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Cafe D'Arc - Maid Jaune, Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2025-02-25 06:33:47 +0000 UTCChapter 3 of Maid Jaune. Weiss' turn now. Per the vote, there will be no butt stuff.
[line break]
Jaune trudged through the hallways of Beacon, still reeling from everything that had just happened. He'd slept with Pyrrha. That was a fact. A very real, inescapable fact. His first time, his partner, the whole thing. Holy crap. He shook his head violently, as if the sheer force of his denial could wipe the memory from existence. No, no, no. It wasn't like that. He hadn't just...slept with Pyrrha. That would be weird. No, this had been about helping her out. He just did what any good partner would do when their friend was in need. He was supporting her, providing relief in a time of...of crisis!
Yeah. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less.
Jaune exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he tried to shake off the strange mix of emotions swirling in his gut. He was back in his normal clothes, his maid outfit folded neatly in his bag, and now all he wanted was to get to his room, collapse onto his bed, and not think about anything for a while. Maybe ever. Still, his boss deposited his first paycheck and...wow, yeah, that little maid cafe was making a killing. Almost made him think he was in the wrong profession.
He was halfway to his room when he turned a corner and nearly ran smack into Weiss. Jaune stopped, blinking as he looked down at her. Weiss, for her part, had also come to a sudden halt in front of him, standing stiffly with her arms crossed. Normally when they crossed paths, she'd offer some sarcastic quip, roll her eyes, or huff about something he'd done wrong. At the very least, she'd shoot him a vaguely condescending look before moving on with her day.
But she didn't. Instead, she just...stared at him.
Jaune felt his stomach drop slightly. Not because she was scowling at him, or glaring, or sneering, but because she was just standing there, lips pursed, eyes locked onto his with an unreadable expression. It was weird. Really weird, "Uh..." Jaune forced a smile, rubbing the back of his neck, "Hey, Weiss."
Nothing. Not a word. Her icy blue eyes flickered ever so slightly, trailing over him in a way he couldn't quite place. Jaune shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling inexplicably exposed. She was looking at everything but his face, and her lips pursed like she found something she disapproved of.
"Sooo...what's up?" he tried again, his smile faltering slightly. He half-expected her to scoff, tell him he looked exhausted or that he was in the way. But instead, she just kept staring. A chill ran down his spine. He had no idea what was happening, but he knew one thing for certain: he needed to get out of here, "Well, anyway, I should, uh, probably get going. Long day, you know how it is." He chuckled awkwardly and stepped to the side, making his way past her. Weiss didn't move, didn't say a single word. But he could feel her eyes on him, tracking his every step.
Jaune resisted the urge to look back as he continued down the hall, his pace just a little quicker than before. That was strange, he thought, his brow furrowing. He shook his head. She was probably still annoyed about the maid thing, but it wasn't any of her business. Crush or not, she didn't get to judge him on how he made lien when she had a (generous) allowance every month. Not everyone could have SDC money, Snow Angel.
He had no idea how much he was gonna eat his words soon.
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The next day, Weiss sat primly in the back room of the quaint little maid cafe, her posture perfect, her expression cool, and her fingers lightly intertwined over the table before her. The dimly lit break room smelled faintly of coffee, cleaning supplies, and sugar, a stark contrast to the crisp professionalism Weiss exuded. It was an utterly mundane setting, unbefitting of a Schnee, but Weiss carried herself as if she were presiding over a high-stakes business negotiation.
Which, in her mind, she was.
Across from her sat the cafe's manager, a woman who looked to be in her early thirties, her uniform slightly more elaborate than the standard maid attire, marking her authority. She was a shrewd-looking woman, eyes sharp and calculating, the kind of person who had long since learned to read people like open books. And right now, she was reading Weiss like a bestselling novel. Weiss wasn't foolish enough to underestimate her despite her looks.
"So," the manager hummed, leaning back in her chair, one eyebrow arching in amusement. She swirled the cup of tea in front of her lazily, though Weiss suspected the casual demeanor was entirely an act. This woman had smelled blood in the water the moment Weiss had walked in and asked to "discuss the employment status of one of your staff."
"You're interested in Juliette's time, is that right?" the manager continued, her voice dripping with faux innocence.
Weiss pursed her lips, "Yes," she said simply, her tone professional. She would not be rattled.
The older woman's lips curled into an amused smirk, "Ah," she purred, tilting her head, "So you've taken a liking to our precious Juliette, have you?"
Weiss stiffened, her spine ramrod straight, "It is not a matter of liking," she corrected, voice clipped, "I simply believe there are certain...disciplinary measures that must be taken." Jaune needed to understand that actions had consequences. The rational part of her mind told her that he wasn't doing anything wrong, but she stamped it out. He'd...He'd offended her by acting like such a fool. She couldn't rest until she paid him back for that.
The manager took a sip of her tea, her smirk deepening, "Disciplinary measures, is it?" she said, her tone light and teasing, "My, my. I didn't realize our dear Juliette had been so naughty."
Weiss's eye twitched, "That is not- " She exhaled sharply, reigning in her irritation, "Nevermind. The point is, I require their time this evening, and I am willing to pay for it." She wouldn't let herself be rattled. This was a transaction, nothing more."
The manager hummed, tapping a manicured nail against her teacup, "That's quite the request. Juliette is one of our most...popular maids. I can't say I'm eager to part with her services so easily."
Weiss barely kept her expression from twitching. Popular? She highly doubted that. Jaune had only been here for a day or two. This woman was playing up his value. It was a classic business move: inflate the worth of the asset before discussing cost. Tch. Amateurish.
Still, Weiss wasn't about to back down. She had come prepared, "I am, of course, willing to compensate you for your trouble," Weiss said smoothly, reaching into her coat and pulling out her wallet. From within, she withdrew her sleek platinum SDC-branded credit card and set it delicately on the table between them.
The manager's gaze flickered down to it for only a second, but Weiss caught the subtle shift in her demeanor. Hook set, and she was biting, "Hm," the woman mused, sipping her tea, "You're very serious about this."
"I would not be here if I weren't," Weiss said plainly, tilting her chin up ever so slightly, "I require Juliette's services for the evening. I imagine it should be a simple transaction."
