"I won't wear this. It's just humiliating!"

you listen to his complaints, with a smile on your face. You played cards and agreed that the loser would wear a maid costume and sit on the winner's lap all evening. Scaramouche had to do it. And damn, how did he go with this outfit. He sat displeasedly on your lap, fidgeting, trying to find a comfortable position, blushing, as your uncontrollable hand reached for his waist. He looks at you with surprise and embarrassment

"What are you doing?"