There's a twist.

I couldn't keep up this charade any longer. I smiled.

"And it never will."

I watched as the tortured beauty's eyes grew wide as my meaning sunk in.

"You!? You did this to me!?"

"Indeed I did, you little bitch. Now keep your voice down and spread your legs."

Sarah didn't move to comply, was too stunned to, but the fishnets and heels imprisoning her were eager to obey their mistress. Sarah looked shocked. She was probably flashing back to all the highlights of her year in uniform. All the things she'd lost, all the awful places she'd stayed, all the people she'd served…

I'd masturbated myself to sleep many a night observing the tawdry pornography her life had become.

"How?"

That was all the blonde idiot could manage. I pulled up the sleeve on my jacket and showed her the intricate symbol carved into my forearm. It never healed, but never bled. She stared at it dumbly.

"This gives me dominion over that uniform you look so adorable in," I said, reaching across the counter to pinch her cheek. "As well as anything inside it," I said, glancing down at her glorious tan cleavage. She tried to bolt out of the booth, but her legs stayed spread wide open. I leaned back and stretched my leg out under the table and began probing under her skirt with the tip of my high heel. She shuddered, but stayed rooted to the spot.

"Why are you doing this? You ruined my life."

I could tell she wanted to scream that last part, but the collar she was wearing made her obey my order to keep her voice down. I ignored her question.

"I quite enjoyed watching your nightly escapades, but maybe it is time for a change. Maybe I should make you my house **** so I can ramp up your punishment."

"Punishment for what!?," she said, slapping the table for emphasis.

I glared at her. Could she really have forgotten?