The manager smiled, the kind of smile that belonged to a seasoned predator, "Oh, dear," she said, voice laced with exaggerated sympathy, "If only it were that simple. You see, Juliette is special. I can't just let her go for cheap."
Weiss fought back the urge to scoff. This woman wasactually trying to haggle with her. It was almost insulting. But, she wouldn't let herself be drawn into a petty dispute over price. If there was one thing Weiss understood better than most, it was negotiations. Her Father may have been a bastard of a human being, but he'd taught her things that proved useful in life. Negotiations were just one of those things.
She folded her hands neatly atop the table, "Then let's talk numbers."
The manager's grin widened ever so slightly, "Oh, I like you," she said, setting her cup down with a small clink. Weiss barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course she did. She saw her was as a lien card with legs. The manager leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand, "Now, you must understand...Juliette is something of a rarity. Her charm, her grace, her ability to captivate customers - it's not easy to find someone like her."
Weiss took a slow, measured breath through her nose. She is talking about Jaune Arc. Jaune. Arc. Jaune, who tripped over his own feet on a near-daily basis. Jaune, who was so painfully dense he had no idea Weiss had spent the better part of an entire evening thinking about him. Jaune, who somehow managed to look good in a maid outfit, and whose voice, when pitched high enough, was annoyingly convincing.
Jaune, who she wanted to use said voce to cry and call her Mistress.
Weiss pushed those thoughts aside. That was irrelevant to the matter at hand. She forced a neutral expression, "I highly doubt Juliette's presence is so critical to your operations that you cannot spare her for one evening. Name your price."
The manager hummed, eyes twinkling with mischief, "Well...considering Juliette's...skills, I'd say-"
Weiss tapped her credit card against the table lightly, "I don't have time for games. If you're going to name an outrageous price just to test my patience, don't." Her smile was cold, "We're both professionals here, so I say again: name your price."
The manager chuckled, but Weiss saw her shoulders relax slightly, as if finally realizing she wasn't just dealing with a spoiled little rich girl who had more money than sense,. She tapped her nails against the table, thinking, "Fine, then," the manager said at last, a smirk tugging at her lips, "For an entire evening? Well..." She rattled off a figure with a number of zeroes that would've made most people walk away immediately without even trying to haggle.
Weiss didn't even blink, "Done."
The manager let out a small laugh, clearly having expected more pushback, "You really are serious," she mused, "All right, Miss Schnee. You've got yourself a deal."
Weiss slid the card across the table, "Charge it." The manager took the card with a pleased smile and stood, already heading to process the payment. Weiss sat back in her chair, exhaling quietly as she straightened her gloves. There, all taken care of. Jaune had absolutely no right to complain now. He was, for all intents and purposes, hers for the evening. Her maid, to be precise. And she would make sure he understood exactly why his foolishness had consequences.
Not because she wanted him in that maid outfit again. Certainly not because she'd spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about how he looked in it. This was simply about teaching him a lesson. Yes. That was all this was for. A lesson.
Weiss never did anything without a clear purpose. And that purpose had absolutely nothing to do with how flustered she felt just thinking about what was to come.
[line break]
Jaune arrived at the cafe the next afternoon, still feeling the residual awkwardness from everything that had happened with Pyrrha. He wasn't thinking about it. He wasn't. It was just a partner thing. Just something good friends did for each other. He helped her out, she got what she needed, and now life could continue like normal.
...Right?
He shook off the lingering weirdness and stepped inside, offering a sheepish wave to the other maids on shift before heading to the back to get changed. He wasn't exactly excited to be back at work, but after the absolute madness of yesterday, he figured a simple shift as Juliette would be downright relaxing by comparison. Just some tea, some fake smiles, maybe a few ketchup hearts. Nothing too stressful. Especially if his friends made sure to stay away.
He was halfway through tying his apron when the manager poked her head into the dressing room,"Ah, Juliette! Perfect timing."
Jaune turned, eyebrows raising, "Uh, yeah? Something up?" He was still wary of the manager considering she just watched Pyrrha kidnap him like some kind of maniac. Sure, it was just a partner thing, but she didn't know.
The manager smiled a little too brightly and folded her hands in front of her, "You've got a special assignment today."
Jaune blinked, "A what?"
The manager waved a hand dismissively, "A personal client."
Jaune frowned, "Personal client?" That was new. Normally, he just worked the floor like everyone else, taking tables and performing whatever ridiculous services were requested. The closest he'd come to 'personal service' was when some lady had wanted him to feed her cake piece by piece, which had been horribly awkward, but still technically part of his job.
"Yup! A very special one," the manager said, her tone light and breezy in a way that immediately set Jaune on edge.
"...Okay," Jaune said slowly, "Who is it?"
The manager chuckled, waving a finger at him, "Ah-ah, no spoilers, Juliette. You'll find out soon enough."
Jaune's frown deepened. Something about this didn't feel right, "But-"
"Now, now," the manager cut him off, stepping forward and adjusting the bow on his apron, "Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Just put on that sweet smile of yours and do your best."
Jaune stiffened at the phrasing. That didn't sound good, "Look," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Can I at least get some details? Like, where am I going? What am I doing? Is this just a normal thing or...?"
"Oh, it's very normal," the manager assured him with an innocent smile that was definitely not innocent, "Just think of it as a private session. A client was very interested in having our Juliette all to themselves for the evening, and they paid quite handsomely for the privilege." Themselves? He didn't like how she kept even the client's gender secret. Most people who went to places like this were guys, but there was a growing female customer base in recent years.
Jaune shifted from one foot to another, "Wait. Someone paid for this?"
The manager beamed, "Oh, absolutely. And let me tell you, they spared no expense."
Jaune paled. That didn't sound promising. That didn't sound promising at all, "I, uh, don't know how I feel about this," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head.
The manager gave him a playful nudge, "Oh, relax, Juliette. You're going to be fine. It's just one evening. Just put on your best maid persona, bat those lashes, and go with the flow. You're going to make us both a lot of money!" Jaune groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Why did it feel like he was walking into a trap? "Oh, and one more thing!" the manager added, just as Jaune was about to protest again, "Don't forget the outfit! It's crucial."
