Modeling [Margaret]

Ah, Japan. What a different country compared to Amelia Figaro's home of Singapore. So traditionalist and yet modern in a unique blend of culture. It certainly made for some interesting trips before now. And truth be told, it was a nice break from the tedium that had set in during her years in Singapore. A change up of culture, of people to meet and influence. A few of the girls at Fukui even managed to gain her interest. But ah, the girls that always held her attention the best were her lovely maids. The ever rebellious Margaret Chamberlain was always such a good girl for her mistress, even when mouthing off otherwise.

And when needing a model for her new painting, there was someone that immediately came to mind. The statuesque blonde strode through the halls of her manor and into the servants' wing. Stopping at the door of her favorite recalcitrant maid, the mistress of the house turned the knob upon the maid's door and entered rather unceremoniously.

"Oh Margaret~! Do you have the dress on yet~?" The fact that Amelia got to dress Margaret up in sexy clothing against her will certainly wasn't the driving reason behind her choice. No, certainly not.

It seemed like even here, Margaret wasn't free from the young mistress's interests. If anything, it was worse now, since there was no father to rein her in if she got carried away. So much for being distracted with adjusting to living in Japan. Margaret sighed softly as she struggled with carrying out Amelia's latest order. She wanted her to dress up and model for a painting. Which, naturally, wasn't a problem, until Margaret learned that her mistress wanted her to wear the skimpiest Chinese dress she had ever seen for it.

Margaret fumed internally as she dressed herself. She manged to get it on without trouble, but...was that really all it was? It barely qualified as a dress, extending only as far as her hips with slits up the side to make even that negligible. But, despite all of that, she was as presentable as she was going to get in this dress when the young mistress barged into her room.

"Ah!" she gasped, blushing and instinctively trying to cover herself up despite being 'fully' dressed. "Y-yes, Mistress," she said. "But do I really have to wear this? It's barely a dress."

Amelia smirked as she looked over Margaret's change of outfit. The lowcut dress helped to emphasize what curves the blonde maid did have. And oh the things it did for the much taller woman's imagination. Especially when she looked down at the open view of Margaret's cleavage. A predatory grin spread across her lips and she began to circle around Margaret, her mistress' hands coming to rest on her shoulders. "Hm... Yes, you look quite darling today, Margaret! Now, come with me." Amelia moved around her once more, not accepting any sort of protest as one of her hands reached down to grab one of Margaret's.

Amelia pulled her rebellious maid along down the servants' wing and into the courtyard of her manor. An unmarked canvas was set upon a metallic easel. A small table was set up nearby with various different color paints and a number of brushes all varying in bristle size and length. Noticably, the setup was near the water fountain that was the centerpiece of the whole area. "Now, sit down upon the edge of the fountain and give me a daring pose!" The heiress suddenly announced her demands to her erstwhile companion.

Not even a moment of hesitation. Margaret was quickly pulled along without even a chance to protest, dragged out of her room by the overly enthusiastic young mistress. She might have appreciated the compliment if not for the embarrassment of what she was wearing (actually, she was still kind of happy to get it), but really, why did she have to look like this to 'look darling'?

Even worse was the fact that she was pulled outside. True, it was only to the courtyard, and no one but the other maids would be able to see her like this, but something about being outdoors dressed like this still made Margaret want to run back inside and shut herself away. The young mistress would never accept that though, so she was stuck. "If you insist, Mistress," she said, clearly unhappy with how things were going. But she obeyed, and sat on the edge of the fountain. She shuffled for a moment to make sure that the bottom part of her dress (what little there was) was underneath her, then sat cross-legged and leaned back slightly to show herself off a bit. If Amelia was going to force her into such a skimpy dress, that was probably what she was after. "Is this what you want?"

Hmmm...

Amelia crossed her arms under her chest and truly gave the ever increasingly embarrassed maid a thoughtful look. She eyed every part of Margaret's form and scrutinized every part of her bodily form. After a moment, she sighed and shook her head. "No, no. I'll have to do it myself." She easily strode over to Margaret with a couple of steps, her hands briefly moving about her maid's legs, adjusting them slightly while moving the front half of the dress just-so.

After the legs, she moved to Margaret's arms, moving them slightly more off to the side. It was then that Amelia leaned in close, one hand circling around to feel Margaret's back while the other began to put pressure on her shoulder. She gently pushed the girl back her hand sliding up Margaret's back until Amelia suddenly stopped. "Now... Look at me, Margaret." Her voice was slightly husky, enticing even one might say as she called for the other blonde to look her in the eyes. "...And hold this pose." A grin crept over her face once more before she flit away with a sudden quickness. Amelia moved towards the canvas and immediately set about adding dashes of various colors to her palette before picking it up in one hand and grabbing a brush with the other.

