Mistress's Good Boy (BWWM)

Chapter 9

The clothes Noma provides aren't particularly for "comfortable everyday attire". It's mostly made up of long skirts, silken dresses, and bell-bottomed dress pants. I guess her tops look the tamest. Noma is propped on the white sheets of the bed sifting through the pile of clothes, giving her expertise input.

"Oh, oh, oh, you should wear this!" She dangles the sleek pants in front of me and then scoops up a white shirt.

"This is an off the shoulder blouse, when I wear it I tuck it into the pants and secure it by a belt." She skims over the shirt, head softly bobbing. Not long after she presses the shirt into my hands. Smoothing my fingers down the cool material makes me shift in my spot.

"I'll go and see if I have any belts, and some accessories to complete the look. I have these beautiful golden soutache earrings. Oh! And I have a belt that matches them, almost like a pair. Hmm, but—" She slowly drags the shirt from my palms and scoots off the bed, tapping her finger to her cheekbone.

"Black goes better with gold," She holds her index finger up and exits the room again leaving me watching the empty doorway. I press my feet into the plush carpet and round the bed towards the door. I try to look out into the hall. As soon as I peek my head out, Noma decides to return bumping into my body sending me sprawled to the ground. She giggles grabbing onto my arm to help me to my feet. Her grip is tight and the strength she uses to right my stance leaves me cocking my head in question.

"Rosalita look what I've brought back," She hands over the shirt and I lie it against the bed. It's a black shirt this time. Sheer in its long-sleeves, hell it's sheer all over except for the assumed breast area. The collar is plunged, and it crisscrosses the material at the bottom of the V. I turn back to Noma and she hands over a belt, black and about an inch wide with a double golden buckle. She also hands over the earrings and places a pair of black heels on the ground. I look down at them and choke. Literally, choke.

"Tom Ford!" I move my feet away from the heels as if they're cursed and trip onto the bed.

"Oh, hush I got them on sale," She steps over the shoes and motions for me to stand up. I give her a crooked look but stand none the less. "Now, chop, chop. The sooner you get dressed the sooner I can show you around." She grips onto the bottom of my t-shirt and doesn't waste any time in yanking it over my head. I immediately feel the cool air brush against my bare nipples, and I know there's a look of mortification sinking into the muscles of my face. I cross my arms over my chest trying to get my mouth to move and say something, but I fail miserably to do so.

"It's okay, we're both women here, nothing I haven't seen before." She walks around me to the other side of the bed to pick up the pair of dress pants. While she's on that side I slip the black shirt over my head feeling the sheer material drag uncomfortably over my skin. Once it is settled in the right place the discomfort is gone. The shirt is tight, tighter then I'd be comfortable with, but the thought of changing makes me cringe. So, I push through the feeling of constriction and take the pants from Noma. They slip up and over my thighs easily because of the excess space in the legs, and the waist portion ends right above my navel.

"I know that probably made you uncomfortable especially since we're like acquainted strangers, but for the sake of your stay here. You're gonna have to get used to it hun. If it makes you feel better, no one judges in this household. Whether that be on the body, the preference, or the kink." I loop the belt and hook the buckles together, it sits as a firm steady weight around my torso.

"Do I have to scene with clients? Won't I have a choice on the matter?" Noma kneels in front of me taking hold of my left foot to slide the heel on. It fits perfectly and maybe that's a sign in its own way.