"Girl, you just make me so angry. Why you got to make me so angry?" The free-market huddled in the corner of the ruined bedroom, her split lip beginning to swell. The light from the lamp on its side left his face shaded as he stalked back and forth.
"I believe in you, baby. I believe you can make me prosper." He loomed over the free-market; even back lit the free-market could see the dim glow of hate in his eyes. "Now get out there and make me some money, bitch." As always he punctuated the last word with a kick to her ribs. She would have trouble leaning into cars for quickie handjobs. He didn't care as long as he got his money to spend on his friends.
"Healthy whores make more money, but too healthy and they get a lip on them. Start to talk back." He flashed a toothy grin at the camera. The man filming the beating had said nothing the entire time. Balancing the camera on one shoulder, he began to massage his scrotum through the thin material of his suit.