Jenkins said calmly, "Answer when you're spoken to, slave." Um, uh, yes." I replied, then, as I saw his arm draw back, "Sir!"Mary, Mother of God! What...I walked into? I had no one to blame but myself, but oh boy, did I blame myself! Tears fell down my cheeks as I rubbed the fading streak that was now little more than a dull ache.Then I realized what he'd called me: 'slave'! Oh my god! I should have gone home and taken that job with a rich arab! It couldn't be any worse than this, could it?Mr.. The bra was one shecalled a Pushemup, and it did just that. I secured the front clasp andsaw that the skin on my chest had been pulled into the cups of thebra, making it seem as if I had boobs, and of course the hard shell ofthe cups maintained the shape! Then a short white slip went over myhead and was adjusted. Next came the dress. Mom pulled it out of thebag and I saw it for the first time. It was a pale pink sheath dress,sleeveless and looked really short. Without a word she slipped it. More

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