Jaune flinched, "I already figured, but should I even ask why?"
The manager gave him an amused look, as if he were being particularly slow, "Because it's what the client wants."
He opened his mouth to argue, but the manager was already turning on her heel and waving him off, "Hurry up and get ready! You wouldn't want to disappoint them, would you?" And then she walked off before Jaune could get another word in. The blonde's shoulders sagged. Maybe he should've gotten another job...
Hours later, Jaune walked through the streets of Vale, his hands clutching the hem of his maid skirt as he tried to keep his head down and move quickly. The less attention he drew to himself, the better. Unfortunately, that plan was failing miserably.
It wasn't like he wasn't used to being stared at while wearing the outfit - he worked at a maid cafe, after all. Still, there was a huge difference between getting ogled in a controlled environment where he could awkwardly laugh it off and getting catcalled in the middle of the street by complete strangers. There was a reason he changed in and out of his uniform in the cafe itself rather than going down from Beacon like that.
And the weird part? It wasn't just guys.
A group of women passed him not ten minutes ago, giggling behind their hands before one of them had audibly whispered, "Damn, those legs..." while another whistled. He hadn't even known what to do in that situation. What was the proper etiquette for being checked out by women while crossdressing? Why didn't he have this much luck when he was out in his regular outfit? Wasn't armor sexy? And he had a cool hoodie too! Come on!
He shuddered, hurrying his pace. Focus, Jaune. Just get to the hotel. Do the job. Get out.
The manager hadn't given him any details about his client, but from the sheer fanciness of the place, they had to be loaded. The hotel in question was one of Vale's premier luxury establishments, the kind of place reserved for high society types and people with more Lien than they knew what to do with. The lobby alone looked like it belonged in a palace. Gleaming floors, chandeliers, and a live pianist(!) playing soft music near the grand staircase. Like, not even at a restaurant, but at the freaking lobby. This place screamed 'money to burn'.
Jaune tried not to feel incredibly out of place as he walked up to the front desk. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes, looked him up and down the moment he approached. Her expression was flat, suspicious, "Can I...help you?" she asked slowly, her tone suggesting she didn't think he belonged there.
Jaune cleared his throat, standing up straighter and doing his best to sound professional while still masking his voice, "Uh, yeah. I'm here to see someone in room...1308?"
The woman's expression barely changed, but he saw the moment it clicked. Her eyes flickered with understanding, and her mouth curled into the faintest smirk, "Ah," she said simply, before reaching under the desk and pulling out a keycard.
Jaune frowned, "That's it? You don't need to ask who I am or-"
"Nope," she said, sliding the card across the counter, "Enjoy your night, Miss Juliette." Jaune hesitated. Something about her tone made him uncomfortable. She was definitely assuming something about this situation that he really didn't want to dig into.
Swallowing his unease, he grabbed the card and quickly made his way to the elevators.
He spent the ride up trying to steel himself. Whoever this is, just smile and go along with it. It's just one evening. He adjusted the frills on his apron, exhaling slowly. Besides, they paid good money for this. How bad could it be? He arrived at the thirteenth floor, stepping into the long, carpeted hallway. The lights were dimmer up here, adding an odd sense of intimacy to the atmosphere. He counted the doors as he walked. 1304, 1306, 1308...
Jaune stopped in front of the door, staring at the number for a moment. His stomach twisted slightly.
He raised his hand, hesitating before knocking lightly. A moment passed.
"Come in," a voice called from inside. A very familiar voice.
Jaune froze. No way. Swallowing thickly, he pressed the keycard to the scanner, hearing the soft beep as the lock released. He slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. The suite was absurdly luxurious, all plush furniture and ambient lighting, with a grand view of the city skyline stretching out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. But Jaune barely registered any of that.
Because sitting elegantly on the massive, velvety bed with her legs crossed was Weiss.
Jaune's heart stuttered. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. Weiss, for her part, simply met his gaze with an unreadable expression, her eyes cool and assessing. She looked completely composed, as if she were conducting a business meeting rather than waiting in a luxury hotel room for him, of all people.
His thoughts scrambled. His first instinct was to be confused - why was she here? Was she the client? But underneath that, buried beneath the shock, was something else.
Because, holy crap. Weiss was...beautiful. He already knew that, obviously, but seeing her like this, perched so effortlessly on that ridiculously expensive bed, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights. Jaune felt his stomach do a flip.
She'd even dressed differently from her usual prim and proper ensemble. Gone was the bolero and the stiffly formal dress she always wore. Instead, she was draped in a white silk dress that shimmered under the room's soft lighting, the delicate fabric clinging to her form in a way that felt almost deliberate. The straps of the dress crossed elegantly around the sides of her slender neck, drawing attention to the smooth, pale skin of her shoulders. It was sleeveless too, exposing the graceful lines of her arms. Toned, but not overly so. Weiss wasn't built like Pyrrha or Yang, but there was undeniable strength there, a lean definition that only enhanced her refined beauty. She'd worked for her figure. Every inch of her exuded discipline and grace.
And her legs...
Jaune swallowed thickly, his eyes betraying him as they drifted lower. The slit of the dress rode high along her thigh, effortlessly showcasing the long, creamy expanse of her legs. Despite her short stature, Weiss was never lacking in that department. They were just as toned as the rest of her, shaped by relentless training but still soft enough to be undeniably feminine. They looked flawless, smooth, and so impossibly enticing that his brain nearly short-circuited on the spot.
Jaune's breath caught in his throat.
She looked...incredible.
His mouth went dry and his heart hammered in his chest. She was the last person he was expecting, "...Weiss?" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper.
She simply tilted her head slightly, lips curling into something between a smirk and a challenge. He barely noticed the slight, tasteful makeup she wore. He was too focused on everything else about her. She switched which leg was over the other - right to left - and said her next words in a slow whisper.
"Close the door, Juliette."
Jaune hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping back and slowly, almost mechanically, pushing the door shut. The soft click of the lock echoed louder in his ears than it should have, sealing him inside the lavish suite with Weiss. He turned back toward her, heart hammering in his chest, "S-so, um..." he swallowed, his fingers tightening slightly around the frilly hem of his maid skirt, "You're my...client?"
