#celia x reader

Ren (btd2) :3

Primal play, obvi

Chases you around the house, tries to corner you in the basement, because of all the “fun toys” down there (only a few are fun for you lol)

He’s gonna bite, scratch, make you bleed, and cuddle you later, admiring any marks he left

He’s a verse, so it really depends on whether you’re behaving and his mood

Subby him is very cute

Tug on his ears, tail, he doesn’t even try to hide how much he enjoys being your “pet”

I’d like to think he makes lil fox noises when he’s overstimulated; little yips which he toooootally won’t find embarrassing until later

Yes, he has a knot

Yes, you’re getting that every time

Yes, I think he’s got the prettiest dick of all of Gatobob’s characters– WHAT ABOUT IT

Bro WILL put you in a maid's dress

He’ll also wear one for you if you ask ;3

He’s the sweetest and gives the best aftercare, always murmuring praises and apologies, even if injuries are “for your own good.”

Loves when you call him baby boy

Gets pouty if you call him puppy

"I'm a fox! >:3" which is true lol

Ride him until he cums inside a few times, though, and he won't care WHAT you call him

He's a big fan of overstimulation, mostly on him

Especially if you're "punishing him," he wants you to use his dick until he's shooting blanks

His dick gets really flushed when he's excited; towards the tip, this rosy red, glistening with thick precum

Fav position is mating press, it gets him going like nothing else

He will fold you for hours, just hitting your sweet spot over and over until he's "bred" you enough

Lawrence

I don’t see sex with Lawrence being super often, once a week TOPS for this man

I wouldn’t say ace spectrum, just low sex drive vibes

But when he gets down, he’s a FREAK

I think a verse that leans towards dominant, but likes to be on top

Def has a thing for choking; takes it too far half the time

He “likes when you stop breathing”....okay, weirdoooo

Gets a little mean when he’s about to cum, but then whimpers like a bitch :D

“Shit— fuckin…stay still…st–stay still! *puts his hands around your throat, a scowl painted across his face, before leaning down to moan into the pillow next to your head*”

Sometimes he will want you to roleplay as a corpse, which, if you’re down for that yay, if not I don’t think he’d push it too much

He is into somnophilia, though, specifically with you being the one sleeping/pretending

Prefers receiving head to giving; he finds giving anxiety-inducing lol

He's kinda bad at it anyway (both sucking dick and eating cunt), fucking loser...God, I love him for it...

He has cried exactly once during sex...you still don't know why, but he gets mad if you bring it up

Seldom lets you shower with him, scary ass hoe, but if you get in there, he is super shy

You can get away with doing a little reach-around action and jerk him off from behind

His tall ass starts shaking when you pull that

Honestly, in any position where he doesn't make eye contact, he gets a lot more expressive

Strade

Sex all the time, whether you want it or not, you’re lucky he even kept you

Tops almost always

Obviously a sadist, hardcore

You have to beg him not to fuck your wounds half the time

If you shower, you honestly have to prep to wash up twice cuz he’s gonna fuck you against the wall

At least he can’t dunk your head under water

Threesomes with ren all the time mwahaha

Softer in the morning sex, so best to try and drain him then

He’ll often let you ride him at times like those, or he’ll spoon you and fuck you from behind

Likes to watch you and Ren fuck, plain and simple

I think he’s a huge fan of giving and receiving head

To get him in a mood? Suck him off nice and slow, but gag a ton and breathe as little as possible

If he’s in a good mood? He’ll eat/suck the FUCK out of you. Over and over until you’re shaking, and even then, he might end up fucking you roughly

But sometimes he just gives head and admires your reactions

If ur afab...PERIOD AH PERIOD UH (aka period sex, it turns him on so much it's gross)

Probably gonna piss on you at some point, better than in u tho

Derek

Going off of the “Derek took you home” ending mwahaha

You’re getting fucked EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

You’re always gonna be subbing even if he yanks your ass on top and makes you ride him

Raw. Next question

Aka, if you’re afab, he gave you an IUD with that tracker.

“Like I’ll let some useless whore ruin my life with a kid!”

He almost always wants you begging, even if you’re enjoying it, you'd better act like you’re in pain or he’s gonna make it hurt

Sadistic af, you’re almost always bleeding

An upside is he does like to watch you cum, so you’ll finish most of the time

Seeing you lose it gives him an ego boost, like even if you hate him, he’s still making you cum, so boom double fun

Also, he can be really soft from time to time when he’s tired from work

Exhaustion from his dad can either lead to the beating of your life, or Derek's version of love…kinda

When he’s tired and feeling attached to you, he’ll just make you blow him and then cuddle him and order alcohol for you both

He says he loves you a lot when he's wasted, and might even cry to you about how much he needs you while fucking you terribly

He'll beat you if you bring it up, tho, so don't say nothin

Probably has a thing for public sex, too

He'll take you to parties, the casino, anywhere really, and fuck you right in front of everyone

Mason

Two words. Size. Difference.

