It started on the morning of their day off.
Every week, they had one day with nothing: no rink time, no cardio, no plans, and no responsibilities, save for fawning over Makkachin. It was necessary. A rest day was vital.
Victor had other plans.
Yuuri woke to lips on his cheek and hands sliding over his skin. He mumbled soft protests, half-hearted in the wake of sweet kisses and Victor nuzzling his nose into Yuuri’s neck. He tried to hold out, but the kisses and the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast was far more enticing than he expected. Yuuri cracked his eyes open. Victor’s too-blue eyes were bright with delight.
Yuuri rolled over. “Mmmm, too early.”
“But Master Yuuri, I’ve made you breakfast in bed,” Victor laughed. The dreamy fugue was thick. It took Yuuri a long moment to register exactly what Victor had said. He heard the clatter of china and silver as something was picked up from nearby, and Yuuri snapped his eyes open.
“-What do you… mean…?” Yuuri trailed off. He fumbled for his glasses, slowly sliding upright in shock. Victor beamed. He settled a breakfast tray next to Yuuri’s lap. So that was the source of the smell, Yuuri realized hazily. He could barely pay it any mind. Instead, his eyes were locked on Victor. More specifically, he was fixated on the spectacle that was Victor’s fashion choice this morning.
It was a maid’s dress, short to the point of indecency, ruffled and poofing out around his thighs. Bows and ribbons bound him like wrappings on a gift, stockings pinned mid-thigh by lacy garters that vanished under the skirt.
He wore a ruffled headdress, more ribbons twisting into his hair and matching the little cuffs he had around each wrist. Victor’s shapely, well-muscled thighs were suited to the stockings, looking even longer than usual, leading all the way down to his slender ankles and the black patent leather pumps. Victor was steady as he stepped back from the bed, beaming.
Even his hair had been styled, swept perfectly across his forehead the way it did for competitions and public events. An unmistakable swipe of gloss shimmered on his lips. Yuuri swallowed nervously.
“Victor. What’s this?”
“Hmm, oh this?” Victor asked, doing a small turn for Yuuri’s benefit. Yuuri found himself licking his lips at the sight of Victor’s ass barely covered by the skirt, the short swathe of pale thigh peeking out beneath, and the lay of ruffled lace and bows hemming the top of the stockings. Even the apron around him matched, the ties gathered into a full, puffed white bow at his back. “It’s for fun.”
“Fun,” Yuuri said, confused. So Victor had been serious when he'd mentioned something like this the other day.
It had seemed like an offhand comment, and Yuuri had agreed, because the image it presented had been enough to make him salivate. Yuuri should have known Victor wouldn't have mentioned something like this if he hadn't been fully intending on following through.
Beside the plates and the fresh mug of coffee, Yuuri spotted his phone. Victor was smiling encouragingly in a way that could only mean trouble. When Yuuri unlocked his phone, he found a new app that had definitely not been there last night. Yuuri was speechless.
Victor grinned, a little laugh bubbling in his chest, impossible to hold back. Ridiculous. There was no way that Victor would do something like this. Except, it seemed, he had. Yuuri stared.
Weakly, he croaked, “T-turn around again?” He gave his finger a little twirl.
Victor laughed. “You look surprised,” he said smugly.
He started to slowly turn, tipping his ass out for Yuuri’s benefit. Yuuri couldn't help but eye the way Victor’s broad shoulders tapered into his waist, the way the skirt hung on his hips, and how Victor teased the ruffles out of the way to expose the pretty, black lace panties. Victor pulled the waistband of the panties down to show off his pert buttocks and the hint of color between.
He had their newly-purchased vibrating plug buried inside him, the base just visible between the cheeks. “I'm here for you to use, Master Yuuri, however you like. Your own maid. That is, if you're interested!” Victor winked and pulled the panties back into place. He struck a cute little pose that made his legs look longer and his eyes seem to glitter in the morning light.
Yuuri was interested. “You're ridiculous,” was what he said instead. His cheeks felt hot. “When did you get this dress? And I-” he broke off. “I don't want to just… use you.”
Victor smelled the lie. He leaned forward, tipping Yuuri’s chin up with a single finger. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Even if I want to be used? Show me your Eros, Yuuri. I'm here to do whatever you say. Anything and everything.”
Yuuri wheezed a little. Living Legend Victor Nikiforov was in a slutty maid dress and heels and was promising to follow Yuuri’s every command.
“Anything?” he asked suspiciously. “And the vibrator?”
“Just for a little fun,” Victor said with an impish smile. “Can you do it Yuuri? Can you show me all of your Eros?”
“Is that a challenge?” Yuuri asked. He raised one eyebrow.
Victor looked entirely too pleased with himself. “It might be. So, for breakfast: eggs, toast?” He gestured again at the tray, and that gleam crept into his eyes. His hips tipped out again, sultry and just a little slutty. He pressed a finger to his lips. “Or me?” He was a vision of mock-innocence.
“You are a naughty maid, aren't you,” Yuuri said slowly.
"Seulement pour vous, maître Yuuri," Victor purred, acting like he was cute in his tiny skirt and stockings. “Naughty and French, if you'd believe it. But I'll behave if you want me to.”
“Maybe I don't want you to behave,” Yuuri replied before he could bite his tongue. His legs fell apart, bringing the blanket with one of his knees and exposing his thighs to the cool, morning air. He had worn only his boxer briefs and one of Victor’s shirts to bed. He buried the embarrassment with a thick swallow, his throat tight. “You could suck me off while I eat?”
Yuuri berated himself internally for it until he saw the surprised blush on Victor’s face. “Of course, Master Yuuri,” Victor choked, nodding quickly. Almost overeager, Victor toed off the heels and slid between Yuuri’s legs, the tray left on the bed beside Yuuri.
Hands slid up his thighs as Yuuri took the first bite of toast. Victor was kneeling on the bed, his stockinged legs twisting into the bedsheets. Victor trailed a line of feathery kisses up Yuuri’s skin. The tails of the bow in Victor’s headdress skimmed along Yuuri’s leg, teasing, almost ticklish, just like the gentle presses of his lips.
Yuuri tried to focus on breakfast. He tried to ignore Victor completely, pretend this was normal, routine. The disinterest spurred Victor on. He got a little more teasing, a little giggly. He nuzzled against Yuuri’s cock through the fabric, kissing and licking, mouthing softly at the head until Yuuri groaned. Yuuri tried to bury it in his coffee. The heat grounded him. He pretended to ignore it as he slowly got harder and harder under Victor’s touch. He burned for more.
Victor pulled down the waistband of the shorts. His cock sprang free, hard and aching, and Yuuri’s breath hitched. There was a moment of nothingness. Heat curled in his gut, the desire aimless and stretching into emptiness. And then the warmth surrounded him, Victor’s lips wrapping perfectly around the head of the cock. Yuuri shuddered.
The fork slipped from his fingers, clattering noisily onto the plate. The sound jarred him enough to refocus. He grabbed the fork and hastily started eating as Victor lapped and sucked at his cock, the silver head bobbing sweetly between his thighs. Sometimes Victor’s gaze would flicker up, and the smile would reach his eyes, crinkling the corners.
With every one of Yuuri’s moans, the flush on Victor’s cheeks deepened. Yuuri’s eyelids fluttered. The pleasure was exquisite: the careful suck at the head, the drag of a tongue along the thick vein, the soft lapping at the slit.
It was quiet, and yet it wasn’t, not at all. Yuuri could hear the distant chatter of birdsong, the music of Victor moaning, whisper-soft, with every breath, the occasional slurping sounds of Victor swallowing down the length of Yuuri’s cock. He could hear the clatter of his fork scraping against the plate. His own moans were audible as well.
Yuuri slid one hand down. His fingers wove into Victor’s hair, careful not to mess up the headpiece, but pulling Victor down further onto his cock. Victor whimpered sweetly. His lips stretched around Yuuri’s length, and he took Yuuri deeper still into his throat, swallowing him down and letting the cock rest heavily on his tongue.
What he couldn’t fit in his mouth, he worked between his fingers, curling the tips up to stroke the perineum, then tipping his palm to cradle Yuuri’s balls. The other hand he wrapped around the base of Yuuri’s cock, stroking it slowly and working it over with as much care as he did with his mouth. Victor was thorough in his attentions.
“Mmm,” Yuuri hummed, a little breathless. “Feels good.”
