Original subtitles

I've had a lot of stupid ideas during my life.

But I feel that this one's always been there.

More or less consciously.

I thought I'd got it when my heart was broken for the first time...

But if I'm completely honest, it was long before that.

Maybe when I knew what distinguished women from little girls.

Maybe when I started reading...

or writing my first novel.

Or maybe simply since my first time.

You wonder what a young woman like me, does in such a place?

It's a good question.

And it's a good story.

Well, I think so.

It began a year and a half ago.

I was walking with my best friend along a big Berlin street, at night.

THE HOUSE

You're completely crazy, Emma!

I know you backwards... you'll love this.

It's here.

Wait... look at that!

These Germans take the cake!

The shrink on the left, the whores on the right.

Come on, come on.

You do the talking.

We're celebrating our wedding anniversary.

- No. You wanted to come, you do the talking. - Okay.

You've no wedding ring, they'll see through us!

You think they'd worry about that? Don't be silly!

I can't. I don't want to.

Stephane... come back!

Can't you sleep?

No.

What's up?

You know me...

Before you arrive I was dying of loneliness.

Now that you're here...

I need my space.

You must really fucking love yourself.

My poor little girl.

It'll cost you big in shrinks, all that.

Don't be stupid.

Hi.

Stephane's not here?

No, he's gone to London.

Isn't it hard to sleep with your friend...

and know he's gone with his wife?

Not really.

Can you pass me a knife?

That's exactly why that it works between us.

Yeah... Thanks.

I've slept really well.

I feel so good here.

But I had a dream that was too weird.

You were signing a book...

and a long line of people was waiting.

Except that it wasn't your book...

but "The History of Poland".

- "The History of Poland". - Yes, I swear.

- With your name on the cover. - And I signed?

Yeah, just like that. As if it were normal.

What's the weirdest...?

That I wrote this book, or the long line of readers...

who want a dedication.

Don't exaggerate. Your last book was successful.

I guess so.

I think you belittle yourself...

because you don't have the subject of the next one.

This is a reputable house.

Here, we're all professionals.

I understand.

Is this your first time?

My first time, what?

Have you ever been prostitute before?

Yes.

Oh, yes.

Of course. You really are French?

Yes, of course.

You worked here in Berlin?

No, I moved here very recently, actually.

And the boss? Is he nice?

The boss never touches the girls.

We hardly ever see him.

However, he sees us.

OK...

There's two of them in there.

A name?

Of course, you can use your own, Emma.

- Justine. - Justine... alright.

There's a card with your name on it.

We'll find you an empty locker, and bring your own padlock. OK?

Mika, show the French girl the bath and make-up rooms...

and give her a pair of shoes.

Come on.

You can take this one.

I want you to take a shower after every client, OK?

At least you use the bidet.

And don't use too much soap... It causes irritation.

Yep.

- Come. - Yes.

Yes.

So in an hour, you can come twice.

Additional are 20 euros more.

Kissing on the mouth or a blow-job without condom is also 20 euros more.

But not with Justine, She doesn't do that.

No, an hour at the normal rate is fine.

- Follow me. - Okay.

Do you want me to put on some music?

Okay.

Maybe some champagne? It's only 20 euros extra.

No, it's okay... come here.

OK.

Sit on me.

That's it.

It's very dangerous!

No, it's not dangerous. I need money.

You kidding?

Become a saleswoman or waitress, like everyone else.

I want to write about it, to know how it goes...

to meet customers, talk to the girls...

It's a good subject for a book...

but you can meet whores in other ways.

In addition, in Berlin, it's not at all complicated.

Just accept the fact that I want to do it!

Damn it...!

You and I don't have the same relationship to screwing. No matter.

But you don't have to judge me.

Stop, I'm not judging you, you know...

But I'm your sister and I'm worried. That's normal, isn't it?

Emma to like sex, and wanting to talk about it...

like in your books...

It's rare and really great, It's really something.

But becoming a whore, Emma, is another thing altogether.

What if Mum finds out... Have you thought about that?

There's no reason for her to know.

We agree on that?

- That OK? - Yes.

You know that if you write this book...

it'll haunt you your whole life.

