Louis Garneau

players only. backdated. takes place the day after Louis asks Bradley to move in with him.



Bradley has felt like his skin is a size too small all day. Through waking up and having breakfast, through driving back to the hotel and meeting Colin and Angel, who'd teased him and Louis, but helped pack up his things cheerfully, both of them happy for him. Through stopping again for lunch at a patisserie on the road, where he managed to bin most of his lunch without Louis noticing, and even through hauling his bags and kit up the stairs into Louis's loft. Moving in for real.

But that's not what's got him nervy; no, he still remembers Louis's teasing from last night, the way he'd talked about the garter and heels, the way it'd made Bradley feel inside. Reluctant, but even more excited because of that. And he's been unable to stop thinking about it all day long.

It's not until they finish dinner that Louis tells Bradley to stay where he is and brings out the parcel he had delivered earlier - while they were out - from Citadel. "I'm fairly sure you can guess what this is," he says, placing the box on the floor beside Bradley.

Bradley blinks at the box, then glances up at Louis, knowing his face is red, and his eyes probably very bright indeed. "It's...is it...what we talked about. The garters and heels and stockings. Is...that's it?" He's generally not so tongue-tied but the way his cock is jumping to fullness is distracting.

Louis nods, completely captivated by Bradley's response. "Open it."

Carefully, Bradley opens the box, looking inside. Sitting on top, a pair of black high heels, and thigh-high stockings, with garters and a belt. And a tiny maid's outfit made of what feels like silk, just a little boning and shaping obvious as he lifts it out of the box, eyes running over it. He sets it aside and runs a finger down the seam of the stockings, marveling at how soft they are. Unable to stop looking at them, and at the shoes, and feeling embarrassment spike his arousal in a strange, twisty way.

"What do you think?" Louis asks, watching Bradley so very closely.

"I...it's gorgeous," Bradley murmurs, red to his ears, watching his own hand touch the heel of the black shoes. "Bit feminine for a bloke like me though, yeah? It might look silly." Humiliating, he thinks, flushing even harder.

"Not silly. Maybe wrong, but not silly," Louis says, that blush turning him on so much that he's very tempted to push Bradley down over the table and take him right now. "That's part of why it's so hot."

"I'll have to take your word for it," Bradley answers, still skeptical, but wanting oh-so-badly to be convinced. He glances up at Louis almost shyly, unsure of what to do next.

Louis smiles. "What are you waiting for?" he asks, gesturing at the box. "There's dishes to be done."

Biting his lip hard, Bradley nods, reaching into the box and pulling out the stockings and shoes and garters, setting them on the low end-table. Then the dress, setting it beside them. Unable to even look at Louis directly, he strips quickly out of his clothes.

The stockings are easy, or so he thinks...he draws them up his legs one by one, the silky feeling igniting something hot in his belly. But the garters and belt are a mystery of straps and clips, and he holds it in his hands, embarrassed all over again that he can't even tell which way is front.

"Come here. I'll help you with it this time," Louis says, holding out his hand, already so aroused his cock aches with it.

Gratefully, Bradley places the garters and the belt in Louis's hand. His own cock is already stiff, wet at the tip, and sways between his thighs as he steps close to Louis, holding his arms away from his body, ready for instructions.

"First, you unfasten these," Louis says, showing Bradley the fasteners on the back of the belt. "It's easiest if you put it on with them facing the front," he continues, wrapping the belt around Bradley's hips and threading the hooks through the eyes. "And then you shift it around so they're facing the back." He makes the adjustment, smiling at the way Bradley's cock jerks with his touch.

The belt is silky-smooth against his skin, and Bradley sucks in air as Louis's fingers deftly fasten him into it, tightening it around his slim waist. The straps dangle down his thighs, almost tickling him, and he shivers. "Got it," he rasps, staring down at how the belt is fastened, trying to memorize how to do it through the pounding of his blood in his ears.

"The garters," Louis pulls one down to meet the top of Bradley's stockings, "should run right down the centre of your thigh." Finger tracing the line. "You do the front ones up and then you reach behind to do the back ones." Showing Bradley exactly how to catch the top of the stockings between the hourglass clips and rubber circles. "There, I've done the one. You do the others."

The garter strap is like a brand of fire down his thigh, Bradley's skin is so sensitized. He shivers and nods at Louis, eyes huge, even as he's reaching for the other clips, eager to obey.

Twisting to get the final back clip fastened, Bradley finally gets it hooked on the top of the stocking, on his thigh. "Okay," he breathes, shifting, feeling the belt and straps move with him, painfully hard. "Okay, thank you." He's blushing all the way down his chest, wondering if he looks ridiculous, eager to get into the high heels. The dress, he's less sure about.

