But then her smile came back. "Anthony, why don't you come with me for a moment? Christine, you stay here."
Before you could reply, Sam's giant fingers wrap around your minuscule frame and Sam stands up and walks into the other room. She sets you down on a table and sits in the chair in front of you. Since you weren't under her foot, you had a moment to admire her beauty. Her ghostly white skin gave her the appearance of a near-albino, but it wasn't in a way that made it look completely white, nor like she had never been outside. It was just the right color to say that she was the lightest of skins, but not too light-skinned. And her platinum blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her head perfectly. But this moment of beauty was interrupted, because the smile disappeared from her face once again, and you figured you would not be receiving good news.
"Anthony, I'm not really paying Christine." she said to you.
"What? Why did you say you would, then?"
"To get her to stop whining about being 'treated poorly' and all that crap."
"So there's not a chance I'm getting paid either?"
"Notta."
"Damn. What are you going to do when Christine starts asking about the money?"
"I don't have to do anything. If she starts whining about wanting money I'll stuff her in my sock."
"Wait, you're not going to return us to normal?"
"Of course not, Anthony. Well for one I don't know how, and for another, I don't want to pay her, and you're going to be the perfect slave." The smile had returned to her face as she said the last part. Not a warm, loving, friendly smile. But a wicked smile, one that said, "I own you."
"Slave? Excuse me? I will not be your slave!"
"You'll do whatever I say, if you don't want to spend a week in my sock."
You backed down, because you have had enough of her gruesome feet.
"Good boy." she said, very demeaningly, and with a smile.
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