panic

You remain silent. After a while, he looks down at the pregnancy test that he is holding in his hand. "You're pregnant?"

You hesitantly answer, "yes."

"With mine?"

Once again, you hesitatingly answer "yes," but this time the moment you answer he turns around and throws up in a wastebasket. When is he done, he asked, "and we made a contract to be married."

"Yes," causing him to dry heave again. You continue, "what wrong?"

He quickly snaps, "I fucked my own sister, and now I'm in contract to marry her. That what's wrong."

This is going completely wrong, so you panic, "what if I don't look like your sister."

He answers, "what do you mean?"

"I could dye my hair, tan every day, get a breast reduction or breast implants, what you want. Also long as you support my children, your sister could have died off in a faraway land yesterday, and you own me. So you can make me into whatever you desire."

You instantly know you offered to much but it was too late now. He grabs a paper of the bedroom desk and quickly right down a list. Without looking at you, he throws the paper towards you. "You have ten-month to have everything on that list done. Use the company credit card, I really don't care, but no one is to see you until it's all done." He runs out of with even taking a second glance at you.

You scan the list.

At the top of the list was the number of the world's best plastic surgeons.

Below that

1.skin at minimum two shades tanner always.

1. Hair blond permanently
2. Breast half-cup bigger, make although make than look real. Correct natural nipples placement and the ability to lactate is a must.
3. You nipple belly button and clit will be parsed, for fun private activities. However, in public, you are to act properly as if they are not.
4. Your face needs to be completely redone. I don't want to see a hint of her in it the next time we meet.