“Marcy, please.”
“You’d better learn something right now. You owe me, and this is only the beginning of how I will collect. If you don’t do as you’re told, you’ll pay dearly. Promise! Now get dressed,” she said, as she handed me a short, white crop top and a pair of pink shorts. The skimpy top barely covered my braless look exposing my belly. My new, larger breasts stuck out like lighthouses on the shore. The shorts hung low on my hips. They were the latest in teen fashion. You know the ones, very short, tight and low cut. Across the butt, large letters proclaimed my status. “SLAVE”.
“You don’t really expect me to wear this out in public, do you?”
“Do you have a choice? You should be relieved that you aren’t wearing a collar and leash. I like those, remember? Now, we’ll put your hair up
