Falling for her oppressor

chapter 3

The television flickered in the dimly lit living room, casting shadows across the walls as I sat curled up on the couch. It was one of the rare moments I allowed myself to relax. My chores were done for the day, and the house was quiet—too quiet. Aunt Lorna was out, as usual, and Nelly hadn’t come home yet. I tried not to think about what they were doing or where they were, but the silence in the house often gave me too much space for my thoughts to wander.

The sound of the front door creaking open broke through the hum of the TV, and I tensed slightly. Aunt Lorna’s heels clicked loudly against the floor, and I knew instantly that she was in one of her moods. I sat up straighter, turning my head just as she walked into the living room. She looked as put together as always, her makeup flawless, her black dress hugging her figure perfectly, as if nothing in the world ever fazed her.

"Good evening, Aunt Lorna," I said quietly, trying to sound polite, even though I knew it probably wouldn’t make a difference.

She barely spared me a glance, her eyes scanning the room with a cold detachment. "Is Nelly back yet?" she asked, her voice sharp, like it always was when she came home after one of her mysterious outings.

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "She hasn’t come home yet."

Aunt Lorna didn’t respond, her gaze flicking toward me briefly, full of disdain. She turned on her heel and headed upstairs without another word, leaving me alone once again. I let out a small sigh and slumped back against the couch, trying to focus on the TV, but the tension in the house always made it hard to relax. It was as if I were constantly waiting for something to go wrong, always holding my breath around her.

Two days passed without much change—more chores, more silence, more of the same routine. I thought Aunt Lorna had forgotten about whatever it was that was bothering her the other night, but I was wrong.

On the second evening, just as I was finishing cleaning the kitchen, I heard Aunt Lorna’s footsteps again, but this time they were hurried, more purposeful. She came into the kitchen holding a shopping bag, her expression as icy as ever. Without saying a word, she tossed the bag onto the counter in front of me. I blinked in surprise, unsure of what was happening.

"Put that on," she said curtly, her voice cutting through the quiet like a blade.

I opened the bag slowly, pulling out a short, black dress—far shorter and more revealing than anything I would ever wear. My stomach twisted as I stared at the thin fabric. There was also a pair of high heels inside the bag, the kind I could barely walk in, let alone wear comfortably.

"Aunt Lorna..." I began, my voice hesitant as I looked up at her. "Where are we going?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer, her expression darkening. "Don’t ask questions, Kyra. Just put it on."

"But—" I stammered, my confusion growing. "I don’t understand—"

"Shut up!" she snapped, her voice laced with irritation. "I didn’t ask for your opinion. You’ll wear what I tell you to wear, and you’ll do what I say. You have no right to ask me anything. Now, get dressed."

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. I had never seen her this angry, this... cold. She had always been dismissive of me, cruel in her own way, but this felt different. There was a dangerous edge to her tone, and the way she looked at me made my skin crawl. I opened my mouth to protest again, but the words died in my throat. I knew better than to push her when she was like this.

With trembling hands, I took the dress and heels from the bag, my mind racing. What was this about? Why did she want me to wear something like this? Where were we going?

My thoughts spun in a thousand directions, but I couldn’t make sense of any of it. All I knew was that Aunt Lorna wasn’t giving me a choice. She never did.

"Are you deaf?" she spat, her eyes flashing with impatience. "I said, get dressed. Now!"

I nodded quickly, clutching the dress against my chest as I hurried past her toward my room. Once inside, I shut the door and leaned against it, my breath shaky as I tried to calm myself. Something was wrong. Deep down, I could feel it, but I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped, just like always.

With a heavy heart, I changed into the dress, the fabric clinging to my skin uncomfortably. It was too short, the neckline too low, and I felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that made my stomach churn. I could barely stand to look at myself in the mirror, but I forced myself to put on the heels anyway, stumbling slightly as I tried to steady myself.

When I finally opened the door and stepped back into the hallway, Aunt Lorna was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line of approval as she looked me over.

"That’s better," she said coldly. "Now, keep your mouth shut and do as you're told. We’re leaving in ten minutes. Don’t make me repeat myself."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I nodded again, too scared to speak. Whatever was happening, I knew it wasn’t good. And for the first time in a long while, I felt truly powerless.

I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing myself in the reflection staring back. The black dress clung to my body like a second skin, the fabric smooth and unforgiving. It was far shorter than anything I’d ever worn, the hem brushing just below my thighs, while the neckline dipped low enough to make me feel exposed. The material shimmered under the dim light, highlighting the curves of my figure that I usually kept hidden. My long brown hair cascaded down my back in soft waves, framing my face, but instead of feeling confident or beautiful, I felt… uncomfortable.