Weiss didn't move,d idn't shift, didn't fidget the way people normally did when caught in awkward situations. Instead, she remained him composed, watching him with the same level of scrutiny one might expect from a royal inspecting their newly acquired property, "That's right," she said smoothly, the confirmation striking Jaune square in the gut.
His breath caught in his throat, his body tensing ever so slightly. Weiss had paid for him. Him. Jaune Arc, the guy who she didn't give the time of day to less than a week ago. The words hung heavy in the air between them, the weight of them pressing against his chest. This was real. This was happening. He'd been hired not by some eccentric rich lady looking for a servant for the evening, not by some stranger with money to burn, but by Weiss.
The girl he had a crush on. The girl he'd chased around Beacon's courtyard like an idiot on his first week. The girl who normally regarded him with thinly veiled exasperation or outright disdain. The last person he would have expected to pay any amount of Lien for his time. And yet, here she was. Sitting there, looking for all the world like a queen on her throne, dictating terms.
"U-uh," he stammered, forcing his thoughts into some semblance of coherence, "Wait. Wait. H-hold on a second. You actually- I mean, you paid for me?"
Weiss' expression didn't change. She just tilted her head slightly, her cool blue eyes regarding him with something that sent a chill down his spine, "That's correct."
Jaune swallowed again, his pulse thrumming in his ears, "O-okay. And...why?"
Weiss exhaled lightly, a sigh that was more irritation than exhaustion, "Because I can." Her lips curved slightly, but there was no warmth in the smirk that followed, "And because you need to learn that your actions have consequences."
Jaune blinked rapidly, his brain latching onto those last few words, "C-Consequences?"
Weiss nodded, her posture still impossibly poised, "Yes. You parading yourself around in that outfit. Making a spectacle of yourself. Drawing the wrong kind of attention." Her eyes flickered over him, a sharp, assessing glance that made him feel weirdly exposed, despite the fact that she wasn't saying anything particularly...suggestive. Her eyes trailed down his body and lingered at the small space between the edge of his sirt and thigh-high stockings.
Jaune's face burned, "I wasn't parading mysel-"
"Oh, weren't you?" Weiss interrupted smoothly, her voice dropping just a fraction, "I distinctly remember you wearing that ridiculous uniform with a bit too much confidence." She leaned forward, her eyes narrowed, "Traipsing around like you owned the place, shamelessly bending over and calling people mistress with that high voice of yours...
Jaune flinched, "It - it's part of the job! And I wasn't bending over!"
Weiss hummed, unconvinced, "Regardless, I think it's time you learned a lesson. So, I bought you."
Jaune's stomach flipped, "B-Bought me?"
Her smirk widened just slightly, "For the next few hours, you belong to me."
Jaune forgot how to breathe. His heart practically leapt into his throat at the sheer bluntness of the statement. You belong to me. She said it like it was just a fact, like saying the sky was blue or that Nora could see beyond the borders to things man wasn't meant to know. His entire body locked up, every single part of him unsure of how to respond to that. The sheer boldness, the absolute certainty in her voice, made him feel lightheaded.
Jaune's brain tripped over itself trying to react, "I- uh- wait, what?"
Weiss' expression remained infuriatingly composed, "Is that a problem, Juliette?"
Jaune stiffened, the name making him twitch. The way she said it was loading with meanining. He tried to speak, but at this point, he could barely form workds.
Weiss sighed again, feigning boredom as she reached for a cup of tea sitting on the nightstand beside her, "Honestly, Juliette, you act as though I've asked you to do something completely outrageous." She took a sip, her every movement controlled and deliberate.
Jaune stared at her like she'd just spoken in another language, "Y-You literally bought me."
Weiss placed the teacup down with a soft clink, her eyes narrowing slightly, "And? Do you not work at a cafe where people pay for your service?" Her tone was razor-sharp, cutting through his panic like a knife, "This is hardly different. You sell your time and body to anyone who pays. In this situation, that means me."
Jaune looked away, " It feels different..."
"Well," Weiss said, tilting her head slightly, "Feelings are irrelevant." She leaned forward ever so slightly, just enough for the room's lighting to catch on the cool sheen of her gaze, "The fact of the matter is, you accepted the job. You willingly agreed to be rented out for the evening." A pause. Then, with the slightest smirk: "Are you going to back out now?"
Jaune's throat bobbed, his entire body locking up as the weight of everything crashed down on him. Weiss had paid for him. Had specifically requested him. In any other situation, he would've been over the moon. Weeks he'd spent trying to ask her out. Movies, dinner, even just a walk in the park. And every single time, she said no. Now she'd hired him out to...what? This was a private room. Was she expecting him to serve her tea and massage her shoulders?
The crossdressing maid swallowed thickly, his body stiff as he stared at Weiss sitting there so effortlessly on the plush bed. The heiresses' expression was poised, her confidence completely unwavering as she looked him in the eyes. He still couldn't wrap his head around the situation. She paid for him and wanted to 'punish' him? And now she was staring at him like she'd already decided what was going to happen next.
His throat bobbed as he forced himself to find his voice, "...What do you want with me?" he asked carefully, half-afraid of the answer.
Weiss smiled. A slow, sweet, utterly mischievous smile that sent a strange chill down his spine. It wasn't her usual condescending smirk or her haughty, unimpressed expression. It was something softer, more deliberate, but infinitely more dangerous, "I simply want to show you," she said, her voice laced with a sickly-sweet politeness, "The consequences of your terrible behavior."
Jaune's brows furrowed in confusion, "My...what?" His hands instinctively fidgeted with the frills of his apron, "What does that even-"
"On your knees, Juliette," Weiss interrupted smoothly, her tone as light and natural as if she were instructing someone on the proper way to pour tea.
Jaune froze. His brain took a full second to register what she'd just said, "...W-What?"
Weiss exhaled softly, like it took everything she had to not just force him down. She gestured downward with one delicate hand, "I said, kneel."
Jaune's stomach twisted into knots, "Wait, hold on, why-"
Weiss lifted a brow, "Are you refusing a direct request from your client?" Her tone was dangerous, a sharp edge cutting through the sweetness of her voice, "Because I could easily ask for a refund."
