Carl seemed so nice at dinner and the theater. Why was he doing this to her?Becca almost screamed when the phone ran. She took a minute to start breathing again before she pick the phone up."Becca, how do you like the clothes? I'm sure that you will be the toast of Paris. I'll have my driver pick you up at 6 o'clock Wednesday morning. Please be ready when he arrives. We'll take my plane rather than fly commercial. See you Wednesday.Carl hung up before she could even say a word. Sat down again and put her face in her hands. Tears would not come this time. She was beginning to be resigned to her fate. He knew exactly how to mold her to his will. She knew what Carl was doing, but she was powerless to stop him.Her feelings for Howard had sunk to a point where she would have more feelings for a stray dog than her husband. All of this was Howard's fault. If she had to confront him when she was in Paris, she had decided to ask for a divorce. Suddenly fear took hold of her body and her skin. Why don't you tell me what you expect?"Boris frowned. "First, Boss must approve -- otherwise, not possible. You will be mine -- daytime, nighttime -- all the same. Sex, iron shirts, cook -- everything. I am Boss; you do as I say or be punished. Punishment is whatever I decide. You grow real tits -- get padding for hips -- have babies, nyet?" He grinned. "Little brown babies not problem, eh?" No," Leticia agreed. "This is all?" I missed something?" Boris replied. "I want EVERYTHING! Is clear?" Yes," Leticia nodded. Turning, she popped tea bags into two cups and poured water over them. "Now, may I present my expectations?"Boris eyed her warily, but waved a hand. Leticia handed him his cup, laid out spoons and sugar next to the milk. "I want to be protected -- treated at least as well as valuable property. I should not have to worry about Phillippe, for instance."Boris took a moment, pouring milk and squeezing out the tea bag. "What if I do like Boss? Lend you to Phillippe?" That is.
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