His eyes drifted down the line of my ear, my falling golden hair, and neck, my shoulder, down to the swell of my breast before he frowned. I looked an... the line of the brassiere really ruined the flow of the silk, and broke up the harmony of the lines. Without a thought, I asked Mr Wu to excuse me a moment and went to the bathroom and removed my bra. I wasn’t doing it to please him, it was about the artistry of the place, I was compromising it, and that could not be. When I returned, Mr Wu. “Did you think that you would get away with it?” she said quietly, still perfectly calm, the epitome of control.“Yes, Mistress,” I said, discarding the temptation to lie, to bargain, to try to talk my way out of it without hesitation. Her question was not rhetorical, and it was long past the time to play games with her or play the innocent, lost waif..“Did you think that I would care about the pictures you took? That I would care what people would think about me?”I closed my eyes and sighed,. More

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