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12: Maid

I stare at the outfit in my arms. It's a black and red dress, with a tight-laced top and frilly skirt. As I lay it on the bed, a pair of thin leggings fall out of it.

A "maid." That's what he wants me to dress up as. It's a term I hadn't heard in my village. "Maiden" was sometimes used, but that was to refer to a young Vyenn girl and not...a servant. In Vylek's case, it feels like the term "maid" has a stigma attached to it; one that is very scary.

I'd hate to be Vylek's maid.

It makes me wonder even more how all of the girls under his care are doing. If he does half of what he insinuates doing to them...I can't imagine how awful that must be.

I clasp the silky fabric of the maid outfit in my hands. 

Does Master Synn really want me to wear this? Does this mark the start of something new; a future where I do all of Master Synn's chores and do pleasuring things for him? I purse my lips and change clothes. A gulp trembles down my throat. What would that kind of life be like? 

I knew my stay here had been too pleasant. I should have known there would be strings attached like this. I did know, but I just wasn't sure what they would be. Apparently Master Synn didn't know, either.

But...it's not like I have any choice. I'm stuck here. There's no way out if I don't play by his rules. There will be a way out. I just have to keep up this facade a little longer. And, hopefully, nothing terrible will happen in the meantime.

I reluctantly pull the outfit on.

I look down at my new attire. The dress laces down to size and clings tight against my body, revealing much more of my skin than I feel comfortable with. The leggings stretch, too, but I notice they're ripped down the inside near more sensitive areas.

I shudder. Were these pre-worn or are all of the maid outfits torn like this? Is it for...? 

I feel nauseous.

Not to mention, I probably look ludicrous. There were no dresses in my home village, no shown pieces of skin, and no frills or tight laces. I feel like a human toy; made to wear whatever my owner wants.

I suppose it's only a small taste of how Fexen treats "his girls" on a regular basis.

Sinking back into my bed and laying on my belly, I immerse myself with coloring, to try to ignore my new outfit.

Still, the frills of my skirt slip across my legs as I move them, the silky fabric grips tight to areas of my body that have never been held tightly before, and an uncomfortable breeze rushes across the area of skin exposed by the slit stockings.

It feels very hard to ignore my new attire, no matter how hard I try.

Why did Master Synn decide to let me wear this? Did he think my old rags were dirty, un-feminine, or unappealing? Did he think they looked scratchy or uncomfortable and thought the silk and skirts would feel better? Did he know how revealing this would be, or that it would be cut in... inappropriate areas?

When my bedroom door opens and Master Synn slips inside with a platter of food, he glances over at me and pauses. His mouth hangs agape for a moment before he closes it, and his eyes take in my body hungrily before he tears them away.

My face could not be redder. I couldn't have expected the rush of feelings blooming in my chest from seeing Master Synn see me.

I feel embarrassed, vulnerable, submissive, and bare before him. And although I feel terrified, in a way I feel...flattered. Something about the primal way Master Synn looked at me - even though it was only for a brief moment - sparks a feeling in me I've never experienced.

"What...do you think of the clothing?" I feel pressured to break the silence. Master Synn sets the platter on the dresser, still doing his best to not look at me.

"I'm...sure it isn't comfortable. I'll buy you better dresses soon." He exhales, staring down at the basin. I haven't drunk much from it, but he fixes his gaze on it for a long time.

"Did you know the leggings are...s-slit? In...a certain area?" I burst out.

Master Synn pales.

"Take those off. You don't need to..." He shakes his head, rubbing his temple. "Ugh, Fexen..."

"Right now?" A tinge of fear seeps into my voice. Or is it excitement?

"Yes." Master Synn averts his gaze but, before I undress, I move purposely into his peripheral.

I don't know why I do it. Part of me just can't help myself. It's not just to get on his good side. Part of me wants to be seen by Master Synn. Part of me wants to be loved in the way Meben never wanted to love me. Could...Master Synn give me that?

I tug up the ruffled bottom of my dress and grab the waistband of the leggings, pulling them down slowly. Master Synn's chest rises and falls faster than usual, and he bites his bottom lip, still only looking at me in his peripheral.

"Are you purposely doing that, slave girl?" His voice is a low growl again, and it almost startles me that he'd speak. I let the leggings pool on the floor beneath me, then pull my dress down, picking them up and walking over to hand them to Master Synn.

His white eyes look clouded as I give him the stockings. I'm not even certain how to answer him. I don't know what prompted me to pull my dress up and move to where he could see me. All I know is that I wanted Master Synn to see.

His fingertips clench the stockings and for a moment he looks angry. He closes his eyes, draws in a deep breath, and moves closer into my proximity. Not only could we easily touch each other, but we already almost are touching at the chest.

I wonder if he's going to make me do the things now. I wonder why I provoked him. I feel like I don't even know myself after meeting Master Synn. How much can one attractive man incite a girl to do wild and crazy things like this?

Maybe this is why the girls in my village always hung off Meben's arms and rubbed their chests against him. Perhaps they couldn't help it. Perhaps that's what I want to do to Master Synn.

I do it. The dress is low cut enough that my bare skin rubs against Master Synn's thin shirt. He jerks back, backpedaling nearly halfway across the room, and also closing the door behind him without a word.

What am I doing?! I didn't have to do any of that. WHY did I DO that?

I feel more clear-headed the moment he leaves. I don't know what prompted me to throw myself at him like that, but I'm playing with fire by doing so. If he wanted to, he could do anything to me, as much as he wanted.

And it looked like I made him want to.