Zoe Owase Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Saitama

Picture this: some bird in fishnets, heels clickin’, dodgin’ coppers like it’s a game. I’ve seen ‘em, skulkin’ in shadows, laughin’ at the prudes. Makes me grin—proper cheeky. Back in the day, whores ran shit! Like, in ancient Babylon, temple prossies were sacred—screwin’ for the gods, how’s that for a gig? Bet they’d smirk at us now, all judgy and posh. “I don’t sell myself,” one told me once—liar, but ballsy! Loved that. Reminds me of *Ten* again—“What’s your price?” she asks. Everyone’s got one, don’t they?

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So, I take his bet, right? And then, BOOM! The power goes out! Just like that! I’m standin’ there in the dark, feelin’ like I’m in some horror flick. I can hear people grumblin’ and cussin’. I’m like, “Great, now I’m gonna get lynched by a bunch of angry gamblers.”

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