“I’ve laid some clothes out for you. Put them on.”
He walked into the bedroom, and frowned down at the bed. Shirt and tie, black slacks with the belt still hanging through the loops. The shoes he didn’t wear often enough for them to become comfortable. Black socks without the heels starting to wear thin and a pair of boxer briefs with the elastic almost entirely intact. Job interview clothes, funeral clothes, wedding clothes, clothes that itched and scratched. “Are we going out?”
“No.” Her disembodied voice floated down the hallway. “Just put it all on.”
He shrugged out of jeans and t-shirt, assembling the clothes on his body. Stuffing, tucking, buttoning, wrapping, twisting, and knotting. Wrapping the tie around his neck, checking the index card in the pocket of the slacks: Wide end goes lower and on the right. Throwing the strip of cloth around in loops and pulling it into a knot. The shoes went on last, leather pushing against his feet in places where the skin was soft and smooth, without callouses.
He found her, leaned against the wall as she walked over. Frowning and finding the ends of his tie, looking critically at the knot. Pulling it tighter, tighter, until she felt the muscles in his throat moving down the silk into her fingers. Smiling and loosening it a little, pulling it straight down his body.
“Stay.” She backed up, looking at him through her phone. A flash and a click, a few more shots, and she slipped it in her pocket. “Sit.”
He moved to the stool she had pointed at, arranging himself carefully on the hard wood surface. She sat down in the large, stuffed chair opposite, flung her legs over one arm, and arranged her computer on her lap. Smiled at him, and began typing and clicking.
He licked his lips. Fidgeted. Swallowed. Rotated his wrists in the starched cuffs on the ends of the sleeves.
She smiled at him, and walked over, straightening his tie again, positioning his hands on his knees, pulling his hair until he sat up straight. “You’re eye candy, and good eye candy stays still. Understand?”
He closed his eyes, nodded, warm feelings of surrender pushing out of his skin and against the clothes.
“I’m going to slap you for moving, and then you’re going to stay very still.”
Another nod as he licked his lips. So much easier to than think about words or talking.
The sound and dry explosion of skin across his face rocked his body, and dragged a gasp out of his chest. He swallowed hard, and focused on staying very still.
“And if you’re very good, we can take a break in a little while. I’ll get a nice ball gag, and we’ll take some more pictures. Red would go very well with that tie, I think. And if you’re very good, you can kneel on the floor while I feed you dinner. But before that, I want something pretty to look at for awhile, and I don’t want it moving around. Understand?”
He started to nod, then stopped himself. Keeping his lips as still as possible, between shallow breaths he slowly pushed out a dry whisper. “Yes ma’am.”
Copyright Jerry Jones, unauthorized use is prohibited.
5 thoughts on “Eye Candy”
Man in well cut suit as quiet room decoration. Works like a charm.
I like the detail about the uncomfortably stiff shirt cuffs.
(Someone should design cufflinks that can double as nipple clamps in a jiffy.)
Some of the feelings towards dress clothes may have been autobiographical.
Again, excellent. Thanks
[…] little projects, no cross referencing or tagging either. But just for an example, try this one, Eye Candy. Note the way he makes the act of dressing up seem very real and human, and manages to build up the […]