Arabella
"Put it on. Now." Mr. Styles voice was laced with authority, his once sparkling emerald eyes now dangerously dark. My knees wobble at the sight of him holding such supremacy over me. It was intimidating.
"O-ok. I'll go change in your bathroom." This displeases Mr. Styles greatly, for reasons I'm unsure of. Where else would I change into this unusual outfit?
"Put it on, right here. In front of me." Mr. Styles demands in a low tone. He watches me, as a predator would watch their prey, awaiting any movement.
I don't know if I'm entirely comfortable doing this. I've never shown off my body to anyone, really because, I'm not proud of it. I don't have curves or looks like a model, I'm just me. Plain, ordinary, unattractive me.
"Mr. Styles, with all do respect, I am not completely content with the idea of changing in front of you. I mean, look at me. I'm not much."
Mr. Styles forcefully grabs my jaw, causing me to whimper. He's vexed, his harsh grip on me easily showing.
"Don't you ever, degrade yourself in front of me or dare go against my orders. Change. Now." He barked, removing his hand from my face to cross both over his chest.
That was peculiar. He seems quite interested in seeing me wear this get up. I look over at Mr. Styles to see him watching me, waiting expectantly.
The black and white set resembles something a French maid would wear, just a bit less in the amount of clothing. I turn around to remove my top and blazer, but Mr. Styles growls in annoyance.
"Turn back around." His thick accent commands.
I slowly spin my body around, more than embarrassed. The plaid blazer peels off my body, neatly being folded and placed on the floor.
I untuck my white polo from my skirt, separating the translucent buttons from the top to better take it off. Trembling hands lift up the shirt, revealing my baby blue bra. It's so simple and plain, my face flushes in embarrassment.
"F*ck." Mr. Styles grunts, followed by a string of curses. This has to be the most uncomfortable position I've ever found myself in, while Mr. Styles seems to be having the time of his life.
"Continue on. You must also- shit- take off your bra."
No, no no. I surely can not do that. Maybe for Mr. Styles this is pleasing, but as for me, not so much.
I sharply inhale before bending my elbow joints backwards, blindly feeling for my bra clip. My small hands hesitantly unclasp the hooks, not letting go immediately. I muster up the strength to release, and the bra instantly falls to the floor.
I feel my cheeks heat up in redness. Mr. Styles growls and groans once my top under clothing is peeled off my body, leaving my upper chest completely bare. This is far beyond my comfort zone.
I momentarily open my eyes to question Mr. Styles, only to discover his eyes glued to my breasts. Sweat covers his toned face and he seems out of oxygen.
"Mr. Styles, are you doing well? You don't look like you are." I worriedly ask, my eyebrows knotted together.
"I'm alright, sh*t." Mr. Styles barely manages to breathe, actually leading me to believe he's anything but.
I cautiously take baby steps towards him, not wanting his current state to get any worse. Thoughtlessly, I bend over in front of him while placing my hands on his forehead.
"Are you okay?" Our eyes connect as I ask.
Mr. Styles pauses for a moment, turning his head. His breathing gradually slows, which somewhat calms me. Did I do something to upset him again? I really am lost by his actions.
I suddenly feel pressure applied on the nape of my neck, pushing me on top of Mr. Styles. Instantly, he flips our positions over, me now under his built frame as he hovers over me. His hot breath fans my face, making me squirm uncomfortably. The fact that my breasts are on full display, only adds on to my displeasure.
"I've been wanting to do this for so long, baby girl."
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I HAD TO END IT IN A CLIFF I'M SORRY
I was thinking about changing the name and description of purity to more around the maid thing but idk
I'm out and I'll update soon, it will be thorough and long wink wink
