These aren't the stories your mother told you.

No, these are the other stories.

Dopamine, written by Ben Erington, narrated by Harry Dobby.

A man once called me morally bankrupt.

The two words were in the middle of a particularly venomous email that was riddled with spelling errors and rationale

that could only come from a person who had always got exactly what he wanted from women,

either using manipulation or violence or a combination of the two.

Through reading his furious message that was packed together without the thought or care

for grammar or punctuation,

I felt that I could learn more from him than I ever could from any of my other so-called fans.

I became fascinated by the idea of being morally bankrupt and wondered if, in his eyes at least, I could ever get out of the red and back into the black.

Somehow earn back his respect so I'd return to being a goddess, or angel, or vision of perfection.

Was it just my looks and ability to please him that granted me those morals?

As the years had passed and my body had become less toned and tanned,

the body shamers and lonely masturbators were the ones who reduced me to a whore,

somebody who wallowed at the bottom of society and didn't deserve a chance of happiness or retribution.

Or at least that was the opinion of the fuckers with superiority complexes that thought their

dead-end jobs were more valid than mine.

Hey, it's me that pays you for sex, so I must be better than you.

That was the abysmal attitude that I'd been made to put up with for years as I made my living in the sex industry.

I'd done some naked modelling that eventually turned into solo stuff that led me down the inevitable road of pornography.

I wasn't chewed up and spit out by the business as many girls my age had been, and although I had met

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