Jaune's body reacted before his brain could catch up. He dropped to his knees, the thick carpet cushioning his descent, but the sheer weight of what he'd just done was enough to make his knees burn. He was kneeling in front of Weiss Schnee. Kneeling. Like a servant before a queen.
Weiss hummed approvingly, shifting slightly where she sat, "Much better." Jaune swallowed hard, his hands resting awkwardly on his thighs as he struggled to make sense of what was happening. His thoughts were still catching up to his actions when Weiss leisurely extended her left leg, her foot hovering just under his chin. The strappy high heel dangled from her foot, the smooth white leather winding around her ankle, accentuating the long, elegant shape of her leg. She waved it slightly under his chin, the motion almost teasing.
"Take it off," Weiss instructed, her voice light and expectant.
Jaune stared at the high heel, then at her, "Excuse me?"
Weiss gave a soft, nearly condescending smile, as if she were pleased by how slow he was, "Take off my shoe." Her tone left no room for argument, "And then kiss my feet."
Jaune felt every nerve in his body lock up at once. He almost - almost - blurted something out. Something about how weird this was, about how not normal this was, about how she couldn't just expect him to do something like that without any explanation. But the moment his mouth opened, he caught the way Weiss was looking at him. Like she was expecting defiance. Like she wanted an excuse to make this harder for him.
Jaune's lips snapped shut.
His fingers trembled slightly as he reached out, carefully wrapping them around her ankle. Her skin was warm beneath his fingertips, soft and smooth, yet the weight of her gaze made the action feel infinitely more significant than it should have been. He hesitated for only a moment before sliding the high heel off, exposing her bare foot.
Weiss flexed her toes slightly, as if testing the air, before arching a single delicate brow, "Well?" she asked .
Jaune's heart pounded against his ribs. He had no idea what he was doing, why he was doing this, or how he'd ended up in this situation. It was all supposed to be so simple. Yeah, he was crossdressing in a maid cafe, but that was only because he needed the money for some things. Now he was kneeling in front of his crush like some...servant.
But something about the way Weiss was watching him - calm, patient, expecting - made it impossible for him to do anything but obey. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the top of her foot.
The moment he did, he felt her shift slightly, her leg tensing just a fraction beneath his touch, "Hm," Weiss mused, tilting her head, her smirk widening ever so slightly, "Good girl." A shudder ran through him at the way she purred the words.
His lips pressed lightly against the top of Weiss' foot again, the warmth of her skin searing against his mouth. The moment lingered, thick with something he couldn't quite put into words. His hands trembled as they rested against her ankle, his breath shallow as he forced himself to process exactly what he was doing.
Weiss, for her part, remained perfectly poised, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. She watched him, her expression unreadable save for the faintest, smuggest hint of satisfaction curling at the corner of her lips. Jaune swallowed hard and pressed another kiss just below her toes, his lips brushing over the delicate arch of her foot. He felt the smallest twitch beneath his touch, a subtle shift in her posture, but she said nothing.
His heart pounded against his ribs, 'Why am I doing this?' he asked himself, even as he trailed his mouth lower, moving past the top of her foot to the elegant curve of her ankle. His lips lingered there, pressing soft kisses against the sensitive skin, feeling the faintest thrum of her pulse beneath his mouth.
This wasn't normal. This wasn't a regular maid service or just another shift at the cafe. Jaune knew that. He knew how utterly bizarre this situation was. And yet, the worst part - the part he refused to fully acknowledge - was that under literally any other circumstances, he would have been more than happy to do this.
Because it was Weiss. Weiss, who he'd once chased after like a love-struck iodot. Weiss, who carried herself with such sharp, untouchable elegance that he never thought he'd get anywhere near this close to her, let alone be on his knees in front of her, trailing his lips along the curve of her leg. If she'd just asked - if she'd just wanted him in this way - he probably would have melted into a puddle at her feet on his own volition.
But no. She literally bought him, he thought with a flicker of indignation. She paid for him. Like some kind of -
He nearly twitched at the thought, but before he could fully spiral, Weiss shifted slightly, drawing his attention back to the very real fact that he was currently worshiping her legs. He exhaled shakily and kept moving, his lips trailing past the delicate line of her ankle, moving upwards along the smooth skin of her calf. She was warm, impossibly so, and every inch of her felt softer than he'd expected. He tried not to think about how smooth her skin was beneath his lips or about how she smelled faintly of vanilla and expensive perfume.
Weiss hummed in approval, tilting her head ever so slightly as she watched him, utterly composed despite the tension in her body, "You're learning quickly," she murmured, the words sending another rush of heat through him.
Jaune gritted his teeth slightly, trying to ignore the way his heart leapt at the praise, 'Get it together, Arc.' He kept moving, his kisses reaching the sensitive spot just above her knee. His hands, without thinking, slid gently along her thigh, steadying himself as he went higher. Weiss parted her legs slightly, just enough to give him permission to continue, and Jaune's stomach did a nervous flip.
His lips brushed against the inside of her thigh, the heat of her body growing more intense the closer he got. His breathing was shallow, his pulse racing, his mind spinning in all directions at once. He felt like he was being pulled into something - something completely out of his control, something he probably should have resisted, but couldn't.
The worst part? A part of him wanted to keep going. But no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't forget the undeniable truth behind all of this. She paid for this, and no matter how much his body wanted to lose itself in the moment, the thought lingered in the back of his mind, gnawing at him.
If things had been different, if she'd just wanted him without making it a transaction, Jaune knew he wouldn't have hesitated. But this? This was something else entirely.
Jaune was lost in the moment, caught between the burning heat of Weiss' skin against his lips and the nagging voice in the back of his mind reminding him that this was not normal. That she'd paid for this. That he was being disciplined for - what, exactly? For working a job? For putting on a uniform and playing along with the ridiculous cafe's theme?
He didn't have time to figure it out before Weiss' voice, calm and collected as ever, cut through the haze.
"Stop."
Jaune froze instantly, his breath catching in his throat. He looked up in confusion, eyes flickering to her face for some kind of answer. Weiss hadn't moved much, still sitting regally on the plush hotel bed, her expression unreadable save for the slightest hint of...something. Her chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, her hands resting delicately in her lap, as if she were perfectly unaffected by everything that had just transpired.
