I glanced down at the outfit Jenkins provided, insecurity threatening to devour me. It came as no surprise that I was unattractive, but his reaction only added to the heaviness of the weight I bore because of it.
I was in a matching red bra and panties set with lace enveloping what little breasts I had to push them up. A silk robe was tied around my waist, which was meant to be enticing for my master to want to unravel.
Keeping my head bowed, I said, “I am wearing what Jenkins laid out for me, Master.”
“Don,” he corrected.
Right.
Don.
A nickname that felt both intimate and a title of respect. Since I had arrived at the orphanage, I was instructed that calling an owner anything but master was practically treason.
“Don,” I repeated. “I’m sorry for the mistake. I…didn’t know I was su
