continuations

[unbr8kable]

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[crossmyheartandhope]

Yeah. I guess... yeah. If it's a punishment, should probly hurt a little.

[He swallows, audibly, as she steps closer; from this near, she can see the way his pupils are blown, the way his lips are parted just slightly. There are plenty of flushed splashes of color to see, from the tips of his ears to the splotchy pink mottling across his chest, to the place between his legs, hard and red and dripping, which has not become any less eager]

[He shifts again, at the mention of ground rules - takes in a shaky breath]

...if we wanna stay on track, it might... help. Having a couple rules in place.

[unbr8kable]

'Course. Punishment without a reason's just bullying. So I want my rules to be real clear.

[She licks her lips--wipes her hands on her slacks--tries and fails not to get distracted by how visibly aroused he is while negotiating corporal punishments--but eventually continues]

...Now. I picked out some nice outfits for you, and I wanna see 'em. But look what you did to these poor gloves. They're a mess.

[Frowning sadly (or at least attempting to), takes a step closer, towering over him in the heels. It's close enough that she can run the back of her hand down the planes of his torso, nipple to belly to hipbone in one fell swoop. Despite her words, the lace of the remaining glove is still dry enough to prickle across his skin as it goes, pausing somewhere below his navel]

We can't have that again. So, no touching without permission, and you don't come 'til I say so. You're welcome to beg but no guarantees...

...That work for now?

[Again, she seems to loosen character, despite her arched eyebrow the question rings a little honest--self-conscious, almost]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[His breath catches when she steps in closer - stutters in his throat, at the prickle of lace tracing its slow way downward. He can't quite help the soft sound that leaves him as she trails it over his nipple - can't quite stop the way his hips shimmy forward when she reaches the sensitive skin below his navel, and then... stops]

[He bites down on his lip, hard, as she lays out the rules - shifts again, all but outright squirming. Between them, his cock gives a hard twitch, a new drop of moisture welling at the tip]

Y-yeah. That's - good.

Should - should keep me on task.

[unbr8kable]

Let's hope so. If you were just left to your own devices, who knows what you might do.

[She smiles, eyes obviously on his cock, and leans in again--pats him gently on the head]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[The flush goes darker still, as he follows the path of her gaze; he ducks his head, finding something suddenly very interesting on the floor, in the corner of the room]

Yeah. That's -

Yeah. P-probly better I ain't calling the shots.

[unbr8kable]

[Hums, slow, as if giving this great consideration]

Probly so. Who knows what sorts of lewd requests a boy like you'd make.

[As she speaks she traces down his scalp; around his ear and down the line of his jaw before abruptly straightening back up--sauntering over to the hooks set up on the wall]

Here.

[And she tosses over a zipped wardrobe bag]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[He shivers, softly, at the feel of her fingers scratching at his scalp - leans into the soft pressure of her fingers, despite how dark his cheeks become at her words]

[When she tosses the garment bag his way, he's uncharacteristically clumsy - nearly fumbles it, only saving it from becoming a heap on the floor at the last second]

This, uh. This the next one?

[unbr8kable]

Yep. Assuming you can stand being anything but in the buff.

[And that's all; she just folds her arms and waits. From the feel of it, whatever's inside is structured but fluffy, and probably not too long in length. And if he happens to open it up, what's inside is not too different from this, with bold purple stripes and sea glass green accents. Her expression is eager measured as she waits]

[crossmyheartandhope]

I mean... the whole point's staying on track, right? So... so.

[He hesitates - draws down the zipper on the garment bag, careful, and slowly works the outfit free]

[His eyes go very wide; his cheeks and the tips of his ears are burning. He just stares for a beat or two - shifts again, not quite squirming but not far off]

Oh my god, dude.

[unbr8kable]

[Despite attempting to give the impression of looking coolly disaffected, it's not that hard to tell how closely she watches his reaction before she continues]

...Might be a little more boss villain than sentai, but close enough, right?

Plus...ruffles.

[Petticoats count, right? They do look as though they wouldn't be too scratchy...at least, not too bad-scratchy,,]

[crossmyheartandhope]

I-it's, uh. It's for sure got the ruffles going on.

[Another shift, as he runs his fingers hesitantly over the fluff of the petticoats. His cock bobs tellingly in the open air, and he shifts again, perhaps a little preoccuipied with the thought of how all that not-bad-scratchy is going to feel once it's on,]

Should I, like... you know. Go on and...?

