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The yellow light of midmorning faded softly to amber across the oak floorboards. Here and there, red and green decorations dotted the apartment, and plates of half-finished breakfast still sat on the table with its two mismatched chairs.
“Open this one next.”
Viktor emerged from beneath the small tree, a scattering of fragrant pine needles caught in his long chestnut hair, an eager grin spreading across his face. He held out a shiny green gift bag for Jayce, scooting awkwardly forward so their stretched out legs further overlapped in a tangled embrace.
A syrupy warmth had long ago settled in Jayce’s chest at that wobbly (only mildly unhinged) smile. It was their first Christmas as partners—well, partners partners—more than partners? Boyfriends? That felt a little… anticlimactic for what they were. They were long past the stage of nervous smiles and meek “what are we?” lines of questioning. In all honesty, half the engineering department had thought they were dating long before Jayce even had the guts to fantasize about the concept. Viktor and his goofy grin that filled his hollow cheeks and stretched his usually handsome face in crooked angles, had become such a staple of Jayce’s existence that, a almost a year ago, when he finally found himself breathlessly kissing that smile from Viktor's lips it was already a foregone conclusion. They were partners, always had been, always would be, in whatever context that meant.
Pushing aside red and white striped tissue paper Jayce’s fingers closed around a neatly folded square of dark fabric. It unraveled as he lifted it from the bag, a soft navy shirt with bold white text warped by the loose waves and folds of the garment. He pulled it taut by the shoulders and chuckled at the now legible script.
Don’t be a d³x/dt³
“You know,” he held the shirt up against his chest, glancing down to judge the fit. “You could learn a thing or two from this.”
Viktor raised a brow, leaning back against his palms. “Do you mean to imply I am a jerk?”
“Only a little bit,” he snickered, lowering the gift to pool in his lap.
Viktor frowned, eyes narrowing. “How ungrateful,” he mused. “Hardly any way to talk to someone who just gave you a gift. Perhaps I should take it back.”
Viktor could be so annoyingly hard to read at times, a fact he often seemed to revel in. He was especially abstruse when it came to sarcasm, Jayce couldn’t decide if that made him an expert or inept. Either way, luckily for Jayce, he could have written his dissertation on his partner's tells. The slight tilt of his head and the minute twitch of his lips as he fought off the smile that prodded at his deadpan expression were dead giveaways.
“Wait, no, I’m sorry.” Jayce’s smirk widened, his voice drawn out with teasing mockery. He nudged at Viktor’s leg with a playful kick. “I love it. You’re not a jerk.”
That smile reemerged a moment later. “No—on second thought—unfortunately for you, your initial assessment was correct.”
Jayce huffed a laugh as he leaned forward, his hands braced against his thighs. “Alright you jerk, my turn to give you a present.”
Viktor lazily gestured towards the tree. “By all means, show me what you managed to procure, but I do believe I will be winning this Christmas in the end.”
Jayce’s scoff was good-natured if not slightly exasperated as he reached towards the tree. “You don’t win Christmas, you—“
His hand froze, all momentum rerouted to his chest to send his heart racing.
Only one gift for Viktor remained.
No, that couldn’t be right. He still had more time.
Evidently not.
He blinked down at the single box, wrapped in paper flecked with holographic snowflakes, the one he had been patiently dreading.
Even so, the urge to hold out the offering was insurmountable amid his morbid curiosity, even in the face of his anxiety Viktor’s reaction was just too tempting.
“Jayce?” Viktor called cautiously.
The paper crinkled under his sweaty palms, his apprehension pacing tight circles in his chest, hurrying to nowhere. It didn’t rest and it warred with giddy excitement in a deadly duel as he deposited the gift in Viktor’s waiting hands, scrutinized beneath his questioning gaze.
Blood had rushed from his core and to the tips of his limbs, but his body seemed to have found some to spare. A stabbing heat broiled low in his gut at the implications of the gift that Viktor then carefully began to unwrap.
He set the paper aside, the box was brown, unassuming—he opened it.
Jayce tried not to look at anything, hear anything, feel anything as the seconds smothered him. Viktor regarded the contents of the box with a mix of wondrous suspicion.
“Care to explain?” Viktor lifted the object of Jayce’s equal parts horror and arousal into the scathing morning light.
A pretty, pink bunny dress, bows lining the chests, and accented with wisps of white fur.
“I-it’s not for you!“ His voice escaped him an octave higher, the squeak of a man mortally embarrassed by his own offering.
“Eh, that much is quite obvious.” Viktor chuckled knowingly, it would have fallen off him even if he wanted to fit it.
“You know how you said you wanted to try—“ he knew exactly what he meant to say but still insisted on floundering.
Viktor had let it slip one night in the car after dinner with Jayce’s mom. Bathed in the red of the stoplight and molten with wine, it had escaped him like a sudden sneeze.
Jayce wasn’t vanilla but it had still caught him momentarily off guard—so much so he missed the light—when Viktor let out that he wanted to fuck him like a limp, pliant sex doll.
“And you know how I wasn’t sure then.”
Their sex life had bordered on bland in the weeks after their initial confession, not quite dry, unseasoned chicken levels, but definitely wanting.
Even if he had borne his soul to Viktor on multiple occasions, it wasn’t exactly easy to look your previously completely platonic best friend of seven years in the eye, no matter how sexually attracted you were to him, and tell him you wanted him to smack your ass and call you a good little whore.
Times change though, and Viktor had—for lack of a better term—put his whole pussy into fulfilling Jayce’s fantasies and Jayce would be lying if he said he didn’t want to take Viktor up on his drunken offer.
“Well, I think I want to try it.” He finally managed.
The smile Viktor leveled him with was scathing in its implications. “Jayce,” he drawled, his voice mellow and honeyed. “Are you trying to tell me you would like me to dress you up in this pretty dress and fuck you like a doll?”
“Yes?” Kind of a lot actually. Especially if that’s how he was going to look at him.