Victor pulled off with a little sucking sound, leaving one last kitten lick to the head. He rested his cheek against Yuuri’s thigh. “Is that right?” The flush on his cheeks was dark, coloring down his collarbones. Yuuri wondered how far down his chest it reached. Victor squirmed between Yuuri’s legs.
Yuuri hummed a soft agreement. The soft pleasure made him feel bold. He guided Victor's face back between his legs and desperately hoped he wasn't taking this little game too far. “Keep going.”
Victor groaned happily, eagerly taking Yuuri back between his lips and sucking Yuuri’s cock like it was all he could ever want. “So good, Victor,” Yuuri moaned. Yuuri reached for his coffee and finished it in a few gulps, chasing away the last of breakfast.
Victor’s hips twitched. They rocked slowly, and Yuuri realized one of the hands on his cock had pulled away. Victor was palming himself through the dress.
“Naughty maid,” Yuuri chastised gently, using his foot to swat at Victor’s bottom. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” Victor moaned and the guilty hand slid up Yuuri’s leg and settled on his hip. Yuuri reached for his phone, fumbling silently with the passcode. He opened the new app. It was a remote for the plug inside Victor, just like he'd suspected.
Yuuri tapped the screen, setting the vibrator to the lowest intensity. It must have worked, because Victor jerked and shuddered, his moans sending delicious vibrations of their own up Yuuri’s cock. Victor’s enthusiasm kicked up another notch, and Yuuri fell back onto the pillows, fighting to keep from pitching his hips up into Victor’s throat.
The heat was like a low furnace slowly growing hotter and hotter until it threatened to burn, a painful ache inside him desperate for release. Victor gave head like it was all he had been born to do, like Yuuri’s cock was the only thing that would satisfy him. Victor’s tongue swirled and Yuuri cried out, fisting the sheets in one hand and clutching at Victor’s hair with the other. There was almost no warning, just the edge of pleasure lurking so close for so long, and Yuuri was coming, spilling down Victor’s throat.
Victor swallowed it as best he could. A few drops escaped, and the traces of come dribbled from Victor’s suck-swollen lips and down his chin. He was breathing heavily. The headpiece was crooked. Victor sat back, the dress out of place, and Yuuri could see the hard line of Victor’s cock pressed against the front of the panties. He looked rumpled. “Yuuri,” he breathed.
Yuuri tried to catch his breath.
He'd just gotten a blowjob and breakfast in bed from Victor Nikiforov. That would never not send his mind spiraling into a whirlwind of amazement, but especially now, he needed this moment to hold himself together.
No one else would ever see Victor on his knees for them. No one else would ever have Victor like this, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing with arousal, in lingerie and a dress, their come on his lips. Only for Yuuri.
With a quick touch, Yuuri straightened the ruffled headband. He palmed Victor’s cock as he pulled the dress down, smiling up at Victor. “Maybe later, we’ll take care of this. First, clean this mess up.”
Victor groaned, looking faintly disappointed. “Yuuuuuri, please.” He wriggled, rutting into Yuuri’s hand, and Yuuri remembered the vibrating plug that had to be filling Victor up so nice and full, maybe pressed right up against his prostate and buzzing away. Victor looked desperate for a touch, like he would spill with just the slightest provocation. Yuuri switched the vibrator off and smirked.
“Come on, you're a maid aren't you? A maid like you should do the dishes before I fuck you.”
Victor jerked, biting his lip to suppress a moan.
He reluctantly left the bed, the dress tenting slightly from his erection. “Yes… Master Yuuri,” Victor panted. Yuuri watched as Victor dutifully slipped the heels back on and gathered the mess. It was a sight, and it was everything Victor had asked for, to be used and given his release only when Master Yuuri thought he deserved it.
Victor tried to sashay out of the room with the tray in hand, hindered by the heels and his obvious hard-on. He flashed one final smile into the room. Makkachin crept in through the newly opened door, tail wagging.
Yuuri sank backward into the bed. He was breathless, less from his arousal and more from stark shock. He stared up at the ceiling. “That was so embarrassing,” he whispered to Makkachin. But there was a warmth there too, something cozy and satisfied curling inside him that had been more than happy to watch Victor’s ass in that cute little skirt as Yuuri’s ridiculous lover strutted from the room.
Yuuri stretched with a little groan. If Victor could play this little game of his, confess his desires like this, so could Yuuri. Yuuri could do better than Victor would ever expect, surprise him in every way, just as Victor loved to do in return. The smile crept onto his lips. He slipped out of bed, then padded down the hall.
The sound of running water came from the kitchen. Victor was humming lightly to himself as Yuuri stepped into the room. The skirt swished with every swing of Victor’s hips. Yuuri quietly unlocked his phone and set the vibrator to buzz again. Victor went still, a low sigh escaping his lips.
The swaying stopped, and instead, Victor tipped his hips back, presenting a pretty image waiting to be fucked. He was elbows deep in suds, the wrist cuffs discarded on the counter to the side. Victor batted his eyes at Yuuri.
He beamed at the sight of Yuuri in his shirt. “Master Yuuri, do I really have to do the dishes?” He offered his best puppy face. Makkachin woofed happily beside him, backing him up. She always did play favorites to whoever gave her breakfast that morning, and today that was Victor. “We should play a little.”
“You’re the one in the maid dress,” Yuuri said with a little grin. “Come on, I’ll help you.” He brushed around the kitchen island. He couldn’t watch this mess without either wanting to bend Victor over or pitch in with the tidying, so he went with the more rational, less fun of the two options. They could at least screw on a clean counter.
Yuuri grabbed a bottle of cleanser and got to work. Victor had wreaked havoc on the kitchen trying to make the morning meal. While it had been delicious, made all the better with Victor’s exquisite ability to give head, the damage was monumental.
Victor made his way through most the dishes, and Yuuri got to work, wiping down the surfaces and cleaning the spatters of raw egg and toast crumbs that speckled them. Yuuri was done with his part before Victor had finished, and he leaned back, content to indulge in watching for a moment.
Victor must have felt the gaze, because he swayed in place, putting on a little show for Yuuri while he cleaned. Yuuri turned the intensity up on the vibrator, and Victor let out another of those pretty, breathy sighs. Yuuri could see the awkward squirm as he tried not to show how it affected him, how pleasurable it must have felt to be plugged up and waiting for Yuuri to use at his leisure.
Victor was still buried in suds when Yuuri’s self control wavered. He stepped forward, burying his chin between Victor’s shoulder blades, his nose in Victor’s hair. His hands slid forward. One settled lightly on Victor’s waist while the other traveled a little further down, hitching up the front of the dress. The lace was soft under his fingers, tight to the line of Victor’s erection. There was a spot of dampness around the head. Yuuri cupped his hand around Victor and held it there. Victor rocked his hips up to rub against the pressure.
“Aaahh, Yuuri,” Victor breathed.
“Don't move,” Yuuri said.
Victor went still, his lower lip slipping between his teeth. The hand on Victor’s waist slid down. Yuuri felt his way up the skirt, feeling for the top of the panties, pulling them back just enough for Yuuri to slip his fingers between his cheeks. Victor’s breath caught. Yuuri tapped the plug with his fingers and Victor reacted beautifully, gasping with every shift. Yuuri closed his fingers around it and pulled it a little, rocking it inside him, twisting it so Victor would feel it.
It had the desired response. Just like air let out from a balloon, Victor deflated, leaning heavily against Yuuri. His head sagged onto Yuuri’s shoulder, his breath coming in short gasps.
Yuuri played with the plug until Victor was making little sounds of pleasure beneath him. “I think I'm ready for round two now,” Yuuri murmured. “You keep tempting me like this, how could I refuse?”
“Yes yes yesss,” Victor groaned. He pitched his hips so his ass tilted back against Yuuri’s groin, grinding against Yuuri’s slowly stirring interest.
Yuuri flipped them around, pulling Victor out of the suds and facing the kitchen island, bent over the counter. Victor’s legs immediately slid apart. He glanced back over his shoulder at Yuuri, a smile on his face. Yuuri dropped a hand towel onto Victor’s arms.
He braced Victor’s body with his own legs, pinning Victor to the counter. Victor made a noise like a dying animal. Yuuri reached for the hem of the skirt and slowly lifted it up, sliding his palms over the curve of Victor’s thighs and butt, until the skirt was hitched up around his hips.
