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Letters From a Wild West Prostitute: Forced Retirement
We’ve all heard the old adage, if you want to do something professionally, you start by doing it for free – and if you’re really great at it, someone will eventually pay you. Now, as I look back after all of these years and all of my professional success, I can’t believe that there once was a time when I had sex for free.
Has the time come, Daisy? Should I hang up my garters?
I ask because Surly wants me to stop whoring so much. It’s not that I don’t appreciate her reasons, I do. In many ways she’s right – I just turned thirty and in the paid sex business that may as well be 65, I suppose. But in all honesty, I’m not sure that I’m ready. Aside from the fact that it has been a lifetime of hard work and steady lubrication to put myself in this position, I’m really good at it. Surly retired last year and she keeps talking about how happy she is just doing the Madame thing now. The only thing is, for her that makes sense! She barely likes talking to people let alone riding them.
But now that it’s coming down to it I’m running out of excuses to keep plowing away at the old job. Lord knows I don’t need the money. Delilah handles most of the high rollers now, Pearl takes the exotic requests and Chastity lets the boys eat breakfast off of that table of tits she’s been blessed with. Then there’s the fact that I really should be focusing more on the family project… the reason that Surly and I left you and our home to come out here in the first place. The stark truth of it is that I have only greedy reasons to keep doing what God blessed me with the gifts to do.
So I ask you, my lovely, insightful Daisy, is greed okay? Am I a bad sister if I continue to grind paychecks out of unsuspecting 18 year-olds? Am I selfish if I yearn to flood the Sheriff and his Deputies in the blissful agony that is the “Banana Spider”?
If you agree with Surly, I will retire. You two are all that I have and all that I will ever love. I look forward to your thoughts on the matter.
Love Always,
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P.S. I guess it’s not the end of the world if I must retire. I can always just find a husband with some handsome friends and work out a few new tricks to teach the girls.
A Day in the Life of a Bandolero
Clyde, the leader of the Bandoleros, shares a photo album with captions that tell the story of a typical Wednesday for a pack of wild west villains.
- Today I shot at a floating furniture blanket
- I missed
- So I aimed real careful like, then missed again
- Blankets make me so mad!
- Ching here is in my gang. I gave him a gun.
- But he don't know how to use it
- So I let him carry his sword
- This one's Sancho, he's proud and religious
- Every day he shoots twice at the devil
- And twice at the Lord
- Mouth here is the muscle of my gang
- I recently gave him a gun too
- I have my doubts about that decision
- Damn near killed himself shootin' Sancho's Devil
- That afternoon, me and Mouth saw a bank!
- So we robbed it.
- Sancho took care of the Deputies
- A posse forced us to take higher ground
- Only now I realized that we were trapped
- So we took the town drunk hostage!
- He gave us an Injun plant called Peyote. Nice Guy!
- Ching cooked up the Peyote for dinner
- After dinner, Ching had trouble standing...
- Mouth got all paranoid...
- I thought my gun was Grandma Winnie
- And Sancho fell asleep.
- In my heightened state I wondered, what next?
- We dance!
- Then I saw that blanket again... POW!


































