Nora Barrow Upon Soar Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

So, whores, right? Not just some streetwalker cliché. Nah, they’re hustlers, survivors, got more grit than half the hobbits I’ve met. Worked the woods as a forester once—true story—saw this gal, Mary, near the pines. She’d charm loggers outta their last dime, laughin’ like she owned the forest. Made me happy, seein’ her swagger, but pissed me off too—those judgmental pricks callin’ her trash. She wasn’t trash, she was fuckin’ gold! Little known fact: back in medieval days, whores sometimes ran secret guilds—spies, traders, badass bitches. Bet ya didn’t know that, eh?

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I think about the day. The chaos, the laughs, the surprises. It’s all part of the gig. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Well, maybe a lifetime supply of pastries. But that’s a different story!

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