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He was only the Boy. He’d had a name once—in the previous life of his small apartment and long office hours—but that was before he’d met William. Leaving that life, and the person he’d once been meant also abandoning his name. Steep conditions for most, but the Boy had done it so eagerly. That name had been like ill-fitting shackles. It had kept him imprisoned in a life gray with an apathetic misery.
In a better life he might had balked at William’s offer. In a better life he might have embraced his name, let it guide him into an adequate life with an adequate family and an adequate home. But no such life awaited him, so when the opportunity to become William’s toy—his Boy—arose he agreed.
That was the first of the decisions that brought the Boy to William’s home. The Boy almost never slept in the bedroom that William had provided him, but he was there now, digging into his closet for his favorite sweater. His skin was pink from his time soaking in the hot bath, and his his mouse-colored curls were damp. He looked as though he’d been drawn with nothing but circles. Round cheeks, round eyes, a nose that was little more than a soft curve. His plump body was nothing but rolling curves, and the sparse, downy hairs that decorated his skin had the same tantalizing contours.
“You’re taking your time.”
The Boy looked over his shoulder, and William was standing in the doorway. He looked as handsome as he always did, with his broad shoulders and dark eyes. The silver along his temples shone under the bedroom light. “I was looking for my sweater,” the Boy said. “The purple one with the lilies on it.” I could wear my shorts with it, the Boy then thought. The striped ones that Daddy loves so much.
For he no longer knew William by any other name. The man was Daddy just as he was the Boy.
William hummed as he approached the Boy. He looked thoughtful, but he always looked thoughtful. Even in his sleep his brows never quite unfurrowed. His hands were large upon the Boy’s hips, and they squeezed the flesh appreciatively. “You don’t need it,” he stated. He had a gentle voice that would have been described as soft-spoken had it come from anyone else. He leaned down and buried his nose against the Boy’s hair, savoring the smell of the mint shampoo. “I was thinking we could stay home today. I know you want to see the jellyfish, but the aquarium isn’t going anywhere.”
He nudged his knee between the Boy’s legs and spread them apart. As always, he met no resistance. The Boy basked in the attention. “Maybe you can just wear those panties I like so much instead. And that dark lip gloss too.”
“What if I get cold?” the Boy asked in response, his voice almost a whine.
The chuckle that left William was good natured. “I’ll keep you warm,” he promised. He pulled away from the Boy abruptly, and he swatted his toy’s large bottom. Only once, but it was still enough to make the Boy gasp. “I’ll get your panties while you finish getting ready,” William said. The phantom of the spank lingered on the Boy’s skin. But William was turned to the Boy’s dresser, rummaging through one of the drawers, so he didn’t catch the longing look on the Boy’s face.
So the Boy relented, and he sat down at his vanity. It was a vintage thing, with a large round mirror and accenting lights. William loved to dote on the Boy, and the vanity was one such indulgence. The Boy’s curls dried and looked golden under the lights as he leaned forward, applying powder and eyeliner and blush to his doll-like face. He didn’t usually wear false lashes, but he carefully pasted them along his hazel eyes. William, after all, seemed fixated with his makeup that morning.
He grabbed the lip gloss that William mentioned. It was an unusual azure color, abundant with a silvery shimmer. The Boy carefully painted his lips, leaving them shiny and sexual. “Beautiful,” William praised as he returned to the Boy. “Turn around, baby. Let’s get you dressed.”
The Boy turned around obediently, the stool swiveling beneath him. William knelt before him. Only a faint sigh left the older man as he settled on his knees, but the Boy knew that his Daddy couldn’t get on the floor as easily as he used to. He would have to show his appreciation to William later since he was making such an effort to help dress him.
William took the Boy’s foot in one hand, and he brushed his thumb over the painted toenails. The man savored every display of femininity, from manicured nails to painted lips to delicate panties. He preferred his toys no other way.
The stocking he slid over the Boy’s leg was striped, bands of sheer and opaque black alternating over soft flesh. The fabric stretched over the curve of his calf and his full thigh. William smoothed his hand over the stocking, and he pressed his lips to the Boy’s thigh, right above the stocking’s edge. The Boy shivered in response. “Daddy,” he whispered as he spread his legs, as though to beckon William to the rosy lips and the clit nestled between them, but his silent request was ignored. William instead moved to his other leg, and he slipped the stocking on with equal reverence.
“You’re a perfect little boy,” William praised, and a flush spread across the Boy’s cheeks. He then picked up the chosen panties off the floor. They were the same black as the stockings’ stripes, with ruffly rows of satin ruffles across the back. A black bow, too large for practicality, framed that excess. William held those panties open so the Boy could step into them.
The Boy thrust his feet through the openings, and then he stood up. William slid the panties over the Boy’s legs and stretched them over his ass, his slick pussy. And then William was kissing the Boy again, this time his lips pressed the Boy’s satin-covered pubic mound.
“Daddy,” the Boy finally protested. “I could have gotten dressed on my own.”
“I know,” William said, and he groaned as he struggled back to his feet. The Boy held out his hands, and William took the offered support appreciatively. “But I can’t resist taking care of you.”
