Sin Street

Running a good business is about taking the time to do it good. A bullet in the head is not a good way to kill. But a dildo is a good weapon.

The cleaning services were also running a lucrative side job called “fuck trucks,” mainly in the old port and the red-light quarter.

“I’m fucking out of control. I’ve wanked no one off for a couple of days and miss it desperately. It’s not only about the money. Wanking people off is my kink. I’d fucking do you right now for free.”

I offer what people don’t have: unhappiness to happy people, or the excitement of the unknown. Sex is a drug. You know the reaction, the reason you take it. Pain is the fuel, pleasure the oxidizer.

On Sin Street, Sex Pods were a fantasy, mainly an Easter egg presumed to be a hoax, that finally came to light (here we are.) This urban legend turned reality started being published on Fools’ Day.

So it had to start somehow, this notebook belongs to the past. I never got caught, and I guess now most people think it’s crazy fiction, which is good enough. Welcome!