“How fortunate for me that my partner is such an exemplary gift giver.” Jayce couldn’t help the way his chest puffed out. Maybe in the bedroom he preferred receiving, but when it came to gifts he adored giving. “I was never one to want a doll for Christmas, but this one has been on my list for quite some time now.”
It was go time. “Do you want to play with it now?” He breathed.
”Indeed, how could I ignore such an eager little thing?” Viktor leaned forward, his knobbly fingers running up Jayce’s thick thighs to squeeze the trembling flesh. “But first we must talk.”
“Yeah, yep, ok.” He wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes from Viktor’s lips with a gun to his head.
”You are aware of what I want out of this, but what about you, Jayce?” Viktor cocked his head, his long hair falling in loose waves, and his eyes glimmering with mischief.
”Me? I’m supposed to just not move, right? Let you,” he swallowed. “Do what you want.” Take whatever Viktor gave him. Silent and supplicant.
”That can be part of it, yes, but it is just as much about your pleasure as mine.” Viktor’s hand traced fragile lines along his twitching thigh. “I want to know what will make you feel good. What kind of a doll do you want to be for me?”
It felt odd at first to hear himself referred to like that. A doll. Something he had long associated with being cute and girly. They didn’t exactly sell 6’4 dolls with lean muscles and broad shoulders. He was smaller than he’d been before his injury, but to liken himself to anything as dainty as a pretty porcelain figure was foreign.
”I don’t know, I don’t want to feel bad I guess.” He turned the words over before they parted his lips. “I-I want to be used, but still wanted. Like… not discarded, you know?” One side of his face scrunched in a half-contemplative expression as he fought for what he meant.
”Not an object?”
”No, that's fine.” More than fine. “You know how I like when you tell me I’m good—“
”Your praise kink, yes, I am quite aware.” Viktor cut in with a devilish smirk.
”Shut up,” Jayce groaned with a laugh, lightly pushing Viktor with a hand to his shoulder. Viktor swayed then snapped back, caught in the elastic pull of their gravity. “I guess I just want you to like me. I want to be special.” He trailed off with his lip wormed between his teeth.
Silence followed in his wake before Viktor hummed, low and knowing.
“Do you want to be my prized possession, Jayce?” He finally said, the question spurred a sudden pull at Jayce’s hips, as if he meant to grind up into the friction of the accusation. “My own limited edition Jayce Talis doll, yes?” Viktor purred with a humorous wiggle of his heavy brow, Jayce laughed, but his half-lidded eyes betrayed the answer Viktor needed.
Against the demanding desire between his thighs, Jayce fumbled for some sense of decorum. “Oh, ah yeah, no, that definitely sounds about right.” He chuckled, glancing to his braced leg. “I know I’m not exactly in mint condition though—“
”Ah, ah,” Viktor tutted, brows raised, a single finger pressing against Jayce's lips. “How inconsiderate, talking about my new toy like that. I am under the impression it is quite remarkable.”
Jayce’s eyes crossed momentarily to focus on the digit compressing his pursed lips, before they raised to the culprit. The edge of said lips quirked up… and then they parted.
He drew the tip of Viktor’s finger into the waiting warmth of his mouth, his tongue teasing the valleys of old scars.
There were many things about himself he was proud of, unfortunately, impulse control wasn’t one of them, but he personally thought he was well worth the headaches he caused.
“Jayce,” Viktor’s surprised laugh caught on a gasp in his throat.
Jayce drew forward to the second knuckle, catching Viktor’s wrist in his grasp to pull him closer. He raised a brow.
“You think you are cute, do you?” Viktor shook his head with a smirk.
Jayce’s reply was a noncommittal hum and lazy shrug as he guided the rest of the digit home to the back of his throat. He didn’t know what Viktor expected. He offered up his finger, he shouldn’t be surprised that Jayce took it.
Viktor rolled his eyes before he paused, and then they narrowed with the tilt of his head. His free hand rose to Jayce’s throat, his thumb caressing his Adam’s apple as it bobbed. Without much fanfare he drove the finger between Jayce’s lips forward—Jayce gagged, his throat momentarily spasming as it grew familiar with the sudden, further occupation.
Jayce’s moan escaped him from somewhere deep in his fluttering chest.
Viktor’s other hand never left his throat, if anything it encompassed it further. Viktor studied the reaction with the same smirk he got when he found his questionable tests in the lab proved his calculations correct.
Jayce silently prompted him with a questioning quirk of his brow as he fought to control the way his throat trembled.
“Just an idea…” Viktor said, his smile greedy and practically shit-eating.
Well, that totally wasn’t ominous at all. Jayce guessed it would be too much to ask of Viktor to let him get away with being a little brattish scot-free, not without a little payback. Knowing his partner, it was bound to be at least a little vindictive.
Viktor pulled his finger away a moment later, it exited the seal of Jayce’s lips with a wet pop and Viktor feigned rubbing the dampness against Jayce’s spit-shined mouth—most ended up across his cheek.
Jayce’s mouth yawned open for a moment at the emptiness before his tongue darted out to try to lick whatever remnants of his partner might have remained on his skin.
“Do you know how you want to do this?” he asked, his voice breathy.
”In quite exquisite detail, yes,” Viktor said, his hand trailing along the scruff of Jayce’s beard. His lips pursed with a new thought.
”What?”
”How attached are you to your facial hair?” Viktor’s contemplation turned sly.
He liked it enough, but it wasn’t like any change was permanent. He shrugged. ”It can grow back, why?”
“Perfect.”
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 𝜗ৎ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
He watched the hair swirl down the shower drain, severed from everywhere but his face just as Viktor had oddly specified—Jayce had been readily expecting the opposite request. Viktor hadn’t said why, but he was never one to make a request without cause. Jayce trusted him implicitly of course, and what was life without a few surprises? Jayce himself had proven that.
