Practicing a scandal

12

Lola scrutinized the undergarments lain out on the bed in front of her. Usually she wouldn't be so hesitant in picking what she'd wear for a fuck, she'd always reasoned it was only going to end up on the floor anyway. But this time it was different. 

She was actually thinking about it. Tossing up, deciding. She wanted to choose the one that would cause him to crumble when he saw it. She wanted to watch those innocent chocolate eyes expand in size (they wouldn't be the only thing on his body that did that) and his lips part as his chest heaved lustful pants. She wanted to him to desire her. He'd touch her softly, like she was made of ceramic. He'd tell her she was so beautiful. He'd place butterfly kisses over the expanse of her milky flesh. 

He'd make her feel special. 

Not like an easy slut. 

Stupid. 

Lola ripped one of the sets off her bed, hurrying to put it on her naked body so she didn't have to choose anymore. 

She should've known out of all people not to fall for the 'princess treatment'. She should've known it was far too early for her mind to be trying to glue to the thought of him. 

Of course a guy that wanted to fuck her was going to treat her well. 

And then when he did, she'd watch as he tossed her away like a used condom and found some blonde, thinner woman. Especially with looks like his. She had no doubt he could and would do that. 

It had happened one too many times for the nagging voice in her head to be a simple precaution. 

Don't fall for it, Lola. 

 She pulled each clip of her garments into place and turned to look in the tall mirror beside her bed, gazing blankly at what she saw. They were beautiful. The bra was a perfect, pure pastel pink, embellished with gorgeous flowers as it not-so-innocently encased her full breasts in it's mesh fabric. The panties matched the bra in the angelic colour and scandalous fabric. The waistband circled Lola's hips in a garland of multicoloured flowers while the mesh fabric stretched over her trimmed crotch and pulled in to a string between her ass cheeks. 

To anyone else, she'd have looked like some sexy forest fairy with lush curves, but the mirror couldn't compete with her inner monologue. 

She looked like a fake, fat, slut.

"You think I liked you? You were just easy, Lola." 

"Maybe lose a few pounds." 

"Your whole personality is slut. Your body is slut. Everything about you is nothing more than a whore, sweetheart. Do you really think I'd  want to spend the rest of my life with some slut?"

"God sakes, Lola, cover up your boobs a bit. You're thirteen. You wouldn't want men to think you're a whore." 

"Sluts can't say no." 

Lola ruffled her hair in frustration, looking away from the mirror. Jungkook was nothing more than a client. She needed to stop putting him in the same, emotion filled puddle as everyone other man in her life. 

She was free to leave him, mentally. She didn't need to be there, in the moment, in the feeling. Her body just needed to be there for him to experiment on. 

She just needed to leave. 

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It was always awkward walking up to Jungkook's apartment. He was on the top floor of an incredibly posh penthouse, which meant Lola had to ride in the elevator with suit and tie clad men and women in order to get to his door. Their judgemental gazes raked over her body like nails in her skin. They made her feel small... and like she didn't belong there.