Sometimes... when she lay in bed next to him at night she really did believe she hated him.
Trixie had been with Stingy for as long as she could remember. It was an innocent crush when they were kids. Charming, really, a strange romantic alteration of the prince and the popper. Trixie couldn't help liking his stubborn attitude, and his cute way of sticking up his nose. She liked to threaten his self-proclaimed authority. It was a challenge that she was all too willing to take. She didn't know that it would end up like this. That she would just be another conquest for Stingy... another piece of property that he could lay his claim upon.
At first, she didn't mind it. They were already so set in their ways. The two of them only acting like lovers under the shadows, and in the daylight they threatened eachother's power. It was exhilarating. It was sexually seductive to lie so smoothly with twisting tounges and fabricated stories. It was sexually destructive. It was what they did best. This way she would never have to tell him that she loved him, and he would never pin her down by telling her that he loved her. Trixie would be trapped if he said so. She would be his forever. She would truly be owned by him.
But now there wasn't that spark. It was a routine of domination and submission. Of secrets and lies so perfectly constructed that the truth was often hard to recognize. Trixie was getting bored. She stayed for the perks, though. She stayed because being his pet had it's luxuries. She stayed because he had money. Trixie felt like a two dollar whore at a discount store.
He gave her security. She accepted the fact that she needed that security to make it through.
But in the darkness when he was sleeping away... Trixie dropped her act and scowled. She looked at him, hovered over him, and imagined choking him to death. She imagined stealing his confidence and every dollar to his name. She imagined proving that in the end there was no one who could own her. There was no one who could tame her.
A two dollar whore will always be a two dollar whore.
Even if they wore expensive clothes.
Trixie slid out of bed, and carried herself to the large, spotless bathroom to wash her sins away. She closed her eyes, sliding her fingers through her waist-length black hair as the hot water masked her flesh.
She was a pretty girl, now. Her reflection was flattering. A tight body, tanned skin, exotic asian features, and women's curves making her as attention-grabbing as Stephanie Meanswell. A sigh slipping from her full lips at the name which had crossed her thoughts. It had been such a long time since she'd had a proper conversation with the pink haired girl from her past. Or anyone, really. Stingy controlled her life now. He had managed to focus all of her attention on him and what he wanted. "I haven't even touched my skateboard in ages..." Trixie whispered, as she shut off the shower.
With a smile, Trixie dressed and snuck out of the mansion with a worn, dusty skateboard under her arm.