Being a slut, simply because you want to

A b*tch will have many reasons to enter the profession.

Mostly because of "circumstances", because of "poverty", because of "tradition"... But for her, she is a whore because she wants to be a whore. Just as simple as that.

"As beautiful as you are, it would be a waste not to be a slut." Her first man said this. Saying her lifelong phobia.

It was obvious that she was a Slut.

But ironically, he couldn't sleep with her, not even once.

If she were as simple as many other Sluts, perhaps he wouldn't think much about her.

A mere Slut? That means you pay and sleep with it, then go your separate ways. Run out of.

But the strange thing about her is that she doesn't need money. At his first meeting with her, she burned the $100 bill his friend gave him to light a cigarette. At that time, if he hadn't pulled her out, perhaps his friend and her would have fought in the Bar.

She is also not a simple Slut.

She took his phone number and forced him to promise to go with her once, as an apology for what his friend had done. At that time, he agreed because of one simple thing, she was very beautiful.

The first time he went on a date with a Slut, he dressed casually, no need to be classy and elegant when the person he was with was a Slut. He thinks so.

She wore short, tattered jeans, a t-shirt with one side, revealing her thin shoulders, and her messy brown hair was hastily tied back.

He knew that she was beautiful the first time he met her, but this time he met her again, he still stared at her for a few seconds before she squinted her eyes, "Looking at what?". Her face was so innocent that it made him feel frustrated. He couldn't accept that a Slut had such an innocent face. Look at her like a stubborn, stubborn young lady because she is used to being pampered. For a moment, he forgot that the person standing in front of him was a Slut.

To him, the scariest thing about her is her eyes. Her eyes were strangely big, he thought she used contact lenses, but that wasn't the case. Her eyes are as vast as a lake... No, a pair of eyes like an autumn lake describes a pair of beautiful eyes. And her eyes are like the surface of the dead sea... They are grey, black and also creepy. Her eyes looked at him as if they could see every pore on his body.

She acted so crazy and careless that he thought she had a mental problem. When the waiter brought her the wrong cup of coffee, she threw the coffee cup to the ground and shattered in front of many people in the restaurant. The waiter apologized profusely and then came back to bring another glass. He needed this job so he humbly accepted to apologize to a bitch even though she behaved so unbecomingly.

- You can ask someone to change the glass, why do you need to do that? Just like uneducated people.

- So you think a b*tch will act like a great man of the era?

- She said softly, what good and proud slut does she have to be proud of that she keeps showing off like that?

- If I'm a slut, I say I'm a slut. That's my profession. Why do people keep living in fear, not even daring to call a thing or event by its correct name... so cowardly. Being a chicken, being a prostitute, being a prostitute, being on the street... Slut, can you just call me a slut, please? If that word was too disgusting to utter from human mouths, then humans certainly would not have created it.

She spoke in an endless line... her voice trembled. He never thought that one day, he would sit and listen to a bitch teach him about life. It's true that this life is... Slutty.

That night, he and she broke up. Before leaving, she asked him:

- You want to fuck with me, right?

- As beautiful as you, of course I want it.

- Then how much will you pay me?

- You don't need money.

- Yes, that's why I asked how much you could pay me.

His face looked confused. She added.

- Well, next time I'll see you again, and if you make me find you interesting, I'll sleep with you.

He is arrogant. He has the right to be arrogant about what he has. He is handsome, attractive to both the opposite sex and men of the same sex with his resolute masculine face, his rugged and romantic style but can still become elegant and luxurious when necessary. The sales manager of a company is doing well, so his pockets are always full of money. There were so many people who wanted to sleep with him, virgins, married women, girls with long legs, pussies bigger than their brains, some models, some gay guys... But now, he I can't sleep with a bitch. An arrogant person like him wouldn't accept that.

- Do you know why I became a slut?

- Of course not, because you haven't said it yet.

- Because I want to be a slut. That's it. Don't think I'm uneducated or poor and have to go to work. I was in my second year of college when a rich man wanted to take me under his wing, so I became his adopted son and dropped out of school. What do you do when you go to school? When a new graduate's salary is 3 million VND, it's equal to a bag I carry.

- Like you say, it turns out that everyone is a prostitute?

- I'm wrong, do you think being a slut is easy? It's an art. To be a slut, you must first be beautiful. If you're not beautiful, then at least you have to make yourself look beautiful so that people will spend money to sleep with you. Then being a prostitute also requires skill, skill to make sure people give you money and still want to come back and give it again. Like you, you agreed to meet me because I'm beautiful and I'm mysterious, attractive to you, making you irresistible when you meet me?

