Daphne

(17) Personal Liberation and the Alternate Universe

They arrived just as Leo excused himself.

"Nancy, this place is incredible in both good and bad senses. We only heard about the Friday night 'sex' show, but the girls here are practically tortured all day Saturday ... Daphne? Were you?...?..."

"Was I... locked in stocks and my butt paddled purple? Or hung from my wrists with my legs spread and whipped everywhere – everywhere? Or hung upside down, with lit candles in both my holes, like a human candelabra? Or shocked all over my body with a cattle prod? Yup. For about sixteen hours, on most Saturdays, for about three and a half years..."

Mrs. Flynn was dumbfounded. "Why did you let them abuse you like that?"

Translation: Don't you have any self-respect at all, you stupid slut?

Daphne read Mrs. Flynn's face and thought for a moment...

She had no trouble reading Nancy; she'd seen the older woman's type before and looked her dead in the eyes. "I know what you're thinking." Her voice was cold. "You think I did it because I am a cheap, stupid whore who hasn't got an ounce of self-respect."

Nancy was starting to get accustomed to Daphne's blunt, direct language. Not to mention the girl reading her mind.

"It's true. I did it for the money. The money that paid off my freshman-year's student loans before I even finished my sophomore year. The money that paid for all my room, board, utilities, food, and tuition – with enough left over to enjoy a little college social life. The money that paid for my independence while I was in school, and allowed me to accumulate a decent grub-stake and a diverse investment portfolio by the time I graduated. So you're right: I'm a whore. But I'm not cheap."

"And I'm not stupid either: Times have changed since you went to school. All of my friends graduated college buried in debt. I was on the same road to decades of debt until I tried this... just once. It was scary and humiliating. Then I took a cold, hard look at my options and it was an easy choice. I decided to let people play with my body for a couple days a week for a few short years and I came out of it a free, independent woman; they finished school worse than flat broke, buried under a mountain of debt and compelled to accept the first gig that was offered at the lowest salary their prospective employers thought they could get away with. There is no negotiation to speak of: Take our table-scraps or get lost and starve. My alums accept these 'generous offers' immediately 'cuz they're afraid that if they don't the next warm body through the door will. They are thoroughly replaceable cogs, compelled to eat whatever shit their irrational egoistical Little Napoleon bosses dish out, fearful of losing their meager salaries, getting tossed-out and dumped on the street like trash – and being replaced before their butts hit the pavement. Their 'respectable' employers actually value them less than 'sleazy' Leo over there values us. Think about how messed-up that is for a minute!

"My former classmates sell their dignity and self-respect for money all day, every day; the poor suckers play the game according to your 'respectable' rules and now have decades of servitude and abuse to look forward to! Ma'am, you may think me a slut, but I paid the price to be a liberated whore, free to choose when, where, with whom, and for what price I sell my services, rather than a slave, forever cowering in fear at the whim of some tyrannical slave-master. You may not respect me because of what I did to purchase my freedom, but you wouldn't respect me anyway since there is no such thing as being a respectable slave."

Daphne caught her breath, and a moment later looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry... to both of you. It's just that this is a real touchy point for me... I didn't necessarily mean your company, sir."