It's annoying, but bearable, the way people look at her when she goes about in public. Most people haven't visited her website, she knows, but she can tell which ones have, but aren't clients. They're the ones that give her the looks.
Some of them are bold. Those ones purposely bump into her and cause her to spill whatever she's carrying. She simply bends to pick them up, brushing it off like she always does. She knows what they assume about her, though none of them are brave enough to approach her and call her it to her face.
Sometimes, to cope, she imagines them in scenarios where she's in control, in her dominion. And for a while, that helps. Even makes her smile.
That puzzles them, when she smiles at them, and she finds she likes watching them squirm. So she smiles at them pleasantly when they pass her their looks of disgust.
She knows what they think of her.
She really could care less.
It isn't until one of them actually approaches her that she actually cares.
"You're a filthy slut, Miss Adler," a woman spits at her.
And as if that woman had triggered something, they all became bolder.
"Slut."
"Whore."
"Pervert."
"Freak."
The last one almost made her laugh. That was what some people called Sherlock.
It takes about three days for her to crack and retaliate to one of them.
"You should be ashamed, Miss Adler," this man had the same disgusted tone the woman had. "You should be hiding your face, you freakish whore."
"Pardon me, Sir," she says shortly. "But I think you need to check your facts." Her tone is cool, but clipped.
"I'm a dominatrix, yes. But that doesn't mean I go about having sex with all of my clients." She suppresses a smile when the man blushes at her rather loud use of the word sex. "Dominating someone isn't about that. Some people need to feel that submission, and that is why they come to me. I turn down the ones who come looking for a quick fuck. And the ones that ask to fuck me or have me or whatever delicate words you might use aren't usually granted what they ask for. I sell my work. Not my body."
By this time, the man's face is entirely red, and he seems rooted to the spot.
She smiles, and it's sweet and wicked at the same time. "Next time, I suggest you check your facts," she almost coos at the dumbstruck man.
Then, without another word, her heels are clicking sharply on the pavement as she walks away towards her private car.