- ...

- Men, forever like that. When they love each other, they brag and say, I love you because of your soul, because you are you, because of that damn thing... But if there is another girl who looks better than you, he will flirt with you. will kick his ugly girlfriend.

- You seem to hate men.

- Wrong, I love men, because they give me money to make me feel in love with this life and love them too.

She laughed at this life like that. Talking to her, many times he wanted to pounce on her neck, but he couldn't because what she said was, in a way, completely true. She saw this life through her strangely large eyes - naked and naked as when she worked.

- What's wrong with being a slut? If I were a bitch, I would still be proud that I would trade what I have to get what I need and want. People sell their labor, I sell my beauty, these are fair exchanges between people. I'm proud that I'm a conscientious bitch. I've never been with a married person, or at least when I know that person has a wife, I immediately withdraw. I don't destroy anyone's happiness. anyone. I have never harmed anyone for myself or taken advantage of anyone to get ahead...

He worries because she... takes advantage of others to get ahead, destroys the happiness of others, harms others for her own sake... Her words are like slaps in the face. he couldn't resist him. Turns out, he's worse than a bitch.

The next time, he met her in a situation he never expected.

She entered the banquet hall with a man he knew. Director of his rival company. Her strangely large eyes looked at him, shining with a cold gray light and then extinguished. She turned away as if he were just a plate of greasy food that she had to abstain from.

Tonight she was beautiful in her own way. The blood-red evening dress hugged her slender and fragile body. Her pussy isn't big but it's just right for her small body, but when you look at it, one can be sure that she didn't put silicone or saline implants in there. She wears light, simple makeup but is still gorgeous and a hundred times more beautiful than the girls around her who wear tons of makeup.

Only her eyes he still recognized, eyes like the dead sea, coldly scanning the banquet room.

Using the excuse of needing a new glass of wine, he gently approached her and asked her:

- What are you doing here?

- Acts as a bitch. - She said, smirked, then took the glass of wine and walked away.

At the end of the party that day, he saw her climb into the car of another man he also knew. He is the one who will decide whether his company, or her tycoon's company, will be the contractor for the upcoming project.

At 3 a.m., his phone rang loudly. Transactions on the world foreign currency exchange and gold exchange do not allow him to turn off his phone when sleeping and train him to have the habit of jumping up immediately when he hears the phone ringing. It's her.

- Where are you??? Pick me up now...

He didn't understand why he crawled up, then ran to the place she pointed at and met her, maybe because she was beautiful.

- Are you crazy? Call me at this hour?

- So are you crazy too? Will you meet me at this hour?

She was still wearing her blood-red evening dress, but not long after, she tore off the bottom of the dress so that it was as short as a skirt above the knee. She told him to stop by the 24-hour store, buy a few cans of beer, then run onto a newly built bridge in the new urban area. He and she sat on the bridge and drank beer.

- Sometimes I don't understand the people living in this world. They are so strange and complicated. A little thing standing at the base of a tree, when it comes out to exchange for the money you need, people call it a bitch. As for a girl standing on stage, looking for the right place to exchange for what she needs which is fame, people call her a singer. Basically, both of them use their bodies to exchange for what they need... the same.

- Because it's different in terms of standing.

- So if I make a stage under the tree, will people call me the Singing Bitch?

- What about you, what do you need?

- To him, I'm a bitch who needs money.

- With me?

- Need love.

He and she drank beer in silence, the river below their feet was still flowing, black and dark like her eyes.

- Hey, if I jump down, will you save me?

- Probably not, I don't know how to swim.

- Then I'll dance.

She said then stood up, putting one foot over the edge of the bridge. He frantically grabbed her hand.

- Don't be crazy like that.

- You liar, you just said you wouldn't save me.

- I don't save, but I prevent.

- Haha, don't worry, I don't want to die, I still love life and money very much - She smiled, her eyes rippled with ripples like the river flowing below.

She led him from one surprise to another. Sometimes walking next to her, he wondered if she was crazy or a person with multiple personalities and schizophrenia?

On the weekend, she called him and said it was urgent and that if he didn't see her right away, he would never see her again. So he quickly left the coffee meeting with his friends with the accusation "Going with a girl again..."

She forced him to go to a market and buy a large bag of candy, then went to an orphanage village. Look at her in a simple t-shirt, jeans hanging over her knees, quickly wiping away her sweat and then handing out candy to the children. Occasionally, she opened her eyes wide to make a child laugh. He was stunned, is this a b*tch?

