Carrie was equally unaware that the avatar her customer saw of herself was much more detailed. Carrie saw the clothes, the design and detail in them, the workmanship in the boots, the frills on the clothing, but where there were designer labels, all she saw was a blur, as if someone was censoring her vision in real time. Chances are, someone was. Carrie remembered the first time she had found herself in this particular avatar. At first, she had liked it, until she had realised what a cruel sadistic bitch the customer was. She wondered if she was a virgin this time? She had no opportunity to check, as her head was yanked upwards by the collar.<br/><br/>The question about her sleeping well was rhetorical, she knew. In fact, since she had started working here, Carrie had slept better and longer than she ever had, not even in the orphanage - one never knew when some upper would come down for some Gutter Action, and some of them were not too picky about the legality of the action they took... But Carrie was paying rent, for the first time in her life, she had money and she was suddenly a lot more aware of the value of things. And she was, for the first time in her life, able to rest easy, knowing that her door was locked and only someone really determined to get in could do so. As there was nothing there worth taking (except possibly herself), she saw no reason for anyone to break in and thus was able to sleep.<br/><br/>Her head was jerked up, and she gazed into the eyes again.<i>Boys? A terrible night? Oh shit!</i>She opened her mouth to answer, but the woman went on talking.<i>Three whole sessions? Oh fuck!</i>The last time The Bitch had taken all three of her sessions, one after the other, Carrie had passed out three times towards the end, only to be instantly revived by the coffin and dumped back into the avatar. That had been over a week ago, and Carrie had been praying that it would never be repeated. Clearly the goddess to whom she prayed either did not exist or didn't give a fuck. Either way her prayers were totally worthless. Maybe there was one goddess to whom she could pray?<br/><br/>"Please, please, my Goddess, Please have mercy on your poor humble servant?" It was worth a try, wasn't it? Something, anything, to give Carrie the same experience that some of the other girls and boys got, on rare occasions. No walk in the park, by any means (although one boy had apparently been given just that, before being jumped on and raped), but at least normal sex, something more pleasant than what normally happened to her. For Carrie, being the favourite of The Bitch (although how that worked when the customer had no idea there was a human behind the avatar), she was always selected to run The Bitch's doll. Even when there were other girls available. She had asked and was told that if they changed the controller too often the doll would behave inconsistently and the customer might get wise. But even on those days when The Bitch could only do two, or even just one session, it seemed that the people who assigned Doll Controllers (to use her official job title) to customers,  had it in for her, because she invariably got the nasty ones, the cruel ones, the ones that sent her back to her own body with the feeling of a knife being drawn across her throat or her blood being sucked out through the fangs in her neck... Among others.<br/><br/>None of them, though, were as bad as The Bitch. The burning eyes gazed hotly into her own green ones that she knew glowed softly, because she had seen her face in mirrors, streams, and the steel of a knife blade. Terror clenched her gut, as ever, wondering what the woman would do to her this time.