He placed the screen next to my face. "Do you recognize this, slave?" It was our conversation over text. I swallowed. "Yes. Sir," I said. "Read to me ...y last message to you." I looked up at him with pleading eyes. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing. I knew what it said, but I looked at the screen. “I know, pet, but you know when you break my rules, you have to be punished. No more discussion on this.” I read. "And yet...you sent me two more texts, didn't you? Read them to me." My voice. I got a makeover. My mom was really mad.”“Your mom gets mad when you wear makeup?” I asked, shaking the bottle of nail polish.“She’s always mad at me,” Becky said, matter-of-factly.“Some moms are like that,” I said, looking Becky in the eye, past her steely gaze to the soft, lonely eyes of a sensitive little girl that needed my help. “My mom was like that. She was a real witch.”Becky giggled and I giggled too, and I saw her posture soften. “My mom says that I’m too young to wear makeup,” she. More

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