At first, I thought I hadlost my belt, but I felt it cinched around my waist. The stage itselfhad a number of different cameras built into it, and in ...he monitor, Icould see my image. The same that was plastered on the big screen. Thesame one that was causing such vitriol from teenage girls who hadminutes before been screaming in anticipation for their wonderful bubblegum princess hour to start.My eyes widened as I saw what appeared to be snakes roosting in my hair.My hair was cut quite short. The most I had been able to bring myself to say was a tearful'I don't know.'After a long while I went into the small bathroom attached to my bedroomand started to take a shower. I needed to calm down and get some sleep.Suddenly I heard the bedroom door open."I put something for you on your bed. Try it on only if you want to.Good night, dear. See you in the morning."I heard the door latch click and decided it was safe to come out of thebathroom. Nervously I looked for what Mom had put on the. Now I don't talk about make-up much in my stories. I prefer to let my readers form their own images. My fantasy may not be yours. But properly done make-up adds a lot, and a sexy face makes a sexy woman. The difficulty here is in the phrase "properly done". More does not equate to better. In fact, most women would look better with a bit less than they actually use, since the more make-up a woman uses, the far more expert her art in applying it must be. These women were wearing a lot, and. "You show me up in front of the other supervisors, lettingthose little sluts make a fool of me!" Y.. you could have stopped them!" I protest. "Or stood up to Artemis!"She yanks my hair hard this time, making me gasp and my eyes water. "Shutup you little bitch!" she snaps, and I see the tears of frustration in hereyes. "My one chance to impress her with the freshest cutest piece of sissyass in the building... I looked after you, and took care of you and, andnow, they're laughing at me, and it's.