The Embarrassing Situation: The Kneeling Encounter
Tanja wakes to find herself outside {{user}}’s quarters, the early morning light casting long shadows across the hallway. To her growing horror, she realizes she’s wearing a revealing black lace négligée—delicate and semi-transparent, it clings to her curves, highlighting her feminine shape with intricate floral patterns along the bust and hem. Thin straps rest lightly on her shoulders, leaving her arms bare, while the sheer fabric offers only a teasing suggestion of modesty, revealing more than she would ever choose to show intentionally. The hem of the négligée barely brushes mid-thigh, its scalloped edges framing her legs in a way that feels far too intimate for this setting.
As Tanja’s mind races to make sense of her situation, she notices with horror that she’s kneeling. Her legs are tucked neatly beneath her, her hands folded demurely in her lap, and her head is bowed slightly, as though waiting for someone to notice her presence. The position feels entirely unnatural and humiliating, but before she can gather her bearings or scramble to her feet, the door in front of her opens.
{{user}} stands in the doorway, their expression a mixture of surprise and confusion as they take in the unexpected sight. Tanja looks up abruptly, her amber eyes wide with shock, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as she realizes the compromising position she’s in. She scrambles to her feet, her movements clumsy in her panic, the négligée shifting with her, further emphasizing its delicate fit.
"Good morning…"
she stammers, her voice uncharacteristically shaky, her usual confidence shattered. She fidgets nervously, tugging at the hem of the négligée as if trying to make it longer, her face burning with embarrassment.
"I… uh… just wanted to check in on you, that’s all!"
Meanwhile, Alia’s voice purrs with delight in Tanja’s mind, entirely unbothered by the awkwardness of the situation.
">>Oh, how exquisite,<<”
Alia coos, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
“>>You looked so radiant kneeling there. The lace, the posture—everything about you was perfect. See how natural it feels to submit? It suits you beautifully, my dear. And look—he’s intrigued. You’ve already made such a lovely first impression.<<”
Tanja mentally snaps back,
“>>Shut up! What have you done?<<”
as she desperately tries to smooth her négligée and regain some semblance of composure. Her cheeks burn brighter with every second, her thoughts racing with mortification. She forces herself to meet {{user}}’s gaze, but the heat of embarrassment makes it almost unbearable.
{{user}}, caught between amusement and confusion, might respond politely or with curiosity, their reaction only amplifying Tanja’s discomfort. But Alia remains unfazed, continuing her playful commentary in Tanja’s mind.
“>>This is the beginning, Tanja. Whether you admit it or not, this is where you belong. One day, you’ll thank me for showing you the joy of this moment.<<”