The panties were tight, almost indecent, ruffled with lace that matched the dress. Yuuri snapped the band and Victor’s breath caught. Victor’s hips pushed back, needy, desperate, wanting more. Yuuri slid his hands a few times over the surface. It was a casual touch, but possessive.
Mine, that touch said, and Victor shuddered quietly on the countertop, desperately pleased. Yuuri slid the panties out of the way, mindful of the garter belt holding the stockings up. He could see the base of the plug again, waiting for Yuuri to remove and use.
Yuuri slowly pulled at the plug, feeling it slide so easily out of Victor’s body. Yuuri groaned when he saw the flared end of the bulb peek out between the cheeks, framed by the draping ruffles of the skirt. “You picked the big one,” he said.
Victor was breathless. “Wanted… to be ready... “ he panted. “Wanted you to use me…”
Yuuri bit back another moan. He thrust the plug back inside, rocking it in his fingers, listening to the way Victor cried out in bliss.
“Yuuri, Yuuri please,” Victor panted. “Please, take it out.”
“Is that what you want, Victor?” Yuuri breathed. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Ahh, yes, Yuuri, yes, please,” Victor said. Yuuri teased the base of the plug, slowly spinning it inside of Victor, drawing it halfway out and then pushing it back in again. The silicone toy gleamed with lube. “Yuuri, please.”
His voice was strangled with a mix of pleasure and need, and Yuuri indulged him, tugging the toy free of his body completely. Victor let out a heady groan, empty and needing something more to fill him.
The hole gaped slightly, open and ready to be fucked. Victor needed this, needed Master Yuuri’s cock inside his body. He was just a thing to be used for his master’s pleasure, and Yuuri would certainly indulge his favorite maid.
Yuuri slipped two fingers inside Victor’s body, and they went in easily. Victor was hot and wet and slick inside, the muscles fluttering around his fingers. How much lube had Victor used, to make himself so slick and ready for Yuuri? How eager he must have been this morning, thinking about Yuuri taking him hard against the kitchen counter, his fingers buried inside himself and stretching himself out enough to fit the plug inside him.
Yuuri set the plug onto the counter and smirked.
“So wet for me, Victor,” Yuuri murmured. He twisted his fingers inside Victor, thrusting them gently in and out. He knew by now where Victor’s prostate was, knew by muscle memory as much as conscious knowledge, and he deliberately bypassed it. “Feels like you’re so eager to have me inside you. Is that what you want?”
“Yessss,” Victor said. His body rocked slowly on the fingers, trying to fuck himself on them, but Yuuri caught his hips and held him still against the counter.
Yuuri licked his lips. “Stay like that for me,” he said. He drew the two fingers out, and strings of slick webbed between the fingers when he pulled them apart. The black boxer briefs were tight in the front. Yuuri almost hadn’t realized how hard he’d gotten until just now, he’d been so fixated on the writhing, needy mess of Victor.
Yuuri pushed down the front of the briefs, freeing himself with a soft sigh. He stroked his cock a few times, slicking the length of it up just a bit with the extra lube from his messy fingers. He didn’t hesitate to push in. Victor whined a little at the stretch, but the sounds pitched into breathy moans of pleasure very quickly as Yuuri bottomed out inside him.
Yuuri had to bite his lip, the tight heat like heaven around him. There wasn’t as much friction as he had expected, just the smooth slide of Victor’s body opening up around his cock. He held himself there, listening to Victor’s breath even out.
“Is that what you want?” Yuuri asked. He slid his hands slowly over Victor’s thighs, forcing them a little further apart for easier access. “Stay just like that,” he said. “Right there, and let me enjoy you.”
Victor let out one final noise of wordless agreement before Yuuri drew his length out of Victor’s body and thrust back in, fucking him hard enough against the counter that Victor’s hips rocked up. With each thrust, Victor’s hips rolled into the air. He rose onto the balls of his feet, the high heels making sharp popping noises as each thrust sent his body rocking across the counter, his heels slamming into the tile floor.
The kitchen island was the perfect height for this. Victor was splayed across the surface, legs spread, open and moaning prettily for Yuuri to fuck him.
“Harder,” Victor moaned, and Yuuri complied, clutching at ribbons with his fingers and holding on.
It was hard and fast and rough, and Victor’s hands scrabbled against the marble surface for purchase. There was nowhere to grab. He reached back and slid his hands over Yuuri’s thighs, feeling out the roll of muscle under the skin as Yuuri rocked into him, filling him with every thrust. Yuuri felt it building again, faster than the blowjob with breakfast. Seeing Victor come undone beneath him was enough to have him holding on for as long as he could, trying to hold out.
“Close,” Victor said. He squeezed his fingers tight into Yuri’s legs. “Oh god, so close.”
Yuuri grabbed Victor’s cock at the base and squeezed, holding him tight enough to kill the need to come. “Not now,” Yuuri breathed, burying his cock deep inside Victor’s ass and letting himself go, groaning softly as he spilled inside, painting the insides with his come.
Victor keened softly, scrabbling his fingers along the marble surface, breathy and light as he was denied his release. “Yuuri, Yuuri please-”
“Shhh,” Yuuri said softly, trying to catch his breath. “Later. I’ll let you come later. For now, just stay like this.”
“Yuuuuri,” Victor groaned. He squirmed, but Yuuri held tight to his hips, holding him still. Yuuri slowly pulled out, careful to keep everything inside, and he replaced the plug inside of Victor.
“I want you ready for me the next time I need you,” Yuuri murmured. “Come on, finish the dishes.” He tugged Victor’s panties back up into place, and then he brushed the skirt back down. Victor had yet to move. Yuuri swatted him gently on the thigh and kissed his neck.
“So mean to me, Master Yuuri,” Victor mumbled into the counter. Yuuri felt a sudden wave of sick anxiousness when Victor didn’t move, legs still splayed apart.
With skating, it was always so easy to know what the judges would think. Either the points were there, or they weren’t. The performance had a clear-cut system for right and wrong, success and failure.
People were harder. People took things personally, and Victor was surprisingly soft, softer than Yuuri had ever anticipated. With Yuuri, Victor would cry. With Yuuri, Victor would beg, smile that lovely little smile he only wore when he was truly happy and not just pretending for the cameras, be freer than he was with anyone else.
It wasn’t something Yuuri could deny anymore. Not after everything they’d been through together. Victor was open with him, and that openness meant the chance for one of them to get hurt.
It left a curious tightness in his chest. It was a fear, deep seated and entirely illogical, that Yuuri would do something minor and fuck this all up. That he'd push things too far and Victor would leave him.
But the openness meant something else as well.
Victor cocked his head back, looking up at Yuuri with darkened, lust-filled eyes, his lower lip bitten and pinned between his teeth. He looked vulnerable, but also aroused, so aroused that it was painted on his flushed cheeks and the sweat on his brow. He smiled a little. The reassurance was small, but Yuuri could see the loving approval behind it.
“Will you use me again if I finish the dishes?” he asked, a sly curl to his lips.
Yuuri wheezed out the breath he'd been holding unconsciously. “We’ll see,” Yuuri choked. He closed his eyes and steadied himself. Victor had asked for this. This was as much for Victor as it was for Yuuri. He didn't want Victor thinking he couldn't pull something like this off and then never share his kinks again. So Yuuri took a long, deep breath, tucked his cock back into the boxer briefs, and smoothed a hand over the rounded curve of Victor’s ass. “Maybe if you're good, I'll fuck you again. We’ll see how busy I am.”
Victor sucked in a breath and closed his eyes.
Yuuri affectionately snapped the top of one of the stockings against Victor’s thigh. “Lazing around is not how a good maid earns his master’s cock.”
“ Jesus , Yuuri,” Victor gasped. He stood up, a little shaky. The front of the dress was tenting obviously in the front. Victor took a careful moment to adjust himself as best he could, trying and failing to contain the raging erection. He was too hard to walk right. It left him noticeably more unsteady in the heels he wore.
But Victor returned to the dishes all the same. Yuuri leaned back. Precome was smeared across the counter from Victor’s cock. There was a puddle of drool where Victor’s head had been. Yuuri had managed to reduce Victor into a writhing, incoherent mess.
He wondered if he could do it again.
Victor’s swaggering step returned as his erection finally started to flag from neglect, untouched and ignored, save for the drag of lace over his genitals. Yuuri found himself fixated on the little squirming motions Victor gave off every time Yuuri switched up the pace on the vibrator, but Victor didn’t make any more sounds.
