Sinful Dress Novels & Stories

Swallowing down all the curses and threats I want to shoot at him and his sly look, I simply just nod at him and go back over towards the living space. Before he has the chance to come sit back and down and even possibly watch me naked, I hurriedly strip from my maids uniform, leaving me in only a pair of underwear. Then, without another thought, I pull the slutty dress over my figure until it hits just below my thighs. This must've been a dress from Chloe... It's too tight and too short for my liking. "Alright, let's go!" I hear Maddox chime from behind me as he gathers a big folder of papers from the same table that was holding my dress.

“We’re going out.” Those were the first words he had spoken to me since the disaster in the bedroom, since I had made the fatal mistake of moaning Stefano’s name while he was between my legs. I picked up the dress with trembling fingers. It felt like nothing in my hands. It was black mesh, delicate, sheer, and cruel. It wasn't designed to clothe a woman; it was intended to strip her bare while she wore it. The front was a plunging V that stopped at my navel, and the back didn't exist. The sides were held together by tiny, fragile silk threads that looked as if they would snap at the slightest breath.

I sighed in frustration after I saw my designer dresses in my closet. These dresses were stuck in my walk-in closet for years because Cain doesn't want me to go out. He doesn't even care if I wear ugly clothes. He even made me walk around his room naked after he used my body. Thinking about it now disgusts me. I picked a satin beige dress with a length above my knees. It hugged my body perfectly, showing my curves. The sleeves reached my wrist, hiding the scratch Cain left me. I lifted my chin and combed my hair using my fingers after blow-drying and curling it.

The invitation came in the form of a package, just like last time. But this time, the note was brief, almost careless. Tonight. Same place. Wear this. My hands trembled as I opened the box, pulling aside the layers of tissue paper to reveal what lay beneath. The dress—if you could even call it that—was an assault on my senses, a vivid, cherry-red creation of lace and satin. It was delicate, sheer in all the wrong places, and designed to make me feel exposed. Vulnerable. The colour itself screamed danger, passion, a warning I should’ve heeded but couldn’t.

That he wanted me to look pure and innocent. Nothing about this was pure, and the dress made me look like a whore that wanted to dress as an angel on Halloween. A white body cone dress, with a thigh halter neck top, squeezing my breasts together, showing way too much of them, and the laced bra. It barely covered my ass, despite the fact that it had an asymmetrical cut, making it longer on one side. I felt dirty, despite the fact that I even had my lady parts scrubbed.

5Raina. There’s a kind of lie you learn to wear like perfume. Not too thick. Just enough to make people lean in, smile politely, and pretend not to smell the fire underneath. That’s the lie I wore to Caleb’s mother’s birthday party. The dress helped. It was pale yellow, had thin straps, and a soft cotton that clung in the right places without looking like I tried too hard. My hair was pulled up, loose tendrils falling down my neck. My lipstick was light.

"You should be out there, in the gutters where you belong—where you've always belonged. Not under this roof with my daughter and I." "Mother, what happened to her dress?" Bianca's voice chimed in from the staircase. "It's practically see through and why is it torn at those places, Zerina? Were you trying hard to get the attention of my Dave? That's so embarrassing." My teeth clenched at the mention of Dave's name. I raised my head and glared at her.

"Lisa asked me to come. I'm happy to help her." "Of course you are," Genevieve said taking a delicate sip of her champagne. "Such a loyal friend." Lisa squeezed my hand. "Can Celeste get fitted for her dress today? I want her in something navy blue, I think. It'll look beautiful with her coloring." Genevieve's smile tightened. "Navy? For a her? Lisa darling, navy is so… somber. This is a celebration. Perhaps something in a lighter shade but Celeste has such a unique… figure. We may need to find a designer who specializes in more challenging proportions."

As we are shoving her clothes into her bag, she starts sobbing. I turned around. “Sinclair. What’s wrong?” She turned around, and she was holding a blue dress. It’s the same dress from the welcome party. “Who did this?!” I looked at the dress, and it’s shredded. I looked at Sinclair, and she is devastated. “Sinclair, talk to me. What is special about this dress?” It’s a simple dress. It doesn’t look expensive, but it looks like a nice dress to wear on a date to a movie and dinner. I don’t understand why she’s crying.

The revenge. She forgot the nights she cried herself to sleep, holding on to her parent's portrait, whispering promises of justice. She forgot the name Delaney. Because Ethan was looking at her like she was the only woman in the world. Like he would shield her from every storm. Like he would carry her weight if she let him. And she hated herself for liking it. Her voice was quiet when she pointed to the dress. A royal blue gown, with off-shoulder details, and a velvet ribbon that tied around the waist in a bow.