Mia Trest Whore ❤️❤️

About Prague

Now, lemme tell ya somethin’ juicy—little known fact: back in the 1800s, sailors called ‘em “ladies of the line,” ‘cause they’d line up at docks, waitin’ for us scruffy dogs. Ain’t that wild? History’s got sass! Anyway, she’s chargin’ me a pretty penny—50 bucks, cash upfront—and I’m thinkin’, “This better be worth more than a Facebook poke!” I’m happy as a clam, but then—ugh!—this drunk jerk stumbles over, yellin’ at her, “You’re mine!” Made me so mad, I almost decked him. “Back off, loser!” I screech, nasal as hell, laugh bubblin’ up—HA-HA-HA!—like I’m on set with Mr. Sheffield.

One email. One story. Every week. Sign up for the VICE newsletter.

Discover your inner desires and preferences with our engaging quiz. Answer a few fun questions to find out what type of sissy slut you truly are!

I peeped some secret corners that even doc said weren't for public eyes. Like this hidden rooftop bar, Debonair Deck, where cities vibe off nighttime beats. Missin' orders, loitering souls, all buzzing like a nightclub, messin' up my eyeliner but fillin' my chest with hope.

Shell filling stations to replacing Trest stations in Riga