"One day, when you're not working, we'll shave your legs," Louis says, running his hand up and down Bradley's leg, the soft silk of the stockings hitching his breath. "Have everything smooth under here."

For once, Bradley is glad his hair is fine and light, both in color and texture, especially on his lower legs. He puts out a foot and examines his leg, and can't see hair through it, though the sprinkle of gold is showing on his thighs. Louis's hand makes him shiver, and he nods. "That...that sounds good," he gulps. He reaches for the shoes with a hand that only trembles a little, and steps into them carefully.

He instantly feels different. Taller, for one thing. Less steady on his feet, more uncertain. His legs feel miles long, and slimmer, somehow, more elegant. He takes a deep, steadying breath.

"Mon dieu," Louis whispers, sliding his hands up the front of Bradley's thighs, very deliberately ignoring his cock. "Look at you." His own cock throbbing behind his zipper, pressing tightly, insistently against it. "Now the dress."

The heat in Louis's eyes is enough to spark an answering warmth in Bradley, who struggles past his own hesitation about the dress, and reaches for it. The back is a bewildering array of little clasps and zippers and a tie, but he gets into it smoothly enough, turning his back to Louis for help with the fastenings. It feels strange and soft, swishing around his thighs, the silken underlayer almost torturous against his cock.

Louis has never been attracted to women, except as you might admire a beautiful painting, a work of art, so there's nothing about the clothing, nothing about this feminization that arouses him, except for the fact that it's Bradley. Bradley in stockings, garters, heels. Bradley in a dress that barely covers his thighs, barely reaches the tops of his stockings. His boy. All boy. All man. He finishes with the fastenings and forces himself to step back, his cock aching, the sight taking his breath away. "Turn around," he orders.

Hesitantly, careful in his heels, Bradley does. He's never dreamed of dressing in women's clothing for anything but a lark, but this...the way Louis is looking at him, it takes his breath away. The swish of the strange clothing, the cool air on the bare strip of thigh above the stockings, the way the garters rub when he moves...he takes a deep breath and rubs his hands down the skirt, shooting little glances at Louis, wanting to see his reaction.

Cursing softly under his breath, Louis simply stares. He's seen almost everything in his years with Citadel, but this, this has him so hard, so hard his whole body aches with it. With the desire to push that skirt back up and take his boy right here, right now. "Good," he whispers, licking his lips. "You can clean up now," he says, motioning at the dishes which are still on the table. "Dishes can go in the dishwasher but you'll have to wash the pots and pans."

It's not real humiliation, Bradley knows this. The heat in Louis's gaze, the hardness that he can see in Louis's trousers, the gentle way Louis is helping him, all of it is combining to ease him into this in a way he's desperately grateful for. But that little tang of embarrassment as he turns, feeling the skirt swish around his thighs and cock as he gathers the dishes, it makes him even harder. He actually has to freeze for a quick moment, plates in hand, to take a deep breath and settle himself.

Even as he runs the water, he can feel Louis's eyes on him. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, enjoying the way his muscles pull tight. Feeling just as naked as if he'd been wearing no clothes at all.

With the island in the way, Louis stands and walks around it, his eyes roaming up and down his boy's body. From the heels emphasizing the muscles in his calves to the flashes of skin between stocking and skirt. Mon dieu. Louis swallows hard, moving behind Bradley. "I think you need to bend over the sink a little more," he says softly.

Straining his ears to the limit, Bradley can hear Louis moving. He can even hear the click as he swallows heavily, and the sound sends a wash of heat through him. When Louis pauses right behind him, Bradley can't contain his shiver, and at those low, commanding words, he gulps once himself.

Hands in soapy, warm water, he ducks his head. Steps back just a little, so he can lean over, pushing his hips back for balance, spreading his legs a little for a wider base. The cool air sends prickles up the insides of his thighs, over his burning cock, so strange and intimate on that hidden bare skin.

The move exposes the backs of Bradley's thighs. Hints at what more lies beneath the fabric and Louis can't help himself. He pushes the skirt up some, exposing Bradley's ass, his balls and his rigid cock pressed against the front of the dress. "Mm." He runs his fingers between Bradley's cheeks, noting the stark contrast of the garters against his boy's pale skin.

Even the air feels like a touch on Bradley's skin; Louis's fingers burn like a brand, and Bradley jumps and sucks in a deep breath as those fingers tease at his ass, lightly brushing oversensitized skin. He can't turn around, can't do anything but try to keep breathing. He realizes he's been holding one plate under the rinse water for at least two minutes, and sets it aside before reaching for the next.

Louis sucks his thumb into his mouth, wetting it, and presses it to Bradley's hole, stretching him open a little. "I can imagine fisting you like this, in these heels, you bouncing on my hand..."

