Ella Sakaidecho Whore ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

Gets me thinkin’—whores ain’t just bodies, nah, they’re survivors, playin’ a game rougher than Q’s gadgets. Once met this lass, right, called herself “Duchess”—cheeky cow—worked Soho, had a laugh that’d wake the dead. Told me she’d shagged a lord once, proper toff, left his monocle behind! Reckon she kept it for kicks. “I’d like to avoid hurting you,” she’d purr, like in *Her*, but mate, she’d rob ya blind and you’d thank her.

Sakaidechō

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First off, I head down to Kagawa Street. You know, the one with all the cute little cafes? I’m thinkin’ I’ll grab a coffee before I hit the gardens. But nah, the line’s longer than my to-do list. I’m standin’ there, watchin’ people sip their lattes, and I’m like, “C’mon, people! I got plants to tend to!” Finally, I get my coffee, and it’s cold. Like, ice-cold. Ugh! I’m fuming, but whatever, I chug it down. Gotta fuel up, right?