17.5: Fairy Godmother

“Alright, can I take this off now?”
“Not yet!” Milly’s voice bounced from somewhere to his right. “It’s not quite… Okay! Now you can.”

Reaching behind himself, he untied the blindfold and let it fall into his lap as he stared. His eyebrows vanishing behind his bangs, he couldn’t help but let his mouth fall open.

Her eyes fluttered, contrasting the dark makeup with her bright eyes. Nervously, she stood unsurely as she waited for him to say something. His eyes ran over her lace crop top, her small waist and exposed middle, and then those skin-tight leather pants that could barely contain her curves. Taken aback, Lelouch could only gape at her metamorphosis.

“The product of a $300 shopping spree. What do you think, Lelouch? Do you like how much of a bad girl she’s become?”

Milly watched him carefully as he sat up properly and cleared his throat. Crossing his legs and arms, and then uncrossing them, only to cross them again, he opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, only to say, “I think it’s wonderful.”

“Only wonderful?”
“Well, Milly, I would be more than happy to say more if you’d be so kind as to leave.”

He looked at her pointedly. Raising her hands, she backed away towards the door. “Of course. I’m so sorry. The fairy godmother will make herself scarce. C.C.”

C.C.’s head snapped up at her friend’s voice.

“You look hot. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Out, Milly,” he warned.

It was quiet and still in the room even after the door closed behind her. The model tried her best to smile, but all she could do was blush under his scrutiny until there was little more she could take.

“Just say something already.”

But he didn’t. Even when he finally stood up and crossed the room and came to stand right in front of her, he didn’t say anything. It was only after he had finished ruining the $300-and-three-hour-effort that he spoke.

“You didn’t need to do all that for me. But thank you for doing it anyway.”
“I was pretty sexy, wasn’t I?”
“I think that’s the understatement of the millennia.”

She peered at the clothes scattered all over the floor. Remembering the past hour – her smeared lipstick, the small, red crescents marking his back – she flushed. It was a good thing he had better self-control than she did because if she had had her way, they probably would have done something completely and utterly irreversible. Pleasurable, but regrettable.

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