Lily Hietzing Whore ❤️

About Klagenfurt

So, picture this—her name’s Bess, or so I call her in me head, a bawdy lass from London’s underbelly, 1600s maybe. She’s no prim rose, nah, but a wild weed, bloomin’ where she oughtn’t. Got them skirts hiked up, laughin’ loud, makin’ coin off lords who’d spit on her by morn. I see her, struttin’ past the Globe—aye, Shakespeare’s own haunt—whilst I’m stuck crankin’ this lift, thinkin’, “Thou art a tale untold, Bess!” She’s got eyes like stormy seas, drownin’ fools who stare too long. “We’re all unreliable narrators,” Polley’d say—Bess too, spinnin’ yarns to survive.

Austria Donaustadt Brothel

The neighborhoods here are a trip. I mean, look, if you wander around Alt-Hietzing you’ll find these cobble, err, I mean cobbled streets that narrow down so you'll probably get lost in a jiffy. I remember one time I got stuck and nearly missed a date with destiny. Or maybe it was a client—I mix up sometimes. Whatever, life's messy.

Espionage (3): How the system "Nina" was exposed