by AE Lister
“Very nice.”
And he did look nice. The small pair of overpriced satin panties looked pretty fucking spectacular with his cock outlined in the front, erect and angled to one side. He’d trimmed his pubes again, so everything looked neat and tidy but still extremely manly.
“Turn around. Hands on the wall.” I pointed to where I wanted him.
He licked his lips and turned for me, presenting his gorgeous ass. I admired the polka dot satin then stroked my hand over it.
“So smooth. Maybe these were worth the price after all.” I pulled my hand back and spanked him over the soft satin…once, twice.
Vincent groaned and pushed his ass toward me. With a quick movement, I pulled the panties down and laid two more slaps on him.
He cursed. I pulled the panties back up, made sure they were neatly in place before directing him to the kitchen and sitting at the table. “You see all that stuff on the counter?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’re going to make us something with that, and when you’re not working on our supper, you’re going to clean my counters and sink and sweep the floor. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re very welcome, Vincent.”
I watched closely as he went about his tasks with a graceful competence. By the time supper was ready, I was fighting my arousal from the sight of his ass in those satin panties, his arm and back muscles rippling as he worked, and the vision of his cock straining against the soft cloth.
He’d made a simple meal of sauce and pasta with garlic bread, but my kitchen shone sparkling clean and the food was perfectly cooked and delicious. When we were finished, I directed Vincent to the piano.
“I want you to practice your scales for fifteen minutes, then work on this piece from last weekend, please.”
He placed his fingers on the keys. “Will you be watching, Sir?”
“I have to get some things ready upstairs. I’ll come down when it’s time for you to stop.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And I want to hear you working hard, Vincent.”
“Of course, Sir.”
Ah, so obedient.
I ruffled his hair. “You are such a good boy, Vincent. You’re my good boy. Supper was delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Sir. And thank you.”
I left him to it, walking upstairs and heading into my bedroom where I had a surprise waiting for my delicate-not-delicate boy. I grabbed the bag of things I had purchased at the mall during my lunch hour and dumped them on the bed.
With a growing excitement to see Vincent all decked out in pretty things, I sifted through the items. There was a black lace garter belt, smooth black stockings and a purple basque with dainty trim and lacing up the back. I had wanted to keep the outfit a little masculine because Vincent was gender-fluid like me, so I had bought a pair of purple Doc Martens that he could wear in public and remember wearing in private with this outfit when he did.
I could hardly wait to dress him up but sat and listened to his talented fingers playing the song I’d assigned him. It was a simple one but he’d mastered it already. He had a knack for the piano and I planned to exploit that. He was now my little project, above and beyond teaching him discipline and service and showing him how much fun two people who understood each other could have together.
I was wearing my comfiest pair of faded jeans and a white button-down, untucked, with the sleeves rolled up. I’d gelled my hair into random spikes and even put on some eyeliner for him. When I went down and told him to stop playing and come with me, he obediently followed me upstairs.
Once he saw the items laid out on the bed, he gasped.
“Oh, fuck, Sir. Is all this for me?”
I laughed. “Well, it sure as hell isn’t for me, Vincent.”
“May I?” he asked, reaching his hand toward the basque.
“Yes, of course.”
He picked up the dark purple corset and turned it over, examining the lace-up back. He ran his long fingers over the satin and lace trim. “This is so beautiful.”
“It’ll look even more lovely on you, sweetheart.”
His eyes shone when he met my gaze. “I want to see how I look in this. Like, now,” he said, eagerly eyeing the rest of my purchases. He saw the purple Docs. He looked at me, gobsmacked. “Did you buy those for me?”
I smiled. “They just screamed ‘Vincent’ to me. And you can wear them as regular footwear whenever you want. But they’ll look great with this outfit.”
“Thank you, Sir. I love them.”
I picked up the garter belt and held it in one hand with my eyebrows raised. “May I dress you, sweet boy?”
Vincent blushed so adorably that I wanted to kiss him from head to foot but we didn’t have time for that. “Of course, Sir. Yes, please.”
So, I did. I put the garter belt on him first, then the stockings while he sat and offered me a leg at a time. I had him stand so I could fasten the clips to their tops.
We were both breathing fast as I brushed his thighs with my fingers and smoothed the stockings. I couldn’t help feathering my palm over his erection under the polka dot satin and he gasped when I did, his eyes going wide. He parted his lips and the tip of his tongue touched his bottom lip.
“Fuck, Vincent. This is already too much and not nearly enough. You look fucking stunning.”
“Thank you, Sir.” His voice trembled as he let me place the basque around his waist.
“Turn around. Hands on your head. I need to lace you up.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Those Victorians were certainly into bondage,” I said as I pulled the laces tight. The silk hugged his torso in a most alluring way. I worked quickly to bind him into the ultra-feminine garment as my breathing quickened.
When I’d finished I turned him around. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
He blinked at me, unable to see how fucking incredible he looked. But he had to have realized it from my expression.
“Rocky Horror, eat your heart out,” I said, eyes running over his lanky form and defined muscles encased in such feminine clothing, not to mention his sizeable cock pressing against the panties.