To the world, you'll never again be just a writer.

You'll also be a whore, for all time.

I may not want to be "just a writer", as you call it.

I don't do this to please.

I don't care what people think.

Oh yeah!

Where are you going?

I'm going home.

You think in this house, the girls are not welcoming?

That guy's looking at you. What are you waiting for?

Hello... I'm Justine.

- From Paris. - I'm Mark, from Oregon.

Nice to meet you.

Why did you get into this business?

You're way too good for this.

You're like a dream.

A dream with a rent to pay.

Actually I'm a writer.

I want to write a book about brothels, and desire.

But it's a big secret I'm telling you, OK?

No one must find out.

OK. I won't tell a soul. You can trust me.

What brings you here?

My friends dragged me along.

I became a father 6 months ago.

To a boy.

Congratulations.

And my wife...

can't bear me to touch her anymore.

I love her.

Dearly.

But I miss her.

So much!

I understand.

Come on.

Lay down.

I'm sorry.

You should never have gone back there.

You think I did it because of our stupid tiff?

You know me better than that Stephane.

What are you doing?

I'm walking the dog.

I'm going home, I'm cold.

- What? - I'm damn cold.

- Are you listening to me? - Yes, I'm listening.

It really is a stupid idea.

There's is a difference between loving to fuck and becoming a whore.

Of course, I'm worried.

You're a writer... you can understand.

Writer is not a journalist. Writing is...

It's not telling... it's inventing.

We can go on discussing this forever.

Most clients I've had, have been...

really like "normal".

A little bald, with a wedding ring, and they fuck normally.

I really don't want to hear about it.

What's the point of cheating on his wife, if it's to fuck missionary?

When you cheat on your wife with me, it's joyful.

Alright, but I don't want to know.

Come on! It's only you who would understand.

You see, I had a client who I found very charming.

It's weird, but it's harder with a handsome guy.

You prefer them ugly?

Good heavens! It gets better and better!

Really, I wanted to please him... He confused me, I...

I screwed up... I confided in him. He knows about the book.

You see, you still believe in love.

You're stupid.

The boss is not happy with you.

He says you spend more time with your nose in that notebook...

writing whatever...

while you should be busy with the clients.

He doesn't like it.

Okay.. So I've just been waiting...

like all the girls on the...

Watch out, Justine.

I'll give you a second chance..

But only because it's chic to have a French girl.

Okay.

I'm sorry, you can not smoke here.

You can not smoke here.

I don't do it without a condom.

I can call another girl for you...

Okay...

No... Sir... I'm sorry, it's forbidden.

- You do lines? - No, you can't do that.

- No... - One for you...

- No! - And one for me.

Sir, you cannot do drugs here, OK?

It's forbidden in the house.

Sir, listen to me...

I'm going to have to call my boss, OK?

What I say goes, understand?

I'm the boss, you're my girl.

One for you.

Take it.

I don't do or take...

- Now! - OK.

That's it!

I said five minutes ago that it's time.

I'll have another one. One more hour.

Keep still.

And I want coke too!

We don't do that, Sir.

I know the boss well.

- Bring him here! - No.

Now!

The boss doesn't come to the rooms.

Stop shouting or we'll have you thrown out.

- Where's the boss? - Be quiet!

What?

I can't sleep. How are you?

Not that great.

I sensed it. I'm worried, Emma.

No, don't be.

What's happened?

Just a jerk who forced me to snort coke with him.

Damn, say it's not true, Emma...

I'm stoned... I don't like it at all.

Please, get out of there!

It's not the right place.

The girls act as if I didn't exist.

I heard about another brothel that's much better.

Are you kidding me? This keeps me awake!

You tell me that a guy just abused you!

Damn!

Not "abuse", we didn't even fuck.

You're going too far, Emma.

Why punish yourself?

I'm not... I'm working.

I'll write an honest account of this experience...

in this world that likes to fantasize too much.

In that case, stop hiding and call your editor.

He wants to know the subject of your new book.

Stop saying "your" editor!

He's your publisher too!

Because unlike with you...

he gives me neither an advance nor a contract!

And I'm broke!

Okay, Emma, I can help you, if you need.

You're getting on my nerves, Stephane!

