"Yes, yes." He sounded irritated at having to admit her, though she was right that it was better she did knock. Hell, maybe he was only irritated he didn't have that to use against her? She shuffled back into the same, familiar room and looked upon the same, familiar man sat there in his chair. He was leaning back and rubbing at his forehead, looking particularly irritable. It had been a tough day, and business had taken a turn for the worse... It was fortunate, really, he had something new to take it out on.<br/><br/>His fingers clicked harshly and filled the room with the sudden noise, before he pointed firmly at the floor before him demandingly. There was even more reason than usual to obey; he looked ready to beat something half to death given even half an excuse. For the moment she obliged; trotting over and dropping to her knees before him. She even fell into the correct posture, part because she thought she should and part - to her horror - because she'd gotten used to it.<br/><br/>"Lean back, fucking useless bitch, and let's see who you had." She didn't get much choice in the matter; his hand caught her forehead and pushed it back harshly, making her fall as much as she could without quite losing her balance. His fingers ran over the black marks. Some were names, some were simply signs from those that couldn't write, but he recognised them all... He took note of who, and more importantly counted: ".. Nineteen... Twenty... Twenty one?" He clicked his tongue, then nodded. It was hard even for him to fault her with a number like that...<br/><br/>"Who was the best?" He asked, oddly casually. "And the worst? And, more importantly yet, are you any fucking good yet? I've no use for a slut that can't take a cock into her throat and make it feel like it's in fucking paradise."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>