That she now knows she must always do. The switch has taught her."I can arrange to have all that happen over again, slave," says Vesta.Isabel moans, s...ill slobbering on the floor."Kneel up." Isabel does so, eyes still wide with horror. "So what have you got to ask me slave?"The white throat works convulsively. The words come out weak and hoarse. "T-To... to s-suck... my... M-Master's... p-prick..." No. You beg me slave, for that privilege..."Isabel begs.Her plea is granted and Magog sits. My hair wasn’t long enough for long wild curls, but was manageable in lovely flaxen glittering ringlets, pulled back by a crown piece with a blood red stone. One of Damion’s trinkets. With a sigh, I fastened his pendant around my neck, where it hadn’t been for months. The moonstone glittered. I pulled on the knee high boots and the transformation was complete. My hands glittered, silver nails surpassed only by the glint of the onyx stone of my ring. The pendant nestled just where it should. More

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