" No, I don't," I argued, recognizing she was right but being tooembarrassed to agree with her."Show me your muscle then. Make a muscle," she taunted..."Aw, come on, Wendy. I got muscles."I raised my right arm, pulled back my tee shirt sleeve, and hardened myarm in an effort to show a sinewy bicep. Nothing appeared, but a flatsoft upper arm.Wendy did the same, showing a firm bicep with a slight bulge of muscle. Suddenly realizing that she was shaming me, she quickly dropped her armand said: . " Susan's eyes widened. Her mouth gaped. "What?" "Take off your clothes, please, starting with your blouse." Susan was not an aggressive or assertive woman. There was nothing forceful about her; instead, she was submissive, acquiescent, compliant. Years of physical abuse at the hands of her father and years of sexual and physical abuse at the hands of Madame Sharon had made her as pliable and supple as a mindless willow branch. She wanted only to please others, especially her mistress, no. More

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