The wet, firm press of Louis's thumb makes Bradley jump a little, panting, and he has to spread his legs a little further to keep his balance in the unfamiliar heels. The thought of Louis's whole hand inside him makes him dizzy. "I, I just, I've never," he stutters a little helplessly, hips twisting as his hole contracts around the thumb.

"I know you haven't," Louis says softly, removing his thumb and taking a step back, the back of Bradley's skirt left hooked up on the garter belt. "Finish washing up and we'll see how far we can get."

Bradley's hole is wet, open, fluttering, and he whimpers a little as that warm touch is withdrawn and cool air brushes over his cheeks and thighs. The promise in Louis's voice makes his knees weak, too, and he locks them to be sure he doesn't wobble on his heels. He's washing the dishes mechanically now, quickly, only one pot left...and he can already feel his breathing getting faster as he rinses the pot, sets it carefully in the drainer, and turns to look at Louis. Knowing his face is red and his eyes are wide and bright.

"Turn off the water and stay right there," Louis orders.

Moving quickly, Bradley does as he's told, putting his hands back behind him on the edge of the sink. For balance.

Louis fetches a step stool and a tube of thicker lube and places them in front of Bradley before disappearing into the washroom to check his nails and thoroughly wash his hands and forearms.

There's a little plastic stool by his feet, and Bradley knows that's lube in the tube, and he can hear the water running. He's hot and cold and shivering already, whole body strung tight in anticipation.

Coming back from the bathroom, Louis settles himself on the stool and motions Bradley forward. "No holding onto the counter," he says. "If you really feel like you're going to fall, you can grab my shoulder."

"How do you want me?" Bradley asks, stepping forward trustingly, looking down at Louis's face. He never gets to see him from this angle...he's gorgeous, of course, and Bradley gets to see all his long eyelashes. He can't believe he's even thinking about that, when he's nearly naked in a dress, standing in high heels in front of his lover, his cock painfully rigid against smooth silk.

"Like this," Louis says with a smile, slicking his fingers and then his whole hand. "Balancing on those heels with your legs spread."

Bradley breathes. Louis is going to put his hand up inside him, like this, while he's standing. He almost staggers at the very idea, catches his balance, nods. He can do this, he's strong, he can. His hole aches and flutters, empty and needy. He spreads his legs further, still not sure how Louis is going to do this, how it's going to work with him standing, his muscles tight for balance.

"Remember, if you need to hold on to me, you can," Louis says, pushing his fingers between Bradley's cheeks and slicking the lube over his hole.

The cooling touch of the lube is so welcome Bradley moans, low in his throat, and sways a little, though he doesn't need to reach for Louis's shoulders yet. His legs are spread obscenely wide, as wide as he can without falling or straining his knees, and yet Louis's fingers feel huge and hot, pushing against him, parting his cheeks.

Louis pushes one finger then two into Bradley, the excess lube making it so easy. He groans, watching Bradley's cock bob the front of the skirt, a damp spot spreading across the fabric. "Dirty boy," he whispers, but he's smiling, gently twisting those fingers into Bradley's hole, opening him up so slowly.

Bradley's hole stretches, eases, as those fingers work up into him. It's a relief of the itchy ache he's been feeling sine he first stepped into the shoes, started feeling the deep and hot need to be taken. Owned. Claimed and possessed. "More," he begs, his voice a rusty whisper.

Louis smiles and works a third finger in alongside the first two, his own cock already hard and straining against the zipper of his jeans. Fucks them in and out of Bradley's hole, twisting them a little more roughly than before.

The sting and stretch makes Bradley's eyes fall closed, makes him sway dangerously before catching his balance again. His cock jumps and leaks, wanting more of that delicious burn.

"So beautiful," Louis murmurs, opening his fingers inside Bradley, stretching his hole wider and wider until it's ready to accommodate a fourth.

Four fingers has Bradley sucking in air in a deep gasp, and reaching for Louis's shoulder for the first time. He feels unsteady, lightheaded, floaty even though he's standing, and those fingers inside him are delicious torture. Tight, and burning, and spreading him so wide he can't even think, but he stays on his feet even as his muscles clench and release around Louis's fingers.

"Do you still want more?" Louis asks, working those fingers in and out of Bradley's hole, the muscle fluttering, resisting at first before finally easing, the path left slick and hot and open.

"God, yes, please sir," Bradley breathes, Louis's hand feeling huge and hot, invasive and intense, between his legs. He can't imagine it getting up inside him, can't even begin to think what that will feel like. He whimpers, hips twisting a little as Louis's fingers prod and nudge at his prostate.

Mon dieu. Arousal coiling ever tighter, Louis tucks his thumb in against his palm and slowly pushes deeper, taking his time, moving forward then back and then forward again, letting Bradley's body guide him until his boy has the widest part of his hand right there. "Good boy," he murmurs. "We're so close."