The young mistress hummed in delight as she began to paint, keeping a careful eye upon Margaret every other minute to make sure the pose did not slacken.

Margaret's heart sank as Amelia shook her head and insisted on doing it herself. What did she want, then? Something even more embarrassing? Or had she completely misjudged the young mistress's desire? Whatever the case, Amelia now insisted on arranging Margaret's pose herself. Margaret remained as still as she could, letting the young mistress shift her around, adjusting her legs and (oh great) the front of her dress, then spreading her arms out and shifting her back slightly. All the while, the young mistress teased her with her hands on her back, causing Margaret to blush even more furiously.

"Please don't take too long, Mistress. I don't know how long I can hold this," Margaret said, looking Amelia in the eyes and holding as still as possible. Of course, that was probably wishful thinking. Painting was a slow and delicate process. And painful, she could only imagine, for the one unfortunate enough to have to model for it.

Don't take long? Hmhmhm... How naive. But ah, that embarrassed look upon Margaret's face was simply divine. It made her heart flutter with how cute her cutie maid looked. "Hold it as loooong as you can..." Amelia emphasized the time it would take, taking delight in doing so. Nonetheless, she set about the same pace as before. A careful and methodical pace. The art of painting was not something that one did by simply rushing through or splashing colors at random. Only the laziest of "artists" did such nonsensical things and then tried to metaphorically paint it as something "deeper" than the mess it was in reality.

The grass was the simplest part of the piece, though she added a touch of color to the background with some blossoming flowers. Next would come the fountain and the majestic cascade of water that it poured forth. And finally came the most exquisite part of her painting. But before she would begin upon Margaret herself, the young mistress would check to make sure the maid's arms weren't about to give out or her center of gravity about to shift into the water of the fountain.

"How are you holding up, Margaret?"

Margaret winced at Amelia's response. Yes, she knew it was wishful thinking, but did Amelia really have to put so much emphasis on it. This was going to be just as painful as she was dreading. And sure enough, she could tell from her vantage point that the young mistress's pace was quite slow and methodical. She couldn't fault Amelia for that, only for making her model for it. Even then, what was she going to say? No? No, she could never outright refuse an order, no matter how much she protested.

All the while, Margaret wondered if Amelia was almost done, but knew in the back of her mind that it wouldn't be the case. She could at least hope that Amelia would paint her first and add the background in around her, but...did painting even work like that? Somehow, she doubted it. By the time the young mistress finally asked after her, her arms were trembling and she felt like she could fall over at any minute, but that simple question gave her renewed resolve to get through this. "I'll be fine, Mistress," she answered.

Hm~. There was a bit of fire in her eyes when she answered that question. Good. Amelia liked it when she saw that fire. "I'd expect nothing less from you, Margaret." She replied coolly with a genuine smile to her model. With the girl's assertion given, Amelia looked back to her painting. With a thoughtful hum, she briefly wet her brush to remove the current paint and placed it back down upon the table to grab a smaller brush, adding in additional bits of texture or highlight to various spots. After a few moments more, the smaller brush was cleaned and placed down upon the table once more.

She picked up another brush, dabbed it in her paints. And now she set about painting the model maid before her. Slowly, carefully, matching the curvature of her form, the subtle shifts of fabric upon the dress. The way her muscles tensed and the tilt of her head. Even the small strands of hair that didn't quite conform with the rest. And finally, the only real thing that she changed about the piece, the face of her subject. Azure eyes that held a slight glisten, a sultry smile that invited the viewer in.

Amelia slowly withdrew her brush from the canvas. And once more she shifted to the smaller brush. Her eyes moved to Margaret, ever scrutinizing. Her stare seemed to last forever before it moved back to the canvas once again. A few touches here and there. Intricate, detailed. And then that brush too had done it's work for the painter. She took a couple of steps back to admire her work before gaining a pleased expression. She placed the palette and brush upon the table before gesturing Margaret to come over and stand in front of her to look at the completed piece.

And what Margaret would see was the result of her long wait. While certainly sexy and alluring, it was also something more. Margaret could see herself. And she was beautiful.

Despite Margaret's newfound resolve, the slow, painstaking process that Amelia was going through very quickly challenged it. She found her arms shaking again, like they would give way any minute, and with how she was leaned back, she felt like even the slightest movement or slip would send her back into the fountain. The strain on her arms was getting to be such that she could only hope she would have a chance to rest before returning to her duties for the day.

But finally, after what seemed like an eternity (coupled with another eternity, for how long the young mistress simply studied her before putting on what she assumed was the finishing touches), she saw Amelia set everything down and gesture her to come over. Sighing with relief, Margaret leaned forward and stood up. She felt an immense weight lift from her arms, but knew that they would probably be sore for awhile longer.