Jaune was about to ask what was wrong when he suddenly felt her move.
His whole body jolted as Weiss smoothly lifted her left leg, pressing it firmly against his lap.
Jaune gasped.
Her foot - bare, warm, and dangerously soft - pressed over his skirt, rubbing over the aching hardness that had been building there ever since she'd first commanded him to kneel. The touch, even through the layers of fabric, sent a sharp jolt of pleasure up his spine, making his breath hitch. He instinctively tensed, his hands clenching at his sides as a shudder wracked through him, "W-Weiss - "
She silenced him with a single look. He swallowed thickly, barely holding back the whimper caught in his throat as she continued her slow, calculated movement, rubbing the arch of her foot against him, applying just enough pressure to make his cock twitch beneath her touch. Then, in that same cool, composed tone, she gave her next command.
"Take it off. We need to continue your punishment."
Jaune's brain short-circuited. His face burned red-hot, his breath came in shallow gasps, and his entire body felt trapped beneath her gaze. He knew what she was asking. What she wanted. But even in the thick, suffocating air of the moment, he couldn't help but feel the strangest, most ridiculous urge to sigh.
Seriously? Again with the punishment thing? Even with Weiss teasing him like this, with her foot pressing down against his most sensitive spot and making him tremble under her touch, he couldn't help but mentally complain. What was with her? Why was she so obsessed with 'disciplining' him? What lesson was she even trying to teach?
He was literally just doing his job! He hadn't committed some grand offense, hadn't gone out of his way to annoy her (this time), hadn't even talked to her before this whole insane series of events began! And yet, here he was, being punished for...for what? For existing? For wearing a maid dress? For looking good in it?
His mind screeched to a halt. Wait. Was that it? Was she just mad that he'd pulled it off? That he had somehow - against all odds - actually looked goodin something she probably thought should have been humiliating? That couldn't be it...right?
His thoughts were still stumbling over themselves when Weiss' foot pressed down just a little harder, dragging him back into reality with a sharp, shivering inhale. He looked up at her, his face utterly wrecked with confusion, embarrassment, and heat, only to see her staring back with the same unreadable expression, her smirk barely there but all too knowing, "I told you to take it off, Jaune," she murmured, her voice velvety smooth, as if she hadn't just shattered his entire sense of reality, "I still have to continue disciplining you, after all."
Jaune felt his sanity slipping. This wasn't normal...but at this point? He wasn't sure he even cared.
He inhaled shakily as he forced himself to move, his entire body tense as he pushed himself off his knees and stood before her. His fingers trembled slightly as they reached for the hem of his frilly skirt, hesitating for only a moment before tugging it down. The fabric slid past his hips, pooling at his feet in a heap of lace and frills, leaving him standing there in nothing but the maid uniform's stockings, garters, and his underwear.
Or, well...what had been his underwear. Weiss had been very clear about what she wanted.
Jaune swallowed hard, his face burning as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pushed them down as well, fully exposing his hard cock. The cool hotel air sent a shiver through his body, his skin hypersensitive, his pulse hammering in his ears as he forced himself to look up at Weiss.
And what he saw made his breath catch.
Weiss was grinning. But not her usual smirk of superiority, not the prim and proper mask she wore at Beacon. No, this was something sharper, something downright predatory.
She didn't say anything at first. She just watched him. Her eyes raked over his exposed form, her pupils dilating just slightly as her lips curled with satisfaction. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, she leaned back onto the bed, shifting her weight onto her elbows as she arched her back ever so slightly. The soft lighting of the hotel suite caught against the pale skin of her thighs as she hiked up the hem of her dress, gathering the expensive fabric and pushing it up to her waist, revealing the lacy lingerie that barely covered her.
Jaune sucked in a sharp breath as he watched her lift her hips, her hands slipping under the waistband of her lingerie and slowly dragging it down, peeling the delicate material away and exposing herself to him entirely. Her cleanly shaved pussy seemed to taunt him, and he grit his teeth to stop the urge to get down on his knees again and lick between her legs. He'd done enough of that already, he told himself. And yet, he couldn't deny that the sight before him only made his cock harder.
His throat tightened. His mind blanked. She wanted him. This wasn't teasing anymore. This wasn't some game of power. This was real.
And he knew exactly what she expected from him.
Jaune stepped forward, his body moving on instinct, his hands reaching out to steady himself as he lowered himself over her. His mouth was already parting, his breathing shallow as he-
"Good," Weiss purred, her voice sultry but undeniably smug, "It seems you're finally learning your place." Jaune froze mid-motion, his entire body locking up as his brain screeched to a halt. Weiss hummed approvingly, clearly enjoying the sight of him hovering there, stunned into silence, "It took some effort," she continued, her voice dripping with satisfaction, "But at last, you're beginning to understand the importance of discipline."
Jaune's eye twitched.
Oh my god, she was ruining the moment. He'd just started getting into it, just processed what was happening - that Weiss Schnee wanted him and was openly showing it.
And now she was talking about punishing him? Again?!
Weiss, completely unaware - or worse, completely aware - of how utterly frustrating she was, exhaled softly and shifted beneath him, hooking one leg around his waist to pull him closer, "Consider this your final lesson, Jaune," she murmured, her smirk positively wicked, "A proper consequence for your horrid behavior."
Jaune clenched his jaw, his entire sense of attraction battling against the very real urge to roll his eyes into another dimension. Why the hell did he have a crush on her again...?
The (forced) sexy maid moved inside her, thrusting in and out with steady motions, his body responding instinctively to the overwhelming heat, the impossible tightness wrapped around his dick. It felt amazing - physically, at least. His breath hitched with each movement, pleasure building with every push and pull. It was just like how he imagined she'd be. The warmth of her quim, the smell of her perfume, her voice in his ear...
But Brothers, his heart really wasn't in it. At least when he did it with Pyrrha, it was for a reason. That had been about helping a friend in need, supporting his partner, providing her with relief, even if she'd been weirdly flustered about the whole thing.
