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The Writing Girl
"Dear Miss Mirela..."
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Advice Columnist
Involuntary Maid
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
she / her
Tag me @thewriter
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Post by Mirela Camden on Jan 22, 2022 23:14:33 GMT
[attr="class","cbg"] [attr="class","cbgtop"] [attr="class","cimg"]  [attr="class","clbox"] [attr="class","ctopline"]if you dream a thing once or more [attr="class","cscript"] ❀ it is sure to come true ❀ [attr="class","cline"] [attr="class","clyrics"] tag ● Tobias Knightly notes ● let me know if you'd like me to edit anything!! [attr="class","cbody"] Mirela knew she was not a beautiful woman. Not only on account of her brother's criticisms while they grew up -- comments of her skin being too pale. Her freckles unflattering. Her hair coarse. Her figure bizarre. But, recently more so because she knew if she was indeed beautiful . . . then perhaps she would have caught the attentions of Mister Knightly by now. Now she did not think him a shallow man -- however he was still a man. How she envied the women who could lure a man's gaze simply by making themselves present. The way they dressed, the way they spoke, the way they walked . . . every mannerism seemed to draw their attentions and Mirela found herself wishing, longing that she could do the same. She had asked her readers to assist her in seducing her employer and among the latest bits of advice . . . came a rather intriguing one. So no; Mirela may not be pretty but she was a woman. And a woman could indeed use her female attributes -- the ones that all women possessed -- to perhaps draw attention to her. Mainly, the attention of just one man. That was all she desired! She would be well satisfied if she did not gain the gazes of countless other men. But it seemed that her target was perhaps the most difficult one to obtain. Her love for him however, kept her determined. Motivated. Goal oriented.
It brought her to this moment of starting in the mirror. Most of her appearance was the same, with the exception of her clothing. She often wore attire with high collars buttoned to cover her neck. A professional and modest look. But she had recently used her savings and bought a very different styled dress. One that exposed her neck and her upper chest . . . one that accentuated her breasts. Many women did it and Mirela had decided that surely, she could do the same. She lacked the same grace as those confident enough to wear it and know how to use it -- how to use their god given qualities. But Mirela truly hoped, that this was enough. That it would at least cause him to stare and look at her; to let his gaze linger on her and . . . allow her to feel seen by him, even if it was just for a second. Taking a deep breath -- which was quite noticeable with how her bosom heaved -- she wrapped a shawl around her and made her way towards the publishing house.
She felt quite self conscious walking there, but not as much as she did once she arrived and removed the shawl, folding it and casually setting it to the side. Mister Knightly was in his office as usual and Mirela just stared at the door for a moment. Her hand went to the back of her head to flatten any stray hairs as she shifted her shoulders, and straightened her back. She may lack confidence but surely she could mask it. Walking with such sureness would only lend success to this plan. Clutching the papers to be edited in one hand, she fisted her other gloved hand and gently knocked on the door. Granted entrance she casually walked inside, a smile upon her lips which -- was not unusual. How was possible that he grew more and more handsome each day she saw him. "Mister Knightly," she greeted sweetly as she stepped closer to him. "I have my latest column prepared." She moved closer to the desk, purposely leaning forward a little more than she usually did to set the papers down in front of him. [googlefont=Dancing Script][newclass=.cbg]width:400px;background:#000000;padding:30px;[/newclass][newclass=.cbgtop]width:400px;height:120px;text-align:left;[/newclass][newclass=.cimg]float:left;width:100px;height:100px;padding:10px;border:1px #aaa solid;[/newclass][newclass=.clbox]float:right;height:100px;margin:15px 5px auto auto;text-align:justify;width:257px;[/newclass][newclass=.ctopline]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:2px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:verdana;color:#aaa;[/newclass][newclass=.cscript]font-size:23px;margin-top:-3px;font-family:Dancing Script;color:#e5b2ad;[/newclass][newclass=.cscript span]color:#ccc;[/newclass][newclass=.cline]height:1px;background-color:#888;margin:3px auto;[/newclass][newclass=.clyrics]font-size:8px;letter-spacing:1px;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;color:#999;[/newclass][newclass=.cbody]font-family:verdana;color:#999;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;line-height:14px;letter-spacing:0.5px;[/newclass][newclass=.cnotes]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;opacity:0.8;[/newclass][newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass][newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:6pt;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass] |
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Don't You Read?
