Mila Kitty

Mila was my girlfriend for seven years. She was a dominatrix too, and really good at it, creative as fuck and also a genius engineer. She wrote this in my private LiveJournal on November 27th, 2018 04:05 am. She died in a motorcycle accident on May 8th, 2019. Her motto was “Modesty is for people who suck.” – Eris

Starts off in a bathroom. Very unremarkable. Black and white, oversaturated image with a lack of coilor. Very film, noire. Beautiful girl with makeup in an empty and slightly dirty bathtub, victorian style architecture, talking about her life as a sex worker. She doesn’t describe iut as anything other than a fucking job, then discusses her drug use that allows her to stomach being touched erotically by people she isn’t attracted to. She cuts her arm in a weird place, and the tub starts to fill with waterand no blood. Molly and coke, they siultaneously kill me and breathe life directly into my veins.
She gets out, puts n some makeup, which looks ceepy and fucking weird, goes into the main room which is like a dark circus of performers, artists, learned peole who experience the bohemian life of party and celebration every single day.

A man walks in, lights her cigarettre, as soon as it is lit, the room is hers. Bg plump lips wrap around her cig holder and her lingerie is described by the man in the most eloquent way.

SHe says, it’s hard to be sad in this line of work, I am the love of someone’s life until they cum, then iot’s over. I get divorcred like 5 times a day. You stop caring after a few days, but the pain and scars are still there. We just coer them with makeup and dress it up so you can pleasure yourseflf with the little bit of huumanity and feeliung is left.



Gradually as the next scene progresses, it is revealed by the way she is interacting with her customers that she is a trans girl. She begins to explain to her friends that it is economically an unfeasible life. You are going to need 100k, and you’re like 14 or 18 andyou really hae no way to pay for the surgeries and your body has already changed for the most part. You start to see the vidoes of little kids transitionjinhg and exp[eriencing the acceptance that yhou wish you had craved as a youth, but ultimatelyh you were discarded because you were no loinger in tehe cute phase of dressing up.

Pan and zoom, back to a 20/15 lens, we are in the tubn, and this pain is coming out of her bloofd. She takea deep breath, racks a line of coke and snnorts it, qeue intro (name and actor sequence)

after a bgi day, celebrity snortfest, you snag some clients and come back to our partner with a big wad of cash. Like unusually big. You throw 10k on the bedcrush your ball of coke and light a cig, all this for you baby. The white knight shines through her ivory skin, but she still puyts her feet up like a vampire gangsta. She lies about why she did it. It wasn’t just for her partner to survive, it was for the both of us. They both do a few lines and get into a fight. I didn’t get food on the way home like I was supposed to. I fucking hate getting food, (fuzzy inner turmoil narrative) shakes head and says, well princess let’s get the fuck outtta here and get some food in studio city. Christ has been mercful today and she utters yes, because she knows I wish a nigga would.

Where to eat, there is an entire world beyond your world. The night is young, it is only 2AM. Vampira and her slave leave the house, collared and leashed. Like a good girl, she wiggles her hips as she opens the door to your camaro. You reach over and get her door, she scoffs and pouts because she wanted to be a gent, but you remind her that if you wouldn;t reach over and get her door, you ain’t worth a fuckin thing. The world of the night owls, time when the things are crazy and the world gets rough.,..and you catch pokemon as you drive. You take the fistfulls of cash, the atm won’t take more than 3k at a time. Every person that walks in looks at you with your fucked up makeup, ripped stockings and thinks about robbing you, then they see the tiniest hint of metal in your other hand and immediately want nothing to do with whatever it is that you do to earn money. You unconciously emit an aura of danger and savage prejudice. Strike first, strike ha\rd, no mercy. You immediately recall a memory of being told by your client that is a cop, and the other that is a seal, nobody is worth more than you. You are the most valuable to yourself and the last thing you ever need is to learn that the hard way. Just take my word for it, strike first, don’t ask questions, get out, stay cold emotionally because you didn’t deserve to be in the situation in whichj you found yourself. You are alive, you are safe, and are being gentle to yourself because you have it rough despite having a silky touch.

You both sneak into the bathroom at some weird burger place called umami. You stop there because it has giant chairs. YOu love dumb shit like that. Little deetails that people overlook like the egyptian style cat eye makeup that you wear at work. YOu pull the condom of coke out of your panties and slide your go bag out. (gradually you are starting to sound more tacticool and deliberate in your actions.) Rack a line for each of you then get back to the table high as fuck, order a ridiculous cornicopia of childish foods. Root beer floats, burgers made of fillet, and gold infused water. A moment of panic, you left what you should have never brought out, in the bathroom. THe guys arouind you start to notice that you have the voice. It isn’t your face or your build, but the sound you make. Five octaves up and a bit nasally and you are a woman again. “Miss” a baby’s voice utters. You left this in the bathroom. Well, if I’m a fag, this guy takes the cake up his ass, shits it out, eats it, vomits it out and his gay lover flies out of his ass to eat it. (kevin)

You hear the lamborghini’s of the persisans kl

driving long string of green lights, …not bad for a days work.

Wake up completely disoriented, don’t know where I am how I got there, quickly realize I”m hjome, the alarm that tells mew i’m late goes off, frantic get ready scenario, eyedrops, colored contacts, foundation, mascara, eye makeup, put lingerie on under my “normal clothes” which are going to include green men’s cargo pants and a button down shirt that is open exposing my ampl3e breasts. Elaborates a bit on her car. She parks it in front of the workplace, which is across from the chop shop and a bunch of trap houses. They have gangster looking people hanging around outside, they steal from other cars but they respecct her FOR IT.. She has a hustler’s pride. hER CAMARO is pink, has roland sands/schwartskopf/mexican style graphics, She is gangster af. She throws up a scissor gang sign and laughs because she gets so much shit from the homies for not learning their signs. But they always admire her car and keep people from fucking with it.

Enter, trap house. Gangster looking guy, either black or mexican, welcomes you into his home. Whatchu need sweetie? (says it in a sly devilish way) a quarter and a couple grams. YOure up from last week, everything ok at home? Yeah, just have a lot on my plate, holidays and lack of feeling love and warmth. It’s dark and cold in here. You better take care of yourself, you’re my number one customer, anyone fucks with you, just remember who you are and that I got your back. ANything. You got it. I throw him a little baggie with some hundreds, he doesn’t count it, he knows it is all there, a girl walks in , unremarkable with a little security pouch like you get at green dot. Here is your medicine, now get back to work before the ghouls come out to getcha. He eyes someone trying to jack my car, he just whistles and turns his head from side to side, she’s a villain like me., Dont fuck with her or yhou get the spike. Then points to a guy wearing an eye patch. He became a pirate when he met her spike;

I walk into the brothel, throw down my gear, rack acouple lines of coke, crush up some molly, and mix it in with the blow, I snort it, get high as fuck, and lay on the chaise lounge touching myself. The house cat (black shorthairkl or pom) comes up and starts rubnbing itself on me, and for the first time, I am interacting with anything sensually in a wow that feels nice kinda way. This insinuates that I am no longer huyman, maybe do some effect with contacts where my eyes look like doggo eyes opr cat eyes. My whole workday is a quick montage, and I am immerdiately in thge bath coming down. My phone rings again, and again and again, ch ching ch chging. I look at the lonely faces, I give them what they want. I PACK MY SHIT, military style backpack, and leave . I throw 5g’s on the bed. Post a pic of me laying on 50k in cash on mmy insta. I’m a lucky lady. I’m a bad bitch.hujy