I tugged at the dress, trying to adjust it, but no matter how I moved, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being on display. My figure—curvier than I liked to acknowledge—seemed amplified in this outfit. I could feel the way it hugged my waist, how the short length accentuated my legs. Normally, I preferred to blend into the background, but now, every inch of me felt like it was screaming for attention.

The high heels Aunt Lorna had thrown at me were no better. Black, strappy, and impossibly high, they felt foreign on my feet. I teetered as I walked, struggling to keep my balance with each step. My ankles wobbled, and I couldn’t help but grip the wall for support as I made my way out of the bedroom. It felt like walking on stilts—every step made me feel like I might topple over at any moment.

Aunt Lorna was waiting impatiently at the bottom of the stairs, her arms crossed and her eyes cold as she looked me up and down. I could feel her disapproval radiating toward me like a heatwave.

"Hurry up," she snapped. "We don’t have all night."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to steel myself. I didn’t know where we were going or what she had planned, but I knew better than to ask again. My heart pounded as I followed her out the door, barely managing to keep my balance on the cobblestone path leading to the street.

A taxi was already waiting, and Aunt Lorna climbed in first, her movements graceful and confident as always. I stumbled slightly, catching my heel on the uneven pavement before I managed to slide into the back seat beside her. The dress rode up even higher as I sat, and I quickly tugged it down, my face flushing in embarrassment. I felt her eyes on me, judging, disapproving, but she said nothing as the cab pulled away from the curb.

The drive seemed to stretch on forever. I tried to focus on anything other than the growing discomfort I felt, shifting in my seat as the cab sped through the city streets. I could feel the fabric of the dress digging into my skin, the straps of the heels cutting into my ankles, but I didn’t dare complain. Aunt Lorna sat beside me, her gaze fixed out the window, her face a mask of cold indifference.

We drove for over an hour, the familiar streets giving way to areas of the city I had never seen before. The buildings became taller, grander, the neon lights of the city giving way to elegant storefronts and high-end boutiques. Everything felt distant, like I was being swept into a world I didn’t belong in.

When we finally stopped, I looked up through the cab window and felt my breath catch in my throat. We were outside a famous five-star hotel, the kind you only ever see in magazines or on TV. The building towered above us, glittering with lights that made it look like something out of a dream. The entrance was grand, with large glass doors and a sweeping driveway where luxury cars were parked in perfect rows. It was a place meant for the rich and powerful, a world far beyond anything I had ever known.

I stared in awe, feeling completely out of place, but Aunt Lorna’s sharp voice broke through my daze.

"Don’t just sit there, Kyra. Move," she hissed, her eyes flashing with impatience.

I clumsily got out of the cab, my heel catching on the edge of the curb as I stumbled forward, nearly losing my balance. Aunt Lorna shot me a disgusted look, grabbing my arm and dragging me forward before I could steady myself. I could feel the heat of embarrassment crawling up my neck as she yanked me toward the entrance, her grip tight and unforgiving.

"Honestly, can’t you walk properly?" she muttered under her breath as we entered the hotel.

I didn’t respond, too focused on trying not to trip again as we stepped inside. The lobby was even more breathtaking than the exterior. Marble floors stretched out beneath us, polished to a mirror shine, and towering chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over everything. The air smelled of expensive perfume and fresh flowers, a far cry from the musty scent of our home. Wealthy guests in designer clothes moved around us, their conversations hushed, their laughter soft.

I felt like I didn’t belong. Like I was playing a part in a life that wasn’t mine.

Aunt Lorna marched forward with purpose, dragging me along with her as she scanned the room. I struggled to keep up, my legs trembling slightly from the strain of the heels, but I managed to stay upright this time.

We hadn’t taken more than a few steps into the lobby when I saw him. An old man sitting in one of the plush armchairs by the bar, his eyes fixed on us with a knowing gleam. He waved at Aunt Lorna, his wrinkled face breaking into a wide smile.

"There he is," Aunt Lorna muttered under her breath, her grip on my arm tightening. "Keep your mouth shut and follow my lead."

I swallowed hard, the knot in my stomach tightening as we walked over to him. The man stood up as we approached, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before shifting to Aunt Lorna.

"Lorna," he greeted, his voice smooth, though his age showed in the slight tremor. "You brought her, I see."

"Of course," Aunt Lorna replied, her tone cold and businesslike. "I always deliver."

I stood there, feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter, my mind racing with questions I was too afraid to ask. What was happening? Why was I here? And who was this man?

But I knew better than to say a word. Whatever was about to happen, I had no control over it. And that terrified me more than anything.