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                  /)|     KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF    |(\
                 / )|         DIRECTORIES        |( \
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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of stories. o
o  They have been submitted by people from all over the world.  Also from o
o  alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order to this     o
o  section of my collection,  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                                   o
o  	I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to be typed o
o  therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's a lot more fun to  o
o  browse around and find 'little' surprises,  and topics that you might  o
o  not have even thought of looking for. I hope you enjoy your time among o
o  Kristen's book shelf directories.                                      o
o   	Lest we forget!!!  This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o  and should not be read by minors.  Thank you, Kristen Becker           o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Amy's Shame 3 (Fdom-F)
A Story by Ginny and Amy (c) 1998

**

On Monday morning, the whole office was buzzing about Amy's 
transformation. Her breasts, still too sore to even wear her bra, were 
covered by a dark blouse that concealed her tattoos well enough, but 
rubbed her tender nipples whenever she moved. They were particularly 
sensitive because of the stretching Jamie was inflicting on her and she 
frequently locked herself in her office to massage them. It didn't 
relieve the aching much , but it at least gave her the privacy to enjoy 
the tiny orgasms that her new-found need for frequent sexual release 
demanded. 

Unfortunately, her professional demeanor was undermined by Jamie and 
their friend Linda, who arrived for a meeting and walked behind her to 
get to their seats. Linda ran her fingers over Amy's new crewcut, 
whistled low and announced to the room, "Rad!" Jamie had laughed out 
loud, but several of the executives who had supported Amy's career, 
stared at her in dismay. The firm was conservative and Amy's new look 
was too "way out" for their tastes. In spite of that, a couple of the 
younger women stopped by her office and said they were glad she'd 
ditched her "dowdy" appearance for something more "hip." Amy couldn't 
help wondering how many of them were in on Jamie's little secret and how 
many of the others had guessed that something was amiss with her.

As the week dragged on, Amy felt like she was tip-toeing through a 
minefield where any misstep by her or Jamie would expose their terrible 
secret. The nights, on the other hand, were filled with an endless round 
of parties as Jamie showed Amy off like the new possession she was. Amy 
couldn't understand how Jamie did it, staying up well past midnight 
every night, then getting up well before sunrise. She, herself, was 
dragging by Wednesday, yet Jamie seemed as fresh as when the week began.

Every night Jamie allowed Amy into her bed to make love to her. At 
first, Amy had shuddered a the thought of putting her tongue inside the 
woman, but she quickly found herself looking forward to their time 
together. It may have been because after an orgasm, Jamie would hold 
her, the only affection she seemed to receive any more from anyone. 
Sometimes they'd talk briefly before Jamie sent her away to her spot on 
the floor. One night, after a party at which she'd had a lot to drink, 
Amy had boldly brought up the subject of Jamie's mother, a topic she'd 
been unwilling to discuss before. This time, however, Jamie didn't seem 
upset by the question.

"Your mother's home is beautiful," Amy had begun, "I was impressed by 
all the decorations. It must be worth a fortune." Jamie nodded as she 
ran her fingers over Amy's nipple and gave it a tug to test how well her 
stretching was progressing. "What does she do?" Jamie didn't understand 
Amy's question, so she re-phrased it, "I mean, where does she get her 
money? Did your father leave it to her, or does she have a job 
somewhere?" Jamie chuckled, "I guess you could say it's a job. She runs 
a string of bitches." Amy was startled, "You mean like prostitutes?"

Jamie grinned, "No silly, bitches! You know, like you're my bitch? You 
haven't forgotten the tattoo on your sweet little ass have you?" Amy 
still didn't understand so Jamie explained. "Over the years, she's tamed 
and broken dozens of high-spirited young women the same way I did you. 
After toying with them for a few months or a year, she introduced them 
to wealthy society men, businessmen or politicians and then she'd move 
on the next one." Amy shrugged, "So?" "You really are dense, aren't you 
Amy-girl?" Jamie chided her. "Well, after they get married, Barbara 
quietly lets the woman know the secret of her past is safe as long as 
she makes monthly payments to her."

