she could see his disgusting, old, decrepit, skin peeling looking body so vividly in her mind. imagining him as the punching bag in front of her, sabrina grunted as she threw several powerful punches in a flurry. each swing only bruised the disgusting client in her head and that wasn't enough - he needed to bleed. a knee to the gut. a kick to the groin. a slam of her heel against his face. it's what he deserved for getting on her ing nerves and for wasting her time last night. and not leaving a good tip for tolerating his presence. she couldn't sleep once he left, due to her entire body shaking in rage the rest of the night. so she booked it to the gym as soon as she could in the morning, before any of her clients were to come in.
maybe she was in such a rush this morning that she forgot to wear a pair of gloves, or maybe she didn't care, but after repeatedly swinging on the punching bag without hand coverings, her knuckles were turning a bright and nasty shade of red. with each following punch, a red print was left on the bag's surface. finally, sabrina took a step back to catch her breath and looked down at her knuckles. blood was running down the back of her hands, along her forearms. ", this !," she screamed, kicking the bag in frustration.