Assuming you’re not the same size as him at least erm sorry for those over 6’5

He’s got a thing for chasing you down and fucking you in the woods, as we’ve seen

Sometimes he’ll switch it up and haul you back to the cabin to fuck the shit out of you; man is proud with the “meat” he brought back

Speaking of meat…HHEHEHEHEHE

He’s average length wise but THICK as fuck

You stretch painfully every time he fucks you because he almost always rushes into it

More “animalistic” if he just puts it in rather than prepping you, he says

Rips clothes like it is nobody's business

Secretly gets off on how his clothes swamp you and make you smell like him

Aftercare is actually pretty good here ("Ooooo this is noiceeee! Gurllllll")

Always gives you hearty food and water after, tea if it's cold outside

The morning after he cooks something especially reguvinating so you have your strength for more hunts ;) and cuz he liiiiikes you hehe

Cockwarms almost always after cumming in you

He has walked back to the cabin, carrying you with his dick inside you, because he didn't wanna pull out

You're still getting hunted in the winter btw, that will not end unfortunately

He will always give you a nice warm bath and cuddles after, though, so you don't get frostbite

He's a strong ass man, so he fucks you standing often

Either that or from behind, he's not the biggest fan of missionary but if you beg enough he'll do it

Ceilia

MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY

Can y’all tell she’s one of my favs…hehe

She is always dominant, even if you’re on top you are in absolutely NO control

Especially if you’re a man/masc presenting, she’s gonna love making you her bitch (WE LOVE OUR CANONICAL MISANGRIST)

Don’t worry, girlies! She will still gonna crush you <3

She’ll step on you in the fiercest pair of stilettos and then coo that you’re her “pretty little pet”

Let’s be honest she’s gonna make you paint her toenails (the color of your eyes if she’s feeling sappy), and after it dries she’ll have you massage and suck each one

Not full-on foot fetish, she just likes feeling above you

If you’re good she’ll let you suck her tits

If you’re bad you aint touchin her for a WEEK

Unless it’s to eat her out but even then maybe not

You're getting the strap no matter your gender

The one she uses will usually be a pristine, clear, 6 inch dildo, but she has MANY others

Same with toys; vibrators, wands/rabbits, butt plugs, etc

Back to my first point, she'll make you call her mommy

Or ma'am, but mostly mommy

If you have a dick, expect CBT

Less likely to have your puss tormented if you have one, but don't push it

Domestic sex is not frequent, but if you're in that ending where you run away together, sometimes, if she wakes up after a good night's rest, coffee and breakfast made, it'll be nice, slow, and loving

Edit : I can’t believe I forgot to add my ending gift but here we go ITS LITTLE RENNNN

While she isn't able to make alcoholic drinks, she's always down to make a delicious mocktail. Quietly whispering to you which ingredients to use so it turns out perfect for them.

Seeing your younger sibling compliment how pretty her bar is (the different glass containers sparkle in the light), or how yummy the mocktail she helped you make always brightens her day.

Holds nothing but respect for you, taking care of a kid is hard if she's read anything about it. It's admirable to her how much effort you put into making sure your sibling is happy, even if it means hard work for you.

If she could actually meet your siblings, she would absolutely show them how to do cool tricks with shakers and have them try all the mocktails she knows how to make

The two seem pretty neutral on your younger sibling at first, but as time progresses it's easy to tell they love them.

When you apologize to Florence for your sibling running and stomping on her so much she just brushes it aside, saying it's fine and if anything it feels like a little massage.

Celia is a little hard to read, but through slip ups during conversations you get the hint that she thinks your sibling is a little darling.

Both of them think they're adorable, and ask you about their life outside of the house/before they came to live with you. Always they ask about how their day at school was, or how your day out with them were, asking if there's anything they could do to help you.

They love seeing you spend time with your younger sibling, even if it's just cuddling up on the couch and watching TV. That sibling bond isn't something they've ever had, and it's so adorable to them.

If they were ever able to meet your sibling, Florence would be all over them, picking them up and carrying them around sometimes. Celia would be a little less hands on, but would absolutely hold the kids hand if they asked nicely.

Neither of them would mind if the kid were to barge into the office, much like they don't mind when you do.

Dasha absolutely adores the little bugger! She thinks they are so cute, and tells you as much when she sees you!

Watches as they sit with you as you work and praises them for being so well behaved, even though they can't hear her.

When she finds out you'll be the only one watching over them, she worries for your health a little. You already take care of all the objects, are you sure a human child would be okay? But her fears are quickly put to rest after seeing how well you treat them. And how happy they make you.

She doesn't have any siblings, so she can't relate, but every time it's just your sibling in the office she can't help but worry and watch over them to make sure nothing happens. When you come back you can see her hovering just behind the kid and panicking as they play with scissors.

If she ever met your sibling, it would be a giggle fest. Her picking them up and probably never letting them go, swinging them around gently and pretending to lift them light a weight. Their happy giggles make her smile brightly.

It's no surprise to anyone that Dunk absolutely loves your younger sibling! When he found out they'd be coming to live with you he was already ecstatic for a new buddy to be around the house, even if he can't talk to them.

