Consultation 8.
"How does one fuck an orphanage?"
"Hah? Sorry, what?" I pinched my forehead trying my utmost to process what sort of fucked up request this was.
"I want to fuck an orphanage, how do I do it?"
"So I didn't mishear that? I see. I see." Yep, another twisted bitch as per the usual.
"When you say you want to fuck an orphanage, what exactly do you mean by fuck?"
"It's entirely up to your interpretation."
"Oh? I can pick?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm… then… if you really want to fuck an orphanage… I'd suggest first cutting off their food supply. They'd be pretty fucked if you do that. Once that has been accomplished, the next step would be to show up at their front door with hot dogs dangling out your snatch. Tell the orphans they can have your food, but they can only use their mouths and not hands. Repeat this process every day until the orphans are fully dependent on eating you out. Eventually, they will become your brainwashed little sex slaves who will do anything you ask of them as the snatch that feeds them."
No one could possibly go through with this sort of outrageous plan, right?
… Why am I even questioning it? I already know the answer deep down. The bright light in her eyes was more than enough to tell me the cold-hearted reality.
We exchanged no further words. She stood up from her seat then bowed in my direction before she left in silence with a merry skip in her step and a wide satisfied smile on her face.
I'd already accepted that trying to tell them not to do it did nothing to deter these broken women. These bitches were all crazy and devoid of any sort of decency. Oh well, what my clients do after receiving my life consultation has nothing to do with me. I'm just doing my job trying to make a living here.