That night, I went through every word of the contract with a fine tooth comb but came up with no loophole, no escape clause. I couldn't even fire her for six months based on the disclaimer I somehow missed.

I tried calling Sophia all night but never got an answer which only increased my frustration and anxiety. Eventually past exhaustion, I crawled into bed hoping I wouldn't dream.

"Who owns you?" Amber asked, as I sat on the floor of my office naked except for the heels she insisted I keep on.

"You do, Mistress," I answered embarrassed by my need to obey.

"And what will you do to please...