My androgynous prince.
The basque pushed his pectorals up ever so slightly, the lace trim tickling his nipples.
I moved forward, settling my hands on the fine silk just above his waist as I impulsively bent my lips to a pinkish brown bud.
Vincent groaned as I licked at him, keeping his hands up obediently, but I could tell it was a struggle. I moved to the other nipple, using my fingers on the first, squeezing and pinching him.
“Sir,” he panted. “Oh, Sir. Oh fuck!”
I gave his nipple a final lick with the flat of my tongue and stepped back, giving him a wicked grin and a rub on his restrained dick that made him close his eyes and whimper.
“Now the boots.”
I knelt down, had him step into one and laced it tight while he looked down at me, breathing hard. Then the other.
When I stood up and stepped back, I shook my head and crossed my arms definitively over my chest. “If you aren’t Victoria’s Secret cover material, I’ll eat my fucking hat.”
He laughed. “Hmm-m… I don’t know if they’d approve of this.” He gestured to his dick, which looked obscenely delicious in the polka dot panties.
“Fuck ‘em.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Here… Look at yourself.” I guided him to my full-length mirror. “What do you think?”
His eyes widened and he touched the silk of the basque then smoothed his hands over the lace of the garter belt. “Oh, Sir, I love it. I love it all.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” I grabbed a black bag from the dresser and opened it, fishing out an eyeliner pencil. “Hold still.”
I traced his beautiful eyes with the black liner, then his lips with a dark burgundy matte stick, just enough to make him look like he was about to head out to the clubs.
He pursed his red lips at his reflection then reached his fingers to his chest and pinched his own nipple above the lace, closing his eyes and making a soft noise.
And I could not wait any longer.
“That’s it, you saucy tart. It’s over my lap with you. Now.” I sat on the edge of the bed, patting my thigh as I devoured his reflection. He lifted his chin and met my gaze in the mirror with the sultriest look he’d ever given me. He was a saucy tart.
I crooked my finger as I gave his reflection a stern look. “Get your delicious ass over here, Vincent.”
He smiled and turned, moving toward me with the sexiest sway to his hips, working the androgynous thing like he’d been born to it.
And perhaps he had been.
He stood obediently by my knee, his arms hanging loosely, but he didn’t seem to know what to do or how to place himself comfortably across my lap. It was going to be tricky, because he was so much bigger than me. In fact, I’d probably misjudged this.
“Hold on.” I pushed myself back on the mattress until I was propped against the pillows and headboard with my legs out straight and room on either side. “This might work better. But I want you to get me something before you climb on the bed.”
“Okay, Sir.”
“Go over to my closet and look on the right-hand side, by my shirts. There’s a hanger with a number of leather belts. Bring me the brown braided one, please.”
He stared at me, his lips parting as he processed this request. He closed his mouth, turned and walked to my closet. His hands trembled as he fingered through the belts to find the one I’d asked for. I noticed his breathing had ramped up considerably. My boy really liked this idea—or else he was terrified. It was one or the other.
When he turned, his face was flushed and the bulge in his panties seemed larger. He walked carefully to the bed and handed me the belt.
“There you go, Sir.”
It was a whisper as he stared at the leather of the belt when I took it from him and folded it, placing it beside me.
“Okay, up you get. Over my lap, if you please.”
“Should I take the boots off, Sir?”
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Vincent climbed up onto the bed with a sheepish smile and plopped down over my spread thighs with a happy grunt. I marveled at the sight of him draped over me in the fancy lingerie, his ass in those satin panties right where I needed it.
“Now that is a delicious sight indeed,” I said, smoothing my hand over him. I slid my thumb under the straps of the garter that extended to the tops of his stockings, pulling them taut then letting them slap back against his skin. He gasped and turned his head, gazing at me with his cheek pressed to the mattress.
I lifted my chin and pursed my lips in a kiss as I slid my fingers under his panties and into the crack of his ass. Vincent squirmed, grunting, as I tickled his hole with my finger then pulled it back and smoothed the panties into place.
“Hands stretched out in front, please. I want to make sure they are well out of the way.”
He obeyed promptly. As he stretched out, his cock rubbed against my thigh. He whimpered.
“Naughty boy. Don’t you rut against my leg while I’m spanking you. I’ll know if that’s what you’re doing and I’ll go even harder.”
“Yes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir,” he said, voice breathy with anticipation.
Let’s get started.
“I’ll begin with my hand over the panties, then I’ll pull them down for a real warm-up on your bare skin. I’ll see how you’re doing and we’ll move on to the belt.”
Vincent made a noise.
“Do you like that idea or hate it?” I asked.
“Like, Sir. Love, actually.”
I had thought so. “Oh good. I’m dying to strap you while you’re over my lap. I’ve always had good results before.”
“Yes, Sir.” His voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide as he looked at me from the bed. It was too distracting.
“Close your eyes, Vincent. Keep them closed.” Because I just couldn’t stay focused with that blue fire directed at me.
