…but the projection of the woman was meek and subservient.
She’d worn a costume just like this one. I’d watched as the projections had got naked and started to kiss, but then I’d stopped the video and thrown it out. I hadn’t wanted to have my first experience with sex to be as shameful and lonely as watching a recording of two people fucking in front of me.
But now, years later, that experience has come back to haunt me.
Does Cyrus really expect me to wear this?
I guess I made it clear that I was only going to be working in the manor, and not joining their harem. With the amount of money they have, those three Aurelians probably didn’t really care if I cleaned or not – but I know Cyrus likes to play with me. He’s mischievous…
…and I’m not sure I dislike it.
I stare at the uniform, and I wonder if this is a test of whether I’ll obey them or not. My mind flashes back to the holographic pornography, and I wonder what I would look like in that woman’s place...
I can’t resist. I strip naked, and change. It’s not quite erotic, but it’s on the verge of being so…
One thing is for certain – this isn’t the plain, drab maid’s uniform I’d been used to wearing when I was working for those wealthy Sector 2 families.
There is a certain heat to it – the warmth of the silky black fabric and white satin trim. A certain scandalous dip between my breasts that reveals a hint of cleavage. The way the outfit clings to my curves and accentuates my body; stopping barely beneath my butt and revealing my legs.
This outfit wasn’t made only to be productive, but to entice whoever was watching you wear it.
Suddenly, the picture in my mind of that holo-vid changes. Instead of the meek woman, it’s me standing there…
…and instead of the man… it’s Cyrus. Huge, and dominant, he…
There’s a knock at the door. It startles me, and my cheeks burn red – as if whoever is on the other side of that doorway can read my thoughts.
My cheeks flush with the next rap against the door. The maid’s uniform feels even more wrong – even more dirty – as soon as the third knock lands on the exterior of the door.
When it was just me, completely alone, this was my little secret. It felt like an exploration of something I didn't quite understand…
Now, though, there’s someone outside the door, and from the weight of the knocks, I don't think it's one of the women from the harem.
Gods! I was literally just imagining being taken hard by one of the Aurelians, while wearing this slutty little costume, and then suddenly there’s one of the huge alien warriors on the other side of that door.
What was it Gallus had warned me?
Be careful what you wish for.
“Just a moment,” I yell out, frantically buying time. I’d already stripped out of the blue dress Sarah had picked out for me. I take a look at the old uniform – the one I’d worn when I’d been brought here. Somebody thoughtfully brought it to my room…
…whereas I’d probably have deposited it in the garbage.
But I can’t go back to wearing that sackcloth, can I? I can’t go back to the old me, before I ever met Gallus, Varian and Cyrus…
I stand up straight, my jaw hardening.
If I’m going to be working here, Cyrus made it very clear he expected me to wear this uniform on a daily basis. If so, I need to get used to it. I can’t give him the power of making me feel shameful, or embarrassed by the outfit, or the unspoken erotic promise it murmurs.
So, I smooth the front of the skirt and face the doorway. The uniform clings to my body in ways that make me feel more nude than if I’d been wearing nothing at all – and I’m not sure I hate the sensation.
This is so different to anything I’ve ever worn before, except perhaps the blue dress Sarah had urged me to wriggle into. Instead of clothes hiding my body, like the ones I’ve always worn, this sexy uniform accentuates every inch of my curves.
There’s no more knocking on my door… But the presence of that figure outside lingers.
They’re waiting.
“Come in,” I say, my voice calmer. The doorknob turns. It’s an old style of door, with a real handle instead of one of those automated sliding ones you’ll find in spaceships and most of the other chambers on these Aurelians’ property.
The door opens and Cyrus stands in front of me.
I shiver. Damn you.
He’s clad in his traditional toga, and one half of his broad chest is exposed to me. I wonder how it would feel to run my hand down that massive, sculpted, muscled chest. How would it be to feel his heartbeat beneath that marble skin and slab-like muscle.
Would it beat sure, slow, and steady?
Or would it speed up at my touch?
I look down, unable to meet Cyrus’s hungry, slate-grey eyes.
His voice rumbles, and I feel it in my ribcage.
“You look as delicious as I’d imagined you would, when I ordered this outfit for you.”
I snort.
"It's preposterous. You chose a ridiculous outfit for me…” I lift my eyes. “But I can see practicality was the least of your concerns.”
Cyrus steps forward, into the room, and although he owns the house itself, it feels like an intrusion into my private space.
My mouth goes dry. I’m not sure it’s an unwanted intrusion.
"Ridiculous? Preposterous?” Cyrus smirks. “And yet, you put in on.”
Dammit!
He has me there.
If I’d really thought it was such a joke, I would never have been tempted to try it on. He can’t know my history, or that the only time I’ve come close to