Hi.

Good morning.

Dorothy... You want a coffee?

No, thanks sweetie.

I'm trying to quit stimulants.

You leaving already?

What "already"?

I've been here since 9 o'clock this morning and I did 3 sessions in the studio.

That's tough.

Argan oil!

- It comes from my district. - I know.

You put lemon oil in it.

Apparently it works wonders for cellulite.

Your clients will stink because of you.

Yeah, well, you know what...?

I don't worry about those lame rules anymore

Those idiots should learn to wash before they go home.

Okay... I'll try it.

You want some, Justine?

No thank you, I'm cellulite-free.

You're cellulite-free?!

What a French bitch!

The French want to make their brains sexy, more than their arse.

Are you in tomorrow?

Oh, God no.

I need a break this weekend.

Hey... I'm working nights...

every day at the hospital next week.

And Hans is coming home on Saturday.

- Is he better? - I don't know.

He's improving. His last week of rehab.

I've booked us a little hotel for the occasion.

I just hope I'm still gonna be open for sex by the end of next week.

You know... after a few days off...

my hips, my lower back, my entire body aches like hell.

When the pain goes, it feels so good, the last thing I want to do is fuck.

You'll be fine.

- You in tomorrow? - Yes.

- Goodbye girls. - Goodbye.

It smells strong of lemon in here.

I wonder what it is.

Justine, your appointment is here. You can take him into the red room.

I like this room.

It's not my favourite.

But it's still very welcoming.

Margaret told me...

you were in the hospital.

- She told you? - Yeah.

She was worried.

I had a heart operation.

On the bed for 2 weeks.

But I feel better now...

even if it makes me a little sad.

Why?

I'm unemployed, I'm a little bored...

and not so much money. So I visit less.

I understand.

Open your legs.

I buried my father last month.

Oh, shit.

I'm sorry.

When I looked down at the coffin...

I thought that I will be next.

In my head, I'm 15 still.

Only now my father's dead... and I have no girlfriend or kids.

Maybe it's time for you to settle down, with a woman.

You are all my little women.

You'll still see us.

Open your legs.

Did you get fucked a lot today?

4 times.

Look how beautiful this is!

What the hell!

They arouse you in your bum and all.

I adore them.

You should see the lingerie, it's amazing.

Perfect cliche of the courtesan, anyway.

We get paid for that, Madeleine... Not for wearing Calvin Klein panties.

At least you'd be different.

Well, for me, in real life...

I prefer something like this.

Show me.

I think it's more interesting.

- I like it. - You do?

Try it on.

All right.

But in exchange, you try these.

No way... they're horrible.

Don't you dare?

Madeleine...

You're annoying.

You disappoint me.

OK, let's try them on.

Have you missed us, Doc?

Terribly, my dear!

What can we do for you today?

Surprise me.

My beautiful lionesses!

No, keep going... I want to see you fuck.

Hildie... Take care of Justine, please.

Yes.

Beautiful sluts.

- That was good? - Yes.

Doc, can you give me a new prescription for the pill?

- Yes of course. - Thank you.

It's Gene-25 you're on?

How many do you want?

That's Delilah.

Instantly recognisable.

- Here you are, Justine. - Thank you very much.

The doctor has made another appointment with you two, next week.

He's such a gentleman.

Only they could all be like him.

"Gentleman", my arse! He's married.

And so?

I never get married.

Better never say never, Cadilla.

Trust me, I know what I mean.

Big day.

I'm dead.

I think I was too generous.

I gave him more than what he paid for.

It sounded like it.

Oh, really?

Maybe I went too far.

Anyway, they always come back with gifts, sweets, flowers.

The bastards?

You're telling me.

What exactly do you do with them?

Well, you know...

I don't know anymore how is works outside...

but here, in the brothel, well...

you are either being penetrated or you're penetrating.

I couldn't stand being groped anymore, so I chose my side.

They don't touch you at all?

Certainly not, no.

I'm only here to guide their fantasies.

And are there fantasies!

I could never do that.

80 per cent of guys only want to be sodomized.

You tell them a story that justifies it.

I'd rather that than get fucked by seven guys a day.

Delilah, the penetrator!