The Boy let William’s lips ghost over his—wanting to kiss him, but also not wanting to ruin that lip gloss quite yet. “Then you should let me take care of you too, Daddy,” the Boy murmured, barely audible. “Let me take care of you.”
William pulled him close. His hands roamed over the Boy’s body. He cupped the Boy’s plump chest and his fingers rolled over the rosy nipples. Pale scars framed the bottom of those breasts, another reminder of the life he lived before he became the Boy.
William’s hands stroked those scars, and then venture down to smooth over the Boy’s soft belly. “How do you plan on doing that?” William asked. His voice was deepened by desire. They weren’t leaving that bedroom before they fell onto the bed in a tangled mess of limbs.
The Boy knew exactly how to show his appreciation. “Lay back on the bed, with your pants pulled down,” he ordered. He knew why William was so adamant on the lip gloss.
William blinked slowly, and then a gentle smile crossed his face. He looked younger when he smiled. “Sure,” was all he said before he kissed the Boy’s cheek. William unfastened his belt as he walked over to the bed. His dark slacks fell to the floor, as did his briefs. William laid back onto the blankets, and he spread his legs to reveal his own pussy. Dark curls framed his sex, so different from the Boy’s own bare pussy. The Boy wasn’t interested in that slick opening though, not at that moment. He crawled onto the bed, and he settled his small hands on William’s powerful thighs as he glanced at the tight anus nestled between William’s cheeks.
His mouth watered as he looked at the little pucker. He loved William’s ass as much as his daddy loved his own. He always felt an exhilarating rush of both humiliation and excitement whenever he got to worship this most secret part of William’s body. No one else got to see it but him, and he never wanted anyone else to else it. This domain existed for the Boy alone.
He leaned in close, and he kissed the anus. William inhaled audibly, as though he couldn’t quite brace himself for the touch of the Boy’s lips. The gloss marked the puckered skin, and then the Boy pulled away to admire it. He wanted to see the blue gloss upon that anus. The silver shimmer was beautiful as it lined that hole.
Far more beautiful than it was on the Boy’s lips.
His clit twitched with excitement as he drank in the perverse sight. His composure immediately dissolved. The Boy descended back on the anus, and he sealed his lips around the opening. Blue gloss smeared everywhere as he lapped at William. His tongue pressed against the anus, delighting in the feeling of the taut muscle quivering against him as it resisted the intrusion.
William’s moan was magnificent when the Boy finally invaded him. Tongue plunged into anus. Worshiping it. The Boy’s hands moved to clutch at William’s ass, and his nails dug into the flesh. More gasps and moans left William, and they were all musical to the Boy’s ears.
“Maybe you aren’t as good a boy as I thought you were,” William panted as he reached down to finger at his pussy. He rolled his swollen clit between his fingers. “Fucking your daddy’s ass with your tongue. And after you went through so much effort to doll yourself up for me.”
The Boy didn’t respond. He didn’t even want to breathe. He could have spent the rest of the day licking and suckling at William’s anus, as though he longed for nothing else.
William clenched his hole around that tongue, as though he wanted to pull it deeper. The Boy wished he was capable of such a thing, wished he could explored every bit of William’s insides. How many dreams had he had, of stretching William open to impossible extremes and crawling inside the man?
William pulled the Boy free from his old name and the life tied to it. He pampered him a luxurious life of beautiful clothes and delicious food. But what the Boy truly wanted was to be a part of William, to nestle himself within the man’s insides, to become truly inseparable. He wanted to merge with the labyrinth of the man’s insides until one couldn’t distinguish where William ended and the Boy began.
But instead he had to settle to the next best thing, to mouth at William’s anus and pussy until his daddy was left sobbing. The man was riding once such orgasm then, hips jerking as he plunged his fingers into his aching pussy. His skin was sweaty beneath the Boy’s grasp, but his toy didn’t relent. He continued to play with William’s anus, pulling orgasm after orgasm from the man. The wails and moans grew louder and louder, with William’s voice cracking over the loudest pitches. He writhed upon the bed. Only the Boy’s grasp on his ass kept him in place.
The Boy wanted more, wanted to wreck William entirely. See his beloved daddy come completely undone. He only stopped when William started tugging on his hair.
“Enough,” William pleaded. “I’m not young like you, you’re only getting so much out of me.” His voice was rough, his throat raw. His legs fell limp to the bed, as though the muscles that the Boy loved so much were melting away.
The Boy peered up at William from between those spread legs. The blue gloss was smeared across his cheeks and chin, no longer even recognizable as lip gloss. He was panting. Breathless. “Was it too much, Daddy?” he asked.
The laugh that left William sounded broken. “Yes,” he said, but he didn’t seem angry. “You evil boy.” He held out his arms, and the Boy curled up in the embrace. William brought a hand to the Boy’s hair, and he tugged at one of the curls. “If you didn’t wear me out I’d have you bent over my lap right now.”
The Boy hummed thoughtfully. “But you know I like getting spanked,” he pointed out, and William laughed again. His eyes fluttered as exhaustion rendered his lids heavy. The Boy ran his finger over one of those lids and marveled at how soft the delicate skin was.
William’s lips quirked into a weary smile.