"Blackmail, you mean," Amy said finally seeing the light. "Not 
blackmail, exactly," Jamie said, "Think of it more as payment for 
services rendered. That's what I'm going to call it when you pay me." 
Amy started to say that she'd never pay her a cent, but she wisely 
caught herself. After all, she'd already done quite a few things that a 
month ago she couldn't have imagined herself doing. "So all these women 
pay Barbara for her silence?" Amy repeated. "Yep," Jamie chortled, "and 
you'd be surprised at their names. They're the wives of some of the 
best-known men in town. Barbara gets a check or cash each month from 
them. She managed to buy that mansion and put me through college with 
plenty left over. In fact, she's still recruiting young women. If you're 
lucky, you may meet the next one in a few weeks. But that's enough talk 
for tonight, you'd better get to bed, I've noticed you've been dragging 
in the office lately."

When Amy returned to her "bed," Jamie set up the wooden rack above her 
chest as she did every night. From it stretched the elastic cords that 
Jamie attached to her nipples at least an hour every night. The last few 
nights, Amy had been so exhausted she'd fallen asleep with them still 
attached.. By the end of the week, though, Amy could already see how 
much her nipples had stretched. Surprisingly, although she'd expected to 
be disgusted by their appearance, she found her "little fingers" to be 
more an object of curiosity than anything else. Her only reservation, 
was that a couple of her co-workers had noticed the new bulges in her 
blouse and she was desperate to come up with a plausible explanation for 
their sudden appearance.

That's how Amy's first week went, careful by day, wanton slut by night. 
She never knew the number of ways a woman's body could be used by other 
women, but she hoped, that after the week of abuse she'd received, the 
limit had been reached. Friday afternoon Jamie walked in to Amy's office 
and caught her napping. "Come with me," she said and turned on her heel 
and headed back to her office. Amy followed her and when they reached 
Jamie's office, she told Amy to shut the door behind her. Jamie pointed 
to a spot beneath her desk, "On your knees, bitch!" Amy almost argued 
with her, but caught herself at the last moment. "What if someone comes 
in?" she asked, hoping Jamie would change her mind.

"Then you'll have a lot of explaining to do, won't you? Now get under 
there before I take you over my knee and give that nice ass of yours a 
paddling. If you think your screaming wouldn't attract a crowd, you're 
really crazy." Amy knew she was right and got down on her knees and 
backed under the desk ass-first. Once she was under it, Jamie wheeled up 
her chair, sat down and spread her legs as she pulled herself up to her 
desk. Amy saw the woman wasn't wearing any panties under her business 
suit. "Get that tongue busy Amy-girl," she laughed. Amy rested her hands 
against the inside of Jamie's thighs and pressed her face forward, eager 
to complete her humiliation before anyone came in looking for either her 
or Jamie.

When the tip of her tongue flicked against Jamie's clitoris, the woman's 
muscles tensed as she braced herself for the pleasure to come. Amy 
licked her rapidly, desperate to give her an orgasm before they were 
discovered, but Jamie put her hand on Amy's head and patted her gently, 
"Slowly, slowly, Amy-girl, we've got all the time in the world. Amy 
slowed her tonguing, but increased the amount of contact with Jamie's 
clitoris. She heard Jamie's breathing becoming more rapid as she neared 
her orgasm and just then there was a knock on the door. "Jamie? Jamie, 
it's Linda can I disturb you a minute, it's urgent!"

Jamie twisted her fingers in Amy's hair and whispered through clenched 
teeth, "Don't you dare stop, bitch, I'm too close!" Then Jamie leaned 
back in her chair and, using every bit of her reserve said in a voice 
that sounded on a couple of octaves too high, "Come in Linda." The 
pretty strawberry blonde associate came in and handed Jamie a folder. 
"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need you to OK this right away. 
Phillips is hot to get it out of here." Jamie didn't speak for fear of 
giving herself away, but nodded curtly and quickly scrawled her initials 
on the form. As Linda turned away, she stopped and turned back to Jamie.

"You're looking a little flushed, are you feeling alright?" Amy felt 
Jamie's fingers tighten their grip on her hair and she nearly yelped at 
the pain in her scalp. "I ... I'm fine," Jamie gasped, "just a little 
excited." Linda shrugged and headed toward the door. Just then, Amy's 
shoulders bumped the bottom of Jamie's center desk drawer with a soft 
"bump." Linda stopped at the noise and looked back at Jamie. Then she 
shrugged and walked out. As she reached for the door to close it, she 
saw a pair of women's shoes under Jamie's desk and she couldn't keep 
from smiling as she quickly pulled the door closed behind her.