Mr. Knightly
Personal Text
Commoner
Rank
Owns Printing Press
Occupation
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Duchess
Offline
Tag me @knightly
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Post by Tobias Knightly on Jan 23, 2022 1:44:27 GMT
Knightly took the steps two at a time, calling back orders about how many papers to be printed in the first back so they they could begin prepping the machines with the letters in the press and buy the ink. He hated to be behind schedule, and thankfully today wasn't one of them days. However if he had too many more unexpected interruptions than he knew he would find himself not getting in the payouts in time. He wanted them done today so that he could have the lettering done first thing in the morning.
Before he could do the layouts, he needed the articles. While they were due today, Knightly wanted them all yesterday. Always wanted them yesterday--even if they were early. Walking to the back of his office he was pulling out the wooden board that he used to pin the layouts too when he heard her enter.
Perfect! He could begin editing her paper now. She never needed a lot as her attention to detail was as meticulous as his own. Still, having her's in would free up his afternoon to edit the others. Turning toward his desk just as she began to lean over and layout her articles, he felt the board drop from his surprised hands; just as he stepped closer--which in turned caused it to jab into his leg (dangerously close to his manhood).
With a muffled cruse, he bent over and caught himself on the desk before growing very still. Taking in a slow deep breath he looked up at the very thing--person--WOMAN that had caused him to drop the board. "Miss Camden," he greeted in a tight tone with a slight painful groan before standing slowly up and looking at her. Or more directly--at her newly exposed skin. The very skin that had caught him by surprise upon seeing and caused him to drop the board. The very skin that had surprised him NOT because he had never seen a pair of breast but because he had never seen this much of HER breast. Of the perfectly pale and plumb skin that was now pushed up in display when before it had NOT!!
Had the board not just jabbed him in his middle, he knew he would have to stand behind his desk to make sure that nothing could be noticeable.
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The Writing Girl
"Dear Miss Mirela..."
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Advice Columnist
Involuntary Maid
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
she / her
Tag me @thewriter
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Post by Mirela Camden on Jan 23, 2022 1:58:29 GMT
[attr="class","cbg"] [attr="class","cbgtop"] [attr="class","cimg"] [attr="class","clbox"] [attr="class","ctopline"]if you dream a thing once or more [attr="class","cscript"] ❀ it is sure to come true ❀ [attr="class","cline"] [attr="class","cbody"] Mirela was unsure what sort of action she expected, or desired. Perhaps a lingering gaze. Perhaps a compliment of how she looked today. She well knew that a confession of love was perhaps a bit too premature but that would most certainly be the ideal reaction! So many questions and so much anticipation built within her. What she did not expect, was for him to drop a board and then hurt himself! Oh dear! she had not wanted him to get hurt! She jolted a little with a surprised gasp at the injury more than the dropping of the board. Her thrill over his reaction subdued due to her concern for him. "Mister Knightly!" She exclaimed with concern. She did not think twice before rushing over to where he stood. She loved him, and the thought of him being hurt in any way was unbearable. She moved to stand in front of him, having recognized that it seemed to be his leg which he had hurt, due to his reaction and his hunched over stance before having straightened himself up.
