Past-Part Fills Part 7
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Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
“You.” Arthur stepped in front of the tv. “Will come to bed with me now. If you can get it up, you will fuck me. Your bet will start in the morning as soon as you’re sober. Because don’t expect that you’ll be getting your dick in me anytime soon unless I allow it.”
“Uh-” Alfred blinked.
Arthur started unbuttoning his suit jacket. “Sex. Preferably now, cowboy.”
And people said Alfred didn’t listen.
Although being throughly debauched while Alfred insisted on wearing that damn hat was a bit much-he’d have to bring out his captain’s hat at a future date, perhaps Halloween- he couldn’t say he hadn’t enjoyed himself.
He grinned as he settled into his comfortable Alfred-blanket.
-
Alfred grumbled as he woke up, his eyes pained at the light trailing through the window for a moment before he slammed them shut again, rubbing away his hangover.
He’d really gotten himself sloshed last night, he hadn’t had a hangover last until morning for years.
But the smell of food always did wonders for something like that.
Until he remembered it was England.
And his stomach sank even further as England appeared, a bag of McDonalds in one hand and a white box in the other.
He smiled, even though knowing that England certainly had something in store for him if he was trying to butter him up with breakfast.
But having England buy him McDonalds was something to celebrate, nonetheless. He reached over, taking the bag in hand and leaning forward to kiss England.
Arthur smiled into the kiss for a moment before pulling his head back and releasing the bag. He set down the box onto the bed gently.
“No more kissing unless I start it. No more anything, unless I initiate or ask. Understand?”
“...yea?” Alfred was looking at his lover questioningly, face already half stuffed with the garbage he loved to devour.
“You are mine for a week boy. My maid. You will clean, and I mean clean not this shove everything under the closet and bed version of cleaning that you seem so fond of. You will wear my outfit and...”
Arthur reached into a jacket pocket and Alfred choked on his McMuffin-Arthur had ordered it just the way he liked despite the inevitable tirade that he always gave-as his eyes fell onto the small vibrator.
“Some of these things are quite ingenious. You will wear this today, in addition to your outfit. Start with the kitchen, it needs a good scrubbing. And no, I don’t care how well you say your little roombots work, you will be on your hands and knees.”
The grin widened. “Speaking of knees. You will give me blowjobs whenever I feel like it. I’m sure you can figure out what I’m in the mood for.”
Alfred seemed to have regained his voice for he was stuck, apparently trying to say no in so many different directions.
Which he couldn’t of course. A small few drops of silencing potion blended much better in artificial cheese than he would have thought.
“Now, now...we made a bet. Reneging on that is very unsportsmanlike. Unheroic, if you will. One week, that is all I’m asking. To be my maid for one week. And I’m not totally inflexible. When you don’t make meals, ordering out is allowed. However, you cannot leave the house in anything except your outfit.”
“Which means I won’t be leaving at all.” Alfred said rubbing his jaw and looking at his wrapper suspiciously.
It had worn off earlier than Arthur had thought. He shrugged, knowing that his point had been made.
“It’s up to you, love.” He said, smiling in a way that meant leaving would be socially impossible.
“Now be a good maid and get the laundry, won’t you?”
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