But the enthusiasm they showed over all the sports equipment you had? Over him? Oh he was practically jumping up and down.

He's absolutely convincing you to go out to the backyard and play ball with them, any ball! Just go and have fun with them! Let him join in on all that loving family memories.

When he watches at you and your sibling play catch, he can't help but think back to his childhood, and the way how he never got to smile like that with any of his family. It makes him really happy.

If he were to ever meet your sibling, he would spend the entire time playing games with them. Any game they want! Ball? Catch? Tag? He's down! Even silly ones like pretending to be superheroes he'd be happy to participate in, just to see them smile brightly- and in turn you smile as well.

Skylar is a little sceptical about the whole thing. I mean, what if they accidentally break an object or hurt themselves on an object? What if they get their hands on her?!

Turns out she's got nothing to worry about, as it's quick for everyone to learn how well behaved a kid they are. And suddenly all you hear from her is how cute your sibling is!

She's one of the few objects that sees your sibling the most, seeing as you almost always have her with you- on or off doesn't matter- which means she gets to see a lot of your interactions.

The bravery she sees you have with them is something that assured her you're a good person, watching you make little sacrifices a lot of people wouldn't even notice for their sake. When she tries bringing it up to you, you simply turn down her efforts and tell her you'd do it a million times over for them.

If she ever does meet your sibling, she's definitely doing something chill with them. Really she isn't good with kids, and probably won't ever be, but some good old chillaxin is something she can do! Sitting on the couch and watching TV or even just watching them and you play games would be something she would be happy to do.

It's a well known fact that he's had bad experiences with kids, watching his friends be ruined due to them (as well as neglect), but he trusts you to not let him suffer the same fate.

And it's trust well placed. While the kid is a bit messy, you're always on top to explain to them how to prevent said messes and how to clean everything up after- including how to properly wash any towels used for clean up.

He's never been put through the wash so many times in a month before, not that he minds the extra time in the laundry room. And it makes him feel a little fulfilled, being able to help you out so much.

When the kid first encounters his little buddy, he's a bit worried they'll accidentally mess him up, but that isn't the case at all. They handle little buddy with care, running to show you the cute towel in the shape of an animal. He's starting to like this kid.

It’s a combination of remembering where and when things are, asking yourself when this all started, and knowing that it won’t end, all the while knowing that you have to try as hard as you can to get things done. And often, it’s exhausting just keeping things going when you’re not able to move around, or even when you simply forget to do them in the first place, or when you know you have to do them but you simply can’t — because your body and mind won’t let you.

The pain, whether it’s physical, mental, and often when it’s both, can be exhausting. And you’ve made peace with it, mostly. When you’ve got no other choice, all you can do is let life come to you one day at a time.

So you forget to clean the dishes for days in a row. You leave the laundry sitting in the dryer for longer than acceptable, if you even put it in the machines at all. You let the vacuum in itself gather dust in your closet. You don’t take out the trash until it’s overflowing, until you have to force it back into the bin. And it’s a struggle, and you’re not proud of it, but you’re okay knowing you’re the only one hurt by it.

It makes it all the worse, though, when you’re delivered the package by drone to your doorstep.

When you first put on the Dateviators, in a word, you feel ashamed. Knowing that any misstep of yours actually has an impact on beings around the house, and that they see you all the while, hurts you in a way you can’t express. And even if you put the glasses away for good, you know you wouldn’t be able to forget a hurt or disappointed look on their faces.

The objects of the house see it all too well, and they have formed their own opinions as to the subject. But that doesn’t make them blind to your struggles, and that did not stop you from bringing light into their lives; each of them — in their own way — help however they can.

—— daisuke

Prideful, this man is, and someone who you knew at first sight was greatly pained whenever you would let food crust over on the dishes, unable to do anything about it — why would you disrespect him like this?

But, just as you eventually help him see the value in taking breaks for himself and pursue his hobbies instead of just focusing on work, so too does he notice your struggles; how you try your hardest when you’re able, and how quickly your energy seems to wane on days when you don’t have enough strength for it. How you seem to, in fact, avoid food entirely sometimes in your forgetting and in your shame.

‘Would you like to join me in washing the dishes?’ he asks you quietly one day, noticing the far-off look in your expression. You startle guiltily, not being able to look him in the eyes. ‘You don’t have to help me out, Daisuke. I was meaning to do it today anyway. I’m sorry for leaving you alone like that.’ ‘It is no trouble, truly.’ He pulls out two chairs, positioning them near the sink, and bids you to sit down, offering you a towel with one hand. With the other, he picks up a plate, and delicately begins to clean them, gently soaping the ceramic and running the sponge over it to clear the scraps of food you’d left behind. When he is finished, he hands it to you — not as a command, but as an invitation for you to join in. The two of you make slow, steady progress, stopping every so often to take breaks; you are both aware of how crucial rest is, and it helps you manage your energy and pain better as you make your way through the pile, one by one washing, drying, and even managing to set each dish back into the cabinets. You know that, subconsciously, you are doing it on your own and do not have someone with you, but when the charge runs out and you lift the glasses, the dishes are nonetheless clean and sparkling.