[unbr8kable]

[She gestures, a light flick of the still-gloved hand]

Well, it ain't gonna put on itself.

[crossmyheartandhope]

Right. U-uh. Right.

[He swallows, throat working as he does - reaches around the back to where the zipper is hidden against one of those purple stripes, and slowly works it down]

[When it's open, he takes another quick glance at her face - reaches with hands that aren't quite steady to pull it on over his head. It's not exactly graceful, but it does offer a view of him stretched out and on display as he squirms into it. When it's settled in place and his face has surfaced from the head hole again, his face is very, very red]

[He shifts, and his face flushes darker; shifts again, back the other way, almost immediately]

[unbr8kable]

[She moves back to the chair as he contemplates the dress; hums appreciatively at the view from behind, the shift and stretch of shoulders and back and glutes. That same appreciation shows on her face, still heated with defiant, definite interest.

Delicately she crosses her legs, sitting back as he settles into the outfit]

What do you think?

[crossmyheartandhope]

I-it's, uh.

[He shifts again - fidgets with the hem, like he's not quite sure what to do with his hands, or perhaps like he knows very well what he wants to do with them and is trying hard not to]

I-it's, uh. Pretty fluffy?

[unbr8kable]

You asked for ruffles, you got ruffles.

[Though the ruffles are only part of what she's focused on. The mismatched length of his bare legs are one; the flush of his face and the fidget of his hands are another]

...Mirror's right there. Turn around, show it off.

[crossmyheartandhope]

R-right. Uh.

...right.

[Flushing darker still, he turns toward the mirror - keeps turning, to give her the full 360. His breath catches, at the movement; he bites down on his lip, hard, until he's finished the full, slow circle]

What, uh. What do you think?

[unbr8kable]

[Another hum, directed at his slow movement, or perhaps just the bite of his teeth into his lower lip. Her expression doesn't quite make it to innocent when she finally speaks]

Fluff it out a little, looks like the skirt's hanging funny in a couple places.

[crossmyheartandhope]

O-oh yeah? Can't... can't have that.

[He hesitates, then reaches for the skirt - lifts the petticoats and lets them fluff back down. He can't quite tamp down on the gasp that leaves him when he does - can't quite stop the way his hips shimmy a little]

[He repeats the gesture a second time, and then a third - squirms, and shudders, and does a fourth and then a fifth before he can get himself to stop]

That, like... that help any?

[unbr8kable]

Hmm, I don't know...

[He may suspect that she does in fact know, as she surely has not missed his first gasp. Even if she did, certainly one of the subsequent ones caught her attention, at least judging from the gleam in her eye as he adjusts and readjusts his outfit]

You don't think there's anything off about the silhouette? Why don't you smooth down it and see?

[crossmyheartandhope]

Ah... r-right. Good - good idea.

[He shifts - makes a show of smoothing it down on the sides. Hesitates - shifts again - runs a hand down the front, as well]

[At the motion of his own hand, he shudders hard - gasps again, softly, and rocks forward into it before he can force himself to stillness. He catches sight of himself in the mirror as he does: the flush and the dress and the way he can't quite manage to keep from squirming. His cheeks go darker still, but the humiliation isn't enough to keep him from running a hand over the front of the skirt again, firmer pressure than before, and a third time after that]

[Evidently he is very committed to getting this skirt to lie flat, because he makes as though to keep going, perhaps rubbing more than smoothing at he makes it into passes four and five,]

[unbr8kable]

[She uncrosses and recrosses her legs--shifts--waits until he's fairly far in before piping up]

Find the problem? Or are you too busy getting carried away?

[She looks straight to his hand with a smirk]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[His lips are slightly parted; his eyes have gone a little glazed, a little distracted]

[At the smirk and that pointed glance, he flushes violently red - does not in fact manage to take his hand away, despite that]

I - I ain't - I mean -

[Another pass of his hand, and he shifts again, tryig but failing not to press into it]

Think - think I found it.

[unbr8kable]

Seems like it, huh.

[Looks from his hand to his mouth and back, smirk widening]

You remember the first rule?

[crossmyheartandhope]

[A small sound leaves him, at that - perhaps at the words themselves, or perhaps at the slow drag of fabric when his hips shimmy in just that way]

I - jesus. I - y-yeah.

[He shudders, hard - makes to rub at the skirt down again, as though he can't quite stop himself from sneaking in one last attempt]

But you said - you s-said to smooth it down.