The neon lights blur as I stand on this filthy street, sweat soaking through my cheap black t-shirt. My fingers brush the red string tied securely around my waist - my last remaining dignity in this godforsaken place. Then he appears, a vision of wealth and cold desire in his expensive suit. One look, and I know tonight will be different. The way he stares at me like I'm both trash and treasure awakens something primal. He offers me money, but what he really wants is to unravel me, to see how long I can keep that red string intact as he pushes me to my limits. This isn't just a transaction - it's a dangerous game where pain and pleasure blur, and neither of us will emerge unchanged.