The Streets of Prostitution

Fleshbots, you know them well, as middle Euro sex tourists take advantage of the exchange rate to get as much pussy as humanly possible. There is no disguising their carnal nature of power, abuse, and domination. Attempting to cure that primitive need to expel cum from their cocks, as old as time itself, spawning the human race as we know it, what an accomplishment. I have watched fifteen year girls be offered 50 US to be some would be serial killer's sex slave, right off into the ditch of some nearby river channel. There are kids to be fed, mothers to support, and some male being off in the distance standing by to collect all the earning before the money can be put to good use. You can't see the knives or the guns, but I can feel them, while standing at a bar with a beer thinking about how teenage hookers can learn the english language with such ease and I barely know portuguese. Motivation is the key, the belief that someone can escape their fate, their terminal life sentence in a personal hell of birthed sperm that have over populated every corner of this tropical whore house called Copacabana Beach. Murder, addiction, and pregnancy are the only solutions around here, everything else, a tv mini series of the week, no happy endings, just cocks and more cocks with hairy bodies pressing against their flesh, their hips, in hopes infecting them with the hate of the world, from long across the seas, like the conquistadors before them, but only bringing disease, the disease of hope.