They hate it

The door to Megan’s office swings open, and in walk Emily and Eleanor. Their presence fills the room instantly, commanding attention. Even Megan’s smug grin falters for a moment as she watches them approach. You, standing in the ridiculous maid’s outfit, feel a mix of dread and twisted excitement swirl in your gut. The thrill of humiliation grips you—but as soon as Emily’s eyes meet yours, the atmosphere changes.

Eleanor is the first to speak, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "What the hell is this?"

Her cold, sharp tone sends a chill down your spine. You glance between them and Megan, trying to gauge what’s about to happen. Megan’s confident smirk starts to waver as she shifts nervously behind her desk. You’ve never seen her like this before—uncertain, almost scared. It’s clear that even she wasn’t expecting *this* reaction.

Emily steps forward, her tall frame towering over Megan, her black hair falling in sleek waves. She looks you up and down, and the disgust on her face is unmistakable. "A maid outfit?" she sneers, turning to Megan. "You thought you could just dress him up like this, humiliate him, without *our* permission?"

Megan falters, her voice weak for the first time since you’ve known her. "I-I thought you’d appreciate it. He’s… pathetic, and I thought—"

"Shut up," Eleanor snaps, her eyes flashing with anger. "You *thought* wrong. Tom is ours to deal with, not yours. You don’t make decisions like this without our consent."

Megan’s eyes widen, panic flashing across her face. She looks like she’s trying to find a way out, but there’s none. Not in front of these two. Megan, who had lorded her power over you, who had reduced you to her personal plaything, now seems small and **** under the weight of Emily and Eleanor’s fury.

Emily steps closer, her voice a dangerous whisper now. "You’ve overstepped, Megan. This was never your place. He’s *our* toy, not yours."

Megan stumbles over her words, trying to explain, to rationalize, but Emily cuts her off again. "You thought humiliating *him* gave you control? You don’t even understand what real control is."

Then, to your shock, Emily turns her cold gaze toward you. "Tom," she says, her voice low but commanding, "get out of that ridiculous outfit. Now."

Your hands shake as you begin fumbling with the ties of the maid’s uniform, pulling it off as quickly as you can. You feel exposed, ****, and deeply ashamed—but not in the way you’ve craved. This shame is raw and brutal, something far worse than you anticipated. Eleanor watches with a cool indifference as you strip away the last piece of the humiliating costume.

Once you’re back in your underwear, Eleanor speaks up, her tone biting. "Now, let’s deal with Megan."

Megan’s face drains of color. She takes a step back, her usual confidence completely shattered. "W-what do you mean?" she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper.

Emily’s smile is slow, cruel. "You’ve tried to humiliate *him* without us. And now, it’s time for *you* to be humiliated. Right here, in front of us all."

Megan’s eyes widen in panic as she glances around the room, as if searching for an escape. But there’s none. She knows that she’s made a mistake—one she can’t back out of.

"Get on your knees," Eleanor orders, her voice icily calm.

Megan hesitates for a moment, but only a moment. Then, slowly, with trembling legs, she lowers herself to the ground. The powerful woman who had just commanded you to wear that degrading uniform now kneels before Emily and Eleanor, her face pale and terrified. The tables have turned, and Megan’s confidence has completely evaporated.

"Apologize," Emily demands. "For thinking you could take what’s ours. Apologize for your arrogance."

Megan’s lips tremble as she stares up at them, her hands clenched at her sides. The tension in the room is thick as she fights the urge to defy them, but she knows better. She knows she has ****.

"I… I’m sorry," she says, her voice shaking. "I overstepped. I shouldn’t have done this without your consent."

Eleanor steps forward, tilting her head as she stares down at Megan. "That’s not good enough. You’ll have to do much better than that."

Megan swallows hard, her voice breaking. "I’m sorry. I—I was wrong. I didn’t mean to disrespect you. Please forgive me."

The satisfaction in Emily and Eleanor’s eyes is unmistakable. They’ve stripped her of her power as easily as she once stripped you of yours, and now, she’s groveling at their feet—completely humiliated.

Emily looks over at you, her expression softening slightly as if to remind you of your place. "You belong to us," she says quietly, almost like a promise. "No one else."

Eleanor smirks as she watches Megan tremble on her knees. "And you, Megan, are going to learn just how far beneath us you really are."

Megan stays silent, her head bowed, her entire body trembling. She’s powerless now, at their mercy. Just as you’ve been. And while you should feel some sense of victory or ****, all you feel is a deep, twisted satisfaction. The balance of power has shifted once again, and you know that whatever happens next, you’ll never escape their control.

Emily steps forward, her heels clicking sharply on the floor, and presses her shoe against Megan’s bowed head. Megan doesn’t flinch—she doesn’t dare.

"From now on," Emily says softly, her voice dripping with authority, "you will not touch him without our permission. You will do *nothing* without us approving it first. Do you understand?"

Megan nods weakly, her voice a broken whisper. "Yes. I understand."

"And you’ll apologize to *him,* too," Eleanor adds, her voice cutting through the silence. "Right now."

Megan’s head snaps up in surprise, her eyes wide with disbelief. But she sees the cold, unrelenting expressions on Emily and Eleanor’s faces, and she knows there’s no escaping it. Slowly, painfully, she turns her gaze to you, still standing half-naked in the center of the room.

Her lips part, but the words come slowly. "I’m sorry," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "For what I did. For overstepping. I… I won’t do it again."

The apology rings hollow, but it’s enough. Emily and Eleanor have broken her, reduced her to the same position she once tried to **** on you. And now, she knows her place—beneath them. Beneath you.

Eleanor gives a satisfied nod. "Good. Now, Megan, clean up the mess you made."

Megan looks around at the spilled coffee, the dirt, the mess she created in her attempt to humiliate you. And now, it’s her turn to clean it up. Her hands shake as she crawls forward, grabbing a cloth to start wiping up the coffee, her face flushed with shame.

Emily and Eleanor watch, their expressions smug, satisfied, as Megan grovels on the floor. You stand there, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. Part of you knows that this is far from over. That they’re not just breaking Megan—they’re reminding you, too, of your place. Of your *need* for their control.

And you love it.