But the dress wasn't the reason Zoe was staring. It was what was on the dress that made her stare. Apparently, her mother was busy sewing a word into the front of the dress. So far, it said SLAV. But Zoe knew what the word was supposed to be. It was supposed to be SLAVE, once it was finished.
Was Zoe supposed to wear this? No way. No fucking way.
"I'm not wearing that," Zoe said.
"You don't have a choice. Mistress said that you have to do as she says. Or else. You don't want to upset Mistress, do you?"
