Eric and I sat together on our small apartment's worn-out couch, surrounded by packed bags and a world map spread out on the coffee table. The apartment, cozy but cluttered, had been our shared space for the past year, a place filled with late-night study sessions, Netflix binges, lazy Sunday mornings, and great sex. 

We had both recently graduated from Portland Central College, a small liberal arts school with a progressive curriculum that had shaped much of our thinking and values. It was there that we met, during a US History class that neither of us particularly enjoyed. 

Eric had caught my attention with his quiet intelligence and kind smile. We were both intrigued by each other's whit, and soon, we started hanging out more often. Our relationship blossomed quickly, fueled by a shared love for adventure and deep conversations about the world. 

Eric, with his messy brown hair and earnest blue eyes, was the perfect complement to my sometimes impulsive nature. He was thoughtful, patient, and always eager to support my crazy ideas. I, on the other hand, brought a bit of spontaneity and excitement into his life. We balanced each other out, creating a partnership that felt solid and fulfilling. We were, as they say, the ying to each other’s yang. Eric is the first relationship I’ve had where I can actually see us getting married and having a future together. As scary as it sounds, we’ve even talked about it.

When we started dating, we spent countless hours dreaming about the future, and those dreams often revolved around traveling the world together. Portland, with its quirky vibe and rainy weather, had been the perfect backdrop for the beginning of our love story, but we wanted more. We wanted to see the world, experience different cultures, and create memories that would last a lifetime. So, we made a plan: after graduation, we would embark on a year-long journey around the globe. We saved every penny we could, taking on extra shifts at our part-time jobs, and finally, we had enough to start our dream a reality.

We didn’t have enough money to cover the entire trip. Call us optimistic, but we figured we could make money as we went. Our plan was to find jobs in a city we liked and stay there for a while and get jobs to earn some extra cash to build up our savings. 

On Friday, June 12th, we left Portland behind, our hearts filled with excitement and anticipation. Our first stop was Seoul, South Korea. The city was a blend of the old and the new, and we spent two weeks exploring its vibrant neighborhoods, visiting ancient temples, and indulging in delicious street food. The bustling markets and neon lights were a stark contrast to Portland's laid-back atmosphere, and we loved every minute of it. 

From Seoul, we flew to Tokyo, Japan, where we spent an entire month soaking in the culture. We marveled at the futuristic technology, wandered through serene gardens, and even got lost in the maze-like streets of Shibuya. Japan was a place of wonder, and it felt like we were living in a dream.

Our journey continued to Beijing, China, where we stood in awe of the Forbidden City and hiked along the Great Wall. The history and grandeur of China were overwhelming, and we felt humbled by the experience. 

From Beijing, we took a high-speed train to Shanghai, a city that dazzled us with its modern skyline and vibrant nightlife. The contrast between the old and the new fascinated us, and we spent days exploring the city's diverse neighborhoods.

After our adventures in China, we flew to Hong Kong, a city that felt like a melting pot of cultures. The towering skyscrapers, bustling streets, and vibrant markets were exhilarating, but it was also in Hong Kong that reality began to set in. Our savings were dwindling faster than we had anticipated due to the high cost of living in some of these places. We would be fine for a little while, but sooner or later we would have to find some kind of income to keep our dream alive. 

Being the spontaneous one, I didn't stress about it. I knew we would find something. Eric on the other hand really started to freak out. The language barrier made it difficult to find temporary work. We had come so far and seen so much, but now it felt like our journey was on the brink of ending prematurely. 

Eric and I both scoured online job boards, desperately searching for opportunities. We were willing to do almost anything to keep our dream alive, but the job market seemed bleak. The realization that we might have to cut our trip short was a bitter pill to swallow. Something neither of us enjoyed talking about. The uncertainty of our situation weighed heavily on us, and we spent long nights discussing our options, trying to figure out a way to stretch our remaining funds.

One evening Eric went out to meet up with some people we’d met on our first day in Hong Kong. I elected to stay home, claiming I was too tired. I had started looking at job boards in other countries, hoping maybe I’d find something and it’d give us a new destination. While browsing online, I stumbled upon an ad that caught my eye. 

Professional Women Wanted: Earn $1000 a day while making your own schedule. Safe and clean environment. Health screening required. 

My heart raced as I clicked on the link. It led to a website for a brothel in Sydney, Australia, looking for new employees. The idea shocked me, and my initial reaction was to close the page immediately. 

How fucking gross. I thought to myself.

I liked to think of myself as a feminist, and the idea of willingly objectifying myself made my skin crawl. No way was I going to sell my body for random men to use. I wanted to gag. But as I stared at the screen, the reality of our financial situation hit me hard. Could this be a way to keep our trip going?

With a mix of curiosity and desperation, I decided to call the number listed in the ad. A woman answered, her voice calm and professional. She introduced herself and started asking me basic screening questions—my name, age, and where I was from. My heart pounded in my chest as I answered, feeling like I was walking a tightrope. When she asked if I had any experience as a sex worker, I hesitated, reminded of what the job entailed. Part of me wanted to hang up, but another part—driven by a mix of intrigue and financial desperation—kept me on the line.