He obeyed and I rubbed my hand over his bottom again, smoothing the soft satin in circles over his buttocks. I pulled my hand back and brought it down.
Vincent gasped as the sound echoed through the room.
“One. Let’s go for ten.”
I did the same thing on the other side. “Two.”
He grunted and squirmed. His dick bumped my leg but I knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose. Not yet, anyway.
“Three.” I spanked each side, going back and forth, then the middle of his ass, then up underneath.
“How do you feel, Vincent?”
“Good, Sir.”
We were both breathing hard—me from exertion and excitement and Vincent from pain and anticipation.
“Now I’m going to pull the panties down.”
“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”
I reached under the edge of the garter belt and slid my fingertips under the waistband of the panties, pulling them down slowly to reveal Vincent’s naked flesh, pink from the spanking it had already received.
“Mm-m. So pretty.”
Vincent groaned and pressed his cock against my leg then froze. “Sorry. Sorry, Sir.”
“Good boy. Now quiet and keep still.”
I started slow again, nice and easy. He liked it. I could tell. He moaned and gasped and tried really hard not to rut on me when I could tell he wanted to.
So, I went a little harder.
He was still into it, but his sounds were more desperate and I could tell it was really starting to hurt. I took breaks here and there to bring him back to the moment. I tickled the base of his buttocks where they met the tops of his thighs. I ran my finger down his spine to his lower back. I parted his cheeks and played with his hole while he made lovely, beautiful sounds.
After I’d spanked him as well as I could with my bare hand, we took an official break.
I kept him where he was but grabbed some lube from the side table and squeezed it into his crack. Then I took my sweet time playing very thoroughly with his ass, sliding my fingers in there, pumping him deep while I rubbed the hot skin of his spanked ass with my other hand.
Above and beyond the deliciousness of fingering him, I was totally getting off on the purple basque and garters, stockings and boots. It was like having an eighteenth-century molly-boy on my lap.
I felt his cock pressing down on my leg and it was rock-hard. He desperately tried to keep still but he would lose this battle eventually.
“Vincent.”
“Yeah?” he breathed. He was in a dreamy subspace now, I could tell. I didn’t remind him to call me ‘Sir’.
“Does this feel good?” I asked, pushing my finger in him roughly and pulling it out, then doing it again, the sight of it breaching his ass over and over doing wonderful things to me.
“Oh God. Yes. Yes.”
“I love treating you this way, like my personal plaything. My sex toy. My boy toy. A sex object.” I jabbed him in time to my words.
He made the most beautiful sounds and I knew he loved it, too.
“I love doing what I want and having you lie there and take it. One finger? Two fingers? Three? It’s my decision.” I wanted him to feel truly objectified, because that was what got him off.
He groaned as I thrust three fingers inside him.
“Ah, fuck!” I said, drawing a breath between my teeth. “You look so dirty and slutty like this.”
I pulled them out and flicked his balls with my finger, making him gasp and jerk.
His cock rubbed my leg. “S-sorry! Sorry… Oh…”
“It’s okay, Vincent. All bets are off now. I’m going to try the belt on you and I’ll let you rut against my leg if you want to. I want to see if I can make you come.”
He moaned gratefully and pressed hi
s forehead into his arm, whispering, “Thank you, Sir. Oh, thank you.”
I picked up the folded belt, running it over his shoulders where they emerged from the basque and across his buttocks so he could prepare for what was about to happen.
When I brought it down on his ass the first time, he stiffened and cursed.
“You can take it. I won’t hurt you for real, Vincent. But safeword if it gets to be too much.”
“Yes, Sir.” He held his breath.
“Breathe, Vincent.”
The second time I hit him, he moaned long and hard. I brought it down a third time and he cried out, pushing his cock into my leg.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, high-pitched. “I’m close. I’m so close.”
“Oh. Perfect.”
I strapped him twice more, his skin flashing white where the belt touched.
He came on the third strike.
A wet warmth bloomed across my jeans as Vincent groaned, his body stiffening as the climax took him, his ass rocking on my lap.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I said, soothing him, stroking a finger over his hole as he shuddered through it. “So good, baby, so good. You did so good.”
He pumped my leg until the last of his pleasure waned then he collapsed over my lap. The sagging weight of him comforted me, thrilled me. He was mine and I was so, so lucky.
Once he’d had time to rest, I stripped and had him fuck me with a dildo until I came like crazy, clutching his beribboned waist and kissing his rouged lips.
Afterward, he let me take his accoutrements off and accepted my apologetic kisses.
“We will save these things, and I will dress you in them whenever I please.”
He smiled shyly, his face a mess of smudged lipstick, and sighed happily. “Yes, Sir.”
Chapter Nineteen
Vincent arrived on Saturday morning with a bag of clothes and his toothbrush. We’d decided he’d sleep over for the time being, so we could be together as much as possible.
For whatever reason—maybe because I’d almost lost him—I wasn’t frightened in the least by this prospect, only excited to share my space with him and have him serve me as much as he wanted. He could return to his apartment for brief periods when he needed to pick up more clothes or other items. But he was to stay with me otherwise.