——

washford and drysdale

You worried that by letting your clothes rest in the hamper for too long, or letting them sit in the dryer, you were only feeding into the negative aspects of the two biggest relationships to be found in the laundry room; you recall with remorse times in which you forgot to collect your laundry from the machines, driving further wedges into Harper’s jealous tendencies and Washford’s brooding solitude.

But while Harper and Dirk’s relationship seems to have sprung several leaks that you don’t think you’ll ever manage to fix, you managing to get Washford and Drysdale back together has meant the world to them, and they would want to repay it in kind, especially when you are experiencing difficulties of your own.

To avoid another reprise of the Pale Betrayal, they decide to put on a show so tantalizing that you simply must watch it play out, motivating you to come back any time you need even a scrap of fabric, and giving you a tangible sign of progress past watching it disappear into the machines alone.

And if they wait for a long time in between showings, they do not mind - now that they have each other, they can perform the greatest acts anyone has ever seen, just for you.

You’re cheering from the front row, mesmerized, as the two acrobats tumble around each other, flipping and folding and wringing clothing in mid-air; Washford is suspended upside-down from a harness, holding a free-swinging Drysdale by the hands. It’s all terribly alluring, and the flying colors make it all the more worth it to have managed the trip to the laundry room today, especially when you can appreciate such a marvelous view while doing so. Washford suddenly flings Drysdale up into the air before leaping off himself, the two of them landing on the ground as gracefully as cats, and they catch all the clothing in their arms. The crowd, you included, gasp appreciatively. They continue like this for a while, At some point Drysdale is juggling mismatched socks, tossing them down to an equally juggling Washford, and still finds time to extend a hand out to the cheering audience — but pointing it in one very specific direction. ‘Are you watching, cherub? This one’s for you!’

——

henry hoove

Hoove is no stranger to sweeping things underneath the rug, and he knows that you’ve done plenty of it recently since his bag hasn’t been empty in ages, and he’s covered in the very same stuff he vacuums up. He’s not going to complain all that much — you’re not the only person who he tries to keep his feelings from — but he notices all the same.

That doesn’t mean he hasn’t picked up a few tips on how to manage, though. He’ll suggest that you work methodically on a few sections of a room together, or set a time limit for you to give it all you’ve got. And if that’s not enough, there’s always stuff in his bag to take out.

Whenever you need to take a break, he’ll be there for you, too — whether that’s through getting a drink, seeing a game, or just chatting.

You’re ten minutes late, stumbling into the laundry room and panting hard — there’s an indisputable look of self-reproach in your eyes, one that’s only tempered by the pain you’re clearly in. ‘Hah — so sorry, I’m late, Hoove. I don’t think I’m up for vacuuming today. At least not the whole of the ground floor.’ ‘Hey, no worries! At least the hardest part is over - you showed up, didn’t you? Maybe we can go over some stuff together, one room at a time. We can go as hard as we can for half an hour, too.’ And his smile is so easy, so accepting, that you agree to give it a shot, and you spend the next half hour having much more fun vacuuming up dust than you thought you would today. You only manage to do half of the ground floor, but half is better than nothing. And you beat him in a Hankees trivia contest while you’re at it.

——

florence and celia

Florence and Celia are two of the most important surfaces of your house that need cleaning in every nook and cranny -- but because they’re such large areas to work on at once, you’re often overwhelmed just looking at them, much less cleaning them.

Florence has never been mad at you for this. Rather, she’s worried for your wellbeing. All the tasks to do around the house and you still find time to sweep a silly fuddy-duddy like her? She appreciates everything you do, and her heart hurts when you’re limited from doing anything you love, not just cleaning.

Celia, by contrast, is irritated at first. as mayor of the household, she needs to keep a tight ship, and it’s hard to when you as the houseowner outrank her and spread unintentional chaos. But, like Florence, she can see how hard you do work and the lengths you go at to make it up to her and the dateables. it’s hard work being a human, and you’re doing so much already just being you.

The two of them decide the best way they can help is by telling other objects to make it as easy for you to do the housework as they can. This means minimal staining, minimal spilling, anything and everything to make it less of a chore for you.

And, as co-mayors, they can deal with enough between them to give you all the space you need to recuperate.

‘Oh, dear, are you alright?’ Florence asks, crouching down and taking your hand in hers. You nod stiffly, tears pricking at your eyes. ‘It’s just — I’m just having a worse day today than usual, I think. I’m not going to be able to help as much today as I said I would. I’m sorry, I —‘ ‘Shh.’ Now Celia’s there, too, kneeling gracefully, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. ‘Sit, and have some tea. I’ll handle things from here.’ She rises and walks out of the office to address the din; the noise of the objects outside swallows the sound of her footsteps, and you sniffle. Florence gives you a hug, her carpet cardigan brushing against your skin - it’s soft, but dusty, and you’re overcome with guilt again just feeling it. ‘Don’t you worry, okay? Why don’t I give you some extra milk and sugar?’ You rub your hand over your eyes, smiling at her gratefully. ‘I’d like that. I’m so sorry I’m not able to do more right now, Florence.’ ‘Don’t be.’ She looks at you, face soft, kind and warm and forgiving all at once. ‘You tried! You tried today. And there’s always time tomorrow for you to give it another go.’ You sit on the couch together, and sip at your tea as it warms you from the inside, and you feel better for a short while, at least.

