leon-50190362 @leon-50190362
I remember the day vividly when I first decided to pursue a career as a sex worker. It was after I had just graduated from high school and was feeling lost and unsure of my future prospects. The allure of easy money and the freedom that came with it was too great to resist, so I made the decision to enter the world of prostitution.
It wasn't long before I found myself working in a seedy bar on the outskirts of town, catering to wealthy businessmen who were looking for a quick thrill before heading back home to their wives. The work was grueling and often left me feeling degraded and exploited, but it paid well and allowed me to live a life that few others could afford.
As I grew older, I began to realize just how much of my identity had become wrapped up in my profession. Even when I wasn't working, I felt like I was always "on," always ready to take on the next client or perform for their pleasure. It was a liberating feeling at first, but it soon started to wear thin and leave me feeling empty and unfulfilled.
I've had my fair share of clients over the years, some good and others not so much. There have been times when I felt like I truly enjoyed the work and even grew attached to certain regulars, but other times left me feeling like nothing more than a used piece of trash.
As for now, I'm currently sitting in my cell with no idea how long I'll be here or what will
