Elara Wang stared at her reflection once more, heart hammering against her ribs like a war drum. The green flower-printed gown Aurora had chosen for her hugged every dangerous curve of her body. The thin fabric clung to her heavy, full breasts, the neckline plunging just enough to show deep cleavage and the faint outline of her dark pink nipples, which had been stiff since the moment she woke up this morning. The hem skimmed mid-thigh, short enough that bending over would flash the curve of her plump ass and the tiny black thong she wore underneath — already damp with nervous, forbidden arousal.

You look like a whore again,...