——

cam

Cam, ever the collector, is elated at you having so much to give him, and so little to take out. It really makes for a nice hill to be king of.

But he can also see how you’re more hesitant, more apprehensive each time you come to the garbage can now, not even looking at him when you toss something his way, and that bothers him. Not because you’re not talking to him. Obviously. It’s just obvious that you’re feeling like — well, feeling like garbage.

He may not say the right thing at all times; maybe a phrase can be a little harsh, a little cutting, but you know he can be honest with you when you need to hear it. He won’t make excuses for you, but you know he’s always got your back — and a compliment from him, since it's hard-won, means the world.

‘Hey. You need to take me out.’ You flinch, scoffing once you meet his eyes again. ‘Is that some sort of flirty hint? Never pegged you as the type.’ ‘No, fizz brain. I mean put me out on the curb. The “real trash bin me”.' He doesn’t shy away from telling you these things, but in moments like this he softens the blow, his voice losing its edge. ‘If you don’t take it somewhere else, how else are you going to give me more cool shit? Can’t talk to me if I can’t hear you.’ It seems to strike a chord with you, and your shoulders slump. ‘I know. I’ve just been really distracted by everything lately. I’m going to try and do it by the end of today, if I can. Thanks for reminding me’ ‘Well, good then. Proud of ya.’ The words sound strange in his mouth, and he hastily adds, ‘Or whatever.’ And you giggle, at that, the tension dissipating — you look no less in pain, but it’s like a weight has been lifted from you at his encouragement. ‘I appreciate it.’

“Take your clothes off, pig.”

You didn't know how you'd gotten here.  

You were standing in an abandoned office, your surroundings smelling of dust and dank and mildew like it hadn’t been used for a while, dressed in a stranger's clothes, a shirt and tie and ill-fitting trousers that trailed on the ground (you were too short) and clung tightly around your waist (your hips were too big), all while a strange woman was threatening you with a taser and making you strip for her.

You remembered voices. You remembered the blurs of red and blue and the occasional flash of green, and then nothing but pain.

Your head and body were still throbbing from the jolt back to consciousness, but you swallowed tightly at the barked order, your eyes wide like a deer in the headlights and almost flinching out of your skin as you hurriedly reached down and hastily untucked your shirt from your waistband, shaking fingers fumbling with each of the delicate, little buttons after you untied your tie and tossed it aside.

Celia watched you carefully as you fumbled inelegantly with the buttons, her dark eyes narrowing scrutinously. She tapped the end of the taser against her thigh, silently threatening you if you didn’t obey her orders, her pantyhose creasing when she crossed her legs a little tighter and folded her arms over her full chest.

The gesture just made your hands shake even more, as you nervously wet your lips, your eyes on the floor.

“Stop shaking,” She ordered with a sharp frown. “And get to it. Faster.”

"Mmf," You bit your lip hard to resist a whimper, quickly moving your hands down to unbuckle your belt and pull down your trousers, your boxers damp with sweat. "S-Sorry..."

“You should be.” Celia snapped, her eyes narrowing further as she raked her gaze over your cowering form, eyeing the nervous sweat that was gathering on your trembling belly (what little she could see of it with your shirt still on), clearly relishing in just how quickly she had gotten you to obey.

That was made all the more obvious when she smirked as your trousers went down, an airy titter falling from her painted lips.

"You're disgusting, you know that. Like a cowering, sad little dog." She purred, her crossed legs bobbing idly against the desk she was atop of. "You're lucky it was me who picked you, you know. Otherwise, you wouldn't have stood a chance~"

Your jaw tensed a little at the memory (knowing that she was probably right, you wouldn't have survived whatever the other two lights had in store for you) and you stared down at the ground before stepping out of your trousers and pulling off your shoes (ugly, you would never have worn them yourself) with them.

"You look like you're trying not to piss yourself," She giggled even more, idly covering her mouth with another mean titter when your cheeks flushed a mortified red, before shaking her head, her luscious curls bouncing at the gesture. "Don't cry. It’s not fun if you break this early, and I'm easily bored."

She leaned a little closer, lowering the taser to her thigh as her fingers curled around her own chin, regarding you like a specimen under a microscope.

"Get on your knees for me."

You whimpered softly, holding onto the trailing tails of your work shirt (keeping it pinned still against your sweaty body), your eyes flicking from her smirking face and down to the taser in her lap.

You knew that you didn't have the option of arguing with her. Or, if you did, you wouldn't survive the outcome.

So, you obediently sank down to your knees for her, pressing your slick thighs together and trying your best to appear composed, as opposed to the shivering mess you felt like.

