Ever since he could toddle out the farmhouse door, Jayce Talis was made to understand the value of hard work. Mud on his boots, grease on his elbows, sweat on his brow, all translating into a job well done. But an extra incentive has never hurt. He can see that incentive in the corner of his eye. A twitch of movement behind the screen door. A fidgety little thing wriggles against his restraints, anxious for Jayce to finish his daily chores. It's already been a few hours, and Viktor hasn't uttered a word of complaint. Not that Jayce would be able to hear it. Viktor's mouth is also stuffed with the t-shirt Jayce wore for work yesterday.
Jayce leans against the back of his pick-up truck and tugs at his work gloves. Viktor should be able to see him from where he is, and Jayce hopes the sight of him wrapping up his work for the day is making Viktor squirm. Jayce takes his time. Pretends he's not looking in the direction of the house. He whistles, long and low, like he has all the time in the world. The old wooden boards of Jayce's porch creak beneath his feet as he approaches the screen door. Inside, Viktor shifts in his chair, his eyes widening when he sees Jayce reach for the door's handle. "Hey baby, miss me?"
Viktor nods, a pathetic whimper muffled by the fabric bunched in his mouth. Dried saliva coats his jaw. The lacy, white bodysuit Viktor wears is soaked to near transparency in the crotch. Jayce lifts his foot to the edge of the wooden chair and presses into the wet spot, causing Viktor to arch his back and groan. Mud from Jayce's boot stains the pretty, delicate fabric, but Viktor keeps grinding against the sole, relentless in his pursuit of friction and relief. Jayce shows no mercy, only pressing down harder with his toe. "My pretty girl, you're making a mess of the nice gift Daddy bought you."
There's a click against the legs of the chair. Viktor's ankles, tied to either end of his wooden cane in front of the chair, flex as he pushes his hips forward. Jayce pulls his foot back with a disdainful click of his tongue. "That just won't do, sweetheart. Here, let Daddy help you." Jayce licks the pad of his thumb and reaches between Viktor's legs to rub away at the stain. The harder he presses, the louder Viktor whines. His slender shoulders strain where his arms are tied behind the back of the chair. Viktor's pupils are massive, nearly swallowing up the amber of his irises, as he meets Jayce's gaze.
Crosspost from twt for #SubBottomVDay (day 7: all dolled up)
cw daddy kink, feminization, restraints
4/5
