A protocol to kneel. That was all. A simple command, nothing more. And yet, a flicker of hesitation—the smallest defiance—had sealed my fate. A furrowed brow, a glance to the side, the weight of my pride pressing against my obedience. That was all it took.
Strip." Blunt. Uninterested. Not even a command worth emphasizing. Just an expectation. It wasn’t a surprise. Naked bodies had filled the room since the moment of my arrival. Flesh was nothing here, no more sacred than the stone beneath our feet. But I—I had never been made to endure this particular humiliation. Not until now.
I said nothing. My eyes darted around the room, catching the smirks of the other servants. The obedient pet—Mistress’s little favorite—was now one of them. I hesitated no longer. My fingers moved, slow but sure, undoing the small pieces of fabric that barely counted as clothing to begin with. A scrap of black lingerie, once allowed, now taken. And then, nothing. Nothing but golden heels, the only piece I was permitted to keep.
Mistress’s gaze burned into me. I felt the heat—not just from her, but from everything. The walls, the floor, the air itself radiated with her. My body, small and delicate, stood exposed before her, before the others—before them. My breasts, pert and bare, were nothing next to hers. My frame, petite and fragile, was insignificant beneath her towering, seductive presence. She sipped from her glass of port, unbothered, untouched by my humiliation. Another servant fanned her lazily as she drank, watching me with no more urgency than she would a passing amusement.
I felt the stares. I felt them—dozens of unseen eyes creeping over my skin, stripping me further, dragging heat into my cheeks until I knew, without seeing, that I was blushing furiously. But there was no place to hide. No corner, no veil, no escape. And Mistress? She saw. She saw everything. "Hm. You didn’t want to kneel. Fine—stay standing."
The words cut. My weight shifted on my heels, pressing uncomfortably against the ground, pushing into me. There were slaves at her feet already, nestled in the spot I had loved—the spot I now ached for. Their place, once mine, was filled. And I? I was exposed, humiliated, made to stand—put on display, not for worship, but for ridicule.