"You're better behaved than I thought you'd be." She hummed with a slight smile (though you could tell that there was a flicker of disappointment in her gaze too, maybe she had hoped to deal with a rowdy hostage). "Most men are sooooo disobedient for a powerful woman, which is so boring, you know.” Her eyes flicked over your trembling thighs, noting the way they rubbed together as you knelt. 

Her smirk growing wider, Celia then uncrossed her legs, slowly parting them a little more so she could look down at you.

“I'm…pleasantly surprised.” She said softly, smirking even more when your eyes went up, met by the rising hem of her pencil skirt and a flash of her dark panties through her pantyhose. “You just want to make me feel good, don't you? Make me happy…like a good, little dog."

"Y-Yes...ma'am," You murmured, your cheeks burning a little darker as your eyes went down again, not wanting to look, to appear disrespectful.

Celia chuckled at your chivalry, her heel lifting so that she could run the tip of her shoe under your jaw, forcing your face up so you were looking directly at her.

"Look at me," She commanded, her heel then resting against your lower lip, tilting your head up slightly further. "And don't avert your eyes again, understood? You don’t look away from a lady when she’s talking to you. It’s not polite."

"Nhhh..." You groaned softly against the toe of her heel (expensive, patent leather, much better quality than the shoes she had given you), clenching your hands between your trembling thighs, sweat soaking into your shirt as your body grew more and more hot…for whatever reason.

“You really are pathetic, aren’t you?” She teased, her smirk growing nastier as she moved her heel against your throat, pushing slightly against it and making you swallow tightly. “I’ve barely done anything, and you’re already shaking. Some kind of man you are. Hm!~”

Another chuckle escaped her painted mouth when you let out another whimper, your windpipe tightening slightly as she pressed more pressure against it. 

"Shirt off. Now."

You swallowed hard, unable to resist her order as shaking hands reached up to finish the buttons on your shirt, and shoving it from your shoulders...

Revealing your binder.

“Oh!”

Her eyes then went wide with surprise, sitting back on the desk and pulling her foot away from your throat. and they went wider still as she saw the thick, white material of your binder stretching over and binding your chest.

"How…interesting,” She murmured softly, her spread legs quickly pressing together (almost tightly, too tight to go unnoticed) as she took a firmer grip of the taser in her lap. “But…didn't you say you were a man at the auction house?" She asked, her voice growing from soft and commanding, to teasing and almost spiteful.

"I am a man," You said, your voice shivering, sounding almost like you were telling yourself, just as much as you were telling her, watching as she stood to her feet and paced closer towards you.

Celia just grinned, unexpectedly delighted as she stepped even closer, leaning down and taking a firm grip on the hem of the binder.

"Oh, this is just perfect~" She purred, pulling you into her, your knees aching as you were forced into an uncomfortable squat. "I thought I was getting some worthless, little boy at the auction house, but oh no," She let out a little titter. "I'm getting a cute, little girl instead. How wonderful for me!"

Your face went bright red and you tried to pull backwards.

"I'm not-!" You squeaked, struggling as she pulled you in again. "I'm not a girl!"

Celia’s other hand pressed the cold metal of the taser’s prongs to the underside of your chin, forcing you to look up at her again, the teasing smile never leaving her beautiful face.

“Are you sure about that?” She asked, her eyes narrowing with a cruel gleam (reminding you so clearly of the girls that used to bully you in high school) as she pressed the taser a little harder into the sensitive skin of your jaw. “Because this pretty body looks like it belongs to a girl.”

"I don't...l-look like a girl," You stammered, shivering as she took a firmer grip on your binder, the taser digging into your skin. “P-Please don’t, nh…”

“Don’t? Don’t want, hm?” Celia tilted her head slightly, her long, luscious hair falling over her shoulders, unwaveringly attractive in spite of her brutality (or maybe because of it). “Don’t call you a girl? Don’t play with you like this? But you’re making such a pretty picture right now~! So vulnerable and scared, it’s adorable!”

She giggled, her knee lightly bumping against your chest, before she shoved you back onto your ass, standing above you, her hands on her hips.

“Take your binder off. Show me the girl you really are~”

You whimpered again, biting your lip hard as your eyes started to burn, feeling the beginnings of humiliated tears starting to gather along your lashes. But, unable to argue or worm yourself out of the situation, you hesitantly reached upwards and pulled at the hem of the binder, rolling up the cotton and elastic and revealing your full chest.

You didn’t have any choice, you told yourself, staring at the taser as the tears began to run down your burning cheeks. You had no choice.

“Oh, this is just getting better and better,” She smiled, taking another step closer to you. “Look at that. It really is a shame, you know, pretty girls like you covering themselves up…pretending to be men. My heart breaks for it, truly, it does…”

You tried to inch yourself backwards, to get away from your captor, your bare body scraping along the rough carpet of the office room. But Celia just followed you until you ran out of space, trapping you in the corner of the dusty room, a smirk spreading on her face when you realised that you had nowhere else to go. 

“No running away now, sweet girl.” She smiled, before squatting down to your level. “Now stay still.”

"Mm," Your lips trembled as she slid a hand over your ankle and up your calf, almost stroking your skin admiringly.