She's jealous... because she has no gifts.

And she never shares.

What do you think?

That you'll feel my little pussy?

What are you laughing at?

Is that what you want?

Feel my little pussy against your cock?

Lower your eyes when I talk to you.

You obscene wicked boy... aren't you ashamed?

So there's the story of the dunce with...

the sexy teacher... but it works with anything.

The patient, the bad employee, the scoundrel...

It doesn't matter... as long as he's punished.

Get down on the floor.

Then, me, what I like...

is putting myself above them.

That way... they know who's boss...

And then they've only one desire... to look at you...

And suddenly, it gives you one more reason to punish them.

I gave you permission to look at me?!

Apologize right away!

"I'm sorry"?

Pardon?

"I'm sorry, who"?

I'm sorry, mistress. Forgive me, mistress.

Excuse me, mistress.

You weren't taught good manners?

Go get on your knees over there.

You will count the blows with me, until you know your place.

If you lose count, your arse will be so blue...

you'll dare not go home

And the thing is... it's not strength that counts...

It's the intention.

This is always the intention.

So, half an hour of preliminaries...

to get them warmed up... and the second half hour...

You do what they came for... you fuck them up their arse.

I like to give them a choice.

At first they're shy, and then after...

Always lube, condom...

And if they pay extra...

you fasten the thing to your belt, you go in there and it's done.

What is important...

is that they have to wait your permission to enjoy it.

Then you have them smell your pussy or your arse, but not too close.

You make them smell your fingers.

And then and there...

they literally burst.

That's incredible.

It's another profession altogether.

Yeah, honey, it is.

I'm doing theater.

I'm playing a role.

I could never do this as well as you.

Of course you could.

With your cute French accent, there...

I didn't get enough sauce.

Maruan! Herb sauce, please.

Thanks.

Now we're talking...!

I love a lot of sauce.

Hello.

Hungry?

There's risotto left.

No, I'm fine... I've eaten.

I'm tired... I'm going to bed.

Why have you paid the rent again?

I've got a job now... I wanted to pay this month.

Anyway, what does it matter?

I don't care.

I don't want to take advantage of my sister...

who earns a lot by selling her arse.

That was pretty nasty.

I thought you'd have come to terms with it.

It was to last a few weeks. It's been over 6 months!

- I don't see you writing. - Do I have to answer to you?

I just want to know why you're continuing.

Do you like it?

If that were the case, would it be serious?

I carry on because I got attached to that place, to those girls.

I love feeling the power I have over these guys who pay me.

And having money in my pocket reassures me. So!

You're hiding, actually...

Because you're not writing...

or having real relationships with guys.

The perfect excuse...

in Mum's footsteps.

If you're so comfortable, why don't you tell her?

You force me to lie... It's unfair.

If you're really writing this book...

she'll know. Is that a good idea?

Of course!

Emma, praise brothels... I'm not laughing about it.

It's not a wonderful job!

You don't know what I write!

Don't know? You don't write anything!

You've just been making notes for months!

Do you realise your responsibility?

Imagine a kid reading your book...

She imitates you and gets destroyed.

How will you feel afterwards?

It's a story, Madeleine.

It is a testimony.

I praise nothing at all.

I'm talking about this place...

Of my experience...

of my feelings...

of my own desire.

Stop treating me like an idiot.

Come on, let's go out.

Come on, let's go out, I tell you!

At night I leave

I lie when I scream

I write with no regrets

It was the last night

At night in the forest

You can feel the gun.

Suddenly you are reborn

From the last rain

Good morning

Good morning.

I drank too much yesterday I have a headache.

Hold on, I bring you my miraculous remedy.

Hi!

Hi.

How are you?

OK. You?

Yeah.

Here it is. Lemon, honey and ginger.

- You'll see, it's great. - Thank you so much.

- What about me? - Someone is jealous!

Do you have a headache?

- She's jealous. - You don't know that.

- Have you ever met the owner? - No, never.

But you know that she used to be a prostitute.

That's why it's good here.

It's not the same elsewhere, I assure you.

It's true. Here, we feel more free.

That's why we're all rotting here.

What are you here for?

In fact... why did you come to Berlin?

