"How much for a fuck?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper, yet laced with hunger. The transaction is quick, the money exchanged for a ride to a cheap motel. There, she performs for the camera, a debased dance of lust and desperation. She's a whore, and she knows it, but the money talks, and she listens. The sex is rough, brutal, her body used and abused, but she cums walking, her body aching, but her pockets full.