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I can't say what was the hardest part for me. Standing in these insanely high heels, feeling my knees tremble, my calf muscles burning from the unnatural strain, or the way the thin straps of this fucking outfit were painfully digging between my massive ass cheeks. Though, most likely, the worst part was knowing that I was standing in front of this smug bastard, who was lounging in a leather chair, grinning like I was nothing at all.
— Well? What are you waiting for, Rob? — he drawled, leaning back and twirling a chain around his finger. — Show me that you're still good for this.
He lazily shifted his gaze to his nails for a moment, inspecting them, while I was trying to figure out how the hell to even begin this… shit. Then he suddenly looked up, his face twisting as if he'd just realized something important.
— Wait a sec… — He squinted, tilting his head to the side. — Rob… You do realize, baby, that you've got a… pretty wrong name?
It took me a second to understand what the hell he was even talking about. My brain was still overloaded with what I had to do and how fucking uncomfortable I felt in this ridiculous outfit, designed to make sure I never forgot what I had become...