Protectively Intoxicated

Chapter One

The slightly-rusted brass bell rang as a customer walked into the tailor, dressed in a familiar dark-grey tailcoat - accented with floral spirals and swirls - accompanied with white dress pants. Upon first glance, he looked like an ordinary nobleman in their small town but, after looking closer, anyone could tell that the clothes he wore were much too small for him and beginning to burst at the seams.

Maeve shook her head, knowing all too well what was in store for her in the upcoming, devastatingly long hour. The Mayor, after all, was not an easy man to please with his fashion... let alone his lustful intentions with every woman he comes across - worst of all with Maeve.

She forced a polite and business-like smile on her face before standing up and acknowledging the Mayor's presence.

"Good morning, sir. How are you today?" He looked away from the walls covered in rolls of fabrics and over towards Maeve. She could see the ever-present hungry glint in his eyes as they traversed over her body; something she was becoming somewhat used to.

"Just wonderful now that my eyes have rested on you, my sweet," he finally looked away from her body and met her gaze, making eye-contact for the first time since he had walked into the store.

Trying to hold her composure, Maeve maintained her eye-contact with the Mayor, "Now, sir. How may I help you today?"

"Oh, my sweet. No need to use formalities. How many times have I told you to call me Hugh?" He slowly strode up to the desk that Maeve was standing behind and smirked. Placing a hand on the desk, he leaned over so that he could softly caress her face and she put up with it, knowing that Hugh wouldn't give up until he had what he wanted.

She stayed quiet and rigid until he stood upright again. She tilted her head to look up at him and repeated, holding back her distasteful tone, "How can I help you today, sir?"

He scowled at her when she, once again, refused to call him by his name, "One day. One day, you will call me by my name," he raised a finger to jab at her, "and you will relish the way it sounds on your tongue."

Maeve bit her lip to avoid saying anything further on the matter, even though she desperately wanted to put him in his place. She stood quietly and patiently, waiting for the Mayor to address exactly what he had come to her store for.

Hugh turned slightly so he was facing the wall and gave Maeve a side-eye glance before lowering his head with a sigh and turning back towards her, succumbing to what he actually came for.

"As you can see," he gestured down to his attire, "I am in need of a few alterations and new clothing as they seem to have shrunk. Bring out the hemlines and make it fit me as well as it did before. And, I will need you to redesign this tailcoat and create a new masterpiece for an extravagant party in a few weeks time. That is do-able, is it not?"

Maeve nods her head once, "Yes it is, sir. Per usual, the dressing room is just that way to the left. Lay the clothes you require me to alter on the desk and I will be with you in a moment." She retreats through a door located behind the desk and Hugh is left in the main room, alone.

This room could really use a bit of tidying up, Hugh thought to himself once Maeve had left. There's fabric all over every wall, the floor is littered with small unwanted scraps, and there is a layer of dust settling over everything. It feels so cramped in here... they could use a good thorough clean.

Hugh made his way over to the changing room, changed into a more simple getup than what he had come in and returned to the main room to place his garments on the desk.

Maeve had returned along with an older man, her mentor, or as Hugh had begun to know him as, August. He was shorter than Maeve by about two inches - putting him at five feet and three inches tall. He had wiry white hair and a full beard of the same colour. He was quite thin but had a bit of a pot belly, a sign of a high intake of beer and alcoholic substances.

He stepped forward and began to ask Hugh a few questions about this new festive coat he had in mind and Hugh willingly answered them all extensively, all the while watching Maeve at work.

She had picked up a tape measure from the table and had ushered Hugh onto a small, circular, wooden platform that was stationed in front of a tall mirror. She busied herself with taking the measurements of the Mayor. She completely zoned out of the conversation that the two men were having, knowing what her job was and just wanting to get it done. Due to that fact, she didn't notice August leaving the room but a few moments later.

She began by measuring the shoulders followed by the length of the arms. She then circled the wrists and biceps and trailed her way slowly down his body, taking as many measurements as possible so she wouldn't have to do this again any time soon.

Since Hugh was needing the leggings enlarged as well, she was forced to also measure his waist downwards. Lord, please have mercy, she pleaded silently.

She kneeled down in front of him and measured the length from his waist to his ankles and took the circumference of his calves and thighs.

As Maeve pulled her arms away, she lowered her head and began to stand up. She felt two hands on her shoulders, holding her down firmly. Her head flew to look up at Hugh only to see his face with a smirk on it. He thrust his hips forward, towards her face and, in a frantic movement to escape him - and his lustful, crude actions - she dropped like dead weight to the floor, letting out a shriek as she fell. August, who had left to go behind the storefront to continue his work, had come running out upon hearing the ruckus.

Maeve shook her head in disbelief and slowly rose, with August's help. She glared at the Mayor for a good long minute while August tried to talk some sense into Hugh. Suddenly, blood rushed up into Maeve's face and she held her hands in fists at her sides, trying to keep in her rage.

She couldn't take it anymore. This man, if you can even call him that, needs to be taught a lesson, Maeve thought, bitterly.

With an exasperated huff, she stormed up to Hugh and grabbed him by his tunic, "You! You are such a foul, lustrous, dirty pig," she yelled at him, spitting in his face with every word.

"Mister Mayor, Sir," she added with thick sarcasm in her voice. She slowly let go of his clothes and said, through gritted teeth, "I never want to see your face again. You hear me?!"

She took a slow step back and quickly fled from the store, leaving the men stunned, staring after her.