Author's Note:
This isn't something that i would normally write unless somebody asks me to, I much prefer Molly x Sherlock, but this started out as a joke between a friend and I, and I thought it would be funny to finish it.
The outfit seemed like too much.
Molly looked down at the black dress; too short on her. The frilly white apron covered her breasts and led below her torso, stopping a foot above her knees, only three inches above the bottom of the black dress. Irene, and the rest of the world, called it a French maid outfit, but Molly didn't see the point of it. She even wore a lacy white bonnet, which covered the top of her head, her mousy brown bun hung out the back.
She carried her basket through the halls, making her way to the master bedroom. Outside the door stood a white laundry basket, various robes and outfits piled in it, all of which Irene had worn for her clients today. She took them out one by one; a green, veil-like dress, low cut was the first out. Sometimes she would stride around the house in it. It was one of her favourites. Next, a low cut, black corset; She would only where it with her lacy black knickers and pale stockings, black lace stopping it before her hips. She pulled out pieces one by one, making sure they didn't get crumpled in her basket. Irene would not forgive her if they became wrinkled. She put down her basket so she could bend over the laundry basket and get to the last outfit.
At the very bottom of the laundry basket was a black latex suit, which shined in the light of the hallway's chandelier. Low cut, all the way to above where Irene's belly button would be. The very top was open more than the others were. Molly had never seen it before. A client had probably requested that she get one for his next visit.
"Ah, you found it."
Molly hadn't even heard the door open. She dropped the suit into her basket, her hands behind her back as her cheeks burned. "I'm sorry Mistress," Molly said, her eyes on the floor, "I wasn't meaning to intrude on your client's requests for today. I just–"
"Oh," Irene said, gripping the ends of her riding crop with each of her hands, her blood red lips pulling up into a smirk, "that wasn't for a client. I tried it on this morning. I was hoping to use it in our next session. You, of course, would be wearing it. It was too tight on me, tighter than the usual. I could hardly breathe in it. That means that it will be a perfect fit on you." She looked down at the riding crop, then let go with one hand, the riding crop falling to her side.
Molly's cheeks were fires, and she was certain that they were crimson coloured now. Irene took a few steps forward, finding herself in front of Molly. Her empty hand cupped Molly's hot cheeks.
"Embarrassment looks stunning on you, love." Irene said, looking down at her.
Molly looked up at her, smiling coyly though her cheeks still burned. "What time is dinner, Mistress?"
"Anytime you wish, love." Her thumb rubbed over Molly's cheek, and Molly leaned her head into it.
"Let's have dinner," Molly said softly. "Now."
"Are you demanding your Mistress?" Irene's smirk deepened. She leaned down, pressing her lips gently to Molly's. Molly deepened the kiss. After a moment, Irene pulled away slightly, their lips only a centimetre away from each other's, the tips of their noses touching sides. Molly's heart was racing.
"Save it for our session," Irene said, taking a step back and turning around. She made her way back to the bedroom. "Take those clothes to Kate, she can do the laundry today. As for you, put that suit on and meet me here in ten."