So far the endeavor had been simple but time consuming. He had taken to waxing his chest in his youth, but the habit had since fallen to the wayside. So it wasn’t an unusual feeling when he ran his hands along the smooth planes of his hairless chest, slick with water and fresh-smelling soap. His legs felt similar, although he had never made the same leap with them, but he remembered Caitlyn saying how good fresh sheets felt against newly shaved legs. It wasn’t hard to imagine the feeling with the satiny finish that shone along his thighs and calves.
He glanced down to his crotch. The ultimate test. Viktor hadn’t specified shaving there, more than likely not wanting to overwhelm him, but by god it was Christmas, and if he had the balls to give himself to Viktor as a doll, just short of a bow on his head (maybe next time), then he could shave them.
He shut the water off after the completion of the arduous task, finally setting the razor back on the shower caddy. He shimmied awkwardly into his towel, the soft loops of the terry cloth dragging more noticeable against his skin than before.
He shuffled towards the mirror, hazy with steam. He drew a hand across the glass.
He was completely hairless now from the neck down, making the line between his face and his now sleek chest almost jarring. He’d done it, gone through the motions, tried to make himself…something delicate. But looking in the mirror, he was disappointed to still be faced with a man he could only characterize as pretending. He didn’t know what he had expected.
He thought about his younger self, fresh-faced, with no ugly surgery scars along his leg, and the last remnants of baby fat rounding out his cheeks. Maybe not cute per se, but he thought that version fit the bill a hell of a lot more than the man in the mirror—face lined with stress and eyes tired with the weight of bags from many sleepless nights.
Beads of water ran down the mirror, cutting through the milky film in long lines.
He remembered how sheepish he felt the times he’d been called pretty. Those days were gone, now he was rugged, still called hot enough to keep the ego he tried to ignore satiated, but not pretty. If only his 24-year-old self knew what he had. Some part of him wondered if he’d be looking at himself in the mirror seven more years down the line and thinking the same thing about his present self.
”I think it is you are quite remarkable.”
He smiled, damn his partner and his multitasking, putting something so sweet in his iniquity.
A knock came from the doorway. “When I informed you that you would need to be silent, I believed it was implied that I meant after we started.”
Speak of the devil.
“Someone’s impatience.” Jayce snorted, his palms pressed to the counter to brace himself.
Viktor didn’t take the bait. “You have been staring at your reflection for the last ten minutes.”
Jayce’s head fell forward between his shoulders, hair falling in his eyes. “Just thinking…”
“Quite dangerous for you,” Viktor hummed. “You tend to cross the line into overthinking territory quite often.”
Jayce shrugged.
“What is it?” Viktor pushed, his cane clicking along the tiles as he stepped forward to stand at Jayce’s side. “Are you having second thoughts? It is perfectly fine if you are—“
“No!” Jayce hurried to put that to rest. “No… nothing like that.”
“Then what is wrong?” Viktor laid a tender hand on his still damp shoulder.
He pursed his lip and sighed. “Wouldn’t you want someone more… doll-like?”
“Of course not.” Viktor wasted no time with his reply.
Jayce frowned with mild confusion. “Why?”
Viktor’s hand ran soothingly up his shoulders to tangle and scratch at the hairs along the base of his neck. Jayce felt himself melt into the touch. “That is simple, it is redundant. Your masculinity is part of the allure, Jayce.” His forthcoming honesty was plain to see. “And you know how I love a challenge.”
Jayce chuckled, the weight in his chest lessening under the balm of Viktor’s reassurance. “Yeah, you’re in it for the love of the game.”
“And you.” Viktor smiled up at him, an irrevocable affection in his eyes. Though, his grin quickly shifted towards depravity. “Seeing you blush when I put you in a dress is a welcome bonus too, of course.”
Jayce nudged him with his shoulder. “Damn, watch out, your freaks showing a little bit there,” he snickered.
Viktor’s laugh was low and breathy. “Only a little bit? My apologies, I thought I had made that obvious.” His expression was downright sinful as his hand traveled to brush across Jayce’s chiseled jaw. “Hm, evidently not. Let me make it very clear for you—I find molding you, and your handsome face and body, watching you break into a sweet, pretty thing, endlessly fascinating.”
“God—” The strength of his groan caught even Jayce off guard.
“Wrong name.” Viktor looked a little too proud of himself. “Eh, but do not be embarrassed, it is an easy mistake.”
Jayce rolled his eyes. “Original and humble. You’re really outdoing yourself, V.” It couldn’t hurt to push his partner a little—or maybe it would, that definitely wouldn’t be unwelcome.
Viktor’s eyes narrowed and the hand at Jayce’s jaw opened to further encompass the lower half of his face. A sharp breath escaped him when it pulled him down hard a moment later.
“Someone’s feeling better,” Viktor tsked, his brow raised.
Jayce nodded.
“You have not been told to be silent yet Jayce.” Viktor smirked. “I would get your words out now.”
“Yes,” it came out closer to a moan than a reply. “Much better.”
“Good,” Viktor released him with a pat to his cheek. “Are you ready to proceed?”
Another nod, red faced but more confident now. “Yeah.”
“Then follow me.”
Jayce stepped past the door into the primary bedroom. It had originally belonged to him, but had since come to be theirs instead. The walls were still the same casual cream color, and the bed queen-sized with its pronged headboard, but Viktor’s unmistakable mark had been left: his pills on the nightstand, the fan left perpetually on low, and the blankets piled high for maximizing comfort.
It was all so familiar—this was theirs, their home, their space, but apprehension and arousal alike still settled heavy in his gut. They fluttered like insect wings, fanning the flames of his nervous heart. He shifted awkwardly, barely rutting up against the plush weave of the towel, not nearly enough to satiate but certainly enough to be maddeningly stimulating.
Viktor led him to the desk in the corner of the room, a hand on the head of the rolling chair.
“Sit.” His smile was composed but underscored with the nature of what was to come.