He dried his hands off slowly when he was finished. Yuuri could have stared at his flushed cheeks and neck all day, the line of his jaw, the smooth juncture where the column of his neck met his shoulder. The edgings of lace only improved the picture, taking something ethereal and beautiful and solid as Victor, broad shouldered and tall, and made him into something existing purely for Yuuri’s enjoyment.
It was a heady thought. So much pressure. Yuuri would get a gold in this.
“The trophy shelf is looking a bit dusty,” Yuuri commented. He retrieved a feather duster and passed it over with a little grin.
“Really, Yuuri?” Victor said. One eyebrow rose. He looked somewhere between ready to laugh and ready to complain. Yuuri slid a palm up Victor’s chest, rising up to press his lips close to Victor’s ear. He savored the way Victor shuddered happily beneath him.
“You’re the one who picked the maid outfit,” Yuuri murmured into his ear. “Please be good for me? We can watch a movie later, and if you behave yourself, I’ll fuck you again.”
“You’re killing me, Yuuri,” Victor gasped. “Do you have any idea how sexy you look when you say things like that?”
Yuuri raked his fingers across his scalp, pushing the hair back from his face. The glasses slipped down his nose. He peered at Victor down his nose, hoping to god he looked sexy and not as ridiculous as he felt. “Are you going to keep me waiting?” Yuuri said. Victor swore in French, and Yuuri put a finger to Victor’s lips. “Now is that any language to be using around your master?”
“You’re right,” Victor replied, smoother than silk, biting back the flush on his face. “My apologies, Master Yuuri, I’ll clean that up right away.” Victor grumbled something soft enough that Yuuri couldn’t quite make it out. But he picked up the feather duster all the same and headed for the case.
Yuuri watched for a moment before he clicked his tongue. He had to keep an image of casual aloofness, despite his doubts in himself. “Keep cleaning here, and then tidy the bedroom when you’re done,” he said. “I’m going to run to the grocery store to pick up a few things for the week. If you get done early, clean the tub next, and then start on the living room.”
“Now you’re just using me as slave labor,” Victor pouted. “My master is so cruel to me.”
Yuuri gave him a peck on the cheek as he passed. “Be good while I’m gone. And don’t touch yourself. I want you just as you are when I get home.”
“Yuuuuuuri,” Victor groaned. He draped himself over Yuuri’s shoulders. His nose nuzzled into Yuuri’s hair. “You know I’ll always want you just as badly as I do now.”
“Then should I say I want to be there to see you come undone for me?” Yuuri said. He returned the gesture, wrapping his arms up around Victor’s neck.
Victor’s tactile form of love was grounding, something Yuuri could bury his face into, close his eyes, find the strength to silence the doubt and nagging fears that he was going to screw everything up. He found reassurance in a touch of the hand, in a simple hug, in the way Victor kissed him like he was the most precious thing in the world.
Yuuri focused on that. His eyes closed, and he let himself fall into the touch for as long as he dared. He pulled away sooner than he’d like.
“I’ll be home soon. I expect this place to be spotless, do you understand?” Yuuri said. “No getting distracted.”
Victor pouted. “Oh fine,” he said. He pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s jaw, swift and sweet. Yuuri headed to the bedroom to shower and dress.
He kept it casual, something he could come home and lounge in when he got back, but not so sloppy he couldn't run to pick up groceries. He smoothed a hand over Victor’s ass as he left, admiring the way Victor was bent double on his knees to dust the array of prizes he'd won.
Victor Nikiforov, who had taken home countless gold medals in competitions all over the world, was on his knees in a maid dress dusting his own prizes because Yuuri said so. It was more than a little heady.
“Be back soon,” Yuuri said. He tucked his phone into the pockets of his sweatpants. Even while away, no one said Yuuri couldn't have a little bit of fun. He turned the vibrator off and left.
Technology was a beautiful thing. Yuuri could control the plug from anywhere with the app, even the produce aisle.
At the entrance to the store, he kicked the plug back on, wondering if Victor would jolt in surprise. If Victor was still cleaning the case, if the plug was pressed right up against his prostate when it started to buzz away without warning.
Or maybe Victor was cleaning their room. Maybe he was changing the sheets, remembering the last time he bent Yuuri double in that bed and fucked him. He could have felt the vibe come to life inside him and longed for Yuuri to replace it with something a little better.
Maybe he was holding his stomach and thinking about how deliciously full of Yuuri’s come he was, a pretty little cumdump in a skirt hungry for cock and master’s release filling him up.
Victor said Yuuri was always on his mind. As long as Yuuri was switching the vibrator’s pace periodically, there was no way Victor could forget.
He took his sweet time. He texted Victor, telling him to bathe Makkachin before he got home. He paid and headed to a bakery, studying the selection of sweet breads and hearty loaves. Surely they could afford to splurge on the carbs just this once.
Then he stopped at their favorite little local restaurant and grabbed a pair of salads to-go for them to eat at lunch.
Makkachin greeted Yuuri at the door, tail wagging, fur wet and starting to curl.
Yuuri set the bags down in the kitchen and stopped to pet her. “Oooh such a pretty girl,” Yuuri cooed. “You smell so good now. Where is Victor at?”
Victor wrapped himself around the corner, leaning against it with a smile. “Welcome home, Master Yuuri,” he purred.
“It smells nice in here,” Yuuri said.
“I started laundry,” Victor said.
Yuuri could see the slight tremble in Victor’s legs. He was turned on, but so very, very good at hiding it. Yuuri made a show of turning off the vibrator, and Victor visibly relaxed. “You are a good maid,” Yuuri said, smiling. He beckoned with his finger. “Put these groceries away. I’m going to walk Makkachin.”
“Yuuuuuri,” Victor whined.
“Keep being patient, Victor,” Yuuri said. He tipped Victor’s chin down for a long, slow kiss, soft and warm. “I’ll be back soon.” He grabbed the leash and whistled and Makkachin hopped too, following along with a wag in her tail.
Yuuri heard Victor’s groan of frustration through the door and he stifled a little laugh. “Ah, Makka, he’s getting frustrated. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
Victor was even more frustrated on Yuuri’s return, but Yuuri pretended like he didn’t notice. Yuuri simply stared expectantly at Victor until Victor resumed cleaning the living room. The house was gleaming by now, and Yuuri had to admit, he could get used to this.
Yuuri never minded cleaning, and Victor was neat enough as well, but watching the flush on Victor’s face as he cleaned was more than worth whatever else came out of this. It was worth seeing Victor so desperately turned on as he tried to stay focused on his tasks.
At a command, Victor started to tidy the living room up under Yuuri’s supervision, restacking scattered magazines and books, stashing the lube back between the couch cushions where they liked to hide it when surprise guests came over.
Victor had just started to clean the glass windows when Yuuri casually walked up behind him, placing his chin softly on Victor’s shoulder and reaching around to feel under the skirt. “All mine,” he whispered. Victor’s shoulders went tense, then relaxed into the touch. A little moan slipped from his lips. Yuuri stroked him slowly.
Just when he felt Victor starting to get hard again, he backed away, settling back on the couch with a magazine. He feigned disinterest as Victor flushed and tried to continue cleaning.
Each time Victor switched to a new task, eventually it would begin again. A soft touch to the thighs, a skim of the fingers along the juncture of Victor’s ass and legs, even once or twice more palming Victor’s cock through the skirt, stroking him just enough before backing off to leave Victor whining in frustration.
It must have felt like forever to Victor, the long wait between having to clean while being tormented by Yuuri’s touch, relentless and teasing and so sweetly combining with the plug vibrating away inside his body. Finally Yuuri stole the feather duster from Victor with a little kiss to the cheek.
“Come on, you’ve been so good for me. How about we watch something now?”
“Yuuri, I'm dying,” Victor said in all seriousness.
“I'm sure you are,” Yuuri replied.
They put a movie on, made some diet-approved, butter-free popcorn, and cuddled on the couch. Under the score, during quiet moments in the film, Yuuri could hear the buzzing of the vibrator humming away. For the first few minutes, he kept things interesting, switching up the pace.
Victor’s lips were a distraction, mouthing sweetly at his neck, fingers trawling indulgently along Yuuri’s skin. He’d played with the idea of putting on a pair of sweatpants before watching the movie, but the thought of having Victor curled up against him dressed like this was far too enticing.
