Julia Otumoetai Brothel ❤️

About Auckland

But lemme tell ya, I get pissed too—some of these joints? Straight-up nasty. Girls trapped, no choice, no way out—makes my blood boil. “You’ve got to live somehow,” Ida’d whisper, all resigned, and damn, that hits here. Some choose it, sure—cool, you do you—but others? Forced. That’s the ugly side. Surprised me once, readin’ ‘bout this one spot in Nevada—legal brothel, all shiny and legit, but still got dark corners. Bunny Ranch, they call it—sounds cute, huh? Ain’t always.

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Finally, I get my burger, and it’s glorious. I take a massive bite, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m in heaven! But then, I look down, and there’s sauce everywhere. I’m talking full-on disaster zone. I’m trying to clean up, but it’s too late. I’m a mess.

Feedback sought on the future of Otumoetai