Jayce complied without hesitation. Viktor circled to face him, bracketed by his thighs.
He ran a hand through Jayce’s still damp hair. “What’s the one thing you know how to say?”
“Fail-safe.” Jayce couldn’t help the way his voice echoed the trembling nervous excitement in his chest.
Viktor’s gaze was warm as he clamored into Jayce’s lap, his good leg bent and the other comfortably stretched out beneath the armrest. He brought a finger up to Jayce’s eyes.
“Can you unfocus your eyes for me?” he asked.
Jayce’s focus was split between Viktor’s finger and face. “Um, I think so—I’m not really sure how.”
Viktor nodded. “Relax your eyes, focus on my finger.“ Jayce followed as Viktor’s finger moved slowly away. “Keep them nice and open for me.” Jayce’s wide eyes finally complied, and everything was doubled with a faint haziness.
Viktor smiled approvingly before laying a gentle kiss to Jayce’s lips. “You’re a natural.”
Jayce could only imagine how he looked, but based on Viktor’s heavy lidded gaze it must have at least been satisfactory: eyes big and glassy, staring ahead towards the blank wall, but his mind still solely forced on Viktor.
“Now, little doll,” Viktor whispered against his lips. “Do not move.”
Viktor reached for something on the desk, and Jayce had to make a conscious effort to keep his eyes from tracking the movement. He was always slightly on edge, drawing conclusions, analyzing every situation, so it wasn’t a huge surprise when he found, stuck only with his thoughts, that he couldn’t exactly turn it off.
He exhaled slowly through his nose as Viktor’s blurred shape returned with something in his hand: a brush of some sort, coated in a white substance. Viktor drew in close, his breath ghosting across Jayce’s face. His free hand drew up to trail along the scruff under his chin.
”Look at you,” he murmured, his voice laced with awe. “What a find you were, already so pretty. Refurbishing you will almost be too easy.”
There it was. The shift. Not Viktor his partner, but Viktor the collector—a doll maker. Something about the change had a little more heat than anxiety pooling beneath his skin. Viktor’s tone was reverent and simple; there was no room for argument. If Viktor—with his dark pupils bleeding like ink into the gold of his irises—said he was pretty, just maybe Jayce could believe him.
“Ah, but do not worry, even perfection can be built upon,” he practically purred, his dark gaze boring into Jayce's glazed eyes. “And when I’m done with you, you will be unrecognizable.”
Viktor’s fingers trailed further back to Jayce's cheek and then to his ear, tucking a stray lock of hair into place behind it, and then they were tangling in the dark strands and twisting to pull Jayce’s head back and expose his throat.
He stiffened on reflex before finally starting to relax into it as Viktor’s fingers idly scratched at his nape, encouraging him to melt into his hold. The brush in his other hand smeared something cool across Jayce’s throat.
Jayce blinked. That was shaving cream. No sooner had he realized it than Viktor was trading the brush for an unassuming razor. Of course. He had intended to do it for him from the start. Something about that had his dick’s full attention.
Jayce spent every day of his life striving to help others, to take the heavier load. When Cait called him with a flat tire during dinner, he dropped everything to help, on days when Viktor’s pain left him drained, Jayce would draw him a hot bath, complete with salts and fragrances. He took every opportunity to shoulder responsibility, and now Viktor was about to do something as mundane for him as shaving his face, with Jayce under express orders to not lift a finger to assist. The care drew forth a warmth in his chest, and the control something hotter.
Viktor raised a brow as he held the razor before Jayce—an opportunity to object. Jayce remained resolute in his stillness.
“Now, let us get you cleaned up.” Viktor’s smile was as ravening as it was bewitching, finally drawing the razor across Jayce’s skin.
With each pass and the crackling of breaking strands, Jayce felt himself further relax, not only into his role, but in general. The swirling anxiety that usually accompanied him dulled to an itch barely worth scratching. Dolls didn’t need to worry, they didn’t need to stress about deadlines or how they looked. It simply didn’t matter, it was for Viktor to decide.
For one of the first times in his adult life, his appearance wasn’t a source of worry, he trusted Viktor’s tastes, so to question how Jayce himself looked now was to question the person whose mind he most adored.
By the time he was clean shaven, Jayce’s head had lolled back, unsupported if not for the cradle of Viktor’s palm. Viktor hummed approvingly, turning Jayce’s limp head and running his fingers across his smooth cheek.
“Eh, I was right. Such a pretty face—sweet eyes, and cute, pouty lips.” The pads of his fingers found Jayce’s lips, pressing in slightly, Jayce didn’t part them this time. Viktor smirked. “I bet they would feel so perfect wrapped around my cock.” To think the comment would be the extent of his retribution would have been insanely wishful thinking on Jayce’s part.
Under different circumstances, though, Jayce would have snickered. Viktor had given it away, it seemed, throat fucking was nothing new for them recently. However, something in the back of his head reminded him Viktor was never one to completely give up the element of surprise.
Jayce’s own cock, which had softened in his calm, twitched against Viktor’s ass at the mysterious prospect.
Viktor noticed, raising a petty brow. Oh, come on, he couldn’t exactly help it.
Jayce was not meant to move anywhere, it would seem. He scooted back, more on Jayce’s thighs now than lap, and pulled the towel aside, for the first time acknowledging Jayce’s need.
“Ah, a factory error, you are lucky you are so pretty. Such an attachment is, of course, quite useless next to your perfect little hole.” Viktor feigned surprise quite well. Jayce would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t so hopelessly turned on—and allowed to move. Someone should have given Viktor an Oscar for how well he acted like he hadn’t felt that (even soft) pressed to the cleft of his ass for the last almost twenty minutes. “Though I’m sure such a big useless cock will at least be a pretty picture to look at while I fuck you how you were intended.”
Jayce was vain—who was he kidding—he’d always been at least a little proud of how big he was, but something about the way Viktor always treated it like an accessory he’d rather look at rather than use made Jayce all the more interested.