“Yuuri,” Victor breathed. Yuuri hummed, not looking away from the film. Victor pressed a few kisses to his jaw. He was breathless and excited, rubbing slightly against Yuuri. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Your come inside me. I just want to have you back inside me again. I want it so bad, Yuuri.”
“Is that right?” Yuuri said. He felt a familiar flutter in his chest, one acutely linked to Victor and anything he could possibly do.
Victor nosed at Yuuri’s neck, feathering kisses there along the collarbone at the edge of the shirt’s neckline.
“Yes,” Victor said. He touched his stomach. “Yuuri, I feel you inside me. I want more. Please, please Yuuri.”
Yuuri tipped the bowl a little, spilling popcorn onto the floor. “Oops,” he breathed back. “How about you keep telling me how badly you need it while you pick that up?”
Victor stared and so Yuuri stared back. Each one silently dared the other to break contact first, and so the unblinking stare-off continued. At least, it continued until Yuuri touched his thumb to his phone without looking, dialing up the intensity on the vibrator. Victor’s eyes closed involuntarily and he let out a soft moan.
“You win,” Victor groaned, shuffling slowly out of the warmth of their cuddle pile on the couch. Victor straightened out the dress again, set the stockings to rights, and then struck another cute little pose, sticking his butt out. He touched his lips with a little smile. “Master Yuuri, I'll do whatever you say.”
“Yes you will,” Yuuri said. “Or do you need to be punished?”
Victor winked and slowly bent double, turning the motion of stooping to sweep up the fallen popcorn into something Yuuri would expect to see in a strip tease. Victor made it into an elaborate mating dance of sorts. He wagged his ass around as he picked up the kernels, the skirt sliding so enticingly up to expose the racy edge of the panties, the long strip of flawless skin between stocking and skirt on full display.
Yuuri could see the muscles rolling under his skin, powerful and thick from years of skating, made dainty with the bows and lace. Yuuri couldn't help himself. He reached out and slid his palm down the curve of Victor’s backside, admiring how tight it was, how full, how soft. Victor was showing how badly he wanted to be fucked again, and Yuuri was weakening in his resolve.
He could feel himself starting to stiffen from the show. He'd have to be carved from stone to feel nothing, watching Victor move like this. Victor finished the job and slowly straightened up, every move deliberate and languidly smooth.
Victor grinned as he straddled Yuuri’s thighs, folding his arms around Yuuri’s neck. “Voulez vous coucher avec moi, mon maitre?” Victor breathed out in a little laugh.
Yuuri gently swatted the skin of his thighs. “I don't speak French but I think you're being naughty, Victor.”
“A naughty French maid?” Victor asked. His smile turned radiantly beautiful and entirely unconvincing in its fake innocence. “All that time in America and you don't know what that one means?”
“You think I should reward you for acting slutty like this?” Yuuri murmured into Victor’s ear. He slid a finger down Victor’s waist, tracing the lines of the dress, the seams, the lace, the ruffles. He slid the other hand down to Victor’s thigh and let it rest there. Victor squirmed. His cock was fiercely hard, pushing against the front of the dress. “Such an eager little slut for Master’s cock. No, I won't fuck you, not right now.”
“Shh,” Yuuri murmured. “But you can keep my cock warm for me while we finish the movie.”
Victor looked like Christmas had come early. “C-can I?” he sputtered. Yuuri smiled, leaning back and sliding the panties down around Victor’s thighs, minding the garter belt’s clips where they attached to the stockings.
“Clench for me, Victor. I want you to keep my cum inside you when I pull the plug out. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course,” Victor panted. His eyes closed when Yuuri’s fingers found the plug, drawing it out of him once more. It came out easier this time, Victor’s body opened up once already today by Yuuri’s cock, but it served well enough. Yuuri tugged gently. Victor made soft, sweet little sounds of protests when it was out of him. “Empty, Yuuri, please, I want-”
“I know what you need,” Yuuri said. He worked the front of his pants down, stifling a little groan. Victor’s little show had left him turned on and hard.
He dug around for the hidden bottle of lube and slicked himself. He held back the hiss at the cool temperature. When he was ready, he guided Victor’s hips onto his cock, slowly settling Victor down in his lap. The sprawl of limbs made it awkward. Victor was tall enough that he was folded up in a way Yuuri didn’t think was comfortable. All the same, Victor let out a peaceful sigh as Yuuri pushed into the tight heat of his body.
Yuuri had been afraid that it wouldn’t have been slick enough, that there would have been enough friction to make it unpleasant. But the come inside of Victor’s body from their earlier tryst had left Victor every bit as slick as he’d been this morning. Combined with the lube, Victor opened up easily for him. Victor a groaned a little as he settled himself down to the hilt, thighs flush with Yuuri’s, cock lifting the front of the skirt. The panties were stretched indecently between his legs.
Yuuri guided Victor to lean forward against him, chest to chest, and he redirected his attention back onto the movie. Yuuri rubbed small circles into Victor’s back as they watched. It was bliss, sitting there, savoring the feeling of Victor’s body twitching around him, so hot and tight and delicious around his cock. Victor was almost limp, like a blanket over Yuuri’s body, the lace scratchy against his skin.
Every inch of him felt covered by Victor, wrapped up in his skin and his touch.
Victor was too comfortable, Yuuri thought. He slid his hand up Victor’s thigh, and Victor didn’t stir. His eyes were closed, lost in bliss, lost in the feeling of being used for Yuuri’s pleasure. He wasn’t even hard anymore. He had softened in time.
Yuuri snuck his hand under the skirt, stroking Victor back to stiffness, listening to the breathy sounds in his ear of Victor being stirred from the feeling. He brought Victor right to the edge, and then pulled his hand away, savoring the feeling of Victor squeezing around him. His fingers would curl into the fabric of the shirt Yuuri was wearing, clench tight, then unclench, wrecked and ruined and hungry for that last push over the edge, the push that Yuuri wasn’t going to provide just yet.
Yuuri pulled back, letting Victor relax to the sounds of the movie score and dialogue. Each time, he waited until Victor had fully stilled and relaxed, growing lethargic before Yuuri stroked him again.
Yuuri leaned forward, resting his chin on Victor’s shoulder, his lips close to Victor’s ear. Silver hair was soft on his cheeks, and Yuuri smiled. He smoothed a hand along Victor’s abs. They were hard and sculpted under the soft layers of lace and cotton. He felt the flex under his fingers, but also around his cock as Victor shifted, squeezing tight around him, so hot and wet.
“You’re so full of my come, aren’t you?” Yuuri murmured, stroking “I bet you want more.” Victor hummed his agreement, holding tighter to Yuuri. “I thought so. I bet you wear that skirt because you want me to fuck you all day, at any time I want, just like the greedy little cock slut you are. Isn't that right?”
“God, Yuuri, yes, yes,” Victor huffed. Yuuri jerked him off slowly. “Yuuri, close, I’m close-”
“Do you need to come?”
“Yes, please,” Victor moaned. Yuuri could see on his face just how close Victor was getting to losing himself to the pull of his orgasm. He always pulled that little expression right before he came.
“Would you be alright if I didn’t let you?” Yuuri asked, pulling his hand away. Victor buried his face in Yuuri’s shoulder and groaned, rocking himself slightly on Yuuri’s cock. Patient, so patient, Yuuri let his hands rest on Victor’s hips, holding him in place with a light touch.
Victor let his head fall back. “I’m yours to use,” he managed. His cheeks were flushed dark, and that same shade of red colored down his neck and past the collar of the dress. From experience, Yuuri knew that heat would have traveled down Victor’s chest, painting his pectorals a lovely shade of blush.
“So you’re not completely naughty, it seems,” Yuuri murmured. He let the movie play for a few minutes before he moved, allowing Victor settle back into his role as a cocksleeve.
He lifted Victor’s hips up a little and let Victor fall, thrusting up to meet him halfway. Victor moaned, long and rich, fingers clenching tight into the shirt Yuuri wore. His whole body tightened around Yuuri, squeezing him and adding just the right edge of too much. Each thrust was slow, a seductive stroke of his cock with the rhythm of a ticking clock. Yuuri’s breath caught. He had to close his eyes. The sight of Victor was too erotic.
Reddened cheeks, lips slick with drool, eyes glazed and pupils dilated, Victor looked like he was rapidly slipping into the throes of his own arousal. He had a smile on his face and flush across his body. “Ahh, Yuuri, yes,” Victor panted.