"Oh, god," Bradley gasps. It feels like he's being split in two, his body stretching impossibly to take Louis's hand inside him. It hurts, core-deep, in the most intimate part of him, and he staggers, grabbing hard at Louis's shoulder to take his weight. His cock is jerking, heavy and rock-hard even through this, leaking at the tip, and he can't think, his whole mind taken over by static.

"That's it," Louis nods, pushing steadily. "Hold on to me." A whispered curse, thick with awe, spilling from his lips as Bradley's body opens suddenly, pulling him in to the wrist and clamping down hard.

It's a shocking relief, and somehow still doubly intense, when Louis's hand sinks into him, his body suddenly aching with fullness, his hole clenching frantically around the intrusion. Bradley keens, high in his throat, eyes staring blindly as his body starts to shake and tremble wildly. It's like nothing he's ever felt before.

Bradley looks so beautiful like this and Louis is so hard he can barely breathe. "Magnifique," he whispers, gently twisting his hand, his knuckles rubbing right over Bradley's prostate.

Bradley staggers as Louis's hand moves inside him. He's impaled, held up as much by the hand inside him as his own legs, and he makes another high, thin sound as gravity pushes him down harder on the fist inside his body. It's too much, it's so much, his cheeks are wet and his knees are shaking hard enough that the skirt moves with it.

"You have permission," Louis tells him, twisting his fist again and again. "Anytime you want."

"I can't," Bradley gasps. He's rigid with tension keeping himself on his feet, overwhelmed by the pressure inside him, moving in him, pressing hard on his prostate. He's nowhere near coming, his whole body on fire and nerves skyrocketing in every direction.

"No?" Louis licks at Bradley's cock through the skirt. One firm flick of his tongue over the head pressing against the fabric.

"Oh my god," Bradley says, stunned by the scrape of wet heat through fabric, the way it shocks through his oversensitized nerves straight up into his brain. He staggers, almost falls, but Louis's hands are there holding him, inside and out. He starts to come, in slow, sluggish pulses, each feeling like an orgasm all on its own.

Louis groans, watching as Bradley shudders apart above him, around him, his hand buried deep inside the boy, muscle clenching and squeezing and shifting again and again. "That's it," he murmurs. "So good. For me. All of it for me, boy."

The way his body is convulsing, it feels like Bradley is pulling Louis in deeper; or maybe that's just the way his knees are shaking, his muscles gone weak and strange, and he's almost being held up by the hand inside his body. Impaled, truly, his hole fluttering helplessly around Louis's forearm just below the wrist. He makes an incoherent, strange sound that he barely even recognises as the aftershocks trail off..

Mon dieu. "So beautiful," Louis breathes, waiting for the ripples to ease before he starts to pull out. "My good boy. Hold onto me."

Bradley clings, desperately, as Louis's hand starts to leave him. Empty and hollowed-out, and he hadn't even felt it but his face is wet with tears, his hands are shaking where they hold on to Louis's shoulders. He's completely come apart, and he isn't even together enough to worry about how he'll get himself back together. He trusts Louis to do it for him.

His hand freed, Louis pushes to his feet. He gathers Bradley in his arms and picks him up and carries him to the bed where he lays him down, brushing the strands of hair back from his face. "I'm going to grab a warm washcloth and then I'll be right back," he promises.

Still speechless, eyes huge in his face, Bradley merely nods. The stockings are smooth against his legs, the skirt an unfamiliar weight and rustle around his legs. It all keeps the unreal, dreamlike feeling going. He's so deep in subspace that he whimpers out loud when Louis returns, wanting him close, more of him, touching Bradley.

"Give me just a moment," Louis says, kissing Bradley softly as he cleans between his legs.

Bradley is tender, sore, and hisses through his teeth at the soft, warm cloth touching him. But he spreads his legs obediently, sighing a little as even this sends him further down into submission, acceptance. Giving himself over to Louis's will.

Louis gently dries him off and sets both washcloth and towel aside, stretching out beside Bradley to pull him into his arms. The clothes can wait until later. "My good boy," he whispers. "You were so good for me. Magnifique."

A little smile breaks through Bradley's reserve, and he nuzzles in close to Louis, tangling himself in Louis as best he can, proud of himself for gaining Louis's praise at something so new. He's utterly exhausted now, and can barely keep his eyes open, but he does lean in for a kiss. "Thank you," he murmurs, voice raw.

Louis kisses Bradley softly, gently exploring his mouth for a moment before drawing back. "I love you," he whispers, shifting so Bradley can really curl in against him, the other side of the covers pulled over them. "Now go to sleep."

"Love you too," Bradley mumbles, startling himself with a huge yawn. He'd thought the high, the endorphins would keep him flying for ages, but instead, he can feel the heaviness of deep sleep dragging him down into the dark.

[feedback welcome. comments screened.]