The reminder had his dick twitching hard, again… uh oh… Viktor smirked through a dramatic sigh of false disappointment. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. He reached to the side again to retrieve a new item that had Jayce’s eyes widening even through their lack of focus.
Sparkly pink plastic with a little heart lock, the perfect size to be snug but not too tight—his cock cage.
Any other time, he’d have been fidgeting with anticipation.
Viktor waited a beat again for any objection, and when he received none, he moved with practiced hands to secure it. First the bottom half of the ring behind his balls, then the top, and then finally sheathing Jayce’s impressive cock in the cute pink cage, stopping it in its tracks from reaching its full potential. The lock clicked, and Viktor made a show of depositing the key, hung on a thin chain around his neck for safekeeping.
Jayce’s cock looked noticeably smaller, it was undeniably emasculating. It should have had him squirming for a different reason entirely, but the observation sent a new wave of heat coursing to his aforementioned length, causing the cage to hold him tighter and locking him mentally, and physically, into a dizzying feedback loop.
“There we go, that’s better,” Viktor smiled, rubbing at Jayce’s thick thigh. “My dolls only come from one button, and it certainly isn’t here.” He flicked the plastic shielding Jayce’s dick.
If Viktor wasn’t so circuitous, Jayce would say the aforementioned button was probably his prostate, but Viktor loved being elaborate just for the hell of it sometimes, so Jayce could safely say that probably wasn’t the case.
That meant Viktor wanted to keep him guessing. However, there was one thing he was certain of: he wouldn’t be allowed to come from being fucked alone.
He was in for a long afternoon, and he couldn’t be more thrilled.
Amidst Jayce’s reasoning, Viktor had proceeded with the next step in his plan. He sorted through the small bag of makeup they’d accumulated since he had first expressed a level of interest in seeing Jayce wear it. There wasn’t much, but enough for Viktor to blend concealer across Jayce’s skin, and accentuate his eyes with black liner above his mascara coated lashes, and white on his waterline. He concluded with a pink blush on the apples of his cheeks and a similar color gloss on his lips.
“There you go; such a pretty toy,” Viktor said, tone dripping with satisfaction. “Let’s get you into something a bit more comfortable now, yes?”
He stood, bracing himself on the desk before he retrieved the box that had spurred so much anxiety in Jayce not long ago. Now it only brought a dizzying wave of arousal, the cage around his cock embracing him with a pressure that stole his breath. It wasn’t painful, but a squeeze like a firm hand, relentlessly holding him in place.
Viktor held the dress for the second time before him, his expression now wicked instead of questioning. It took some maneuvering on Jayce’s part (which they both ignored) to get the dress over his head and properly fitted to him. The little capelet with its hood and attached bunny ears was much easier for Viktor to slip over Jayce’s shoulders on his lonesome.
The final piece had Viktor smirking as he rubbed the translucent fabric between his thumb and pointer finger: a pair of thin stockings decorated with doll-like ball joints and a pink garter belt to secure them. Viktor settled himself momentarily on the floor before him, and Jayce lifted his hips so Viktor could slip the garter past them.
The stockings followed soon after, first the right—Viktor paused momentarily at the left. “You’ve been played with a little too hard, haven’t you?” Viktor laid a tender kiss to Jayce’s scarred leg before rolling the garment past his knee. “Oh, do not worry sweet thing, from now on you will only ever be cherished, just as you were always meant to be.”
Jayce couldn’t help but blush at the comment, his cheeks darkening to red beneath the artificial pink. Leave it to Viktor to give Jayce a taste of his own medicine. He had spent so many nights telling Viktor how beautiful he was despite everything about himself he despised, and now that Viktor had started to turn that same sentiment back on Jayce, he could do nothing but agonize under the adoration.
Viktor stood with his hand still on Jayce’s thigh. He took a half step back.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Look at you.”
Viktor looked at him as if he would frame and mount what he saw on the wall if he could, so he could always bask in the glory of his creation—like a god on a particularly horny power trip.
Jayce’s blush somehow managed to darken further.
One hand supported Viktor against the desk while the other palmed himself through his pants, his hips chasing the motion. Jayce could see Viktor’s packer through his sweats, but he couldn’t quite tell which one he’d chosen beneath the loose fabric.
Viktor’s teeth found his lip, the skin blanching white under the pressure. Finally, he said, “Let’s get you on the bed.”
Viktor was able to roll him in the chair to the edge of their bed, but Jayce quietly assisted after that until he was comfortably situated lying on his back. The sheets dragged like silk against his smooth calves, a sensation like the laminar flow of running water.
One of Viktor’s hands found Jayce’s chest, soft with velvet and faux fur. He squeezed at a well-defined pectoral, his eyelids weighed down by his lust. “If I were a more selfish man, I would keep you all to myself... but I shouldn’t,” he gritted out at the end.
A little extra spice they’d discussed earlier.
Jayce had said he wanted to be cherished, yes, but—also, try as he might to be humble, his ego needed to be fed occasionally—like an evil twin he kept locked in the basement. And the idea of experienced, professional doll maker Viktor ending up being just too overwhelmed by Jayce to let him go, even against his better judgment, made his heart flutter in expectation for the inevitable end.
And it didn’t hurt to watch his possessive partner squirm at the idea of giving Jayce up. Even though Viktor knew there was no real intent behind it, he spoke his lines with the annoyance the idea brought forth within him.
Of course, Viktor’s hand traveled lower, despite his feigned denial, pushing up the layered pink pleats of Jayce’s skirt. It slid past his caged cock without so much as a pause and cupped his balls, squeezing, the sensation a tease of stimulation for his aching dick, but not a bit unwelcome.
Viktor’s hand didn’t linger though, it drew lower towards its ultimate destination. His broad, square fingers rubbed lazily at the soft skin of Jayce’s perineum, brushing his twitching hole with every other long stroke.
