This story will not be continued. Refer to the chapter called "Author Note".
A young twenty five year old Klaire Higgins decided to travel to Europe. Something she had wanted to do her whole life. However, she didn't expect it to go as south as it...
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Please refer to the previous 'chapter', Author Note. Also, this may seem like it's not complete, it is not complete. Again please refer to the Author Note.
Klaire got quiet as she contemplated this surreal and honestly fucked up train of thought.
Mr. Franklin had run off to work, leaving her locked in his preverbal tower. With his feral beast, who was currently sleeping on top of a bookcase in the living room.
As the breakfast ended, she mentioned the clothes issue and he said he'd take care of it when he came home in a few hours. In the meantime, she could make him a list. He called it her 'homework' of the day.
How very Daddy Dom of him, she thought. He had even pulled out lined paper and a pen for her. Seeming to be quite serious on the list making.
Wanting to put down a few good bras but she decided not to. Not yet because that needed to be an in-person conversation. Putting down a variety of other things with the size of what she normally would get them in.
Loungewear like joggers, leggings, and baggy clothes were high on the list. She described her daily style as more corporate goth than anything else. Goth anything, honestly is what she should write but she figured that he'd get lost with such a general term.
As much as she liked the green dress from the night before. It was a bit too girly and feminine for her taste.
Honestly, most of the dresses in this closet were like that. Though a few leaned into her more 'Little' demeanor, she'd never tell him that.
As a size test, she decided to try on most of the dresses to see how they fit. Most were okay but not flattering for her body shape. Others were definitely too tight in parts that most skinny people didn't have. She ended up sorting all the clothes into; doesn't fit, fits but doesn't like it and fits likes it.
As she gutted the walk-in closet. There was one garment that was zipped up in a clothes bag. She thought it was odd because it was pushed into the corner of the rack.
Pulling down the long zipper, being greeted with glittering black. Tugging the tab down more she realized that it was a floor length gown. There were no tags on the back of the dress.
Pulling the dress out of the bag, it looked to be body-con but gently flared at the bottom. Honestly, it reminded her strongly of a Morticia dress but dial the fancy and expensive to the max. Shifting the dress under the light, it seemed to dazzle like the night sky with no light pollution. Though, thankfully when she looked at her hands, there was no glitter residue. She loved dresses with sparkle, but she hated that they left glitter everywhere. So, she never could enjoy them.
