prostitution

Prostitution is illegal in many places, but porn is not. But what is porn if not sex for money, caught on camera? What the law actually prohibits then is having paid sex in private and not allowing anyone to watch.

Prostitution has the same relationship to trafficking as sex has to rape. One is voluntary, the other is not

...After you have done everything to please a man and he's taken his pleasure with you, all you are for him is a whore, and a whore's daughter.

Prostitution is not exactly a reputable business over there either, even though the girls actually have to pay taxes on their earnings, and submit to regular health check ups. Even the prostitutes have universal healthcare over there. The benefit of legal prostitution is obvious: tax income for the city, healthier girls, and safety. In Amsterdam, each girl has an alarm button next to her bed that she can press if one of her "customers" tries to rape or hurt her. The police will arrive within minutes and protect the girl from harm.

I saw a documentary about prostitution in Holland a few years ago, that said over there health insurance actually pays for monthly visits to a prostitute for the disabled, because they feel that sex is part of a healthy life, so unmarried disabled men have a right to have sex, even if it's with a paid prostitute. Pretty bizarre, huh? Can you imagine a US health insurance company picking up the bill for your romp in the hay with a hooker?

There are 80,000 prostitutes in London alone and what are they, if not bloody sacrifices on the alter of monogamy

He seemed to be lying on the bed. He could not see very well. Her youthful, rapacious face, with blackened eyebrows, leaned over him as he sprawled there.___ow about my present?_ she demanded, half wheedling, half menacing.__ever mind that now. To work! Come here. Not a bad mouth. Come here. Come closer. Ah!__o. No use. Impossible. The will but not the way. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Try again. No. The booze, it must be. See Macbeth. One last try. No, no use. Not this evening, I__ afraid.__ll right, Dora, don__ you worry. You__l get your two quid all right. We aren__ paying by results.__e made a clumsy gesture. __ere, give us that bottle. That bottle off the dressing-table.___ora brought it. Ah, that__ better. That at least doesn__ fail.

My body is my own," I said. "I may choose to share it with someone, but it's not for sale or for hire, nor is it a reward. I'd rather starve to death than use it as such.

I think it's better to be comfortable in your skin than to be miserable being who you are. Sure, the meth is horrible. It ruins people from the inside out. It's a waiting game --- it's not a matter of if it destroys you, but rather a matter of when it will. I've made it this far. I'm not sending a message that it's "cool" to be on drugs and tell everyone about it. I don't sum myself up as a drug addict and a hooker. That's not what I am. Those are juts things I do, they don't define me. Jobs and addictions do not make us who we are.

No wonder prostitution is so rampant in China, I mused as I watched the four girls watch us: why stand on your feet all day for slave wages when you can get rich on your back?

When they reached their ship, Ed gazed out at the bay. It was black. The sky was black, but the bay was even blacker. It was a slick, oily blackness that glowed and reflected the moonlight like a black jewel. Ed saw the tiny specks of light around the edges of the bay where he knew ships must be docked, and at different points within the bay where vessels would be anchored. The lights were pale and sickly yellow when compared with the bright blue-white sparkle of the stars overhead, but the stars glinted hard as diamonds, cold as ice. Pg. 26.

I'm not crying out for help, but I am sharing my experience in the hopes that readers will get something out of it. I'm not the one who gets to decide what that is, if anything. I'm just starting the "journey" if you will, so I can't possibly know yet what the "message" of my life really is. I only know what has happened so far, and how I've felt up until this moment. I agree that reading about the pain of others is concerning when they are still hurting and in the same situation as when they wrote about it. But what can you do? You can reach out, ask how you can help and be there to listen. You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved. You can't love someone who doesn't love themselves enough to take care of themselves and stay out of bad situations. Believe me, I know this.

Fiction has been maligned for centuries as being "false," "untrue," yet good fiction provides more truth about the world, about life, and even about the reader, than can be found in non-fiction.

When you fake emotion for a living, when you make your money providing fantasies for other people, tuning into their worlds and indulging them, you don__ invite someone into your world very easily.

Whilst passing by the lane where the nests of concubines rested, I saw a little temple.Somebody lit the lamp in prayer. I couldn't decide to bow down to the temple or not to stop there and walk away.Never heard if odalisques have gods too... if yes,are they as pure as ours?

Yeah, I'm a drug addict. And a prostitute. The whole world knows. Not because I robbed my own family. Not because I ended up behind bars. Not because I've been hassled by the cops when soliciting customers from a local street corner. Not because I'm shooting up in the public bathrooms at your city park. Everyone knows because I told them all. I never tried to hide any of it. I never felt the need to.

One can hear all that's going on in the street. Which means that from the street one can hear what's going on in this house.

To defile your body is to quench the Holy Spirit.