Jayce’s instinct was to arch into the touch, but he forced himself to remain still.
“Perhaps a functionality test is in order though,” Viktor hummed. “It would be irresponsible to advertise a product without first being sure it is in working order.”
At that, his finger drew away, much to Jayce’s chagrin. He swallowed the needy sound that threatened to slip past his lips, aching, but still desperate to please. They weren’t gone for long though, and when they returned, they were slick with lube from the nightstand drawer, the slight chill in sharp contrast to the flushed heat of Jayce’s skin everywhere else.
Viktor sat beside him, leaning over to circle Jayce’s puckered opening with the same easy patience, but Jayce knew otherwise. Viktor wasn’t as composed as he seemed, his little cock must have been aching in the confines of his pants, if the minute thrusts of his hips were anything to go by. Probably rubbing up into whatever prosthetic he had chosen to fuck Jayce senseless with.
Viktor had confided in him early on in their relationship that he preferred to refrain from bottoming due to his dysphoria. He’d looked so sheepish at the time, worried he might somehow disappoint Jayce. That was an impossibility anyway, but what luck that Jayce enjoyed it enough for the both of them. A perfect match, like two horny puzzle pieces.
It was finally Jayce’s turn to tease again, as Viktor’s finger stretched him open to the first knuckle. He clenched down, sweetly drawing the digit further into that eager heat. Viktor’s eyes narrowed, flashing to Jayce’s face, which remained miraculously impassive, even if behind his skull he smirked as much as he writhed. He expertly sucked Viktor in, even as his partner tried to maintain some semblance of control over the rhythm.
Viktor’s lips parted with his shaking breaths, his eyes locked on his hand beneath Jayce’s line of sight, no doubt fixated on the way his hole pulsed around his finger as if to milk it.
Try as Jayce might, though, Viktor still held fast against his cloying invitation. Even as he added a second finger—beginning to scissor Jayce open—he refused to hit that bundle of nerves Jayce so desperately wanted to guide him towards.
He bit back a groan, Viktor was doing it on purpose, of course. He adamantly ignored Jayce’s prostate, only occasionally lavishing it with a featherlight brush. Jayce hated how much he loved how he toyed with him; even when his thick fingers increased to three and Viktor remained resolute.
This would normally be where Jayce started to lay it on thick, roll his hips, pout at least, maybe beg a little if he was feeling particularly pent up. This time, though, that wasn’t an option, there was no way in hell Viktor would let him come if he started moving, or, god forbid, speaking. So he took it. He laid there like a good doll while Viktor slowly and meticulously mapped out his insides like it was his favorite pastime, only rubbing at that spot with gentle pseudo-sweetness.
Viktor only exited him for a brief moment to douse his fingers in an exorbitant amount of lube, which he drove back into Jayce’s hole moments later with a messy, wet noise that made Jayce’s thighs twitch.
He was practically vibrating out of his skin at the sensation and sound, trembling like running water from the white hot pleasure it elicited. The way Viktor’s drenched fingers drove into him with such punctuated precision sounded like a wet cunt, and had little, half contained huffs catching in the back of Jayce’s throat. But Viktor never followed through entirely, he toyed with him instead, just enough to have him sweating.
“You are so beautiful like this, Jayce,” Viktor sighed, his lips perpetually parted by his shaking breaths. “Lying there, taking it. You make for such a perfect fuck doll.”
Heady desperation was practically leaking from Jayce’s pores at that point, and Viktor was all but licking it from his skin.
“Does my good toy need something, hm?” Viktor asked, voice mockingly high in his throat. If he could hear Jayce’s thoughts, he would have been drowned in the sheer volume of all encompassing need. “Eh, I think so. Dolls like you always need a cock in their pretty hole—that is your purpose.”
Said purpose was finally going to be achieved when Viktor withdrew his fingers for a third and final time. Jayce could have cheered as he watched Viktor strip, maybe thrown a few bills just to emphasize his elation (and watch Viktor leer at him just for the quick laugh). Yet he remained still—a perfect plastic imitation Viktor could be proud of.
When Viktor returned to Jayce's side, he brought with him their wedge pillow, which he situated comfortably under Jayce’s hips, angling them up so he could position himself with his legs stretched out instead of bent underneath him, neither of their lower bodies having to bear much of the weight this way.
The prosthetic packer Viktor had chosen was, unsurprisingly, one of his favorites, nice and long but not too thick, with a base that came up further on his pelvis, making it much easier to securely tape. It was the one that suctioned to his little cock, making an artificial hole for him to fuck into, an extension more than a strap on that had Jayce clenching around nothing but the thought of it inside him.
Viktor’s gaze flitted between Jayce's glassy eyes and his winking hole. “Always so eager for me, even when you can’t speak,” he mused, and of course he couldn’t help but first rub the tip lightly against Jayce's entrance, squeezing the shaft so a bead of prefilled lube leaked from the slit.
Viktor was certainly skinny, but after years of compensating for his leg, he had gained no uncertain amount of lean, practical muscle in his arms. He held himself aloft with one hand against Jayce's hip, and when impatience spread even to him, the other guided the extension of his no doubt twitching tdick into the welcoming heat. Jayce tensed as Viktor began to roll his hips in little circles, not from resistance or even surprise, but the helpless, overwhelming relief of finally being filled.
Viktor’s dick was deceptively soft, smooth silicone with the artificial feel of skin slick with lube, but the shape was firm, unrelenting, and just slightly unlike anything living. It stretched him with manufactured precision, as if it were made for him.
Viktor’s thrusts angled annoyingly down as his rocking found it stride, only just barely getting Jayce off as he rutted forward.
Jayce’s toes curled in his flimsy stockings, one of the few places he could cheat and move outside Viktor's line of sight. Even the air felt like too much against his hypersensitive skin. Viktor had made him into a live wire, and yet he was still determined to remain (mostly) frozen.
