20. Sable
SABLE
Shock ripples through me along with fear, embarrassment, and deep-seated thoughts about the imperfections of my body.
My mother loved me, but part of her affection was evident in her tendency to pick apart my appearance.
I was always beautiful enough, but I could never be thin enough.
I know what she wanted of me wasn’t healthy, but it’s hard to remember that when something doesn’t fit.
Old pain and new humiliation war, but I don’t let any of that show on my face and just hold my composure.
“You made this?” I ask.
“Obviously, do you need help inside or not?” He's perfectly serious, and somehow that makes the situation even more bewildering.
“That’s not going to fit me, whether or not you help.” I swallow hard. This changes the dynamic between us. It was hard enough when he was just massive, gorgeous, and technically in charge of me. Adding a layer of awe for his skill wasn’t fair.
“Strip or I’ll do it myself and walk you out on that stage naked.
” There isn’t an ounce of kidding in his eyes, and I know he’ll enjoy doing it too.
Everything is a performance for this guy.
My anger rises, but my fascination grows instead of fading.
Of course, he’s an asshole too, but that’s not enough to turn me off.
I swallow hard and stare him in the eyes, like it will make a difference if I refuse him.
His hard stare tells me it won’t, and eventually, I strip down into nothing but my thong simply to avoid challenging him any longer. I know damn well this isn’t the type of outfit that allows a bra. His eyes rove over me, and even though he’s seen it all already, my skin blotches with nervous heat.
“I should parade you out there just like this. You’re better than the dress.
” I’m not sure if Orion’s being cruel or kind, and I’m torn once again.
He’s threatening, and I’m a little afraid of him, but that’s one hell of a compliment if you choose to take it as such.
He kneels in front of me further, throwing my sense of reality out of whack.
Before I can lose my balance, he grabs me by my hips and studies me.
With his hands still around me, I step inside.
With some force and a few scratches, he manages to get it over my hips.
But no matter how hard he shoves, there just isn’t enough fabric to cover my body.
Orion manages to get the fabric over my nipples, but that’s the most I can say for the fit.
The full-length mirror forces me to watch the whole scene as he roughly stuffs me inside.
My mother’s voice plays in my head, and I know exactly what she would say about me in this outfit.
It’s too bad. You can make something so expensive look so cheap.
My tits pop obscenely out of the top, and my skin burns all over as if there are already eyes on me, but not even Orion is looking at the moment. He’s too focused on the corset back.
My round ass hangs out almost to the bottom of the pearls, and they flirt with my cheeks, tickling and chilling. The only part that really works for me is the waist, and Orion cinches it far tighter than he needs to, leaving me looking even more stuffed in.
“Why would you make the dress this size and not have a model for it?” I ask because I do my damnedest to breathe.
“I assumed they wouldn’t send us an Offering with a fat fucking ass.
” His words are so similar to my mother's, they stab me straight in the heart. The tear forms on my lashes, and I blink it away. I don’t need to worry about him noticing because his eyes are on my back.
His hand raises, and he spanks my fat fucking ass.
My gaze shifts, and I catch his hungry expression in the mirror.
His obvious delight is the only thing that keeps me together.
He kneels again to put my shoes on, but it doesn’t have the same effect as earlier since I am feeling so exposed and worthless. They are the perfect size, and I don’t understand how he could know this, but not that I can’t fit in a size two.
“Let’s go. Professor Delaney isn’t patient.”
He starts walking immediately, forcing me to follow him. I can walk in skyscraper heels, but it’s obvious right now that I’m out of practice as my ankle wobbles. He opens the door that leads back out to the class, and their murmurs float back, a frenetic excitement that makes me want to run.
“What am I supposed to do?” I ask. I don’t care about him or his project, but I’d rather not add to my own long list of public humiliations.
“Well, don’t fall and don’t look stupid.” He cocks his head to the side. “It’s too late for you not to look like a whore.”
“How about some actual instructions?” Panic fills my chest. I understand that he wants to have his fun, but maybe he could actually help me for the sake of his grade. “Please,” I beg, hating myself for it.
“Follow my lead.” With that, he plasters on a huge fake smile and heads up onto the stage.
It takes a full minute before I follow him up the steps.
When I refuse to walk to the center stage, he tugs my arm until I’m standing exactly where he wants.
My legs unlock, but I can’t seem to manage his giant smile while on display like I’m at a meat market.
The titter of laughter passes through the crowd, and I feel it in my bones as well as hear it.
I look hot as hell, there’s no question about that, as Orion shoots me another combustible look, but that doesn’t count for too much when everyone knows I’m his whore.
Hot is about the only thing I’m actually expected to be.
He walks out to the end of the runway, and I follow, hating every step that brings me into their focus.
He turns my body positioning, my hips, until I’m standing exactly how he wants, then leaves me there.
Orion pulls a chalkboard on wheels up from the rear edge of the stage and centers it immediately next to me.
Finally, he pulls a tape measure out of his pocket.
“What’s going on, Mr. Rook?” the professor asks, clearly annoyed with his antics.
“My presentation is going to be a little different from what I expected.” His sad tone scares me.
The professor stares him down like everything about him offends her, but she doesn’t argue.
He takes the tape measure and starts with my waist. His hands are rough and dehumanizing as he reads out the number and tuts.
He writes it on the board, and the giggles and whispers build.
He measures my ass next, which I’ve always been self-conscious about.
Did you have to get my mother's ass? my own dead mother’s voice asks.
Orion puts that number on the board, too. Back at my side, he slaps my arm until I lift them both, and he measures all three bust measurements, fingers trailing hotly over my nipples and the exposed swells of skin.
“So what’s your point here, Mr. Rook? Other than turning my class into a three-ring circus.”
I’m hot all over, embarrassed, uncomfortable, but oddly alive, similar to how I felt last night. Orion goes to the board, ignoring the professor as he writes his final number.
“In conclusion, Sable has a fat ass, and a fat set of tits, and that’s how she fucked up my final project.” Full-blown laughs break out now, and I’m red from both sets of cheeks to the top of my tits.
“How did Sable mess up your project?” his professor asks, staring at him like a disappointment. “It’s not hers.” She eyes me like I’m just as much of a letdown as a model as he is as a student, and I know I am.
“I was expecting someone more worthy of the runway to wear it, obviously .” He shoots me a disparaging look, and everyone laughs.
“If you want any hope of passing this class, show me how you would fix it.”
Orion moves to my side, pulling, poking, prodding, and eventually pinching as he explains to everyone how and what he would add to be able to keep me inside this dress.
Apparently, it would take a lot of work.
Which is no surprise, given how much of me is hanging out.
He’s nearly done when he grabs an ass cheek in each hand and squeezes.
“Great to hang onto when your fucking but hard to dress for high fashion.” His fingers dig in, and he crudely spreads me for the audience. An actual tear runs down my cheek. Luckily for me, the lights are hot, and it dries before the hungry vipers have a chance to notice.