- I didn't expect that someone like you who threw a cup of coffee to pieces in a shop could do this.

- So what, stop looking at life from one side like that, it doesn't help you, it only makes you blind.

- So you look at life as nakedly as you do?

- If you like, then go ahead. In this life, how many people do you think that waiter will have to apologize to if he mixed up someone else's cup of coffee? A small mistake can cause people to lose more than they think.

Before leaving, he saw her give someone in the orphanage village a thick envelope. That day of farewell, she spoke softly to him.

- You just visited my old house.

Not long after, she texted him again, this time the message was just one number, and thanks to this number, his company won the right to be the contractor for the million-dollar project about to start construction.

He wondered why she knew he was having a headache because of this, and why she helped him. She didn't tell him, and he will never know for the rest of his life.

She bothered him again, this time she made him take him to buy a lot of ceramic cups and plates, then go back to a small house in the suburbs. She unlocked the house, then started pulling out the newly bought dishes and throwing them against the wall, breaking them into pieces. A harsh sound rang out mixed with her cries. She cried furiously, screaming in despair and sadness.

He helplessly watched her cry and destroy, then when he couldn't bear it anymore, he rushed in, picked up the dishes and threw them against the wall like her, the only difference was that he didn't cry. When there was no more bowl to throw, she sat down on the bed, her tears stopped flowing but her thin shoulders continued to tremble. Her eyes were watery, as if a tsunami had just risen from the surface of the Dead Sea.

Suddenly, he hugged her and then suddenly, she bit him... very hard on his hand. He gritted his teeth and endured the pain she brought as a way to repay her for helping him win that contract. When his hand was bleeding, she let go of his hand and lay down on the bed, curling up like a kitten. He hugged her again, and just like that, they lay hugging each other until her breath evenly blew into his lap.

How is he like this? If he now threw her onto the bed and fucked her, he would have achieved what he wanted for so long, but he couldn't. At that time, he could only hold her in his arms, holding her tightly as if he was afraid that if he let go, she would break like the dishes she had just broken. He gently kissed her forehead, then her strangely large eyes, her breath was still breathing evenly into his lap.

Looking closely at her, he discovered that her body had several bruises like whip marks.

The last time he saw her.

That night was extremely hot, the temperature was probably above 32 degrees. He was hiding from the heat in the air-conditioned room when she called, her voice cold and distant as if coming from hell.

- Come to the house last time, I want to see you.

He took the car and ran to meet her again like before, perhaps because she was so beautiful and so strange. The door of the house was only ajar, so he pushed it open and entered.

She sat on the bed, holding a knife covered in blood. The director of his rival company was lying on the ground, blood flowing around him. In the corner of the room, a girl about 15 years old or younger was sitting there, shaking, hugging her trembling body. Like a male instinct, he looked at her pussy and saw a few drops of blood there.

- What... what did you do?

Suddenly she laughed, she laughed like crazy, like she had never laughed before, like this was the last time she would laugh. Her laughter was evil and cruel, it tore his heart into thousands of pieces, it penetrated his mind and paralyzed him. He no longer knew what to do in this situation.

She laughed, her tears fell... Her tears fell and she kept smiling...

Only when outside heard the footsteps of the police entering the house, she stopped laughing and pointed the knife directly at the newcomers, even at him. She said in the coldest, cruelest voice he had ever heard:

- I personally killed that animal lying there, do you guys hear me clearly?

Then it doesn't matter whether people heard clearly or not.

She plunged the knife she was holding into her heart.

Neat and precise, as if she had rehearsed it hundreds of times.

Before she fell, with what little strength she had left.

She stabbed the second knife into one of her strangely large eyes...

Maybe at the last minute, she no longer wanted to look at life through the eyes of a bitch anymore...

The surface of the sea rose and waved... waves rushed to the shore... red waves never stopped.

From what the girl told me, that man had fucked her, it was said that he wanted to relieve bad luck in business, but when it was too painful, she pushed him away. And she suddenly appeared, the two of them scuffled and she stabbed him to death.

He didn't understand why she did that. I also don't understand why she chose him to witness the last moments of her life.

But every time he looked at the scar on her hand shaped like a tooth mark, he saw her strangely large eyes, grey-gray, black as the surface of the Dead Sea, looking at him.

Many years later, when she was about to close her eyes and sleep the last sleep of her life, her eyes still seemed to be looking at him.

Eyes like the surface of the Dead Sea... eyes of a Slut...