“You do have lovely legs,” She murmured, squeezing your calf gently as she slid her hand up towards your knee. “Mm, it would be better if you shaved them though, that’ll be the first thing I make sure of. And thennn…” She drawled, settling down on her knees in front of you. “Just imagine how pretty they’re going to look, all dolled up in some silks, perhaps. Maybe some nylon, or even lace?”

"I-I don't know..." You murmured, quickly pulling your knees up to your chest, away from her touch. “I don’t…want to do that. Boys don’t do that.”

"Oh, don't give me that now," She snapped with a roll of her eyes, grabbing one of your ankles tightly, her nails digging into your soft flesh as she pinned it down against the ground. "We’ve already established that you did a pretty shitty job at trying to be a boy. Which means I get a nice blank slate to work on…mm, well, mostly blank~”

Her harsh grip relaxed slightly, turning back into slow strokes.

“Sooo, we just need to work on making that…spirit of yours a little more obedient, don’t we?” She smirked indulgently, her touch drifting up your calf and towards your thigh. "So, you’re going to say: 'Yes Mistress, that would look so pretty,’ aren’t you? Like a good, little girl.”

A deep, shameful heat was set alight in your core, making it twist and tighten painfilly, and your expression grimaced before you could stop it.

Celia’s smirk faltered slightly as she noted your face twitching, her manicured nails digging further into your thigh as she leaned into you, her face inches from your own

“You’re going to say. ‘Yes. Mistress’.” She snapped, her tone harsher than before. “Do it. Now.”

"Y-Yes...Mistress," You whispered, your voice as small as you could make it, head sinking down slightly against your chest.

“Good girl, there we go,” She praised with a smile, her grip shifting from your thigh and sliding up to the underside of your jaw, forcing your face up to hers again. “And what are you going to say next?”

"That...would look s-so pretty," You said, your head feeling more and more hot as you spoke.

“That’s much better, sweetheart. Very good.” Celia murmured. "You know...I'd gone to that auction to get some of my frustrations out. Find some...man," She said through a tight sneer. "To break down and hurt as much as I pleased, they’ve done more than enough to deserve it. Oh, but I found you instead," She smiled like a switch had been triggered in her mind, though her grip did not relent on the taser. "A sweet little thing who was just hiding from me. It's nice how things work out, isn't it?"

You were quiet as she spoke, keeping your eyes locked down on the taser at her side, before switching back to her, unable to really give her an answer to her question.

After a moment, she chuckled and rolled her eyes. 

“And you know the best thing? I know you won’t fight me on this. And you know you won’t either.” She tittered again, her hand smoothing down your chest with a little sigh, eyes narrowing with poorly concealed lust. “I know you don’t have the balls to fight me.”

You cringed at her phrasing, feeling all the more ashamed knowing that she was certainly right about you, that you wouldn’t fight her.

Even if she didn’t have the taser, you probably wouldn’t have fought her.

“Well, maybe that’s not totally the best thing,” She then murmured lowly, the hand on your chest slowly curling to cup one of your breasts, her pencil skirt now having completely ridden up and showing the waistband of her pantyhose. It was a pretty tantalising sight, even if she was insane. “Maybe, the best thing is knowing how much you’re enjoying yourself, too~”

"I...mm," You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as she touched you, a manicured fingernail idly teasing the bud of your nipple as her body inched closer to yours, forcing your legs to spread to accommodate her.

“Do you like this?” She purred, her other hand reaching down as she pressed the heel of her palm against the front of your boxers, feeling the wet heat underneath. “Ohhh, I think you do. I don’t think you really liked being a man, did you? You just felt like you had to…like so many of us girls do, just to get by in this world, hm?”

“Ngh,” You tried to shift your legs together but found your resolve to resist her weakening all the more, by the second.

“Yes, that’s it,” She murmured encouragingly, idly squeezing your flesh with both hands, teasing each bud of pure white pleasure until you were shivering desperately against her, seeking her, even if it made you feel bad afterwards. “But I hope that I’m convincing you that being a girl is a much better decision for you. Don’t you think girls are pretty, sweetheart? Don’t you think I’m pretty?”

"You're...v-very pretty," You admitted softly, your hips bucking against her palm.

“Mm, thank you, my darling, but I’m much more than just pretty. That’s your job, isn’t it? To be my pretty, little girl, and nothing else?~" Celia chuckled, suddenly pressing two fingers to the ‘gusset’ (because how else would you describe it) of your boxers, feeling the wetness at its source. "Such pretty eyes, such a pretty face…what a pity you're wasting it by pretending to be a man."

"Hhh..." You breathed out, trembling even more as she touched you, your thighs tensing either side of her and gripping the carpet in curled fists.

“Oh, I’m really going to enjoy you,” She purred, leaning in even closer so her face was only an inch away from yours, her long hair falling over and brushing your shoulders. “You’re just going to be a pretty, little doll for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

"Oh god," You murmured, your face heating up even more as you hid in your palms. "D-Don't...say something like that...hhh..."