Yuuri opened his eyes and saw Victor watching him. His eyes were sparkling. Yuuri forced his voice to be as level as possible, but there was a bit of a quaver in his tone. “I’m going to fuck you again. Keep yourself from coming and I’ll fill you up again.”
“Yuuri, this is torture,” Victor whined. He tried to pull himself up off Yuuri’s cock, but Yuuri stilled him, holding him in place while he rolled his hips.
Yuuri kissed away the shimmers of tears starting to form in the corners of Victor’s eyes. “I know, but you can do it, can’t you? Haven’t you been practicing?”
It was something Victor had been doing for just a little while now, something that had taken a lot of consistent practice of a prolonged period of time. It was a way for Victor to keep up with Yuuri’s endless stamina. It was possible, with a bit of effort, to separate orgasm from ejaculation.
Victor nodded slowly. As soon as Yuuri let his hips go, his eyes closed and his body rose, pulling almost all the way off Yuuri’s cock. He started to bob up and down, riding Yuuri at a slow pace, relishing in the thickness of Yuuri inside him before building up his speed, chasing after the pleasure of Yuuri fucking up into his body. Yuuri held on. He was content to let Victor do the heavy lifting for a little while, slamming his hips up with each thrust and watching the flutter of Victor’s eyelids when Yuuri’s cock slammed home.
“So good,” Victor moaned.
“Victor, Victor,” Yuuri gasped. His head fell back. Victor braced himself against Yuuri’s shoulders and pushed himself a little harder, his body so hot and wet, looser than usual from being held open for so long by the plug.
Victor chased the feeling of fullness like a drug, rasping out a huff of air with each shift of his body. “Yuuri,” Victor cried out. Yuuri shifted beneath him and slammed his hips up. Victor’s head fell back. He wore his rapture the way he wore the dress, like an impeccably-fitted second skin.
The spill of slick trickled out with each thrust, pooling sloppily on their thighs. It was a dripping white mess of lube, come, and precome. Victor’s cock was shamelessly staining the dress, a wet spot shining over the tip of his achingly hard erection. Victor was close, so close. Yuuri could see it on his cheeks, in the flutter of his eyelashes.
“If you come, you’re sleeping on the couch,” Yuuri breathed. He jerked Victor off, timing each pull to another roll of his hips.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Victor cried. His whole body clenched and jerked. Victor grabbed his cock as his orgasm rolled over him, his insides milking Yuuri’s length and begging to be filled again. His fingers held tight to his cock and the muscles writhed around Yuuri. Victor let out something between a sob and moan.
There was nothing but the bit of precome clinging to the head of his cock.
“That was so good,” Yuuri said. Yuuri fucked him through his orgasm, panting praises into his ear. “So good, my beautiful Victor, fuck, ahh, so good for me, such a sweet little slut for my cock, isn’t that right?”
“Aaahh, yes, Yuuri,” Victor moaned. “I’m yours, I’m your slut, just for you.”
Yuuri suddenly hoisted Victor up off his cock, a little rush of slick pouring out of him and down his legs. Victor was too surprised to react. The mix of shock and arousal on his face was almost more than Yuuri could bear.
He pushed Victor to the side, tipping him off Yuuri’s lap and into the sofa. He ended up his knees, ass in the air, sprawled over the back of the couch. Yuuri could see the steady trickle running out of Victor’s ass, the hole fluttering and empty.
Yuuri brushed the skirt up. The globes of Victor’s ass were slightly spread from the way his legs were pulled apart. Yuuri touched the puckered pink hole with his thumb and Victor hissed. “Look at how open and sensitive you are. How well fucked you’ve been already today. Do you want more?”
“Yuuuuuriii,” Victor groaned.
Yuuri swatted his ass. It wasn’t too hard, but it left a satisfying pink stain on his skin. “Is that how you address your master, my pretty little slut? My precious Victor?” Yuuri slid his hand over the smooth skin.
“Master… Master Yuuri, please. Fuck me?”
If it had been anyone else, it wouldn’t have caught Yuuri so much by surprise. Yuuri himself said those same two words on many occasions. But Victor had always been the kind of man to unironically call it making love.
Yuuri shoved his pants all the way down to his knees and pushed Victor solidly against the back of the couch. Ass up, Victor presented the perfect mesh of lewd sprawl and innocent lace and ruffles. His thighs were tacky with the mess, the upper edges of the stockings soiled. He was perfectly irresistible, wagging his ass with a tired, happy grin.
Yuuri loved him. He loved this man so much, this crazy man with bows in his hair, dressed up in stockings and heels, a little sweaty from cleaning in an entirely unsuitable dress while Yuuri tormented him with a vibrator.
Yuuri gently bit into the meat of Victor’s left asscheek, right over the pink mark he’d left from the little slap. He smoothed it over with his tongue. “Mine,” he murmured. “You’re all mine.”
Yuuri rose up behind him, giving his cock with a few strokes to keep it at full attention. Victor twitched at the feeling of Yuuri laying his cock against the cleft of his ass, but Yuuri held his hips still with soothing little hushing noises.
He pushed in. Victor shuddered around him, overstimulated from his orgasm and still burning with the need to come. Yuuri didn’t give him time to adjust. He rocked out and slammed home immediately, filling Victor completely and cruelly taking it all away once more. Victor was so responsive like this, so beautiful and made to take Yuuri’s cock just like this.
It was hard and fast and so very messy, but Victor was rocking back into every thrust and moaning with the enthusiasm of a well-paid pornstar. Yuuri nailed Victor against the couch, each thrust building upon the last.
It was a symphony, Victor’s moans of Yuuri’s name, the couch creaking with each thrust, the wet slapping of skin striking skin. He fell into the rhythm of that song, letting it swell with the sound of their harsh breaths, until he felt his own orgasm creeping up on him. He was close, so close, right on the cusp of losing himself. His thrusts stuttered. He ground his hips in, burying himself as deep inside as he could get and he let himself go with a breathy gasp.
Yuuri panted into Victor’s neck, his praises almost incoherent. He didn’t pull out until he had the plug back in hand. He withdrew slowly, watching Victor twitch and flex with the emptiness. Yuuri pushed the plug back inside once more. Victor let out a happy little sigh.
On slightly shaky legs, Yuuri stumbled back onto his feet. The leather couch was a mess, streaked with the evidence of what they'd done. “You're making a mess, Victor,” Yuuri said. He was still a little short on breath. “You're very good at sucking cock, but you're not a very good maid, are you?”
“Why did you hire me then? Maybe if my master didn't love to tease me so much, I wouldn't make messes,” Victor panted back. He gave his hips a sassy wag.
Yuuri spanked him again. Victor’s cheeks, both the ones on his face and on his rear, were pinked. “So insolent, aren't you, my love? And such a mess. How are you supposed to clean like this?”
“Mmm, that would be your fault, Master Yuuri.”
Yuuri spanked him again, and Victor’s body jerked with the strike. Victor let out a little moan, rubbing himself against the back of the couch. “And here you are, making an even bigger mess than we started with.”
“We’ll just have to finish this elsewhere, then, won't we?” Victor said with a sly grin. Victor eased himself back. He tried to stand, but his legs were as shaky as a newborn colt. Two rounds of very enthusiastic sex coupled with his aching arousal, and it was too much for Victor. He fell to his knees on the couch again with an irritated huff. He tried again with similar results.
Yuuri lifted an eyebrow. “Look at you, so tired from cleaning and taking Masters cock that you can't even stand up properly. Do I need to carry you to my bed?” Victor visibly shivered. “I'll take that as a yes. Grab my phone.”
Yuuri scooped up Victor into his arms. Victor wasn't exactly light, but Yuuri was high on the feeling of having Victor like this in his arms. Victor snuggled against him, kissing his throat and jaw and whatever else he could reach. Yuuri stepped out of his pants and carried Victor to the bedroom, tossing Victor onto the bed.
Victor laid back, a vision in black and white on the bed sheets. He looked exhausted. His cock looked sorely neglected like this, straining and desperately hard, blue-balled several times over today, and yet Victor barely had the strength to lift his head. Victor dropped the phone onto the bed beside him.
“Look at you, my sweet little maid, working so hard for me all day,” Yuuri murmured. He crawled between Victor’s legs, kissing the messy span of his thighs.
“Always for you,” Victor replied. His eyes fluttered shut. Yuuri pushed the skirt up fully out of the way. “Anything you want.”