Linda listened at the door for a moment and heard Jamie's muffled cry 
as, with her hand pressed over her mouth, she climaxed in a powerful 
orgasm. She slumped in her chair, tiny rivulets of perspiration running 
down her chest between her full breasts as she struggled to catch her 
breath. Amy, realizing she couldn't get out of her prison until Jamie 
moved the chair, tried to push it away from the desk. She finally 
squeezed out and straightened her clothes, ran her hand through her hair 
and, with as much dignity as possible under the circumstances said, "If 
you've been adequately satisfied, may I return to my office now?" Jamie 
sighed and nodded, "I guess so, but I was just thinking how great 
another would feel right now." 

She laughed as Amy's face colored and she scampered from the office. Amy 
headed straight for the ladies room where she rinsed out her mouth, 
washed her face and tried to make herself as presentable as she could 
after the ordeal she'd been through. Both legs of her pantyhose had runs 
and her skirt was soiled from the dirty floor beneath Jamie's desk. Just 
as she finished, Linda came swinging through the door. Amy liked the 
slender girl and greeted her warmly. Linda, perhaps because her mind was 
elsewhere, didn't acknowledge her immediately.

As Amy turned to go, however, Linda suddenly looked up and smiled at her 
friend. "I'm sorry Amy, I was  thinking of something else. What did you 
say?" Amy repeated her greeting and Linda nodded perfunctorily. When Amy 
opened the ladies room door, Linda called out as if she'd forgotten 
something, "Oh, by the way Amy have I told you how much I like your new 
shoes? I've never seen a pair like that before!" Amy cheerily said, "Oh, 
thanks. I got them at Marshall Fields last week. Neat, huh?" Linda tried 
not to giggle as she said,  "They certainly seem to be getting the job 
done, alright."

That night, Barbara and Jamie took Amy back to the warehouse club. This 
time, instead of a haircut, Amy would have a more "personal" role in the 
night's events.  She was taken to the stage where a short, heavy-set 
woman with pendulous breasts is giving a demonstration of her own line 
of designer dildos. Her model, a petite young girl who Amy was sure 
couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old, whimpered 
at the sight of several long, thick, models. "That's going to split me 
down the middle," she whimpered. 

The woman asked Jamie, and received permission to use Amy as a second 
model. Amy was told to stand in the middle of the stage with her rear 
toward the audience and bend at the waist as the heavy-set woman thrust 
one of the large dildos into her from behind. Amy, her vagina unprepared 
by any foreplay, screamed in agony as the sensitive tissues of her pussy 
were stretched and torn by the hard rubber. 

She slumped to her hands and knees, but the old woman merely knelt 
beside her and continued to piston the evil device in and out until Amy 
passed out from the pain. As the young woman lay unconscious on the 
stage, the woman held up the dildo and proclaimed, "Of course, if the 
subject isn't used to it, even the use of a good dildo may result in 
injury. I don't recommend you try this at home on virgins." The 
knowledgeable audience chuckled at her droll remark as two waitresses 
dragged Amy's limp body from the stage.

When she awoke later, Amy was laying across Barbara and Jamie's laps in 
a small backstage room. "You certainly embarrassed us tonight," Barbara 
snarled. "Obviously my daughter has neglected your training. Jamie, I 
expect you to begin the dildo training next week. When we return next 
weekend, she'll not only take that big thing, but a second one in her 
asshole, if necessary. Do you understand?" Jamie cleared her throat, 
eyed Amy cautiously and nodded, "Yes, Mother. I understand."

The next morning, Amy awoke with a terrible throbbing between her legs. 
Fortunately, the huge dildo hadn't done any permanent damage to her 
sensitive pussy. Instead of being allowed to sleeping late, Amy was 
awakened by Jamie at the crack of dawn and her nipples subjected to 
another hour of stretching. She wondered how she'd look if she were ever 
permitted to leave the house braless in a sheer or even thin blouse. 
Just the thought of strangers staring at her little stubs of nipples was 
enough to get her aroused again. She cried when she looked at herself in 
the mirror, her long brown hair had been replaced by the close-cropped 
peroxide do that left her unrecognizable as the same sweet young Amy 
who'd appeared at Barbara's front door a week before.

