Game Of Obedience

Ethan POV

“Pull off your clothes. Everything. Make sure there’s nothing left on you,” I said firmly.

The memory of that day at college burned through my mind—the slap, the insult, the way she had called me a pervert in front of everyone. I had sworn then that I’d make her pay. And now, watching her stand in front of me, nervous and vulnerable, I knew this was only the beginning.

Her eyes widened instantly, blinking too fast as if she couldn’t quite process what she had just heard. A crease formed between her brows, and her lips parted like she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. She looked down, fingers clutching the hem of her dress so tightly her knuckles turned pale. When her gaze lifted again, fear clouded her face, but beneath it was something else–a flicker of defiance, a stubbornness that hadn’t completely died.

Her voice trembled when she finally spoke.

“W-what? You can’t be serious… Why would you even ask me that? I just came here for a job.”

I leaned back in my chair, eyes never leaving hers.

“I don’t repeat myself. When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed the first time.”

A shaky laugh slipped past her lips, though it was laced more with fear than amusement.

“So this is your idea of an interview? Strip me first, then maybe give me the job? You really must enjoy humiliating people.”

“Then use the door,” I cut her off coldly, gesturing to it.

For a moment, she actually turned, ready to leave. But then she stopped. Slowly, she turned back toward me, her eyes locking onto mine with something unreadable. She hesitated, then stepped closer.

“Why are you still here?” I asked, arching a brow.

She swallowed hard before speaking.

“If I do it… will you give me five hundred dollars?”

A smirk tugged at my lips, though inside I felt a dark satisfaction rising.

So that’s it. She’s willing to sell herself for money. For just five hundred dollars.

Pathetic.

So cheap.

And exactly what I wanted.

“As I said earlier,” I replied, my tone low and mocking, “I don’t do charity. You’ve to earn it.”

I thought she was joking.

But then her trembling hands slid to the edge of her dress, and before I could second-guess her, the fabric began to fall. One piece at a time. Slow. Hesitant. Almost defiant.

My chest tightened. Damn. She was really doing it.

When the fabric slipped past her shoulders, my breath caught. She stood there—nervous, lips pressed together, eyes refusing to meet mine—but her body… her body told an entirely different story.

My gaze dragged over her–slow, deliberate. Her breasts were full, rising and falling with each nervous breath, the faint peaks of her nipples pressing through the thin lace that covered them. A thousand memories of anger burned away in an instant, replaced by a surge of raw hunger I hadn’t expected.

Her waist curved inward, leading to hips that flared in a way that made my throat tighten. Every inch of her looked sculpted to tempt me, to test me, to break the control I prided myself on.

I cursed silently. She was gorgeous. More than I expected. More than I was prepared for. The curves I’d imagined in anger now burned into reality before me, soft skin glowing against the dim light of the office.

For a moment, I just stared. Heat coursed through me, quick and sharp, tightening every muscle in my body. This wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It was supposed to be control, punishment, a reminder of who held the power here.

But seeing her standing there, vulnerable yet unbroken, stirred something darker. Something I wasn’t sure I could control.

“Beautiful,” I muttered under my breath before I could stop myself.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide, and for the first time that night, I saw it–a flicker of pride behind the fear. As if my slip had given her more power than my command.

I leaned back in my chair, forcing a smirk to mask the storm inside me.

“Didn’t think you’d actually do it,” I said slowly, my voice dropping lower, hungrier. “But now that you have… you’re going to regret offering yourself so cheap.”

Her lips parted slightly, a breath escaping, half shock, half something else. Something dangerous.

The tension between us thickened, pulling tighter with each second.

Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, her chin lifted just slightly, almost defiantly, even as her chest rose and fell faster with each second.

I let my gaze wander lower, deliberately slow, from the soft curve of her throat to the rise of her breasts. My breath deepened, harsher now. Her nipples tightened visibly under my stare, and I felt a heat coil in my gut like a live flame.

“Damn…” I muttered, half to myself. “You really have no idea what you’re playing with, do you?”

“You wanted five hundred dollars?” I whispered, my tone sharp, mocking, yet edged with something deeper, rawer.

“I'll give you the money if you can satisfy me”.