But this? This was something else entirely. This was Weiss Schnee. This was 'punishment'. This was some bizarre, incomprehensible power trip that he definitely didn't understand, and at this point, wasn't even going to try to understand. He was literally fucking Weiss Schnee while wearing a maid dress. The sheer absurdity of the situation was making it impossible to focus.
His hands gripped her hips tightly as he moved, his breathing shallow, his skin slick with sweat. Weiss gasped beneath him, her nails dragging lightly over his back, her body arching slightly as she hummed in pleasure. Weiss was (probably) a virgin. Despite how domineering she acted before, he could tell that she wasn't nearly as used to it as she pretended she was. She squirmed with every move he made, and pulling his cock back was a struggle with how tightly her inner walls clung to him.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Weiss mumbled, all propietry forgotten. Her nails scratched along his back, her pussy lips trembling around his dick. She was smaller than Pyrrha, and without her heels, he practically towered over her. His girthy cock started to slip in and out with more ease now, his body moving on autopilot. Not that she was on her back with her legs spread, it honestly wasn't that different from the night he shared with Pyrrha.
...At least, that was what he wanted to say.
Jaune's brain was detaching from reality. How had he ended up here? This felt like a fever dream. No. Worse. This felt like the kind of dream he'd jolt awake from in a cold sweat, only to sit up in bed, stare at the ceiling, and mutter, What the fuck was that?
Weiss moaned softly, shifting beneath him, urging him to move faster. He obeyed on instinct, his body responding even as his soul was practically sitting on the sidelines, arms crossed, shaking its head in exhausted disbelief. This should have been everything past-him wanted. Weiss - his Snow Angel - squirming and and begging him to fuck her harder He should have been overjoyed. Instead, all he could think was how he really should have just stuck to his shift.
His hips began to thrust faster. Harder. Maybe if he kept her moaning she wouldn't demand he call her Mistress again, "Yes, yes!" Weiss cried, her legs wrapping around his waist, "Face your- ngh! Face your discipline like a woman, Juliette!" Gods damn it! Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut?
He wasn't going to drag it out. After a few more thrusts, he slammed himself inside her up to the hilt, practically rattling Weiss. The heiress' eyes shot open and she came, staining the silk sheets and his cock in her fluids.
Jaune wasn't so far gone that he was going to do something stupid. Powering through the legs wrapped around his waist, Jaune pulled back and removed his cock from Weiss' cunt seconds before he came. His sement splattered against her stomach and thighs, almost blending into the alabaster skin. She almost looked disappointed that he didn't cum inside, but there was no chance of that. If he did, he'd have to take responsibility, and he did not want to tell any future kids that he met their mother because she bought him while he was crossdressing.
"..So, are we-"
"I hope you don't think we're done." Weiss said. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with her pants and she looked up at him through her sweat-matted hair, "I paid for multiple hours, Juliette, and I intend to get my money's worth."
"Can't you at least call me Jaune?" He groaned.
"No. And don't forget, it's Mistress."
Jaune sighed and readied himself for round two.
[line break]
Hours later, Jaune lay flat on his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling, his brain utterly fried. The expensive silk sheets of the hotel bed were soft beneath him, and Weiss' warmth was still pressed against his side, but mentally? He was nowhere near here. He was floating somewhere outside of his own body, watching his past self make a series of incredibly questionable life choices. Not just putting on that damn uniform for the sake of cold, hard Lien, but just having a crush on Weiss in the first place.
This entire night had been a mess. He'd gone from a normal, if slightly humiliating, cafe shift to being bought by Weiss Schnee, forced to grovel at her feet, subjected to some kind of deranged aristocratic discipline session, and then...well. This.
His scroll beeped. Jaune twitched slightly, blinking as he glanced toward the nightstand. The soft glow of his screen showed a simple notification: [Your session has ended. Thank you for your service!]
Oh, thank god. Jaune let out a slow breath, already moving to sit up. He needed to go. He needed to leave before Weiss came up with some new, even more convoluted punishment. He could get dressed, go back to Beacon, take a long shower, and then...never think about this again.
But just as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, Weiss' voice, smooth and unwavering, cut through the air, "I want to extend the session."
Jaune froze. Oh so slowly, he turned his head to look at her. Weiss was sitting up against the headboard, completely composed despite her thoroughly ruined appearance. Her hair was a mess, her face still flushed, her chest rising and falling with even breaths. But somehow, somehow, she still managed to look pristine. Jaune stared at her, "Come again?" he asked dumbly.
Weiss met his gaze, eyes sharp, "I'm extending our session."
Jaune felt something deep in his soul crack, "Why?!" he asked, voice edging toward exasperation, "What else is there to do? You already punished me for..." he waved a hand vaguely, "...Whatever it is you think I did."
Weiss, to his growing horror, smirked, "Oh, Juliette," she said sweetly, tilting her head slightly, "Discipline is a long process. You don't expect to be completely reformed after one night, do you?" Jaune stared at her. A long, tired stare that conveyed the exact depths of his exhaustion. He was about to argue, about to stand up and walk out, when Weiss suddenly reached to the side of the bed, pulled out something from a bag on the floor, and tossed it onto his lap.
Jaune blinked, looking down. It took him a second to process what he was looking at. An Atlesian Specialist uniform. No, wait, a woman's Atlesian Specialist uniform. He squinted, "Uh. Weiss?" He lifted the outfit slightly, inspecting it, "Why do you have this?"
Weiss sat back against the pillows, arms crossed, expression completely neutral, "Because I want you to wear it."
Jaune raised a brow, still holding the uniform in his hands, "...Why?"
Weiss' expression didn't change, "Because."
Jaune gave her a slow, unimpressed look, "Because what?"
Weiss exhaled sharply, looking vaguely irritated that she had to explain herself, "Because I want to discipline you in a new setting."
Jaune's eye twitched, "A new setting?"
Weiss nodded, "Yes." Then, as if she were saying something completely normal, she continued, "For the duration of this next session, I'll be calling you Winter. You'll still be calling me Mistress, of course, but it'll be more than that. I expect praise and lavish worship. You'll be complimenting on a multitude of things. My skills, my progress, and how much better I've gotten at summoning." He almost pointed out that she couldn't summon.
