤️

About Sapporo

So, brothel’s this gritty spot—girls struttin, dudes droolin, air thick with desperation. Saw one in Nevada once—legal, shiny, but still dark as fuck. Growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” I clocked it quick—behind the glitter, it’s raw, messy. Pissed me off, tho—some punters treatin girls like trash. Wanna roar, “This ain’t your playground, prick!” But then, flip side—some lasses own it, run the show, bankin cash. That surprised me, gotta admit—power in the shadows, huh?

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Brothels of Bangkok. Each one reminded me of my trafficker and the men he sold me to, callous men ruled by their cravings, disconnected from.

After that, I head back to the yard. And guess what? The same guys from the card fight are now trying to start a dance-off. A dance-off! I can’t even. I’m like, “Guys, this isn’t ‘So You Think You Can Dance!’” But they’re all hyped, and I can’t help but laugh. I mean, who knew inmates could bust a move?

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