Barbara joined Jamie for breakfast and while they read the morning 
paper, Amy was allowed to rest, kneeling in front of them and serving as 
their footstool! She was only allowed to move whenever she was sent 
hurrying to the kitchen to refill one of their coffee cups. Once she'd 
spilled some and Barbara had snapped the leather riding crop she kept 
close at hand and ordered Amy onto her belly to suck it up from the 
carpet. While she sucked as rapidly as she could, Jamie knelt beside her 
and criss-crossed her bare bottom with Barbara's crop. Amy was tearful 
and too sore to stand when Barbara finally put a stop to her beating.

That afternoon Barbara drove Amy and Jamie downtown once again. This 
time, she parked across the street from one of the new parlors 
specializing in body piercing. While Amy sat trembling in the corner, 
Barbara and Jamie picked through a selection of rings that they would 
have the owner attach to various parts of Amy's body. "We'll start with 
the nipples," the greasy, hairy man said as he started to unbutton Amy's 
blouse. She pushed his dirty hands aside and said, "I'll do it myself 
thank you. Why don't you go wash your hands before you touch me." 
Barbara and Jamie exchanged glances, obviously there was still some 
pride and spunk left in the young woman. They'd have to address that 
deficiency as soon as possible.

The man rinsed his hands with alcohol, daubed something on her breast 
and picked up a long silver needle. "This won't hurt at all," he 
chuckled as he pinched the tip of her left nipple between his thumb and 
first finger and stretched it. Amy closed her eyes and tilted her head 
back, unable to watch him puncture her tender flesh. She felt the 
pressure of the needle and heard a little "pop" as it broke the skin. 
There was a momentary stab of pain and then nothing. She looked down, 
worried that something had gone wrong, but he was threading a small 
golden loop through the neat hole he had made in her nipple. "There," he 
sighed as he playfully flicked the ring with his finger, "that's one."

He repeated the process on Amy's right nipple and when he'd finished she 
stood and looked at herself in the mirror. When the light hit her chest 
just right, the golden rings reflected it back into the mirror. "That 
wasn't so bad," she chirped to Jamie. "I know," Jamie said, "but that 
was the easy part. Now you're going to get the others." Amy looked at 
Jamie, then at Barbara and finally at the shop-keeper, "Others?"

"Lift up your dress and get up on the table," Barbara said brusquely. 
Amy hesitated briefly, but when Jamie took a menacing step forward, she 
quickly grabbed her dress, lifted it to her waist and used a chair to 
clamber up on the table. The man looked under her dress and muttered, 
"No panties, that's handy. OK girly, on your back!" It finally dawned on 
Amy what was about to happen and she broke into tears, "Please NO! Don't 
do this Jamie, I'm begging you. Please?" Jamie shrugged, "Sorry 
Amy-girl, it's part of your training. Hop to it, on your back like a 
good girl."

The man waddled forward and leaned his gut against the desk, holding 
Amy's thighs apart with his elbows as he ran his fingers over the 
opening between her legs. She blushed at the man's touch, only the 
second man to ever touch her there and her body began to tremble. He 
pulled on her labia and, satisfied with what he found, quickly splashed 
some disinfectant on her and performed his operation. Amy tried to 
remain still, as much from fear of Barbara and Jamie as from fear of 
injury, but she still squirmed and moved her ass as he punctured her 
labia.

When he finished, she had matching rings, one in each labia. She stood 
tentatively and realized she couldn't close her legs! "You'll get used 
to it," Jamie giggled, "all the girls have that problem at first. Come 
on, let's complete your outfit." Jamie took Amy to the counter where 
there were a selection of golden balls of different sizes. Each had a 
clasp attached and there was also a pair of small chains. "What are you 
going to do with these?" she asked naively.

"I think we should start with the 5's don't you agree Barbara?" Jamie 
asked, ignoring Amy entirely. With Barbara's concurrence, Jamie attached 
one ball to each chain and then knelt between Amy's legs and clipped the 
chains to the rings in her labia. "If you lose either of these," she 
warned, "it will go hard for you." She strung a third chain between 
Amy's breasts that hung nearly to her waist and then stepped back to 
admire the young woman's new look. "It's OK for now," Barbara observed, 
"but in a couple of months, she'll be carrying three times that much. 
Later, Amy would learn why Jamie attached such importance to both her 
nipple and labia rings.

Despite the pain in her nipples, Amy found that the balls swinging 
between her legs were far more disconcerting. When she moved she could 
hear them clang together so loudly she was certain everyone in her 
office could hear them although no one seemed to notice. She had been 
forbidden to wear panties, so when she attended meetings, she had to be 
very careful to keep her legs pressed tightly together.
She discovered that this increased the pressure on her vagina and made 
her become aroused. It could be quite embarrassing to be sitting a 
roomful of brokers and traders and have a mini-orgasm. Fortunately, it 
began to occur with such regularity, that people stopped noticing when 
she'd shake and perspire at odd times.

