Page 21 of Picture Perfect

The chill of the scale has barely left my skin when the door creaks open, announcing William's presence. Wrapped in a thin towel that does little to ward off the draft in the room, I stand there, bracing myself for his inspection.

"Let's see what you've picked out," he says, his voice devoid of warmth as his eyes sweep over me—calculating, assessing every inch.

"Right here," I reply, reaching for the hanger that holds the clothes Cheryl deemed appropriate for today's public spectacle. They consist of a form-fitting blouse and a pencil skirt—one size too small—a wardrobe designed to showcase the results of their relentless 'improvements'.

While maintaining my modesty. Obviously.

"Good. Get dressed."

I wait for him to leave, to give me privacy but he stands a silent sentinel. This time I don't back down. I can't. I will not dress myself in front of this man. Not now. Not ever.

He scoffs before giving me his back. I realize that's the best I will get and quickly dress, not dropping the towel until my skirt is on.

William turns to face me as I pull the blouse down to meet the skirt.

"Turn around," William commands, and I obey, feeling his gaze like hands tracing the outline of my body. He's searching for flaws in the fabric's embrace, any sign of rebellion in the seams.

"Seems like it fits the way it should," he remarks, and I detect a note of approval in his voice that makes my stomach turn. "Very... becoming."

"Thank you," I breathe out, the words ash on my tongue. My mind rages against his casual scrutiny, against the notion that my body is something to be dressed up and paraded for their satisfaction.

Inside, I’m screaming. On the outside? On the outside, I remain still, a statue carved from ice and expectation.

"Zip up," Cheryl orders, stepping forward and yanking on the closure. With a zip that sounds like a verdict being passed, I feel the garment pull tight against my skin, just another layer of confinement.

"It will do," Cheryl sneers. She places a hand on her husband's shoulder and leaves us alone in the room.

"Let's see just how obedient you are," William's voice turns cold, cold enough to burn. I stiffen but give no other sign that I'm worried for what's to come.

I try to keep the fear from showing on my face as he walks around me, his eyes never leaving my body. His hands examine every inch of my clothing, making sure there are no hidden zippers or slits that could reveal more skin. Making sure I'm not hiding more revealing clothing underneath so I can change once I get to school.

I try to stay still and not flinch under his touch, but it's a challenge. I try not to gag. Not to react.

"You really have mastered the art of obedience, haven't you?" William remarks with a smirk. "You've been well trained."

I want to say something, to defend myself against his mocking tone, but I know better. I keep my mouth shut and nod in agreement.

"Such a good girl," he says with fake praise. My stomach churns at the words and I feel bile rise in my throat. "I think it's time to earn back some of your privileges, would you like that?"

"I'll be good. I won't—"

Suddenly, his hand grips my chin and forces me to look into his cold gaze. "Remember your place here," he warns.

I nod again, feeling like a puppet on a string being controlled by this man.

"Now," he continues as he lets go of my face. "On your knees."

My heart is pounding in my chest as I comply. I look up at him, gripping the hem of my skirt to keep my hands from trembling. His cold eyes hold a commanding presence and I can't help but feel small and powerless in his presence. Helpless.

"Undo my belt," he orders, his voice dripping with authority. I hesitate, my mind racing with fear and disgust at the thought of what he wants me to do.

"I said undo it," he growls, gripping my hair punishingly. A whimper escapes my lips as pain shoots through my scalp.

I know there's no escape from this. No one to save me. I steel myself and reach out to undo the buckle, my fingers fumbling slightly.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes but I force them back, not wanting to show any more weakness than I already have. With shaking hands, I manage to do what he's asked.

"Now unzip me," William commands, loosening his grip.

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