Painfully yours

Insecure.

Arya's P.O.V.
_________

WHAT . THE . FUCK.

A huge dark cloud over my vision. I stared at myself in the mirror, feeling the sweat slowly forming on my forehead and my breath becoming erratic. My lips trembled as I watched my reflection, my mind filled with a mix of excitement and anxiety. With trembling hands, I slowly began to remove my clothes, one layer at a time. My jacket and shorts fell to the floor, leaving me standing there in anticipation. I took off my bra and stared at my nipples. Biting my lips as I reminisced each slap. The sting. The tingle. I witnessed my nipple erect.

Lolita

My nipples ached. To stand out more. My areola crinkled as my nipple begged.

Enticing

Goosebumps rode me mercilessly making my skin itch and .It physically hurt to breathe. My nipples could fall off from the ache.

Nymphette.

My clit throbbed . My walls slimed. A weird swirl of tickle went up my smile leaving my nape in an itchy sensation.

Tart.

My pussy pulsated.

I breathed as I touched my tender breast and grazed it to soothe it. It hurt to be touched so softly. I needed to .. I pinched my nibs as my head fell down , shutting my eyes and biting my lips.

"Uh" it wasn't enough. I hugged myself in attempt to soothe it. My pussy horribly drenched to the point something drizzled down the inside of my thighs .My forehead and armpits trickled with sweat. Not just there. I was sweaty in my thighs and my back and my neck and it all got too much! I felt dirty and disgusting.

That's what he called me. Lolita. Nymphette. Tart. Which is but of course nothing but disgusting! How dare he.

My legs were shivering, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions coursing through me. I needed a moment to collect myself, so I took a seat on the edge of the bathtub, my mind lost in a sea of thoughts. Thinking about how he described me again and again ,I sat there, my fingers absentmindedly played with the personal care items that were scattered on the rim of the tub, a sign of the chaos inside me.

Finally, I mustered the courage to step into the foamy water, embracing the warmth that enveloped my body. The act of bathing became a form of therapy, a way to cleanse not just my physical self, but also my troubled mind. Lost in thought, I let the water wash away the trauma that had haunted me, even if only for a little while.

After thoroughly cleaning myself, I wrapped myself in a fluffy ritz bathrobe and made my way back to the sink. With the Dyson wand in hand, I air wrapped the volume and soft curls to my hair. The length, which usually cascaded down to my hips, now fell a few inches above my waist. It was a small change but I felt like making a big one .

As I began to apply my makeup, I wasn't quite sure what look I wanted to achieve. But as I went through the familiar steps, my subconscious guided me. I found myself creating a dark, smoky eye and a bold red lip, reflecting the intensity and passion that I felt deep within. It was a look that spoke volumes about the emotions I had been holding inside and I don't know what it was.

Frustrated with my own behavior, I walked towards the cupboard where my clothes were neatly folded by the room service. I scanned through the options, my mind racing with thoughts of Xavier and the need to avoid any misinterpretations. In an attempt to ward off any wrong notions, I decided to opt for pants instead of a skirt after wearing my under garments.

I picked up a top and made my way towards the mirror. As I held it up, my heart skipped a beat when I saw the paper bag that had the top that Xavier had handed me earlier. It was as if a surge of electricity coursed through my body, making me hesitate. My eyes were drawn to the paper bag that contained the top, and I reached for it with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.