C'est Ma Bête {H.S}

02

TW: talk of weight loss, body shaming, slight ED?...

Colette

I suck in a sharp gasp, my body desperately craving oxygen that is so blatantly being taken from me. My lungs pump unevenly but as lightly as possible to stay unnoticed. If I complained Mère would have my head about it. Speaking of the obligations of a lady.

She pulled harshly on the laces of my corset again making my fingers almost scratch the paint off of the bedpost, gripping it for as much leverage as I could manage. A wince snakes it's way through my teeth. Fuck this is painful. Mother notices my slip up, pausing to stand the laces still pulled tight so she wouldn't lose her place in the tightness squeezing the life of out of my torso. I could feel her eyes shooting lasers into the back of my skull, that mixed with the vigorous strain on my ribs and lungs making me slightly sweat. I would sigh if I had the air to do so.

Shit, shit, shit.

"You need to stop that Colette." She speaks to me behind my back, continuing to yank the laces.

Do you think she imagines and hopes that if she pulls tight enough she will be able to control me like a puppet? Yanking my strings and making me dance for her?

She catches me off guard by the rough tug of the laces making me let out another surprised gasp. Not too loud, but enough for her to chew me out for. But she only pulls tighter, making me grit my teeth. "Acting this way will not do. And maybe if you lost some of this extra weight, this would be easier for the both of us." She speaks her voice a slight mumble.

Her words make my stomach drop slightly. My mouth open but no words coming out as I just stare ahead of me. Though this was a usual occurrence for her. Speaking of my weight and size, hounding me to be smaller, lose more, be a "lady". But it never seemed to hurt any less no matter how many times she spoke those words. She is a very tiny woman. Skin and bones practically, and maybe it is because of the mindset she has developed. She somehow still managed to look pristine even with this seeming unhealthiness. I was not a bigger girl, I liked to believe I was normally sized, but then again what is normally sized? No matter how much I put off it is still not to her liking. It began to make me unrecognizable to myself, I have come to not be able to tell anymore. What is enough, what I look like, how much is left; whether that be how much left to lose or how much I have left to save. It was such an odd thing. I do not believe you need to put your body through such strain and hate to be seen as beautiful. But it was almost like her words made me feel obligated. They still had effect. It angered me. A searing anger.

A smirk creeped it's way up to my face, even though it was half forced and she could not see regardless. But when she speaks of me like this, it arouses my need to defy against her and her longing image of me.

"But Mère, if I lose any more..." I spoke in innocence turning my head as much as I could, my hands still placed on the bedpost in security. She looks up, a displeased look plastered on her features as she waits for me to continue. Probably hoping my words would be some of searching for her validation. "...how would the men drool over bulging bust?" I finished my face still morphed into one of innocence.

I do my best to hold my smile back when I see her mouth drop at my words. She was definitely in shock. All she did was stand there frozen, nothing coming out of her still mouth.

Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh.

I had to force myself. I always love catching people off guard, seeing the look on their faces. Though the comment I had made was far from my true thoughts, it was still funny none the less. I was never to be one to search for the consolation of any man. I take pride in that. Most of the men my age and above in the palace are truly disgusting. Though I have had my experience of delving in the taste of a man, the desires of my own and most likely his. I am a woman, I do have needs and though no man is good enough or even tolerable enough, I have conducted my own personal research with a man or two. No more than I can count on one hand of course, but it shouldn't matter if I did. Men here go around sleeping with anyone and everything, practically convulsing at being in the same room as a woman.