martini and lined up another hit of coke.
“You sure?” she said to the girl.
“No thanks.” She lifted her notepad. “Gotta focus.”
“Sorry, what’s your name again?” Daphne asked, wiping at her nose as she returned to her chaise-lounge. The girl had told her when she first showed up for the interview, but she’d immediately forgotten. Names were so meaningless in her world because most of them were fake. The name she was using right now, for instance.
“Jack,” she replied. “Jacqueline just didn’t suit me,” she offered with a small smile.
“Cute.”
The girl was a bit odd but sweet. And remarkably easy to talk to.
“How many other woman are you interviewing?”
“Twenty in total,” Jack smiled proudly. “From a range of areas. Speaking of which, you mentioned you mainly do BDSM. Any reason why?”
“I mean, not exclusively dominatrix, I do have some regular clients who want pretty ordinary sex. But once you get into this area and you’re good at it, you find yourself with a specialized client list. They pay well and they keep me busy enough. And I do enjoy it, the theatrics of it all.” She smiled.
“So you dress up and order them around and whip them a little?”
Daphne laughed. “Depends on the client. The kinks people have are endless.”
“Anything you don’t do?”
“Oh, loads. You wouldn’t believe what some people want.”
‘Like?”
“One guy wanted me to crap in his mouth.”
Jack’s eyes went wide. “He didn’t.”
Daphne nodded. “He did. Gross, right?” She laughed. “I mean I’m not judgmental, but there are definitely lines I draw.”
“And that’s… sexy to them?”
Daphne tilted her head. “It’s not about sex, in the traditional sense. It’s about what’s taboo. Breaking rules, pushing boundaries. In some cases degrading themselves because that’s become attached to a sexual thrill somehow.”
Daphne’s phone beeped.
“Is that a client?” Jack asked quickly.
She glanced at the display. “Yes. I don’t normally do last minute ones, especially after I’ve had a few drinks, but he’ll pay extra. He’s only in town for two nights and he wants to make both nights count.”
She glanced at Jack’s bright, eager eyes. Suddenly, recklessly, she wanted to impress this girl. To show her something she’d remember for a while. To give her something real and juicy for her essay.
“Do you want to watch?”
Jack’s eyes bugged open. “Can I?” she whispered.
This was terribly unprofessional, but she couldn’t help herself. This felt like the first real conversation she’d had in months. The first time someone had listened to her, really listened. The girls she worked with, her ‘friends’, were all narcissists. All they wanted to talk about was themselves. Car, boyfriend, money, hair, nails, clients, blah, blah. But what about me, Daphne wanted to shout at them sometimes. She wanted to shake their tanned shoulders until their earrings jangled loudly and they finally asked her a personal question. And now here was Jack, with her flattering curiosity and rapt attention.
Daphne tossed one hand. “Why not?”
“How, though?” Jack asked.
Daphne thought about this for a moment. “I could videocall you when he arrives and leave it running. Hidden, obviously.”
“Oh my god, yes please.” Jack nodded enthusiastically, her hair swishing around her shoulders as her head bobbed up and down.
“You couldn’t include any of it in your essay, of course. Just in case. It’d just be for your information. So you can get a sense of what it’s like.”
“That’s okay. Thank you.”
“I’ll set up our date and let you know when it is. You be ready for my call, okay? I don’t have to tell you that this is all strictly confidential, do I?”
“Of course not. Your secret is safe with me.”