Sexual Exploration

41

He finally glanced to the counter, where a small pile of clothes was waiting for him.
Maybe he should just be thankful Yoongi was even giving him clothes at all. Better than walking around naked.

Right?

He heard Hoseok and Seokjin snickering, as they already knew what the outfit was, and he sighed.

Jungkook bounced his leg eagerly, staring at the door as he waited impatiently for it to open and reveal Namjoon in the outfit.

Jimin giggled, sipping his tea.

Namjoon picked up the first part of it, confused as to what it was. A scarf? A large headband?

But then he unfolded it and his heart dropped right to the floor, his breathing escaping him.

"Yah!" He shouted angrily, pounding his fist on the door so fiercely that it rattled in its frame. "You fucking assholes! I'm not fucking wearing this!"

He heard laughter on the other side and groaned, knowing he had gotten himself into this mess and that no one was going to go easy on him.

Grumbling profanities, he grudgingly removed his shirt and jeans, kicking them to the side. He kept his boxers on, refusing to take them off no matter what.

He slowly slid the top on, avoiding looking in the mirror at all costs.

The second part was even worse, and he held it between two fingers, as if it was a piece of roadkill. He made a face, definitely not wanting to put it on, but knowing he had to do it and do it fast, unless he wanted to have the others all barge in here and help him change into it.

He winced as he slid it up over his hips, hating the way it clung to his hips, hugging his curves as if it had been tailor made especially for him. Knowing Yoongi, that was a possibility. The man probably took one look at Namjoon and knew instantly what his measurements were.

Fucking pervert.

The second to last item was the easiest to slide on, but that didn't make him hate it any less as he pulled them up his long legs, coming to a stop and securing them in place at his upper thighs.

The last part was the most complicated and painful part to get on, and he struggled for a few minutes, sweating pure hatred as he buckled the straps into place.

Finally, he was finished. He stood up, wobbled, and quickly grabbed onto the sink to steady himself.

He dared to look himself over and almost slit his throat with Yoongi's razor at the sight of his reflection, dressed in the outfit Yoongi had picked out for him.

He was wearing a tight black cropped tank top, showing off his abs and V line. His piercing poked against the thin, tight fabric, the spaghetti straps going over his broad shoulders, pressing the top against his pecs almost suffocatingly. The second part was a very short miniskirt that barely covered him and left little to the imagination. He scowled, wanting to rip it off and shove it in Yoongi's mouth. Long black thigh highs covered his legs, from his toes to his upper thighs, making his legs look longer than ever. The last accessory was a pair of black high heels with crisscrossing straps that added three inches to his height. He had to duck a little to be able to see his whole self in the mirror.

He hated this. He hated everything.

The outfit was obviously only made to make him seem less dominant and more submissive, which pissed him off. He was the biggest dom in class and everyone knew it, so why did they continually insist on forcing him into the opposite?

A knock on the door.

"Time's up, slave." Yoongi called. "You ready? Or do we have to come in there and assist you into your new clothes?"