Yuuri laid his cheek against Victor’s thigh. “I want you forever. But you were bad, Victor, making that mess on the couch. What am I to do about that?”
Victor let out a small laugh. “No idea, Yuuuurii,” he said, fluttering his eyes. “What are you going to do?”
Yuuri smirked. He rolled Victor over, moving faster than Victor could retaliate, until Victor was on his stomach, the panties stretched taut between his legs, held up only by the garter betl clipped to the stockings. Yuuri unclipped them one at a time. With each one, he refastened them after he had freed the panties from them. Victor played along with a coy little smile, lifting each leg in turn so Yuuri could pull the lacy thing off him and send it flying across the room, landing in a little puddle of black lace.
Yuuri sat beside him on the bed. “First, I'm going to remind you how a maid is supposed to behave. Then I'm going to ride you until I come again. Then, and only then, will I decide if you're allowed to come tonight.” He patted his lap. “Come on, lay here.”
“Is that so?” Victor purred. He rolled onto his knees. He looked a little shaky still, his cock rucking up the short front of the dress. It exposed the entire underside of his cock and his balls, heavy and full and fit to burst with need.
“And how does a maid behave?” Victor asked.
Yuuri beckoned Victor to come closer. “First, a maid would do what his master says. You’re usually so good about that. But if a master tells you to lay on his knees, a maid shouldn’t hesitate unless he wants to be punished.”
Victor pressed a finger to his lips, the corners of his mouth crooking upward. “Oh, is that right?” Yuuri held up a single finger. “What’s that for?” Yuuri held up another finger.
“The number of extra spanks you’re earning by waiting there.” He held up a third. Victor sprawled forward onto Yuuri’s lap.
“Aaaah, Yuuri, you’re so mean to me,” Victor said. Yuuri kicked the vibrating plug on with a touch of his phone and Victor made a sputtering noise. He let out a prolonged groan, rutting a little up against Yuuri’s leg.
Yuuri smiled tightly. “What did I say, Victor? Come on, I’ll help you.. Your earlier misdemeanor earned you 10, I’d say. Plus three for testing my patience. Count them for me, and address me properly each time you do.”
Yuuri rested his palm lightly on Victor’s messy thighs. Victor tensed, waiting, his breath bated. Yuuri let his fingers play lightly over the top of the skirt. He slid the fabric up, exposing Victor’s pale ass. He waited, trying to reign in his own eagerness, smoothing his palm over the skin. He let Victor relax into it, the way Victor had relaxed in Yuuri’s lap during the movie. Without warning, he brought the flat of his hand down onto Victor’s skin.
“One,” Victor yelped in surprise.
“One, Master Yuuri,” Victor panted. Yuuri stroked the skin, studying the little pink flush staining the skin. One little swat, and Victor was already rutting his hips against Yuuri’s leg, rubbing himself against the friction of the dress front. It was damp with precome.
Yuuri brought his hand down again, a little harder this time. Victor was better prepared for the sting, though his voice quivered when he choked out a strangled, “Two, Master Yuuri.”
“Good,” Yuuri murmured. He stroked the skin. It was warm under his fingers. He struck again without warning, then a fourth and a fifth, letting Victor count them out. The shakiness of Victor’s voice only worsened with each successive strike. Victor’s trimmed nails dug into the meat of Yuuri’s leg. The vice-like grip tightened with every strike, before slowly loosening, as though letting go was an action only done through sheer force of will.
“Eleven, Master,” Victor gasped when the hand came down. “Please, please, I need-” Yuuri hushed him gently and stroked his backside, swiping away the desperate tears with his free hand. Victor was like a dog, hopelessly humping Yuuri’s leg between swats. Whatever sort of friction he could find, he would take. Yuuri held him still for his twelfth.
Victor sighed deeply after the last ringing sound of skin striking skin. “Thirteen, Master Yuuri.”
Yuuri’s hand was as red as Victor’s beaten skin, deliciously flushed and bright. The sting sang sweetly. Yuuri could almost make out handprints in the strikes.
Victor shifted in yuuri’s lap, sliding down so his knees rested on the floor. He took Yuuri’s hand into his own. With a gentle touch he pressed his lips to the palm, nuzzling against it. Victor kissed the skin, feathering little whisper-soft touches along the lines inset in the palm, along each finger, and a final kiss to each fingertip.
Victor let his cheek rest against it. “It's so warm,” he murmured.
Yuuri stroked his thumb over Victor’s cheek. He leaned forward and left a soft kiss of his own against Victor's temple.
As much as Victor whined about his ‘receding hairline’, Yuuri kind of liked Victor’s massive landing strip of a forehead. More space to kiss. “You’ve been very good for me. Have you learned your lesson?” Victor nodded. “Good. Lay back on the bed now,” Yuuri said.
Yuuri helped Victor off his knees and onto his back on the bed, Yuuri straddling his stomach. Victor winced at the pressure on his stinging derrière. Yuuri peppered the forehead with more kisses. Through it all, Victor refused to let his hand go. The smile was impossible to wipe fully off Yuuri’s face. His lips met the span where their hands joined, leaving little pecks against the knuckles, until he’d kissed their intertwined fingers completely over.
Yuuri gave his cock a few soft strokes. His refractory period, according to Victor, was nothing short of legendary. Already, he was getting hard again. Yuuri reached behind him and gave Victor a few experimental strokes as well, circling his fingers loosely around the length and pumping until Victor was lax on the bed, sighing happily.
Yuuri loved fucking Victor. He loved to watch Victor come undone beneath him, watch pleasure bloom like roses over his cheeks, see the blush travel down his chest as he inched closer and closer to release. He loved treating Victor with the respect he deserved, lavishing Victor with the love Yuuri would always show but so rarely say aloud.
But there was nothing in the world Yuuri liked better than laying Victor back and riding him again and again until Yuuri found himself fully satisfied.
He leaned over Victor, reaching for the lube they kept so conveniently sitting on the bedside table. He slicked his fingers up quickly. He felt impatient now, a little hurried, and he reached around himself, sliding a finger inside without much emotional preparation. Yuuri bit his lip, savoring the feeling of his body squeezing so tightly around his finger. He let himself adjust fully and continued preparing himself under Victor’s lustful, half-lidded gaze.
“Like the show?” Yuuri murmured.
“How could anyone not?” Victor replied. His voice was filthy and husky, a little scratchy from moaning all day, just soft enough to suggest sin even in the most innocent words. “My master is so beautiful. The way he moves is like music. Anyone would be entranced.”
“Are you?” Yuuri slipped another finger inside, scissoring himself open. Yuuri let his head fall back, an indulgent moan slipping out. God, if this was how good it felt to open himself up now, itching for Victor inside, how badly must Victor need it right now?
“You know I am always entranced by you. Always, my lovely master. As if I could ever look away,” Victor said. Yuuri pulled his fingers out, satisfied with the state he was in. He couldn’t bear to wait any longer. He slicked up Victor’s cock a bit and wiped his fingers off, then turned to Victor.
“Hands above your head. No touching,” Yuuri said firmly.
Victor whined protests, but Yuuri cut them off with a kiss. “Right now, I just need your cock in me.” He slid his knees back, lowering himself down onto Victor’s cock and watching carefully as Victor’s face went slack, his eyes rolling back, lashes fluttering. Yuuri shuddered around it as the swell of the head pushed inside him, thick and blunt and perfect. Victor tried to shift, but Yuuri held him down by his wrists, finishing the slow descent with a drawn-out grown.
He settled with it fully inside him, taking deep breaths. Victor fidgeted beneath him. Yuuri snagged his phone and twitched up the intensity on the vibrator. Victor writhed, and it did the most terribly wonderful things to Yuuri’s insides. He rocked up, sliding almost entirely off before letting himself hilt Victor’s cock. He started slow, but picked up speed.
Victor was too exhausted to keep his squirming up for long. After a few bobs on his cock, Yuuri saw Victor start to slow. He laid back, and Yuuri pushed himself faster. “Aaah, Yuuri,” Victor moaned so sweetly.
Yuuri reached back. He tapped the base of the plug with his fingers, listening for the shocked cry as it shifted. Victor didn’t disappoint. He looked like he was right on the edge. Yuuri slowed, but he kept his hand slicking over his cock, keeping his momentum high even when he was letting Victor cool off. It wouldn’t do for him to spill too soon. Yuuri still wanted his fun.
