The uniform is cursed!

"Good..." she begins. "You will learn the dynamics of a **** owner relationship yet. You're not from here." She states plainly. "It's written all over your face, and your speech. But understand this. You are bound to your contract, and for the next two weeks, you are my ****. It is best that you come to understand that quickly."

"Lift your arms. " she commands, and you quickly oblige. "Your actions belong to me."

She produces a girdle from the stack of clothing. and begins to fit it snugly around your waist. It rides high, just below your chest, and drapes far down to your thighs. Even unlaced, you see how it will restrict your movement and **** you into a rigid posture. You feel her deftly begin to string the laces, and with the snap of her fingers, you feel the laces begin to tighten of their own accord.

"Breath out." She commands. Once again, you obey. The lacing swiftly pulls tight causing you to gasp as your waist is cinched down to a twig. "Your body belongs to me"

The girdle continues to tighten and become more stiff with each passing moment. You can feel it wiggling upon your body as if it's trying to coax the last bit of free space from your body. Suddenly, with a soft "Snick!" you feel the thing lock in place. You begin to pant and lean over as much as you can, but the girdle holds you upright. As you lean, you notice something strange happening. Your previously short cropped hair now hangs in your face, and with each breath you begin to feel something jiggle on your chest. Your face tingles, and goes numb, and as your hands rush to your face, you feel soft smooth flesh, where once more rugged stubble was. As the changes continue you look up to Amara, and demand "What's going on?!" You startle as you realize that even your voice has changed, becoming more smooth and pleasant, though still a bit deep and androgynous.

She smiles and says...