“No.” I sighed, a voice deep inside was disappointed at my will power. 

“Are you sexually active?” the woman continued. 

“Yes…” I said nervously.

She explained that they were a reputable brothel in Sydney, employing seven women and looking to add an eighth. She spoke about the nature of the work, and the importance of discretion. My mind raced as I listened, grappling with the idea of doing something so out of the ordinary. 

What would my family think?

But the promise of quick money was tempting.

“Are you still interested in the position?” the woman asked.

I paused for a moment. The voice inside my head screaming NO!

“Sure.” I said, going against my better judgment. 

I’m not sure why I said it. Maybe I was desperate to get a job after a couple weeks of getting nowhere. Maybe I was starting to come to terms with the precariousness of our financial situation. 

She then asked if I could send some nude photos for their consideration. The request made my stomach churn, but I found myself once again agreeing. After hanging up, I felt a mix of guilt and excitement. 

Eric and I had always been open about our sexuality, and we'd even talked about our fantasies. I told him about how I really wanted to know what it was like to have a threesome with two guys. He told me how he was always wanted to watch me with another girl. We knew each other’s sexual histories. But this was different—this was real. 

Sending nudes to boyfriends was something I had done lots of time, but this was different. This was for a job, and they’d be seen by complete strangers. 

I set up my phone, feeling a strange mix of fear and thrill.

I removed my clothes and awkwardly posed myself on the floor of our hotel room. I ran through the list of photos the woman requested. One was of me sitting on the floor, my legs spread, so the camera could see my pussy. Another was of me sitting on the floor pressing my boobs together. Another was of me bent over, giving the camera a clear shot of my pussy and asshole. 

Then I stood up and walked in front of the mirror. Seeing myself made me reconsider what I was doing. 

Are you really applying to work in a brothel? What is everyone going to think?

I stood in front of the mirror, my light brown skin contrasting off the white walls of the hotel room. My pubic hair formed a neatly trimmed triangle just above my pussy. My 34C boobs were perfectly proportioned to the rest of my body. I personally thought they were my best feature. 

I took a photo in the mirror of my front side, and then my back side. When I was finished I quickly got dressed and sent the photos to the email address the woman had provided. My hands shook as I typed in the email and hit send. This was so unlike me.

Days passed, and the wait was agonizing. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done, wondering if I had made a huge mistake. 

How do I know this isn’t a bunch of creepy guys on the internet collecting nudes from random women?

I felt sick at the idea of my nude photos ending up on the internet, or being used by some creepy guy as something to look at while he jerked off.

Then, out of the blue, I received a call from a woman named Madam Jade. She had a thick Australian accent that sounded refined, authoritative and told me that they were interested in hiring me. She invited me to Sydney for an interview, and I agreed, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and dread. As soon as I hung up, I knew I had to talk to Eric. He had been my rock throughout this trip, and I was at a point where I couldn't keep this from him any longer.

If this were going to happen, he would need to be on board too. 

As the night began to creep over Hong Kong, I sat on the edge of the bed, my heart pounding in my chest. The room was tiny but comfortable, a temporary home filled with our backpacks and scattered souvenirs from our travels. Eric was leaning against the windowsill, looking out at the bustling city below. He seemed lost in thought, probably as worried as I was about our dwindling savings.

Taking a deep breath, I finally mustered the courage to speak. 

"Eric," I began, my voice hesitant. 

He turned to face me, his eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. 

"I... I found something online the other night. A job."

His eyebrows lifted in interest. "Oh? What kind of job?"

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. 

"Well, it's not a typical job. It's... different. I found an ad for a… brothel… in Sydney."

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air. Eric's face was unreadable, his expression a mask of shock and confusion. He slowly crossed the room and sat down next to me on the bed. 

"A brothel?!" he repeated, as if trying to process the word. "You mean, like... prostitution?"

I nodded, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. Hearing him say the word prostitution cut through me like a sharp knife. 

"Yeah, they were looking for new employees. The pay is good… Like… really good. They said I could make up to $1000 a day."

Eric's eyes widened, and he ran a hand through his messy brown hair, a habit he had when he was deep in thought. 

"Nina, that's... wow, that's a lot of money. But... I mean, are you seriously considering this?"

I looked down at my hands, nervously picking at a loose thread on my jeans. 

"I don't know," I admitted, "I mean, we’re spending our savings faster than we expected, and we haven't been able to find any other jobs. This could be a way to keep our trip going, to avoid having to go home early."

Eric took a deep breath, clearly grappling with the situation. 

"I get that, but... Nina, this is a big deal. It's not just any job. It's... selling your body." 

His voice softened, and he reached out to take my hand. "Are you sure you're okay with that?"

I met his gaze, seeing the concern in his eyes. 

"I don't know," I repeated, feeling a lump form in my throat, "It's not something I ever imagined doing. But the ad was so enticing, and... I called them. I talked to a woman, and she explained everything. It sounded... safe, I guess. Professional."

Eric squeezed my hand gently, his expression pensive. "What did they say?"

