[Alyssa]
I slowly slide off the edge of the fancy bed in the luxurious hotel room, standing up. My legs are sore, making it very painful to take the required steps across the room to the bathroom.
Once in the bathroom, I close and lock the door and lean my naked body against the door. I slide down until my knees and chest are connected before wrapping my arms around my knees, tears silently falling down my face. The events from the previous night sneak into my head, making me feel dirtier than ever before.
I stand up and walk to the shower, turning it to the hottest setting possible before stepping in, wincing as I lift my leg to step in, a painful reminder of the night before. The water burns my skin, but I don't change it; in fact, I want it to burn my skin.
I grab a nearby wash cloth and bar of soap and begin scrubbing at my skin, trying as hard as I can to clean all of the filth off of me. When I get to where the soreness is, however, I scrub as gently as possible, but it still hurts. More tears fall from my honey-brown, black rimmed eyes as I continue to scrub my body, hoping and praying that one day, my life will change.
I let a sob escape my chest as I come to grips with reality: my life will never change. A knock on the door startles me, and I hope for the worst.
"Aye, hurry up in there! You still got mo' money to make!" his voice shouts. Another sob escapes my chest as I continue to scrub at my body. "You better be out by time I count to five, or else I'ma bust this door down and beat yo ass! One..." I hurriedly wipe my eyes and turn the water off before I step out, grabbing a white robe hanging up. I put it around me, tying it. "Two..."
I walk over to the door, wincing as I try to hurry before he gets to five. I unlock the door and open it, only to be welcomed by the back of his hand.
"If you don't pay for no muthafuckin' room, yo ass better not lock shit. You hear me!?"
"Y-Y-Yes, Daddy," I manage to say, as a sob and another wave of tears flow down my face. He turns and walks to the bed, getting something before throwing it at me. I wipe my tears again, knowing how angry it makes him when we cry.
"Change into this and meet me in the hallway," he demands. He reaches into his pocket, and my heart freezes. He pulls his hand back out, a nice, crisp fifty dollar bill in it. "Your customer was pleased with whatever the fuck you did last night and decided to pay a little extra." He holds the bill out to me, and I sheepishly walk over and take it from him. "I don't know what niggas find appealing about you, but whatever it is, keep that shit up."
"Yes, Daddy," I say, as he turns and walks away. I change into the clothes that he threw at me. Once I'm dressed, I walk to the room door and take a look back. The bed is still a mess from last night.
Before, this was just another fancy hotel, but now, this will forever be the fancy hotel in Hell. I should be used to fancy hotels, especially working for him.
All of his clients have big names, and they pay really good money for us. If it isn't easy to figure out what I do, I'm a prostitute. Well, not really a prostitute, more like a stripper/sex slave. That's what some people call it.
The door swinging back and almost hitting me in the face pulls me from my thoughts. He doesn't look too happy with me. I hold my head down in shame, but that only manages to piss him off even more.
"Do you like it when I hit you??" he growls through gritted teeth as he grabs a tight hold of my chin and forces me to look up at him. His fingers are pushing my jaws into my teeth, causing me an immense amount of pain, but somehow through the pain, I manage to say:
