Charli
I stared nervously at the full-length mirror in our dressing room. When I'd opened the large box that had arrived earlier in the day, I gasped, shocked at the dress Nox had ordered. It wasn't the dress itself. It was beautiful: direct from Saks Fifth Avenue with a designer tag. What surprised me was the color.
Red. Bright candy-apple red. Bring-traffic-to-a-screeching-halt red. I had to wonder if it was some kind of play on the skater dress I'd purchased months ago.
If it were, I didn't believe he'd selected this one to make me look like a whore. The red dress I removed from the box was classy and would cover me in all the right places. Nevertheless, I'd searched the box and accompanying bags for a gold armband, like the one I wore that night but found none. As I looked from bag to bag, I also didn't find a bra or panties. There was, however, a black lace garter belt and accompanying lace-top stockings.