It seemed everyone in the office had noticed Amy's new look. Before her 
"makeover" she'd been the meek little mouse who everyone ignored. Now, 
with her increased visibility, she realized how uncomfortable her 
celebrity was. She imagined that everyone was staring at her and 
watching her every move. When she went to the bathroom, for example, she 
became so paranoid, she wouldn't take the center stall and waited for 
the one in the corner where no one would hear her rattling her chains as 
she dressed and undressed. Her life was becoming a nightmare and there 
were even more unsettling events just around the corner.

The next weekend, Jamie introduced a new element to their twisted game. 
She showed Amy a tiny black box about the size of a transistor radio. 
There was a small plastic dildo about the size of a large cigar attached 
by a cord. Somewhat fearfully, Amy asked, "What is it?" Jamie laughed, 
"It's a control device you dumb cunt." Seeing Amy's uncomprehending 
expression, Jamie demonstrated for her. She hung the device from Amy's 
labia rings and slowly worked the dildo slowly into her pussy. A second 
thin wire which served as an antenna hung from the box, it would be 
visible to everyone if Amy wore a skirt above her knees. 

Amy waited expectantly, but she felt nothing. But as she walked around 
the room, the sensation of the dildo in her pussy and the box slapping 
against her thighs was highly erotic. Then Jamie picked up a small  box 
like a TV remote control and pressed a button. The dildo began 
vibrating, sending jolts of sexual stimulation through her loins. Within 
minutes she was not only too aroused to walk, she could barely stand 
still. Jamie clicked off the remote and Amy slowly descended down from 
her erotic high and returned to normal. Amy found the mere thought of 
Jamie holding such awesome power over her was quite daunting and it gave 
her real concern about her ability to continue to function in the 
office.

"Monday morning," Jamie told her, "you're going to wear this in the 
office." Despite her training, Amy blurted out her reluctance. "I can't, 
what if someone sees it? What will I say?" Jamie shook her head, "Not my 
problem. You're going to wear it or something a hundred times worse." 
Amy was too cowed by Jamie's threats to ask what alternative she had and 
she agreed to wear the device. 

On Monday and on each succeeding day, Jamie turned it on several times a 
day for anywhere from one to five minutes. When she was in her office 
working on the computer, Amy almost enjoyed the feeling it gave her, but 
in meetings or talking with a client, the effect was not just diverting, 
it was positively devastating! 

She soon learned not to stop and talk to anyone in the hall, especially 
a man. If Jamie saw her talking to anyone, she'd flip on Amy's "climax 
machine" and watch her begin to squirm. If the man happened to be 
important, poor Amy had no choice but to stand there and take it for as 
long as she could. 

One day, Amy had been in a meeting with a very important Chinese woman 
when Jamie activated the device. The woman watched with aplomb as Amy 
begin to squirm and move in her seat. At one point, the woman moved 
close, took Amy's hand solicitously and asked if there were anything she 
could do to help her. The poor girl had run sobbing from the office 
leaving the Chinese woman wonder why her gracious offer had been 
rebuffed so impolitely. Fortunately for the company, Jamie had "happened 
to be" nearby and was able to sweep in a the last moment to save the day 
and the account for the firm!

Amy had rushed to the ladies room and taken the first unoccupied stall. 
There, she huddled on the toilet cubicle until her orgasm subsided. She 
sighed, straightened her dress and stepped out, nearly knocking over her 
friend Linda who had been in the adjoining stall. "Are you OK, Amy," 
Linda asked, "You look ill. I haven't seen anyone looking that bad since 
I was in Jamie's office last week. Perhaps something's going around?" 
Amy glanced at Linda to see if she was aware of what had happened in 
Jamie's office, but the slim strawberry blonde was inscrutable. "Could 
be," Amy muttered, "You never know these days."

Amy leaned on the sink to steady her nerves as Linda washed her hands 
and left. Amy had liked Linda since they'd first met and, although Amy 
wasn't aware of it, Linda had secretly admired her since she'd joined 
the firm. But she'd seen and recognized Amy's shoes under Jamie's desk 
two weeks before and although Linda considered herself "liberal" she'd 
been mystified as to why the bright young brunette would lower herself 
to perform such perverted acts on anyone, especially Jamie, who as far 
as Linda knew, wasn't even in a position of authority over Amy. 