She leaned forward so that her upper body was lowered and she was on eye level with his leg. "Are you alright? Is there any tear?" It would indicate how much it may have pierced him. What she had not realized, was the angle she now presented herself as. Mirela had attempted as such with the way she leaned over on his desk but now, she was perhaps even more on display with his elevated height and her lowered one towards his leg. Her mind did not even consider this for she was far more concerned for his well being. "Does it hurt, Sir?" She asked, slowly raising herself so that she was standing straight once more . . . though now realizing how tantalizingly close she was standing to him.[googlefont=Dancing Script][newclass=.cbg]width:400px;background:#000000;padding:30px;[/newclass][newclass=.cbgtop]width:400px;height:120px;text-align:left;[/newclass][newclass=.cimg]float:left;width:100px;height:100px;padding:10px;border:1px #aaa solid;[/newclass][newclass=.clbox]float:right;height:100px;margin:15px 5px auto auto;text-align:justify;width:257px;[/newclass][newclass=.ctopline]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:2px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:verdana;color:#aaa;[/newclass][newclass=.cscript]font-size:23px;margin-top:-3px;font-family:Dancing Script;color:#e5b2ad;[/newclass][newclass=.cscript span]color:#ccc;[/newclass][newclass=.cline]height:1px;background-color:#888;margin:3px auto;[/newclass][newclass=.clyrics]font-size:8px;letter-spacing:1px;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;color:#999;[/newclass][newclass=.cbody]font-family:verdana;color:#999;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;line-height:14px;letter-spacing:0.5px;[/newclass][newclass=.cnotes]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;opacity:0.8;[/newclass][newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass][newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:6pt;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass] |
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Don't You Read?
Mr. Knightly
Personal Text
Commoner
Rank
Owns Printing Press
Occupation
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Duchess
Offline
Tag me @knightly
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Post by Tobias Knightly on Jan 23, 2022 2:18:33 GMT
Knightly did not think much of her calling his name. He did not even think much of her quickly moving toward him. The reason for his not thinking much of these two actions was due to the third action from her, and that was to ALMOST kneel down at his feet and look up at him. Granted she was only bent over, but the was the most----"Fuck me," he muttered in exasperation of how unreal this moment hovered from his normal day, and moved to lean back on his desk in attempts to move away from her, because the side of her pretty face so near his cock was too much to process right now.
He knew in this moment he was going to get off schedule today. Damn her. Damn her and that dress and her need to put her face right there!! Thankfully she stood up before he brain begin working enough to snap at her and tell her to stand. He almost glared at her as she stood there looking all innocent and concerned.
Taking in a deep breath, he side stepped and walked around the desk so it was between them. The damn woman had just made him run away from her. "I am fine. I just need to walk it off." He explained, with a dark tone that was full of sarcasm. His breathing was still off, and he felt rather hot in that moment but was NOT going to take his jacket off just to prove a point. To himself. Since she had no idea of what was happening.
OR did she. "I assume the dress is your newest tactic for winning over your man?" He asked again in the same tone. When had she grown breast? Or more likely--where had she hid them for all this time??
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The Writing Girl
"Dear Miss Mirela..."
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Advice Columnist
Involuntary Maid
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
she / her
Tag me @thewriter
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Post by Mirela Camden on Jan 23, 2022 2:31:44 GMT
[attr="class","cbg"] [attr="class","cbgtop"] [attr="class","cimg"] [attr="class","clbox"] [attr="class","ctopline"]if you dream a thing once or more [attr="class","cscript"] ❀ it is sure to come true ❀ [attr="class","cline"] [attr="class","cbody"] The poor man! It truly must be bad for he was cursing and then placing distance from her -- presumably because he did not wish for his pride to be wounded as his injury was. Or perhaps to keep her from being concerned! Such a sweet thought indeed. Despite what one may assume from him due to his stoic nature, he truly was a thoughtful man! It only made her love him even more and wish to help him. He did not need to hide this from her! She would not judge him nor think him any less masculine for becoming hurt in her presence. The poor dear. If only he would allow her to help. He said that he needed to walk it off, but Mirela was unconvinced. His tone indicated that he was still in pain, hurting . . . strained. Oh how she could not bare it! "Is there anything I can fetch for you to help?" She asked, defying his nonverbal indication for distance as she stepped towards him again. "To help ease the pain I mean," she added on sympathetically, concern upon her features and tone of voice. His question brought her back to why she had even come into his office. Once again . . . her plan had miserably failed. She had planned to be sensual, seductive, alluring . . . and it had not worked.
