sith, me, ary, myself


Dark Fire Musings

aka MYK, MederuKabuto, arystormdragon

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Confessions of a Chocolate Whore
sith, me, ary, myself
*Note: the following is a work of fiction, one of those random ideas that tend to float around. Please do not take anything after this message seriously.*


I was always paid for what I do, even when I first started, even before I decided to make a career of it. It helped, back then, that I was hopelessly addicted to chocolate. Preferably dark chocolate, although I usually take whatever someone's willing to offer. My parents were naturally horrified when they found out about those early years, those early boyfriends, and my now-shattered hopes that a lasting, loving relationship could be built on chocolate.

I came into womanhood at the tender age of thirteen. My hair was bleached-blonde and stylish, my ice blue eyes cutting through long lashes to glare at passerby. I was never what you'd call beautiful, per se, but I was likable enough, and the boys never complained. As a kid, I'm sure you can remember being given chocolate, or candy, or really any kind of sugary food when an adult wanted to be your friend. After a while, the adults tend to stop giving you things and expect you to converse with them to achieve the same effect. I never lost that saucer-eyed, naive trust that is given to someone who gives you candy.

My first boyfriend gave me a whole box of Hershey's milk chocolate as a Valentine's Day gift. I had sex for the first time, with him, almost exactly one month later, following another gift of chocolate. My second boyfriend also gave me chocolate, usually white. This was right about the time I started realising that I was addicted to chocolate, to the way truffles just collapse in your mouth, to the silky smoothness of 70% dark chocolate, to the bitter hardness of 85% and to the heady aftertaste of white chocolate.

Word began to spread that I'd do anything for a piece of chocolate. The rumours were mostly true; I'd do anything for a box of chocolate, one piece was never enough. Boys began to give me chocolate at parties, and in return I gave them my body. I became, quite literally, a chocolate whore. It was great for nearly five years, right up until I started asking for money so that I could buy myself the chocolate I so desperately needed to live. I'd started to lose the innocence, the naivete that had so charactrerised my early career as a whore when I began to charge money for my services.

These days, I'm a moderately attractive, dark-haired whore. I dress in thigh-high black boots, a cute little white pleather miniskirt, and a jewel-tone 'beater. I no longer accept chocolate as a valid form of payment, mostly because these days I get paid enough to buy an entire chocolate store (if I wanted to). But I will never ever refuse someone's gift of chocolate. Especially not the dark kind. Mmm....just thinking of the dark chocolate waiting in my freezer makes me drool a little. I can't continue to write this in good faith, so I must depart in search of amazing chocolate.


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