Because I... I had...

a break-up. I needed a change of air.

Love-affairs gone bad, really hurt?

I wouldn't know.

What did you do in Paris?

Stop interrogating her!

She said she had a headache!

It's okay, she asks everybody. I may be interested too!

Yes, but she can be curious and discreet at the same time.

You're so annoying!

You're the annoying one.

That's problem you have, Delilah.

In general and with your clients, you never know when to stop.

Should we compare, what we earn weekly?

Do you want to know what I made, at your age?

Not so loud... I can hear you in the laundry!

- And Brigida, your regular is here. - Again?!

Why do they come so fucking early?

If you'd stop arguing, you'd be ready in time.

You're very annoying, Inge!

Now there's a blow-job before coffee.

Justine, there's a Frenchman waiting who doesn't speak German or English.

I need your help.

But I'm not free.

Well, hurry up! Boy, it's going to be a long day.

- How are you? - Good. You?

You've done it already, haven't you?

Yes. Well... a little... Half-way.

What does "half-way" mean?

Well, that was there...

A long time ago.

What is certain, it's that...

with my fingers, I think I can.

On the other hand, with the rest... I'm not sure.

All right. Well...

You'll see... it's not very complicated.

Come here.

He clears his throat.

First, your fingers. Show me what you can do.

Do what you feel like? What inspires you.

Come on.

All right.

So... With fingers, I think you understood the principle.

So I stop?

You came here to learn how to lick... Right?

Yes.

At some point you have to get started, Herman.

Now?

Get to it!

Here I go...

Herman.

Yes?

The thing is, there's more than just the clitoris. Really.

Really, you can lick anywhere, there's plenty to do...

Even underneath.

"Underneath" includes what?

Whatever.

You don't have to feel you're going too far.

OK.

Let's be honest, Herman...

You're getting bored.

No...

Why? Are you?

It's not really that I'm bored, let's just say that...

I really have the feeling you're doing it all wrong way round.

Well...

Why do you want to learn this?

Because...

I have a girlfriend.

An honourable reason, but insufficient.

You have to enjoy it.

I'm sorry, but...

I don't get the feeling that you really like it.

Herman, look at me...

Does it excite you a little or not?

I'm doing it to give pleasure.

That's the problem. Listen, Herman.

You need to understand one thing about women.

Yes?

If it doesn't arouse you...

it doesn't arouse us either.

It has to get you going.

Otherwise, sorry, but we fall asleep.

Yet, the clitoris...

Yes it's good to know the concept...

But we feel nothing...

when you use the tip of your tongue, so as not to get dirty.

It's like jerking off gently using two fingers.

I understand... Yes, I understand.

Maybe it's easier for you, but a woman must feel your desire.

And your desire, shows through little things.

Like your hand there... which is doing nothing.

You can put it on my stomach.

You have to keep the enthusiasm alive.

That's important.

I'm sure if now I'd do the same to you...

you wouldn't feel that I didn't like it.

Well, I want to, yes.

Come on, lie down.

Oh yes, I think so...

I think I get the idea, yeah.

- You really do not look well. - No. I really feel bad.

Barefoot... go back to bed...

Go back to bed.

- Where can I wash my hands? - Follow me this way.

OK.

A nice case of tonsillitis.

You take two of these right away...

You take antibiotics... yes?

I'll prescribe you some probiotics for your gut.

- Seriously... thank you. - This is for you.

You stay off work for 7 days.

OK.

You really have to rest.

- Yeah. - Yes?

How much do I owe you?

You owe me nothing.

OK.

You're beautiful in your pajamas too, you know.

You stay put here.

I'll find my own way out.

And don't worry...

I'll forget your address.

Bye.

- You look much better. - Yes, I feel better.

There's still some soup left.

- I won't be home that late. - Okay, thank you.

Emma, I don't want to bug you, but call Mum back.

She's worried, knowing you're sick.

Yes, later on. I just have a sore throat.

Is that the guy from Tinder?

Come on, I know you.

Not at all!

We're just having a chat. We don't want to marry.

Yeah, and you don't want to fuck, because that's your job.

He just relieves your boredom this week.

Exactly.

What's he like, this...

