I like to pretend I’m his special girl.
Pulling on the sheer black hold ups, hooking garters to the tops, snapping on the black bra that shows the hard poke of my nipples, I think of his smile and the wicked gleam in his sharp eyes. He’ll unzip the tight blue dress I’m zipping up just after he palms my naked cunt.
It’s the words he’ll whisper that I most long for. He’ll call me his beauty, his lovely darling, His. Those words will steal my breath faster than any kiss he’d give me, making me weak as he holds my gaze. I’d let him take everything just to hear that he loved me, wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I spray the perfume he loves on my throat and wrists, breathing deeply the intoxicating smell as I imagine him burying his nose in my neck.
The mirror reflects back the eagerness I can’t help feeling. It flushes my cheeks and the pillowy mounds of my breasts spilling out of my dress. It brightens my eyes better than the purple shadow I apply. It gives me a glow of excitement that appears in my smile.
I straighten my back, thrusting my breasts out the way he loves.
A knock at the front door sends a rush of giddiness through me, and as I give myself one last look I feel it dampen my thighs. I’m slick and ready for him.
A breeze of cold air rushes in as I greet him with a smile on my plump lips. He’s as handsome as ever, his eyes moving over my body with a hint of possessiveness I like. I admire the way his dress shirt stretches over his broad shoulders and the dark denim of his jeans wraps like a lover around his muscular thighs. His hair falls across his brow, catching in his long lashes, and my fingertips itch to smooth the lock behind his ear.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I watch his eyes skim my body one more time. I pray he likes what he sees.
“Who the hell told you to wear that?”
I shiver at the chill in his voice and take an involuntary step back. My throat dries as I meet his eyes, desperate to find a response that eases the cold in his steady gaze. “I just thought –”
The downward slice of his hand cuts off my words. He advances on me and I retreat until my back hits with a thump against the far wall. Fear makes my stomach clench as his hand closes around my neck, tilting my head up and halting my breath in my chest.
“You don’t get paid to think. You get paid to wear what I tell you to wear, behave how I tell you to behave, and spread your legs for whoever I tell you to. You don’t think ever.”
I’m shaking, gasping, and clenching at his fist. Tears drip from my eyes at the cruelty I read in his.
“You’re just some stupid whore here to make me money. Nothing more.” He stares at me long and hard before a mocking smile spreads across his face. “Go fix your face and be outside in ten minutes.” He pushes away and walks back out the door without a second glance.
The trembling intensifies as I fight to regain my breath. My throat aches as I try to swallow back my sobs. It takes everything I have to move away from the wall holding me up and I stumble back to the bedroom. The tremors refuse to leave me even as I reapply my make up. Knowing he’s waiting like a sentinel for me is the only thing keeping me from collapsing in a fit of tears.
I don’t want to look at my reflection, but my eyes meet the ones in the mirror anyway. What I see fills me with pity and shame. This woman looks nothing like the one I glimpsed before.
This one knows there’s no space in her reality for pretend.