Her black hair sparkled as she gathered it with her hands; her skin shone like polished wood. Pamela maneuvered so her face was close to the girl."Why...won't you tell?" she asked. The brown eyes focused."No need," the girl said. "Angique gave me to you for pleasure, not for the story of my life — or what used to be my life." She turned and dragged the pink bed to the shore. The wet hair slithered down her back like a fat, black snake."So you must pleasure me?"Lunch had been delicious. The girl. I liked the way they looked, like a flash ofmetal across your skin. Hey, Molly liked sex, too. She wasn't going toleave me in prison.Was she?Mrs. Adams looked at me and laughed. "Boo, girl," she said. "I can'tbelieve how fast you've adapted to the sissy lifestyle. Two more days,and you'll be blowing clients in the parking lot. So I have aproposition for you. We need some help cleaning up. Making the girls'beds, doing their laundry, that sort of stuff. So why don't we hire youas a maid?" Excuse. More

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