Ian.

We love Ian... Show him to me.

Oh yeah!

He looks charming, this Ian.

Stop bugging me! Go! You'll be late.

- Have fun. - Yes, thanks.

Ian?

Emma.

How are you?

I'm fine. How are you?

Also fine.

That's good.

It's raining.

What are we...

Come along.

- Is this a habit of yours? - What?

To bring back girls from a first meeting in the park.

You're jealous? Already?

Careful!

You speak French well.

Not really, I have a lot...

- Wait, it's the park rangers! Go home! - Shit.

No, I know, I know.

Wait...

I'll hold you up.

Come on, come here.

You're so beautiful.

Ridiculous. Romantic, but ridiculous.

My job is... I just woke up

Your tortilla ready, girls.

Oh, my God, yes!

That looks great.

Please, Margaret, Help me with the plates!

Incredible... it smells incredible

With extra onions, to please the gentlemen.

Oh yes, I love it!

Yes, OK... I want the biggest one.

This one for you, honey.

Why do you massage yourself with lemon oil...

if you eat after like a pig? Makes no sense.

Hey! Shush!

Hans loves me, just the way I am.

And the clients love your curves, too.

What curves?

Cherita!

Thank you, it's quite divine.

This is for me, this one is for Inge.

Thank you.

You know, my dear, I'm in age to retirement.

Guess what I would like to do in my life now.

In my dreams.

I want to be a private cooker for the girls.

- It's my dream. - It's a good idea.

I mean it's serious. Think about it.

I'm thinking about it.

The thing with our job is that we don't have a retirement age.

I think it's way less tragic being here, eating tortillas...

than in any other job, tarting yourself, for a shit salary.

That's true.

No, but really...

the only thing a check-out girl has over a sex worker...

is being able to say what she does all day, without blushing.

You're such a bitch, Justine.

I think she's saying out loud, what everybody thinks in silence.

It's true, I spent 2 years of my life, in 2 different "normal" jobs.

Day and evening.

6 day a week... I never saw my daughter.

You're home so tired...

it was the nanny who has to explain me...

what she has done during the day.

And I was there in that apartment, silent as the grave...

with the leftovers for dinner.

It's a fucking sad life.

Was awful.

Tough.

So then I begin to work here.

4 days a week... right, Inge?

With time for my daughter... Let me tell you.

It was a no-brainer.

Yes, but you are lucky, you had the choice.

We always have the choice, Cherita.

It's funny, the other day, I was thinking it's...

weird that we don't know our names.

You never will.

It's like a reminder that this is not real life.

What?!

Sorry, but it is.

I mean to me, this is real life.

Since Hans had his accident...

my hospital shifts were not enough to live on, so...

It's hard to get more real than that.

Lorna tries to say that we are different people when we're here.

Maybe it's a parallel world.

Thank you.

And actually, I wonder if we just...

don't show our true selves.

What do you mean... you're a real psychopath?!

Better not...

Anyway, this tortilla is real.

Let me tell you...

Why would you want to know our names, Justine?

Because she's a detective.

Names are important to you?

- Yeah. - Cute.

You know what's important to me?

Beautiful nails.

I look at those when I'm fucking.

The arseholes are going to have to get a bunch of money...

So weird to see a woman in the men's room.

She's beautiful, you know.

She's so elegant.

The woman is for you, Justine.

Mirror room... 1 hour, normal rate

I'm not a lesbian, you know.

I'm not a lesbian either.

I was in Berlin for work...

I just wanted to try it.

I thought it would be like... I don't know...

A bubble?

A bubble is nice.

I want to kiss you.

May I?

It's 20 euros extra.

Alright.

I took over this bar, it's been less than a year.

It's brand new.

That's really cool.

Thanks.

And you?

What do you do for a living?

So, the fateful question.

Really?

At this point?

I'm a writer.

I've already published two novels, and I'm writing my third.

What? Really?

But that's great, well done!

And to write this third book, I've become a whore in a brothel.

Really?

I'm sorry. No not sorry... I'm...

I'm lost for words... it's...

It's crazy, right?

I don't know...

I don't think so... But what would I know?

OK.

No, some days... everything seems obvious to me.

