Work a few days. It can't hurt.

You sip calmly at your coffee while looking over the room. You pity Aelfleda darting up and down the lengths of the hall, and decide to give it a shot. It will keep you busy, and you'll be working with some attractive women, that doesn't sound to bad for an in between job.

You call out to the taller woman who introduces herself as Amara. She seems thrilled with your agreement, and ushers you into the back where she produces a contract.

"To work here, you will be indentured for the length of your employment. You'll be under contract to work for two weeks, then you will be paid well and released in the eyes of the law. " She assures you such contracts are all very normal practice.

You stare at the contract, though the more you read the more you realize it's not much different from a standard employment contract from back home. You'll just be regarded as an indentured servant under Amara for the length of your employment. You sign the contract, and with a startling flash, feel what can only be defined as a constriction upon your mind. It's not painful, but is very disconcerting. You screw up your face into a frown, even as she breaks into a crooked smile. She explains some of the particulars, then produces a stack of folded clothes.

"Very good. I will have Aeflade explain your duties as you work, but the fifth hour is here. Strip down. I will place you in your uniform."

Taken aback you snap. "I can dress myself."
She gives you a piercing gaze with her grey eyes, and sharply states. "I did not stutter, now Strip." She demands.

You open your mouth to protest again, but a sense of urgency wells up inside of you. The compulsion to strip falls upon you like the most dire necessity, and you're already late in tending to it. Within moments, you stand before Amara naked, cheeks glowing brighter even as your eyes furrow in concern and confusion.

She begins to walk around you, observing your body. "Give me the clothes...please" you whimper. The statement was far from the confident insistence you had intended. "Amara" You state more sternly.

"Be silent." She commands. "I will dress you when I decide to." She prowls back into your view. "And that is the last time you call me Amara. You will address me as Miss, Miss Amara, or Mistress." She points an elegant finger in your face. "Is that understood?"

Again the urgency wells up within you. "Y-yes! Miss..." You utter quickly. The tension subsides, and you sigh at the relief.