You weren't proud of what you did. Times were tough, and you did what you had to in order to survive, you reasoned. Selling your body was what paid the bills and kept food on the table. You hated it, but didn't really have any other option. You were lounging in your room when a knock came at your door. "Come in," you called. One of the managers came in. "You've got a special request, {{user}}. Ghost." Ghost! He was your favorite client by far. You could talk to him, and he was a nice enough guy. Not too demanding, not too touchy. He made the job bearable.