I feel like I belong.

I feel proud...

Good.

Seriously?

Yes.

I think the girls are great.

I could listen to them tell their stories all the time.

Watch them do it.

And it'll sound weird to you...

but I feel like I'm being paid to write my book.

That's...

I've shocked you?

You want me to leave? I'm going to leave.

No! No not at all...

I'm just surprised.

I understand.

Ian! Can you come, please?

Yes.

I'll be back.

Don't go.

Please don't go. Above all, don't go.

Yes?

When we were together in the park...

I had the impression that you really liked it.

I did really like it.

Very much.

That's why I'm being honest with you.

I don't exactly know how could I satisfy you.

On the contrary, Ian.

On the contrary.

In the brothel, everything is mechanical.

It's something completely different, when you do it with someone...

who doesn't pay you... who you desire...

who you really want.

I'd even forgotten how good it could be.

I believe there is true grace in being a whore.

I give pleasure to others.

I do good.

But I don't get any back.

And when I get home, I am empty.

You understand?

Or do you think I'm completely crazy?

As for me, I want to be good for you.

Yours.

Every brothel has its own rules.

Hey.

Hey.

I'm warning you...

I don't trust you.

Not one bit.

I know this isn't your life here. I see it.

You watch us, you ask questions...

And nobody knows nothing about you.

The other girls here have nothing to lose, but not me.

I saw the notebooks in your locker.

Yeah... I don't know what you are.

Fucking journalist... whatever.

Just be very careful what you do.

Why are you crying?

Delilah

What's the matter, Delilah?

Don't touch me!

What happened? Are you OK?

Calm down... What did he do to you?

Delilah...

Where the fuck is Inge?

I've no idea.

Look, see who it is... her latest client. Go ahead.

- The doc. - The doc?!

If you do that, then you will be banned!

Do you understand me?

- Yes? - I'm sorry.

No! Go now!

Arsehole!

Please be respectful and go now!

These guys make me sick!

Inge...

Don't say anything.

Here they understood something we don't care about in France.

But just because a guy goes to whores...

doesn't mean that they won't abuse little girls.

You don't know that.

But neither do you.

Are you making progress?

Thanks.

A little.

It's still confused.

I have 100 pages of notes. I have to work on it.

I've met someone.

I think I'm falling in love.

Maybe it's time to get married, to start a family?

You're so dumb.

You know what they say here?

"When a man gets married, a whore is born."

They're rough, these Germans.

I've never felt dirty, you know.

Yes, I know.

The problem comes from other people.

From the shitty pity that the world has for whores.

Why can't a woman be able to do this job by choice?

Yes.

I'm not saying that prostitution for most whores is not a nightmare.

But it's also important to accept those who chose to do it.

If I go home to the country, we should stop seeing each other.

Yes I know.

My mother has always done it that way.

It's like a fucking childhood trauma, damn it!

- I see the trauma. - Yes?

Thank you, that's nice of you.

Use a bit less water. It's impossible to cook like that.

Otherwise, it's very nice.

Keep on going.

Thank you.

She hasn't recognised my Giacometti.

Nor understood the artist in you.

Exactly! Missed seeing the artist.

Emma, you got something...

No, lower down there. Wait, come over here.

You're impossible... Stop it!

I'm sorry... I destroyed your childhood trauma.

This is your future.

Ian, this is brutal.

Sorry, take my Giacometti, if you want.

- I'm so proud of myself. - I am, too.

It's not all that bad.

I'm hungry.

Me too.

You know, the restaurant which we passed.

- With the soup? - Yes, that's right.

Sure... we can even drink soup from the cups.

You OK?

I lost you there.

It's alright.

What is it?

Nothing. I thought I saw someone, but it's nothing.

You know, honey, you gonna have to get used to it.

Many girls quit.

Happens all the time.

You know, one guy...

a long-time client...

After he came, he always put the condom in his pocket.

Somebody had told him that there were hookers...

who injected client's sperm to get pregnant and blackmail them up.

- You're not serious. - Swear to God.

- And he never told you anything? - No.

That's one of the thing that drive me crazy about that work.

We could break that shitty men in going like this.

But we don't...

because they have the money.

