His name is Missy and I'm sure he'sglad to have met some new friends."Mistress guided me back to the dressing room, my faceburning in humiliation. I c...uld hear the girls giggling andtalking as the shop owner began to help them find gowns.On Friday, I got off work early to begin the transformationto a southern belle. Mistress took me to the salon whereshe had made an appointment. First, my longer-than-normalhair was curled into sausage curls by a young beauticianwho kept just gushing about my. I smiled, relishing the chance for more enrichment.A muffled hiccup at the back of the warehouse startled me and brought me back to the present. Slowly, I drew my sword and cautiously moved towards the source of the noise. A small, slim foot protruded from a stack of hay. Sheathing my sword, I pulled it. Its owner revealed itself with a squeal—a girl of maybe sixteen or seventeen wearing a dirty white skirt. Her doe eyes stared up at me, wide with fear. She was curvaceous for her age, her. More

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