His caged, weeping dick had been all but forgotten, it was a moot point now, a useless accessory just as Viktor had said. Jayce's only hope to come was being languidly petted deep inside him, leaving him almost boneless, with a tingling slowly eroding at his nerves.
The feeling rolled over him like a quick, but silent, tide. One minute he was grounded on the sandbar of his relative awareness, and the next he was in deep water, weightless and adrift, carried by the current of Viktor’s care.
The dizzying combination of being used and adored had Jayce quivering as Viktor’s rhythm stuttered, hips faltering in their careful circles as his breathing grew more erratic.
Jayce watched with wide, glassy eyes—equal parts jealous and awestruck— as Viktor’s composure cracked. He went rigid above him, thrusts punctuated but short, and his face contorted, as a long, ragged sound was torn from his throat, louder than he meant, at the height of his release.
Jayce ached with the heat of it: watching Viktor be undone by him in turn.
Viktor’s shoulders slouched and his chest trembled with long heavy breaths, his flushed face still painting a pretty picture of his lingering pleasure.
“It would seem you truly are one of a kind, priceless no doubt.” He chuckled, head falling forward and voice breathy after being starved of air. “Perhaps I should keep you.”
He hummed to himself before his eyes rose to draw slowly over Jayce. “Yes… How could I ever let you go knowing someone might not treat you like the treasure you are?” He licked his lips. “No, you’d be better off as mine.”
He drew himself forward, his pale chest hovering just above the pretty bows of Jayce’s dress, the fur trim of the bodice tickling his twitching skin. Jayce felt every brush of it as their chests drew closer with each inhale, teasingly intimate.
“I will take such good care of you, pretty doll. Just like you deserve,” he murmured, his lips inches from Jayce’s. “You need not ever worry again.” He closed the distance.
Kissing Viktor was like breathing—Jayce could practically do it in his sleep—but still he tried as best he could to let his lips fall lax and melt under the guide of Vikor’s ministrations. His mouth was as methodical as the rest of him, licking between Jayce’s lips and exploring every inch he could reach.
He drew back with a gasp once he’d had his fill, lips shined with a mix of spit and pink gloss. He grinned and dove back in to pepper Jayce's smooth throat with sticky prints of his lips as the rolling of his hips resumed.
“I built you, Jayce,” Viktor murmured against his pulse, “and not a single inch of you gets to belong to anyone else.”
Time passed like sap from a leaking tree, slow and sticky, but gone before he realized. Jayce wasn’t sure how long it had been, only that he had still yet to come, but his body still teased him with the drawn out buzzing feeling like a half complete release.
God, fucking dammit.
It felt right, good—great, but maddening. The pleasure was constant and unrelenting but fine as stratus—a fog that spread from gut to limbs, languidly leaking like his caged cock. He couldn’t tell if his arms had gone numb from the hum under his skin, or just from being folded stiffly across his stomach, arranged in the posture Viktor had chosen.
Viktor came again above him, his jaw lax and brow scrunched, his long nose crinkled cutely. Jayce had only a moment to appreciate his partner's form before Viktor’s thrusts turned jagged with the loss of his composure. The angle slipped and Viktor’s unrelenting cock dragged against the edge of his prostate.
Jayce’s throat constricted around a moan as if to choke himself on the sound. He shook with the urge to open his mouth and scream his pleasure loud and unabashed, to moan like a bitch in heat for Viktor to hold his thrusts there, to please, for the love of god, let him come.
But all that left him was a choked off clicking between sealed pretty pink lips, the sound resonating from somewhere at the back of his throat. Sex dolls don’t moan, they don’t speak, and they certainly don’t beg their owners to let them come.
Viktor joked once that Mother Nature did not account nor intend for his refractory period and the horniness of male sex hormones to meet, but that he couldn’t help how he loved to spite her. Jayce had come to realize that if spiting the natural order was Viktor's first love, then making it Jayce's problem was a close second.
Viktor’s slow rolling thrusts resumed after a moment, no less intent on seeing Jayce undone. “Ah—such a perfect little fuck doll for me. You’re taking my cock so well.” He hummed, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into Jayce’s hips. “Perhaps you’re ready for your reward…”
Jayce’s dick twitched as much as it could, precome leaking from the tip as he was hugged tighter. Another moan remained contained, trapped within him to practically bounce around his skull. If Jayce wasn’t so committed to keeping his eyes glassy, he would’ve been begging with them.
“Indeed, I believe you are.” Viktor cooed, but there was a glint in his eye that made Jayce shudder. “I will give you exactly what good toys get—we don’t want you making a mess, of course.”
The angle changed slightly but the pace didn’t. Instead of baiting Jayce, lazily brushing that sweet spot inside him, Viktor teased it directly and without mercy. His thrusts elicited just enough pressure to have that buzzing, like pleasant pins and needles, further worming through Jayce beneath his flushed skin. He felt it in his hands, his legs, all the way to his face and behind his wide unfocused eyes. Viktor pressed and retreated with feather light strokes, circling and pushing with a grin that could now truly be called unhinged.
Jayce had always known Viktor was a perfectionist. Every attempt he made with a new prototype in the lab was taken with the utmost documentation and care. So, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that over the course of their relationship Viktor had practically cataloged every inch of him and reviewed it again, and again, and again—until he knew Jayce’s body as well as one of his machines.
After all that time, he sure felt like more of a product than a person, in the most satisfying way, as he finally… came? The orgasm didn’t tear through him, it wove. It was a shy imitation at his cock, but a deep tingling washed through his body, as if someone had melted down his release and ran it through his veins.
For the first time that scene, he squeezed his eyes shut tight, unable to hold his face in that serene calm as the orgasm eroded his control.
What a wonderful feature Viktor had installed in him, his pleasure laden brain supplied, only pushing the feeling further through him.
When he finally opened his eyes, he was unsurprised to see his cock still fully and achingly erect. He leaked like a broken faucet, but that was the extent of the spend that escaped him. And god, he was still so painfully horny.