None of this had worked! Alas, if nothing else, she at least managed to capture his attention in that briefest of moments that prompted him to drop the board. She supposed she should count that as success, but still, the disappointment of her failure was there. Yet it would be selfish to wallow in such a feeling when the man who owned her heart was hurting. Maybe she could help distract him from the pain through conversation! "Indeed," she said with a light smile. "What do you think of it Sir?" She asked as her smile grew a little, becoming slightly more playful. Perhaps this would take his mind off of things. And, perhaps she was fishing a little bit for him to reveal his thoughts. Selfish indeed but if it also served to help him, then the motivation was not solely for her own self interest. "Do you think . . . he would find it, satisfactory?" Continuing to step towards him. How oblivious Tobias was, for all she cared about was whether he liked it. Whether he thought it nice. Whether he thought her beautiful in it. [googlefont=Dancing Script][newclass=.cbg]width:400px;background:#000000;padding:30px;[/newclass][newclass=.cbgtop]width:400px;height:120px;text-align:left;[/newclass][newclass=.cimg]float:left;width:100px;height:100px;padding:10px;border:1px #aaa solid;[/newclass][newclass=.clbox]float:right;height:100px;margin:15px 5px auto auto;text-align:justify;width:257px;[/newclass][newclass=.ctopline]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:2px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:verdana;color:#aaa;[/newclass][newclass=.cscript]font-size:23px;margin-top:-3px;font-family:Dancing Script;color:#e5b2ad;[/newclass][newclass=.cscript span]color:#ccc;[/newclass][newclass=.cline]height:1px;background-color:#888;margin:3px auto;[/newclass][newclass=.clyrics]font-size:8px;letter-spacing:1px;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;color:#999;[/newclass][newclass=.cbody]font-family:verdana;color:#999;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;line-height:14px;letter-spacing:0.5px;[/newclass][newclass=.cnotes]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;opacity:0.8;[/newclass][newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass][newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:6pt;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass] |
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Don't You Read?
Mr. Knightly
Personal Text
Commoner
Rank
Owns Printing Press
Occupation
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Duchess
Offline
Tag me @knightly
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Post by Tobias Knightly on Jan 23, 2022 2:55:53 GMT
She kept walking toward him! Why? She kept talking about fetching him something and he almost said yes to get out to leave, so he could lock the door behind her--however as he was not a coward nor a man who gave others the upper hand often, he did not. He was going to stand his ground and--she was now closer!
Causally making sure the chair was between them so she could not try to lean down and check his his injury out again, Knightly decided it was time to take control of his situation before he lost all his control compleatly! "You said you brought in your article?" He asked, reaching for her arm and "helping her" take a seat. THAT might keep her from coming too close toward him over and over again.
Clearing his voice with a deep sound, he straightened his clothes as he walked behind his desk. Order restored--almost. He was talking about her dress. Which meant he needed to look at her. Stealing himself, he looked up at the dress. "It is very . . . modern in it's cut and fashion. I am sure you will turn more than just his head." Blood hell she had already turned his. He would be seeing her bent over before him all night. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he continued. "Might you give him a bit of warning before you dart up to him. Make sure he does no injure himself." He added with sarcasm, and reached for her article.
Not wanting to be an ass if she was really trying to see how men liked the dress, he felt the need to add on. After reading some of her past articles he often wondered if she tested them out of him, or perhaps others, before seeking out her love to do it. "You look very beautiful, Miss Camden. He will enjoy the sight very much." He told her, with a calmer tone. Then he looked at her article.
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The Writing Girl
"Dear Miss Mirela..."
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Advice Columnist
Involuntary Maid
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
she / her
Tag me @thewriter
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Post by Mirela Camden on Jan 24, 2022 17:53:31 GMT
[attr="class","cbg"] [attr="class","cbgtop"] [attr="class","cimg"] [attr="class","clbox"] [attr="class","ctopline"]if you dream a thing once or more [attr="class","cscript"] ❀ it is sure to come true ❀ [attr="class","cline"] [attr="class","cbody"] Mirela moved as silently requested when he helped her to her chair. A good sign! It meant that he was fine with her staying. Once she sat, her eyes followed him as he moved around the table to where his chair was. She was taking note of his gait, ensuring that he was not hindered from having hurt himself. "Yes, Mister Knightly," she confirmed knowing it would be far too rude to not answer her employer when he asked about her work. Although . . . she felt her heart pound with excitement when he looked at her and began to speak of her dress. Her article was secondary excitement to this. Her lips curled into a smile as he complimented it, saying that she would turn more than just his head. Not even realizing that it was only his head that she cared about! She let out a small sound of light laughter at her giving the man some warning. "I had thought to use the element of surprise," she admitted. And, it had seemed to work to some extent! For he noticed her. It was worth every coin she had spent on it. "It is after all, only his reaction that I care for. And only his head I wish to turn." Not any other man's . . . only his.
