Getting Dressed (F/M)

*Which snap to use?*  The metal rivets are cold on my neck.

*The farthest feels too tight.  Isn’t it supposed to be tight?*  The leather band cuts into my skin ever so slightly.

*The middle is too loose.  Farthest it is, I suppose.*  I try to take a deep breath in and can feel the collar restricting me.

*Fuck, that looks ridiculous.*  The mirror in front of me reflects all my favourite insecurities.  

*Ok hair, work with me here.  What are you doing?*  I run my hand along the back of my neck and pull strands of dark pink and boring brown hair out from under the choker and gather it to one side.

*The shape is cute.  He’ll like it, I hope.  Matches the nose ring.*  The first thought I am confident in and a smile shows up in the mirror.

*The ears are kinda pointy.*  My fingers trace the metal outline of a cat and I feel my thighs get warm.

*Ok so what else are we doing here?*  I unwrap and rewrap the towel around my body, slightly tighter, while walking to the bed.

*Anything goes with black, right?  But what would he prefer…and what if its too matchy-matchy?*  My anxiety starts to seep in and I close my eyes for a minute.

*Breathe.  It may not even matter.*  I bring my left hand to my face and rub my bottom lip with my thumb.

*Yeah true.  He might just like…hug me good night…. and ever see any of this.*  I glance to the mirror behind me, seeing my bare legs, still dewy from the shower. 

*What do I do if he just..hugs me?*  My phone chimes and my pavlovian heart beats faster. 

*How does a simple sound do so many things to me?*  I reach for my phone and my fingers move on their own.

*Can’t wait to see you tonight, Kitten **kissy face**  Hope you’re well rested **devil emoji***  

*Yeah, there’s no way he just fucking hugs me.*  My nerves go from anxious to excited and the difference makes my chest swell and my neck remembers the collar.

*Me either, Master.  **Angel Emoji**  Why am I so nervous?*   I love how easy it is to share insecurities.  To know that he knows.

*Should I ask him to pick a color, or is that too obvious?*  Emerald.  Black.  Hot Pink.  Lace, and ties, and straps, and clasps, and zippers.

*No, he likes surprises…*  I scan each option, playing out scenarios with each.

*Would you kiss my shoulder while your hands slowly undid each tie?  Will those ties show through the dress?*  The dress hung on the back of my closet door was too tight to be forgiving.

*Simple might be better.  Something, something…nautical knots…*  I pick up one top, held together by long straps of fabric, some tied, some untied.

*Yeah, and all that would be too noticeable anyway…*  I toss the complicated top and matching accessories to the side, picking up the more simple corset.

*What if…* I turn to the mirror and hold the top up against me.

*What if it’s too boring?  What if I’m too boring?  I have a cat collar on and I am worried I might bore him.*  My plain reflection unnerves me.

*Is this the part I start overthinking?  How do I… am I over thinking now?  Overthinking about overthinking…* I close my eyes and your face pops into view.

*I love your little hair flair things.  I just wanna comb through it with fingers as you try to pull away, laughing, telling me we are going to be late to some imaginary requirement.*  I bite the side of my bottom lip to keep from smiling.

*Fuck, am I gonna be late?  What time did we say again?*  I undo the line of tiny hooks, dropping my towel to the floor in the process, and wrap the short bustier around me. 

*Ok, just get dressed.  Who gives a shit what you look like, right?*  A silky ivory fabric and thin boning make up the structure, while a tight-knit black lace covers the entire piece, adding detail and creating a much darker look.  

*So thankful this actually holds everything up without fucking straps.*  The half corset was thin enough to go unnoticed and fairly comfortable. 

*Ok, why is this such a pain to put on?  “Life is pain! Anyone who says otherwise…”*   The tiny hooks are hard to find and my fingers struggle to connect them all.

*At least I’ll have help taking it off.*  I connect the last hook to its loop and shake my hands at my side.

*And now for the pièce de résistance…*  I pick up the matching lace thong and step into it.

*Why are bras so complicated and thongs so…not?  It’s because men wear underwear…if they didn’t, I bet ours would be even more uncomfortable…*  I run my finger under the inch-wide lace band and flatten it against my skin.

*But I like complicated.*  The matching garter belt clips easily around my waist, its scalloped edges showing off the skin above my thong.  Four garters hang loosely, positioned on the front and back of each thigh. 

*Obviously.*  I unwrap the thigh-high stocking set and bunch one up in my hands.

*Complicated can be… fun.*  Freshly manicured toes travel to the bottom of the fishnet, art deco patterned stockings, with a thin but noticeable back seam.

*Although, if it is taking me this long to get dressed…*  The stockings lay flat to my upper thigh, a band of silicone and elastic holding them in place.  I clip the garter onto the top of it anyway.

*Then I hope he enjoys undressing…unwrapping me.  A little present for Master.*  I step into and clip on the second stocking.  The woman in the mirror looks expensive, albeit hirable. 

*Fuck me, that looks like it’s too much.  Am I trying too hard?*  I stare blankly, debating.  My phone chimes again and I nearly jump.

*You can be nervous, scared, anxious.  Just know as soon as I see you, get to hold you, all of that will go away.  Or maybe it will morph into something more…positive.  Master will take good care of his little thing.*

*Well fuck, now I’m getting my perfectly new thong all wet.*  I read his message a few more times, feeling my thighs shiver.

*Ok, dress time.*  I pick up the dark green, slim-fitting, cocktail length dress and slip it over my head and arms.  I make a bow of the attached necktie so my cat collar remains purrfectly hidden and look for my black velvet, ankle boot heels.

*You can’t even see anything underneath.*  I run my hands along the sides of the dress, flattening it against the garter belt and corset.  The dress lays tight but breathable under my hands.  My phone chimes again.

*Be a good girl and don’t be late.  Tardiness requires punishment.*

*Oh fuck, I’m late.*

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/q6x3ij/getting_dressed_fm

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