Ivy swallowed hard and bit her lip, trying to contain her disgust. "Your favorite red nightie that you bought me," she said bitterly. "The one you made me wear at my interview." She had him on speakerphone as she lay in bed, holding a brand new razor to the light. It shone to her in almost a beautiful sort of way.
Ahh yes, and what a great interview it was. Tell me what happened again.
She slowly nicked little cuts all down her leg, memorized by the contact of the cold blade. "You forced me on my knees and told me you needed to 'test the water,'" she spat. "That you needed to make sure you were hiring a good one."
I know what I did, bitch. I wanna hear the good stuff. What you did. And don't forget the details.
Ivy took a deep breath, humiliated just at the thought. "I took you in my mouth, and forced your entire length down my throat. Then I sucked you fucking dry." She put the razor to her forearm and pushed down.
Mmmm, and then?
She gulped and slit deep across her arm, watching the blood instantly pour out. "Then you wanted more. Said I was too good. You lay me down on your bed, ripped my panties off, and pounded into my sweet little pussy."
Uhhh... yess Ivy...
She groaned inwardly and stared at the pouring blood to distract herself, disgusted at his use of her real name and the sounds of his loud, overdrawn orgasm. At least she got it over with quickly.
"My name is Candy," she snapped, picking up the gauze that she had already measured out beforehand.
To my clients it is, but I fucking own you darling. I can call you whatever the hell I want. You know I hate that stupid name anyways. Such a common cliche for someone so special... I thought you'd come up with something unique.
"I'm not using my real name," she said in a stubborn tone as she bound her cut.
We'll talk about it later sweet thing. I expect to see you an hour before your shift starts, I want some more from you.
Ivy shuddered as the phone clicked off. She hated him with her entire heart and soul. Someday she would leave. Someday.