Viktor looked half feral as he continued fucking into him, his hair wild, stuck by sweat to his temples and sticking out at odd angles.
“I can give you one more.” He panted, more to himself than Jayce. Ever the perfectionist, he was never content to half-ass anything, especially Jayce’s ass.
It didn’t take long.
The first orgasm wove the base, and the second one stitched it in as Viktor’s thrusts rolled into him like the lapping of waves on a storm-ravaged coast, a sadistic gentleness at the eye of the squall after Jayce had been so thoroughly undone.
“Ah, Ah, AH—“ Jayce was helpless to resist the sounds that escaped him. His voice was a broken record left to play itself into oblivion after how long it had collected dust. His previous performance must have been good enough, because Viktor graciously allowed him the slip in his facade.
The sticky pleasure assaulted him again, lovingly flooding his muscles with waves of fuzziness so content he wondered if he was truly unable to move. Even if he could he wouldn’t want to, one wrong move might risk spooking the long winded climax like a skittish fawn.
“Didn’t that feel so good, sweet thing?” Viktor said softly, “I can make you feel like that all the time. Don’t you want that?”
Jayce sure as hell could get used to that. It wasn’t his first dry orgasm with Viktor, and he highly doubted it would be his last with how pleased Viktor looked at his handiwork, but it was the first time he’d achieved two in such quick succession. He’d known it was possible, but damn, nothing quite like lived experience could have prepared him for it.
Viktor’s gentle, greedy eyes seemed to swallow Jayce’s no doubt blissed out expression whole. Jayce may have started this as a gift, but it was no surprise he enjoyed it just as much as if Viktor had gifted it to him instead.
Viktor brought a hand up to trail his thumb along Jayce’s clammy cheek. “Why be anything else when you can be this for me? So sweet and willing. You were made for me to fuck.”
Not allowed to finish, not permitted to move, Jayce had remained suspended on the edge of true release. But now that the line had been crossed with his voice, Jayce couldn’t help but move a little, just enough to roll his hips into Viktor's thrusts. To show him with his eager movements the unyielding hunger the offer spurred within him, and maybe entice Viktor to grant him a true reprieve.
Viktor grinned, Jayce’s favorite sweet sadistic smile. “I know how badly you want it—to be my pretty little cock sleeve.”
Jayce wondered, indulgently—however unlikely it was—if Viktor was going to leave him like that, ruined and half satisfied, his favorite doll left out on display.
Viktor’s hand reached up to pull the chain and key over his head, though. His movements barely faltered as his dexterous fingers finally freed Jayce's drooling, stifled erection.
Jayce’s mouth fell open with a moan he didn’t even try to contain but caught in his throat all the same, its parting gift a shuddering heave as his cock finally filled. The rush of blood made his head swim and his vision hazy for a new reason.
Viktor laid a fragile kiss to Jayce’s parted lips. “Just you. Only you, Jayce. Nothing else comes close.”
The force of Viktor’s thrusts quickly began to spiral—a pistoning machine—too rough for the pleasant buzzing and more in line with the stark and quickly building heat at the base of Jayce’s spine. His control would not be long for this world, but Viktor still had final say.
Fingers came to rest at the seam of his lips, and Jayce understood.
My dolls only come from one button.
His mouth opened and two long fingers slipped inside, pushing past his lips until they tickled the back of his throat. He gagged. “Come.”
After two releases spread thin and ignorant of his cock, the third bordered on painful in its intensity. Sensation converged at his aching erection, finally freed and compressed with so much need the well of its gravity seemed to draw every bit of pleasure up with his balls before he came like the snapping of a rubber band with a breathless shout, painting his pretty pink skirt white.
Viktor followed suit in the wake of Jayce’s climax, the same adorably scrunched expression gracing the usually sharp lines of his angular face. They stayed like that for a moment before Viktor slowly pulled out with a wet pop, a clear stream of lube dribbling from the head of his prosthetic cock. He wasn’t quite done yet though.
Jayce wiggled his hips in anticipation, for the cherry on top of all their encounters.
Viktor’s fingers slipped behind the edge of his packer to run between his folds, they came away slick with a sticky, thick white fluid—the byproduct of his skene's gland developed by testosterone, and a little luck on Viktor’s part. His wet fingers found Jayce’s sensitive hole for a final time, fingering his spend into its rightful place inside him.
Viktor rolled onto his back beside Jayce with a long sigh a moment later.
”Still think you won Christmas?” Jayce chuckled.
Viktor stretched out like a content cat with a few satisfying pops of his joints. “Eh, I still definitely won, just not how I expected.”
Jayce snorted, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Those two dry orgasms were a nice touch though,” he mumbled sleepily, the soft ache and warm satisfaction still thrumming contently within him.
Viktor's hand jostled him a moment later. “Do not fall asleep. We have Christmas dinner at your mothers house,” he grumbled, half asleep himself. A beat of silence. “And, yes, they were quite inspired.” Jayce could hear the smirk in his voice.
Jayce rolled over to wrap Viktor in his arms. “We can be late,” he yawned.
He could feel Viktor grimace even with his eyes closed. “Jayce, you are filthy.”
”And whose fault is that?” he chuckled, nuzzling into Viktor's soft hair.
Viktor tsked, but wrapped his arms around him. ”You are getting it on me…” He grumbled halfheartedly.
Jayce’s smile was lax with impending sleep, but undeniably content. ”My cuddles are worth it.”
Silence followed, and then a soft, ”Yes…they are…”
Viktor pulled him closer, his fingers finding Jayce's damp hair to scratch lazily along his scalp. ”I love you.”
Jayce sighed. ”Love you too, V.”
The universe had really sent him the love of his life in the form of a secretly sappy, know-it-all, genius who liked to fuck him like a sex doll. Not exactly what Jayce had expected. Well, you win some you lose some, except Jayce was pretty sure he’d won on all accounts.