"They asked me some questions, like if I had any experience, and if I was sexually active," I explained, my voice shaky, "They told me more about the job. They employ seven women right now and are looking for an eighth. The woman on the phone said they have a clean, safe environment and require health screenings. And... she asked if I could send some nude photos for them to consider."

Eric's eyes widened again, but he remained silent, letting me continue.

"I know it sounds crazy," I went on, feeling a mixture of shame and defiance. "But I did it. I took the photos and sent them. And then... they called back. The owner… This woman named Madam Jade wants me to come to Sydney for an interview."

Eric let out a slow breath, his expression a mixture of shock and concern.

"Wow," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper, "Nina, I... I don't even know what to say."

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I fought them back. I knew I’d messed up. I let Eric down, disappointed him. 

"I know, Eric. It's insane. But we're running out of options. We might have to cut our trip short, go back home with nothing to show for it. This could be a way to keep our dream alive, to keep traveling and experiencing the world."

Eric was silent for a moment, his grip on my hand tightening. 

"But at what cost? Is it worth losing your dignity?" he finally asked, his voice filled with concern, "Nina, I love you. I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

His words hit me hard, and I felt a tear slip down my cheek. 

"I don't know what to do," I confessed, my voice breaking. "I want to keep traveling, to keep exploring with you. If that means i need to fuck a few guys, then I’ll do it."

Eric wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a comforting embrace. "We'll figure out the money thing," he murmured into my hair. "You don’t need to do this though. I just want you to be safe and happy. Whatever decision we make, we'll make it together."

“I know…” I said, nodding into his chest, “I feel like this is the best option we have right now, other than going home.”

Eric sighed, “I just… I don’t know if I can handle you doing this.”

I squeezed his hand tight, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. The reality of our situation was daunting, and the prospect of working in a brothel was both terrifying and intriguing. But as I sat there in Eric's arms, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this unconventional path could be the answer we were looking for.

We spent the rest of the night talking about it. It was a tense conversation. I think Eric was afraid of coming off too possessive, something that had annoyed me about my previous boyfriends. I also treaded lightly, not wanting to disregard his feelings. At the end of the night we both decided to table the conversation for later. We both needed more time to think about it.

The next morning, Eric and I sat at a quaint little café in the heart of Hong Kong, the air filled with the comforting aroma of fresh coffee and pastries. The city buzzed around us, but our little table felt like an island of calm amidst the chaos. As we sipped our coffees and picked at our breakfasts, the conversation from the previous night loomed over us, unspoken but palpable.

Eric finally broke the silence, his voice tentative. 

"So, about the brothel job... I'm not going to lie, Nina. I'm worried. I don't know if I can handle you having sex with strangers every day." He looked down at his coffee cup, swirling the liquid absentmindedly. 

"I mean, I don't know how I'll react, and I'm scared I might not be able to handle it." he added.

I reached across the table and took his hand, trying to offer some comfort. 

"I understand, Eric. This isn't easy for either of us." I squeezed his hand gently, hoping to reassure him, "But remember, it's just sex. It’s not emotional. What we have... It goes beyond that. Our connection, our love, it's deeper than anything I could ever experience with a stranger."

He nodded, still looking uncertain. 

"I know you're right, but it still feels... weird. Like, you're going to be with other people, and I can't help but feel a little... jealous, I guess."

"I get that," I said softly, "If I take this job, we need to be clear about what's okay and what's not. I want to make sure we're both comfortable with this."

Eric took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself. "Okay, well... I think I want to know about your day. Even if it means hearing about you with clients. I want to make sure you feel safe and supported, and I think knowing what's going on will help me cope. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me."

I nodded, appreciating his honesty. "I can do that. I'll tell you everything, as much as you want to know."

"And... our sex life," he continued, his voice quieter, "I'm worried it might change, you know? If you're... doing it with other guys all day, will you still want to be with me? Will it feel different?"

I leaned closer, my voice earnest. 

"Eric, our sex life won't change because of this. If anything, it'll make me appreciate what we have even more. We can keep our physical connection strong. What if we try to have sex every night? That way, we can stay close, both emotionally and physically."

He seemed to relax a bit at that, nodding in agreement. 

"Okay, I can do that. But how long do you think you'll need to work there? I mean, we need the money, but I don't want this to drag on forever."

I thought about it for a moment, doing the mental math. 

"If I can earn $1000 a day, I think ten days should be enough to rebuild our savings. That would give us a nice cushion to keep traveling for a while."

Eric looked at me, his eyes searching. 

"Are you really okay with this, Nina? You don't have to sell your body just to keep our dream alive."

I smiled, trying to ease his worries. 

"It's not ideal, but right now, it's the best option we have. Like I said, it's just sex, Eric. You and I have both had one night stands. It’s no different than that. Less than that, actually. I'll be fine. What's the worst that can happen?"

He sighed, a resigned look crossing his face. 

"I guess you're right. If this is what you want, I'll support you. Let's do this, then. We'll get through it together."

We finished our breakfast and headed back to the hotel. There, we booked a flight to Sydney, the next step in our unpredictable journey. As we packed our bags, I felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The path ahead was uncertain, but I knew that as long as we had each other, we'd find a way to make it through.