Author's POV:
Olivera straightened the invisible creases on the short thin gown with her fingers, sighing all the same. She was a slave. The realization soaked her in and out.
But for how long? Would it be forever?
A step at a time. She thought to herself as she took in a deep breath, and let out some more.
She will survive. She has to.
"Are you planning on sleeping in there?"
She heard her taskmaster ask with a loud voice, and gulped in saliva. This was it. Her work has started.
Sighing again, she turned the knob of the door and walked out, her face down, her eyes concentrated on a dark brown stain on the waist band of the gown.
She jerked her head up as she heard the woman cuss.
"You don't even know how to wear a gown? Are you serious right now?" The woman asked, as she trailed her eyes all over her.
"I..." Olivera stuttered, then shut her mouth. She wasn't sure of what her crime was.
"Come here." The woman ordered, and Olivera stilled at first, unsure of why the woman was calling her, but forcing herself to move the next minute, because she didn't want to receive a beating on her first day. Earlier in the closet, she had decided to avoid anything that will attract a beating to her. Her skin was too sensitive, another curse from the goddess. She had always thought.
"Have you worn a gown before?" The woman asked in a lower tone, that still held that note of hostility.
"No." Olivera replied, after some beats. She couldn't remember herself ever wearing a gown. She hadn't even worn one for the last prom night. She had worn a jumpsuit for the only prom night she had attended in her whole life, and that was because Jeremy had been her date.
"I see." The woman replied, and Olivera wondered what she was seeing.
"Go back inside, and wear it properly. This part..." The woman said, pointing to her chest;
"... should be at the back." She concluded, and Olivera nodded like a robot, before walking back through the way she had come from.
But as she was going, she heard the woman holler after her.
"Be fast about that. And don't waste my time. We both have work to accomplish before the day is over." The latter had said.
**
Olivera breathed out as she walked into the closet and shut it after her.
She rested her back on the wall, her hand to her chest as she deliberated on what the woman had said.
"The front should be at the back..."
She looked down at the cloth, and cussed.
Of course, she had known.
She had worn it this way, because the frontal area had a huge dip in the chest region that would reveal more than her cleavage and she hadn't wanted that, not with that evil bulky man leering after her.
She had prayed that the woman wouldn't notice it, but again, the goddess hadn't answered her prayers.
What a waste of prayer time. She thought, holding the gown by the waist, and pulling it over her head.
"Oh, damn me..." She muttered, as she looked down at the gown which was now worn in its rightful way.
Her brassiere didn't do much to cover her plumpy breasts, and the gown highlighted it so much.
"Damn me." She cussed again, as she tried to tuck her breasts firmly inside, but the two softness were already determined to stay right where they were.
"Olivera!" She heard her taskmaster shout, and stopped her futile acts.
Immediately she opened the door, and almost collided into the woman who had wanted to push the door open.
"What took you so long? Do you need a whip to work faster?" The woman asked.
"No ma." She replied immediately, her hands clasped together in front of her like a nun, as she bent her head down.
"I hope so. I see you got the bearings now." The woman said, referring to the gown.
"Yes, ma. I do." She responded.
"Good, don't forget. You wear it this way everyday. Now, follow me. I have gotten a call from a friend that needs help tidying his apartment." The woman asked, turning on her heels and walking away, towards the entrance, unaware of Olivera who was struggling to breath properly.
She was going to work in a man's apartment?
Now, she would have preferred working in the field with the other girls.
**
Olivera bit her lips as she watched her taskmaster knock on the door for the second time.
She prayed that the man, whomsoever it was, wouldn't be around.
But her prayers weren't heeded to again.
The door opened, after the third knock, revealing a lanky man with a growing bald head.
"Hello Nick. What have you been doing? I have been knocking for a while." Her taskmaster said, annoyance underlying her voice.
"I'm sorry about that, Rose. I was busy with something inside." The man replied, before noticing Olivera standing timidly behind the woman.
"Is she my helper for today?" He asked, still looking at Olivera.
"Yes." The woman replied, before turning around and walking away, not bothering to make an introduction, or give Olivera some tips.
"Hello, what is your name?" The man asked Olivera.
"Olivera." She replied, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her head still bent low.
"Okay, Olivera. My name is Nick." He stated, and she just nodded, not for once looking up at him.
A new one. Nick thought, shaking his head.
"Come inside then." He said, opening the door wider.
"I won't harm you. I promise." He said, when he saw her reluctance to come inside.
He sighed in relief, as she nodded before taking timid steps into his house.
He shook his head again as he watched her prick her hand with her fingers, standing like a confused puppy at the centre of his sitting room.
He only hoped that this innocent one wouldn't fall into the hands of the bad wolves in his pack.