Linda shrugged, "Oh well," she thought, "maybe they're lesbians." Linda 
walked down the hall, running her fingers through her light 
reddish-blond hair. Jamie leaned out of her office and watched the girl 
as she passed. Although the quiet girl rarely talked about herself, 
Jamie was one of the few who knew that Linda was seriously involved with 
the young son of a prominent family. With her slim frame and small, firm 
breasts, Linda would make an attractive, if not a beautiful, society 
wife.

Jamie told Amy to expect a guest for dinner on Thursday and ordered her 
to leave work early, pick up the food on the way home, clean the 
apartment, heat the dinner and be in the bedroom naked when she arrived. 
Amy had to lie to her boss to get away. She told Mr. Phillips she was 
sick and hurried off to perform her duties. Jamie had been quite 
specific about what food Amy was to buy and it took much longer than 
she'd expected. When she got home, she had to rush to get all the 
ingredients assembled even though most of the items needed little 
preparation.

Amy had just finished undressing when Jamie arrived. "Good," Jamie said 
when she saw Amy standing demurely in the middle of the bedroom with her 
hands crossed modestly in front of her, "I didn't think you'd get it 
done in time. As Jamie undressed, she told Amy, "After you finish 
washing my body, I want you to set the table, open the wine, complete 
the dinner and then be ready to serve at 8:30 sharp. Is that 
understood?" Amy nodded, since she was accustomed to servicing Jamie 
when she showered that part was expected. She just worried that she'd be 
adequate in her new and unaccustomed role as a serving lady.

A short time later Jamie stepped from the shower with a grin on her 
lips, satisfied and refreshed, she was ready for the evenings 
entertainment. Amy, on the other hand, was still resting on her knees in 
the spray of the shower, her loins throbbing with unfulfilled desire. 
She leaned against the wall and used her fingers to release the built-up 
tension until Jamie heard her moan as she climaxed. The cruel dominatrix 
knew it would be a fun evening, no matter what happened.

Amy finally rose to her feet and slowly dried her body with Jamie's damp 
towel, just the smell of Jamie's lush body was enough to get her aroused 
all over again. By the time she walked into Jamie's bedroom, the 
brunette was nearly dressed. "What would you like me to wear tonight, 
Jamie?" she asked demurely, the only tone of voice Jamie permitted her 
to use in her presence. Jamie smiled and studied her slender slave 
before she replied. "I think you're fine just the way you are, dear. But 
I'd comb my hair if I were you, it's a little disheveled." 

Amy stared at her in disbelief, "Like this? Naked?? You can't be 
serious!" But Jamie was quite serious. "Oh, yes," she snarled, "When I 
tell you I want your skinny ass naked, I mean it! My guest this evening 
is very important to me and I want her to see that I'm a woman who 
delivers on her promises. Showing her that I have you under my complete 
and total control is the first step in that process." Jamie glared 
menacingly at Jamie and then her face suddenly softened. "But I'm being 
too harsh on you," she said soothingly as she slipped her arm around 
Amy's bare shoulder. "Perhaps I'm expecting too much of you to prance 
around in your birthday suit, especially looking as skinny as you do. 
Would you like to put on a dress, at least, to serve my guest?"

Grateful for Jamie's understanding, Amy bobbed her head like one of 
those dogs in the back of the Puerto Rican gang members cars. "Oh, yes, 
Jamie. Thank you." But as Amy started toward the cardboard box where 
Jamie allowed her to keep her clothes, she heard Jamie pick up the 
telephone, "Operator," she said, "give me the Internal Revenue Service. 
I'd like to report a tax cheat." All the blood drained from Amy's face 
and her hands began to tremble. She spun around and yelped, "No, wait. 
Don't! I'll do whatever you  want, just don't turn us in."

Jamie put down the phone softly, not wanting to disturb the dial tone 
that still buzzed in the handset. "That's a good Amy-girl," she said as 
she stroked Amy's head like a puppy's. "I'm glad you recognize who has 
the upper hand in this relationship." As Jamie checked her out of the 
corner of her eye, Amy combed her hair (top and bottom) and steeled 
herself for the ordeal to come. Unfortunately, she still had no idea of 
what was about to happen to her.

(End of Part 3.)