She walked over and, though she had faith in the young mistress's skill, fully expected it to not be worth holding a pose for so long. But instead, she was utterly floored by what she saw. It was...beautiful, for lack of a better word. It took Margaret a moment to realize that she really was looking at her own likeness, at which point the blush in her cheeks returned anew. "Is this...how Mistress Amelia sees me?" she asked, oddly demurely. Her expression was one of surprise, but just for a moment there was a delighted smile on her face.

Soon after, though, she returned to her usual glower. "I hope you don't plan on using this for anything. I think I might die of embarrassment if other people saw me looking like this." She added in a hushed voice, "Especially with that expression. You just did that on your own, didn't you."

Amelia's hands found their way to Margaret's shoulders as she viewed the painting, rubbing relaxing the ache that had developed. A grin appeared on her face as she caught the small and demure words that escaped from Margaret's surprised mind. Ah, but then that usual glower. What a shame. "Using it for something, hmm?" One of the taller woman's hands left her maid's shoulder and she made a show of thinking it over, tapping an index finger upon her chin. "My, my... Whatever should I do with this...?"

She grinned after a moment and looked back down at Margaret. "Ah, I know... Maybe I'll hang it up in my bedroom! Or perhaps... In yours?" The mistress of the house just couldn't help but tease her already seemingly embarrassed maid. "Such a captivating appearance should be where it can best be admired, yes?"

Margaret let out a soft sigh when the young mistress's hands found her shoulders. They felt nice, and not just because she was trying to relieve the growing soreness. She frowned when Amelia teased her about the painting, though. In her own room was fine. That way nobody except them and the other maids would ever be likely to see it. Even if Amelia was likely to have a personal interest (she did paint it like that, after all), it was better than it getting submitted to the school or an art show.

Especially the school. Margaret was a student there too, and she did not want the attention that that would bring.

As for Margaret's room... "I don't want it. I don't need to be reminded of this," she said.

"And why..." Amelia's hands left Margaret's shoulders and began to snake their way around her waist as the much taller woman leaned down slightly to pull her maid close. "Would that be?" Her breathe tickled at Amelia's ear as she spoke. "It's a perfectly nice painting, isn't it? And after all that effort I spent finding a nice dress for you and painting the beautiful figure in it..." A dramatic sigh.

"Well, I suppose I will have to find another to pose for my paintings, won't I?" She released Margaret and pulled away, her hands lifting outward with palms facing the sky. A rather exaggerated look of exasperation crossing her face. "Perhaps I will simply sell this one since you disapprove so much."

Margaret grumbled at Amelia's teasing response. Being held like this wasn't so bad, but...gah, why did she have to be so cruel. Guilt tripping her for her embarrassment was just too much. She wasn't going to retract anything she said, so all she could really do was grumble. At least, until she suggested selling it.

"Wha-no!" Margaret stammered out a sudden response, turning back towards the young mistress. No, that was the worst thing that could happen. She didn't even want to imagine where her likeness would end up if Amelia did that. "No, no, it's fine! Keep it! Keep it!" she said, way too fast. "Just..." she looked down, blushing yet again. "Your room is fine. It's a good painting, but I don't want to be looking at myself in this every night."

Fufufu~! How adorable Margaret's reaction was! The urgency in her voice, the way her cheeks colored once more. Ah, such a cute girl! Truly there was no better choice for her model this afternoon. "Oh fine, fine. I shall hang it up in my own room then." She gave an exaggerated sigh, just like the rest of her act. But then a hand moved towards Margaret's chin and lifted the blue-eyed maid's head to look into her mistress' face. "You did very good work today, Margaret."

Her voice was level and her words genuine once more, not simply teasing. She leaned down and placed a quick kiss upon Margaret's lips before drawing away with the same predatory look from when the much taller blonde had adjusted Margaret's pose. "Thank you very much for that good work." Amelia strode over towards the painting, gently grasp the sides before starting to walk off with it.

Margaret froze in place as Amelia approached her again. She could never be entirely sure what the young mistress would do. Sometimes it was her usual domineering attitude. Sometimes she managed to surprise her. And Amelia's gentler side always surprised her. How ridiculous. How could she always manage to get worked up over a delicate touch, a few kind words, and-

Ah...

She definitely hadn't expected that. Margaret's blush deepened as Amelia pulled away again. She raised a hand to touch her lips, as though trying to decide whether or not that had really happened. But when she looked back at the young mistress, Amelia was looking...well, much like her usual self. In a way, that put Margaret's mind at ease, even she already missed the feel of the young mistress's lips against her own.

"You are...welcome," she said awkwardly. "I will return to my duties, then, if there's nothing else you need of me." She bowed to the young mistress, then turned as way to return to her room. First, she'd get changed. Then, she'd lament however long had been shaved off her life from the panic when Amelia suggested selling the painting. After that, there was work to do, which she'd been kept from for entirely too long.