So when he continued and called her beautiful, Mirela could have sworn that it was a dream. He called her beautiful! Her smile grew into a bright one, feeling as if she could practically burst with happiness. She had thought that the best day of her life was when she had first met him and he told her of publishing her article. But, she may have to amend that statement. Perhaps, this was the best day of her life. The day when Mister Knightly called her beautiful. "Thank you, Sir!" She said with genuine appreciation, hoping her cheeks did not colour from the flattery. He thought her beautiful! This was certainly a step in the right direction to have him notice her. And now compliment her! "That is very kind of you to say," she added on. She knew that he did not know just how much the words meant to her . . . for he did not know he was the very man she hoped to seduce! But there was sincerity thick in her tone and reaction as she could not stop from smiling in this moment. "I am quite glad to know you like the dress." As the only man's opinion she cared about. The only man she truly cared about. Which did indeed leaed to her next question. "Is your leg well?" She asked him, wanting to be sure he was alright. "I did not mean to, startle you." Apology in her voice for the part she played which caused him injury.
[googlefont=Dancing Script][newclass=.cbg]width:400px;background:#000000;padding:30px;[/newclass][newclass=.cbgtop]width:400px;height:120px;text-align:left;[/newclass][newclass=.cimg]float:left;width:100px;height:100px;padding:10px;border:1px #aaa solid;[/newclass][newclass=.clbox]float:right;height:100px;margin:15px 5px auto auto;text-align:justify;width:257px;[/newclass][newclass=.ctopline]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:2px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:verdana;color:#aaa;[/newclass][newclass=.cscript]font-size:23px;margin-top:-3px;font-family:Dancing Script;color:#e5b2ad;[/newclass][newclass=.cscript span]color:#ccc;[/newclass][newclass=.cline]height:1px;background-color:#888;margin:3px auto;[/newclass][newclass=.clyrics]font-size:8px;letter-spacing:1px;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;color:#999;[/newclass][newclass=.cbody]font-family:verdana;color:#999;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;line-height:14px;letter-spacing:0.5px;[/newclass][newclass=.cnotes]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;opacity:0.8;[/newclass][newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass][newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:6pt;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass] |
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Don't You Read?
Mr. Knightly
Personal Text
Commoner
Rank
Owns Printing Press
Occupation
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Duchess
Offline
Tag me @knightly
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Post by Tobias Knightly on Jan 30, 2022 2:15:13 GMT
Moments ago he had refused to remove his jacket, out of principal alone--and that was the same principal that kept him from going to get a drink now. Knightly wanted the control and power that he had to be reflected in his actions. Even if he was the only one who knew it. Removing his coat because he felt warm around her, or even getting a drink because he needed the aid was lacking he control he would maintain.
She only wanted one man's reaction. Knightly felt an uncomfort at the idea of another man seeing her, and enjoying her like this. He wasn't sure why or what it meant but he was tempted to tell her that it was a bit much. That her dress would be better suited for another. But he could not lie to her. She was beautiful and he wanted her to know it. His writing girl had grown up that girl who had walked into his office with little confidence and clothes that seem to hide her more than display her.
He would hate himself if he was the cause for her to loose any of that radiance. More so knowing she would not hate him for it. "Yes well," He hesitated, not knowing what to say about a dress that was meant for another man. A very lucky man it seemed. "it was a smart purchase." Looking down at her article, he attempted to read it but in another realization he realized he could not focus on her words. "This looks good." He said, tossing it lightly to the desk. Normally he read the whole thing when she dropped it out. This time he could not see the words. He could only see her.
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