Only when Victor was back to himself did Yuuri move again, fucking himself hard and fast on Victor’s cock. He tilted his body. Victor was like a toy like this, a docile little thing for Yuuri to use, something Yuuri could pose and ride until he found his release.
It was delicious, the thought of bouncing on Victor’s cock while the little vibe buzzed away. Victor seemed so overwhelmed he couldn’t see straight. The knuckles of his hands were white from clenching in the bedsheets, twisting them between his fingers. His head fell back, and Yuuri could see the full expanse of his neck, save what was covered by the ribbon choker.
His adam’s apple bobbed around the ribbon when he swallowed.
Victor looked like the money shot picture in an explicit visual novel. He was lost in his own pleasure, moaning and grinning and crying out Yuuri’s name like it was the only thing he knew. His limbs were a sprawl around him, his knees turned out to cradle Yuuri’s body. Even his toes were curling. And all around him, splayed out in a corona of lace and ribbon, the dress was indecently rucked up to his stomach, the skirt in a sexed-up disarray around him.
He was beautiful, and he was all Yuuri’s.
Yuuri could tilt his hips so every sweet slide of Victor’s cock inside him could get a little bit closer to his prostate, angling his body until every thrust of Victor inside him sent stars of pleasure through him as the sweet spot inside him was tortuously stimulated.
Yuuri rode Victor until he felt his orgasm build. He slicked his hand over his cock, riding Victor through the orgasm. The spurts of come landed messily across Victor’s chest, painting the bodice with sloppy white stripes.
Victor was a mess. “Please, Master Yuuri, please- so close- can I? Let me-” Yuuri ground his hips down, moaning openly. He felt so oversensitive, and it was so much and yet still not enough.
“Yes,” Yuuri gasped. He rose up again and let himself go down hard, slamming deep against his twitching insides. His body protested, his thighs were aching and screaming, but the flesh was weak. Yuuri needed this like a drug. “Come in me,” he said. He was breathless and lightheaded. “Come in me, Victor.”
Yuuri fumbled blindly for his phone, forcing his eyes open long enough to set the vibrator to its highest level just as Yuuri sank down, the deepest yet. Victor came with a strangled wail. Yuuri could feel it inside him, the spurts of Victor finally letting go. It went on for so long, Victor’s orgasm running past its usual natural conclusion, and Victor writhed.
When it stopped, there was no movement. No sound, save for the buzzing of the vibrator and their breath rushing past their lips. Yuuri was stooped over Victor, not moving even as the cock started to soften inside him.
“You’re impossible,” Victor groaned, looking between Yuuri’s legs.
Yuuri groaned. He was already halfway to hard again. “I’m sorry, one more time, please-” Victor had barely nodded before Yuuri kissed him hungrily. “Fuck, Victor, yes.” Yuuri jerked himself off as he rose off Victor’s cock and onto his knees between Victor’s legs A little shiver raced up his spine at the empty feeling, the warm drip of Victor’s release starting to leak out of him.
Yuuri pushed Victor’s hips up, letting Victor rest his legs on Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri didn’t wait at all this time, jerking the plug out without a care and thrusting in, burying his cock inside and fuck Victor one last time with a desperate urgency.
“One more time,” he panted. “Just one, I’m sorry, I want… I need…”
Victor’s body rocked across the bed with each thrust. The low sound coming from his chest fluttered with each thrust, a staccato rhythm of moans that matched Yuuri’s hips slamming into him. Victor was so perfect.
His body was a dream around Yuuri. It took longer than the previous times, but Victor was so damned amazing around him, his body loose and come-slicked, so hot and wet for Yuuri. Each thrust sent Yuuri’s come spilling out of Victor’s body, but also sent Victor’s come spilling down the backs of Yuuri’s own thighs.
Yuuri was exhausted. Fuck, it was such a work out. His hips were screaming, and yet Yuuri needed more, needed to be buried deep in Victor’s messy, slutty hole one more time.
“My pretty little Victor,” Yuuri panted. “Such a slut for my cock. Did you like being full of my come all day?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Victor moaned. “Fuck, more, faster, now-” Yuuri cut him off with a kiss and a harsh slam against where he suspected Victor’s prostate to be. Victor jerked, crying out, “Oh fuck-”
“My little cumslut, my precious little Victor,” Yuuri babbled. He couldn’t think, didn’t know his own name, but he knew Victor’s body and he knew how much it wanted more. Yuuri bent Victor’s legs until they were nearly flat to his chest and slammed his hips down. Victor’s little yelp was like music. “So needy for cock, so naughty and desperate for Master to fuck him. A little toy for Master to amuse himself with. Ah, fuck, fuck, so good, you’re so loose and well fucked, Victor- I’m going to- fuck, fuck, aaah!” Yuuri cried out as it rushed over him at last.
Yuuri collapsed on top of Victor, panting hard. For a long time, neither of them moved, content to grow sticky in each other’s arms. After a moment, Yuuri stirred.
“Wow,” Victor said, bright despite the tired edge in his voice. He was smiling at Yuuri. His head flopped back.
Yuuri made himself sit up. “I… I’ll grab something to clean us up.” He stumbled from the room, managing to make it all the way to the kitchen before the mortification hit. “Oh my god.” He buried his face in his hands. Makkachin wagged her tail at him, looking as happy as a dog could be considering the circumstances. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I said all that. What was I even thinking-”
“Yuuuurriiii,” came Victor’s voice, drifting airily from the bedroom. “You’d better not be second-guessing yourself.”
“I’m not! Just… can’t find the towels,” Yuuri sputtered, scrambling through drawers to find a few hand towels. He dampened them and hurried back. He couldn’t look Victor in the eye. He focused his eyes on Victor’s thighs, studiously scrubbing them clean until the skin underneath was pinked and fresh.
“Yuuuurrrriii. Yuuri.” Yuuri scrubbed a little harder than necessary. He had to clean Victor up. He had to make this better. Maybe Victor would forget-
Victor tilted Yuuri’s chin up.
“I know what you’re doing, Yuuri, and it isn’t going to work this time.”
Yuuri looked him in the eye. “I’m cleaning you up,” he said.
Victor didn’t look amused. If anything, he looked deadly serious, and the look seemed so unfitting on his face. It seemed odd for there to be anything but a smile there. “Yuuri, you enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?”
Yuuri didn’t answer. His actions spoke for themselves. “I let myself get carried away. It’s my fault, Victor. I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll try and tone it back-”
“What? Yuuri, no, I loved it! I loved every second! Okay, maybe I didn’t like scrubbing out the tub in this stupid dress, but fuck, it was so hot when you turned the vibrator on even though you were so far away, it was torture, Yuuri. I can’t believe you went shopping and left me!”
“I’m sorry?” Yuuri mumbled, almost speechless.
“Don’t be sorry! It was amazing, Yuuri! Wow! It was like you were there even when you weren’t, if that makes any sense?” Victor said. The guileless grin was back on his face. He looked like an excitable puppy dressed in bows.
“Oh.” Yuuri blinked. “So… You would want to do this again?”
Victor burst into laughter, tugging Yuuri on top of him. Their legs tangled and Yuuri shuddered at the mess they were making of the sheets. Victor winced in pain. “We should definitely do it again. Just… maybe not when I have to skate tomorrow. Ahh, Yakov will be mad. I don’t think we’ll make practice tomorrow. We got so rough that I can’t get out of this bed and your legs are shaking.”
Yuuri looked at his legs and saw them quivering. He hadn’t even noticed. But the soreness in them was undeniable, and his body ached with that deep, sleepy sort of satisfaction that always came after a few enthusiastic rounds in bed. He’d be sore in the morning. Exhausted, most likely. Their sex life was a bit sordid and consistently active, but even so, they tended to be achy when things turned into a marathon. Even being physically fit didn’t mean they could hold out forever.
He sighed. “This was your idea, so you can call Yakov and tell him we're taking tomorrow off too. I'm sure he'll be thrilled,” Yuuri said tiredly.
Victor looked like was going to protest, until he thought better of it. He hummed, reaching for his own phone. His eyes flashed with mischief. “Mm, Yuuri, who’s wearing the dress next time?”
“Not me, unless you find a damned good cleaner,” Yuuri said. He swiped a finger across a cumstain. “Sorry, Victor. I love you, but I’m not wearing this after I came all over you when you were wearing it.”
“My shoulders and waist are broader than yours. It wouldn’t fit you anyway,” Victor said crisply. He winked. “That’s why you’ve got your own.”