Jaune paused, "Wait," he said slowly, "Isn't Winter the name of your older sister?" Weiss immediately stiffened, her expression frozen. Jaune blinked again, feeling a weird sense that he'd just stepped on something dangerous. His brain did a quick, very concerned calculation, "Wait, isn't she an Atlesian Specialist too?"
Weiss' entire body locked up. Her cheeks, previously a faint pink from their earlier activities, darkened rapidly, "It's just a coincidence," she snapped way too fast.
Jaune stared at her. Weiss stared back, clearly lying through her teeth. The room was silent. Jaune, with rising dread, raised the uniform again, inspecting it with a newfound sense of deep concern, "Uh-huh." He turned the outfit over, "And, uh, where exactly did you get this?"
Weiss sniffed, turning her nose up slightly, "That's not important."
Jaune's eye twitched, "It's kinda really important."
"It isn't." Weiss' voice was firm, as if she could force reality to bend to her will.
"You got this from her closet, didn't you?" She didn't answer. Jaune ran a hand down his face, exhaling, "Weiss."
"Juliette."
He dragged a hand through his hair, trying very hard to process this, "Okay. Okay. So just to be clear, you want me to wear this. Right now. And for the next however many hours-" he gestured vaguely, "-you're going to be calling me your older sister's name."
Weiss' face burned, but her pride refused to let her back down, "Yes," she said simply.
Jaune visibly processed that. Then, in a flat, tired voice, he asked, "Weiss. Do you have a sister complex?" He knew about it, of course. Growing up with seven sisters led to a lot of teasing back home. And for the record, he didn't have one. Unlike weird Atlesians, Valeans had healthy relationships with their siblings. Just look at Ruby and Yang.
Weiss immediately scowled, "Absolutely not."
Jaune nodded slowly, not believing her in the slightest, "Right. Uh-huh." He gestured to the uniform, "This is normal, then."
Weiss huffed, "It is normal. Uniform sex is the most common kink in Atlas." He didn't doubt that, though he didn't believe for a second that it usually involved the uniforms and names of your sisters.
Jaune's lips pressed into a thin line, "Weiss. You paid for me to call you Mistress. You made me thank you for punishing me. You literally bought my time. And now-" he waved the uniform, "-you're making me crossdress again and calling me by your older sister's name. Does nothing about this scream 'weird' to you?" He looked her in the eyes, silently pleading - hoping - that she'd understand that this had gone above even buying one of her classmates and trying to punish them for doing nothing wrong.
Weiss, despite being bright red, refused to falter, "It's part of the discipline." Jaune didn't say a word. She lifted her chin, as if daring him to challenge her logic.
Jaune turned away from Weiss, mentally done with the entire situation. This was too much. Too weird. He'd officially reached his limit of absurdity for the night, and there was no way he was sticking around any longer to entertain whatever deep-seated sister issues Weiss was trying to work through, "Nope," he muttered, shaking his head as he made for the door, "I'm out. I knew I should've just stuck to my shift. Pyrrha was one thing, but this? This is-"
A scroll was suddenly shoved into his face. Jaune went cross-eyed as he stared at the glaringly bright screen way too close to his face.
And then his brain shut down. Because that? That was a lot of zeroes. His eyes flicked down, his focus sharpening as he processed the number in front of him. The exact amount Weiss had typed out as an offer. No words, no hagglign, just a number.
It was...obscene. It was stupid. It was...
...so much money.
This wasn't a normal amount to pay someone for anything. This was criminally excessive, the kind of number only people with 'fuck you' amounts of cash could afford to throw out. This was enough to buy the latest scroll model and still have Lien left over for months. This was practically a bribe from the heavens.
Jaune's mouth went dry. His legs felt weak and he almost collapsed at the list of things he could buy with that cash. He might've even been able to quit this horrible job as long as he was smart about it and made a few investments. He heard Vacuan cheese was doing really well.
Weiss, still holding the scroll in front of his face, tilted her head smugly, "So?" she said smoothly, "What will it be, Winter?"
He almost snapped back at her for that, but the sheer weight of the offer staring him in the face was making it very hard to form words. He looked at the number, then at Weiss, then at the number again. Weiss smirked, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned back against the pillows, infuriatingly sure that she'd already won.
Jaune sighed. He hated that she was right, "...Fine," he muttered, rubbing his temples.
Weiss perked up. She looked way too excited, "I didn't hear you."
Jaune groaned, dragging a hand down his face, "I said fine. I'll do it."
Weiss' smirk turned into something far too self-satisfied, "That's more like it."
Jaune exhaled, long and slow, trying to remind himself that this was worth it. That he was walking out of this with more money than he'd probably ever see in months working at the cafe. And hey, he was getting paid to fuck Weiss Schnee! That was a good thing, right?
...
Oh, who was he kidding? Nothing about this was hot unless you were a degenerate like Blake. He sighed to himself as he put on the outfit, already creeped out at how it perfectly fit him. Did she have it adjusted? She only found out about his job yesterday! He sighed again and ignored her starry-eyed look. Just a few days ago, he would've given anything to have her look at him like that. Now? He couldn't care less. Whatever crush he'd had on Weiss? Dead. Buried. Never to see the light of day again.
Now all he could think about was milking this for all it was worth. If we was gonna whore himself out, at least he'd get paid well for it.
[line break]
Poor Jaune. He feels so objectified. Oh well, at least he's getting paid well for it. And this chapter has him realize he has a product he can market, so future women will either need to pay up or get out cause he can get free sex with Pyrrha whenever she needs help.
I'll put up a vote soon on the next RWBY girl. Till then, hope you guys enjoyed this one.
Comments
Syraxes
Calling him Winter? Nah, Weiss is WILD. She better be paying GOOD for that
Manuel amores morales
I imagine Jaune will at some point end up in a section with all of Team Rwby at the same time.
pilot puntastic
That was hilarious. Honestly it would be a crime not to have Weiss slip up next chapter and either call Jaune Juliette or Winter, heck maybe both.
nemo1986
Jaune also forgot that Weiss is rich, and the rich are often weirdos.
Rarcher
God his manager just literally sold him out like a pimp
The Brotherhood of Steel
Poor Jaune has discovered what it is to win and lose at the same time.