That pretty much nails it.

Justine, your appointment is here.

Tropical Room.

See you later.

Hello.

Justine?

Yes?

You look so young.

How old are you?

You look like you're barely... barely eighteen.

Maybe younger.

Yes.

Maybe I'm not, just yet.

No, leave it on.

It's a beautiful outfit.

I like young girls.

Feel what effect you have on me?

No...

Blow me.

I need a condom.

- None. - No, I don't do that.

You want to run away?

You little whore... Try!

Wait...

I'm not running...

Let me get a condom.

Let go of me!

No!

I know I'm sick. I know.

No! No! Let go of me!

Shut up!

Shut up!

Tell me you're 16.

Tell me you're 16.

I'm 16.

I'm 15.

I'm 14.

I'm 13

I'm 12.

I'm 11.

I'm 11.

Leave me!

Hey!

Hey.

Ooh la la!

I tried to prepare you a veal stew.

Goodness!

I've been at it for over 2 hours...

It's complicated.

French cuisine is complicated.

How are you?

Yes I'm fine. I'm a little tired.

It smells good.

Glass of wine?

I'll take a shower first.

Your sister left a message.

She's sleeping at Lena's tonight.

OK.

Emma...

I'm doing my best.

But...

You'd understand that this situation is not easy for me.

I do understand.

It's not simple for me either.

What does it mean?

It means that...

I'm just not a good lover.

Even without this job, even if I quit...

Ian, I'm not careful...

faithful, devoted... what you'd expect from a lover.

I'm a pretty weird girl, you know.

I think I got that.

Hello Mum.

I just wanted to hear your voice.

No, things aren't good.

There's something I need to talk to you about.

No day, no hour goes by...

working on this book...

without me realising that I was on the bad side of this story.

Ideally, I should have been a man.

I would have been the king of clients.

If only I could spend one night... a very long night...

having my brain in the body of a young man...

Not too young, or too handsome.

That's not the way that whores are stirred.

I would have a thumping heart, and maybe the hard-on too.

In the elevator leading to the brothel, it smells like a red carpet.

An odor that's childish, maternal and lewd...

of a well-groomed girl secretly smoking in the laundry-room.

Good evening.

Please take a seat. I'll call the ladies for you.

As I came in, I'd sense them all hidden behind the curtain...

waiting to see what the newcomer looked like.

I would sit opposite...

so that the girls can see me, before introducing themselves.

Who would come first? Bridget?

"Hello, handsome."

With her determined voice, her classical iconic face...

and the high-heels she can slip on and off...

Dorothee... Her smile full of vice...

and the look of a girl not there to be cuddled.

Lorna, with her bust, that resembles a virgin of Murillo?

Adorable in front, maddening behind...

when she goes back out showing her majestic arse.

Hildie...

the queen of whores...

with her carnivorous pout...

that leaves no room for doubt...

inventing tender nicknames for each client.

Margaret...

1.8 metres of dark golden skin...

and her scent of jasmine.

All of them...

Send them all to me.

She would be lying on the bed...

Never mind how her pussy looked.

She would display it...

as a woman who's forgotten how much God is in the details.

How much it's still a gift, despite the money.

I would gently touch the thin skin around her sleeping clitoris.

I would study every fold, every vein...

wondering which one really leads to her brain.

I would slowly caress every pearly stretch mark...

each small feature of this body-altar...

onto which so many men, every day, pour out...

their frustrations, joys and sorrows...

to this indifferent goddess.

Quitting the brothel...

do we lose this acute consciousness of being a woman?

How does she separate this part of her life from the rest?

When you've worked at a brothel, you can't undo it.

Others needn't know.

It's not written on a girl's forehead.

But we know it.

I thought I would write about men. I only write about women.

About this nest of women and girls, of mothers and wives...

who make and unmake with their delicate fingers...

the illusory notion of the sacred.

I want to talk about them, because they exist...

and they leave in this empty boat...

the maddening smell of a thousand different loves...

of tenderness sought and found, each in its own way.

There's no nobility in it, but poignant truths...

that we don't find anywhere else...

And it's necessary for someone to talk about it.

A stupid idea, I told you...

Or maybe not.