continuations

[unbr8kable]

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[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.

[unbr8kable]

Don't seem like anything's down to me...

Think you better c'mere.

[She uncrosses her legs again, leaving her feet flat on the floor--pats her thigh]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[Another small sound, this one decidedly more like a whimper]

[It takes a long couple of seconds for him to scrape together the willpower to pull his hand away - another long second after that, before he comes to stand beside her, cheeks burning]

How, uh. How you want me to...?

[unbr8kable]

[Her cheeks are almost as dark, though she looks eager, not embarrased. She pats at her lap again]

Face down, of course.

[crossmyheartandhope]

...'course.

[He shifts again - bites down on his lip]

[Lays himself down across her lap, almost gingerly, and immediately immediately sucks in a sharp breath. He tries to adjust to a better position, but no matter how he squirms there's always the scratch of the petticoats, and the warmth her thighs through the fabric, and the way his own weight applies pressure]

[She was definitely right; nothing's down at all, and he can't help but shift, and shift again, and shift again]

J-jesus. Xia...

[unbr8kable]

Can't you hold still?

[Instead of admonishing her tone seems intrigued, almost in awe at how desperate he seems--at the urgent press of his cock into the meat of her thigh, warm even through the layers of fabric.

Her good hand reaches out to smooth from the crease of his thighs up to the small of his back, pushing the petticoats up to reveal the pale, freckled curve of his ass; continues to map its topography, gentle. If she happens to shift herself at all this, it is surely coincidental, and her voice is a little gravelly when she continues]

So you know why you're here. Are you ready for your punishment?

[crossmyheartandhope]

[When she asks whether he can hold still, he does his best to comply - manages to tamp the squirming down somewhat, even if he can't quite help another little shimmy from side to side, in the way that causes the fabric to drag just so]

[He takes a shaky breath in, when her hand traces the bare curve of his ass - makes another of those soft sounds, and presses forward again, before he can stop himself]

Y-yeah. I - yeah.

[unbr8kable]

[She practically purrs in reply, rubbing luxuriously over the supple flesh and giving a gentle squeeze--hoping for another whimper.

Regardless of if one comes, she follows with a sharp smack, low on the underside of his ass]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[The gentle squeeze does in fact earn a whimper, and a restless sort of squirm besides]

[Then comes the smack, and he jolts, hard, the motion pressing him sharply forward into her thigh. He takes a short, shaky breath in - shifts again, another soft sound caught at the back of his throat]