audition

[mjeevas]

The scene was dressed up like something out of a domestic advertisement. It was fake and showed a glimpse of something he wasn't actually offering, but there were enough snatches of reality in between to leave the future uncompromised. It wouldn't be anything this clean, this hopeful. The rooms were flooded with light and whatever warmth the

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[lionguard]

Every word Matt spoke seemed to settle at the top of his spine and then work its way down like fingers pressing along his vertebrae. They were left in the small of his back, in the pit of his stomach and in the way he was aching to have something inside of him again, to be roughly, mercilessly used. That hollow pain drove him away from the dresser when Matt told him to and he wanted to disobey but he couldn't have, not when desire was eating at his insides this way. It hurt so fucking much. He didn't have to look at Matt to feel the weight of his gaze or how much his own want was twisting in him and he wasn't trying to make this man marry him now, he wasn't doing anything but waiting to be fucked, obeying every edict in the hopes that the other man would give him what he'd promised. He went to the bed where the underthings were laid out, pulling on the garter first, rolling up the stockings one by one. The elastic of them pressed into the skin of his hairless thighs. Just the act of putting them on was choking him in humiliation and all he could do was try not to look at himself, to see his body incongruous with the white feminine lace, his cock heavily erect below the garter, his skin shaved strangely naked and smooth. He tried not to think about any of it, to just stare at a corner of the room and do what he was told because it didn't really matter as long as Matt got to see what he wanted.

Once begun it was easier to keep going. He put on the panties beneath the garter, his cock straining against smooth white satin. They were tight, they went between his ass cheeks and cradled his balls close to his body and he'd never felt so fucking emasculated. It was absurd, it would have been ludicrous if it were happening to anyone else, if it weren't so tied up in all of his goddamn fucking need. Disobedience or defiance seemed very far away now, like concepts in a foreign language; they had nothing to do with him when he was already so thoroughly used. He wondered briefly if they married if the man would make him do this every day, dress like a woman; he wondered what he would become if he lived as this man's toy every day for the rest of his life and the thought was so fucking terrifying that it dizzied him, his hands braced against the mattress for a moment, his body bent and his head hanging low and his lungs struggling for breath. He grabbed blindly for the next garment, the corset, turning it over and over in thick fingers that didn't know what the fuck to do with it and he finally choked out, "I can't."

Breath struggled in. He drew another, and another, until he finally had enough oxygen again to think and amended, "I can't put this on. I don't--I need your help with it." He glanced briefly at Matt but looked away just as soon.

[mjeevas]

Even just this half dressed sight of the man, caught in the stockings and panties made his mouth dry and his pulse feel like it was going to pound out of his control. His desire for him grew continuously, watching the humiliation writing itself on Leon made everything else feel unattractive and he did step forward to the bed when while the man held on to the corset as if he didn't know what he would do with it. He reached out, fingering the elastic of the panties, tracing beneath them along the man's ass, and he let go to take the corset from him, turning it and wrapping it around Leon's waist. "I wouldn't believe you to be a woman," he told Leon, "Even if we did paint your face like a whore and hide you behind dresses. But I still like the idea of it." He closed the corset around Leon while he spoke, tiny hooks meeting each other behind him and the urge to fuck him now was gripping him by the cock and making him nauseous with every attempt to hold back.

"Put on the shoes while I get the dress," he suggested, knowing Leon wouldn't be able to really stand in the heels long but it didn't matter. They didn't need to really move away from the bed. The urge to marry this man while he was dressed like this was a disastrous idea but he couldn't get rid of it either and he wished he had called someone over to take care of it so that he only fucked him as his lawfully wedded spouse. He kissed Leon's shoulder wetly, licking across it to his neck, and his fingers crawled down Leon's back to rest against his ass.

"I do want to marry you. I want you more than any of the others that have shown up here. None of them have been as satisfying to watch struggle like you are. I wouldn't be able to use them the same way I can use you." He let go of him, stepping away to pick up the dress. He wasn't very careful with it and watched Leon instead.

[lionguard]

He couldn't understand what it was about this that attracted the man, that brought him in behind as though there was a force of gravity between them to pull him, his hands on Leon's skin making him flinch with how badly he wanted it. It couldn't have been how he looked in these garments, there couldn't have been anything about it that wasn't absurd and laughable and ugly in spite of the way Matt's hands helped to dress him, closing the corset around his waist. It relieved him to let him do it, to clutch at the bedspread until it dented beneath his fingers and listen to the man and try to understand. He didn't, even after Matt explained why he wanted to marry him over the rest but he was far too deep in the thick mire of his degradation to see it from the other side. Breathing was something he had to concentrate on just to remember how to do it. The wetness of the man's kiss crawled along his skin and he closed his eyes against the urge to beg for touch, for any touch.

He remembered how to move when Matt stepped away. The shoes were already there at the side of the bed and he stepped into them slowly, the heels pushing him forward so that it was a struggle to straighten again and turn and reach for the dress that the man gave to him. It felt as though any moment he would forget how to stand, would go to his knees and not get up from them again, but he took the dress and pulled it over his head, the thing settling smooth and fragile around him, his body caught in the web of the other man's lust, of his lust, and he couldn't look at Matt looking at him this way so he turned again and went to his knees on the bed like there was a hand shoving him down, wanting to press his face into the bedspread until he choked on fabric. He thought about how he would tell him that this was enough, that he didn't want marriage, that the man could take his marriage and fuck himself with it because he was done with this, but nothing came, the thought was as useless and impotent as he felt dressed in the trappings of a bride. His fists dragged at the sheets and Matt's gaze on him was a weight he didn't think he could bear for another moment.

"Stop looking at me." The words were choked and his lungs felt as twisted up as the rest of him, every part of him in agony while he knelt there waiting to be touched. "I'll marry you, I'll do what you want, I'll do any fucking thing you want, just fuck me, just fucking use me, do what you said you would do."