“But it’s true,” She chuckled, her breath hot against your skin as she brought her lips to brush your jaw, her tongue darting out slightly to drag along your skin, tasting your sweat, your fear, your pure arousal. “You want to be good, you want to do as I say, and you especially want me to be happy, don’t you?”

"Nhhh..." You groaned as her tongue dragged along your jaw and down your neck.

“Now now, don’t whine,” She scolded, her tone warning and worryingly matron-like. “I didn’t give you permission to do that.”

The hand between your legs idly pulled your boxers to the side then, revealing your wet and puffy labia to the cool air of the office and letting her touch you without the barrier of moist cotton in the way, the drag of her smooth fingers feeling like heaven between your hot folds.

“Say it for me, sweet girl. Say ‘I’ll be a pretty doll for you, Mistress’.”

"F-Fuck, mm," Your brain felt like it was short circuiting as one hand reached out, desperately, to cling to her shoulder (surprised when she let you do that much), your thighs clenching on either side of her body, suddenly breathing quite hard. "I'll...nhh..."

“Come on,” She murmured, bringing her lips to your ear. “All of it, or I’m going to shock you.”

You felt your body tense up when you felt the sudden sharp press of the taser against the soft flesh of your inner thigh, your wide eyes pulling back to meet hers, only finding a coy and almost innocent expression, like she was pulling an especially mean prank on.

"I'll…”

“All of it~” She reminded you again, more pressure on the taser.

“Mm,” You breathed out a little sigh through your nose, squeezing your eyes together tightly. “I’ll…be a pretty d-doll for you, Mistress..." 

You felt a sudden blunt force against your cunt and your bloodshot eyes widened agains as you felt Celia force the taser (prong side down, thank GOD) inside of you, your cunt swallowing it hungrily in spite of the agonising force behind the firm plastic.

“Good girl,” She drawled with a smug smile, her voice thick with praise and satisfaction like artificial syrup, nuzzling her cheek against your temple. “And you’ll be the perfect doll for me, won’t you? You’ll let me dress you however I like, shape you however I like…isn’t that right, doll?”

"Uuuh huuuh," You whined, your voice pitched up and dumb and your entire body trembling as she forced the taser deeper inside you, her thumb rubbing circles around your clit as she did so, giving you something to enjoy while she invaded your insides.

"Soooo, when I say you're going to put some weight on around your butt and hips," She grinned against your cheek, pushing the taser somehow deeper inside of you (while still having a firm grip of the end of it). "And grow your hair out, so you look like a real girl again, what does my doll say?"

"Yes Mistress," You drawled, breathing hard as your head tilted back against the office wall, feeling the nonconsenting pleasure and heat of it behind your eyes. "Nnf, yes Mistress-!"

“Oh, this is just too good,” She drawled, suddenly grinding her hips against your thigh as she started to thrust the taser in and out of you, breathing hard against your skin as her hips gyrated in time with her brutal thrusts, like she was pretending to fuck you in place of it. ."S-Stick your tongue out for me, doll."

“Ahhh…”Your lips parted obediently and you stuck your tongue out for her.

Celia let out a short huff of breath, a small shiver going through her (to which she grimaced, almost as if a shiver was giving away too much vulnerability) as her own breath got hotter, before she leaned even closer and slowly licked up the side of your tongue, a perverted (fetishised) facsimile of a kiss.

"Nn, good doll..." She groaned into the messy kiss..

"Nhhh," You moaned mindlessly against her lips, as she kissed you like a woman starved of it (and maybe she was), your eyelids fluttering as your eyes crossed, your cunt clenching tightly around the length of the taser as she continued to tease your clit and oversensitive nipples, your body just growing tighter and more wanting of relief underneath hers. 

The hand on your chest dipped down and grabbed your hip, giving herself a firmer object to grind against and digging in hard enough to leave marks. Her tongue forced its way into your mouth, a hot, heavy mass of writhing muscle as she leaned against you, panting against your parted lips.

"Nn..." She managed to breathe, her voice almost desperate. "You don’t know how happy this makes me, doll. I’ve only just got you, and you’re already such a good girl...hah…”

"Mm..." You shivered, keening forward to lap at her mouth, hungry for her, any preconceived shame abandoned in the pursuit of her twisted rendition of pleasure.

“Ah-ah,” Celia breathed out a mean chuckle, pulling back from your mouth and daintily wiping a small bit of saliva from her chin, fixing her smudged lipstick. “Down, girl. You still need to behave…”

She chuckled again at the sight of your flushed, needy face, tossing her hair from her own flushed cheeks, like a model in an especially pornographic shampoo commercial. 

“You’re so cute…just makes me want to eat you up~”

You licked your lips with a dazed expression, both wanting to keen in for her and to stay still, to play the good girl she wanted you to be.

“Good girl,” She murmured (because you’d made the right choice in staying still), taking your chin between her thumb and forefinger and tugging it forward, (nudging the taser just a little deeper and making you whine for more). “You’re not used to being a girl, are you, sweetness? I can tell. You need a little guidance…but that’s alright. I’ll help you with that. I’ll help you with every step.”

She smirked, gently rubbing the drool from your bottom lip and smearing it into your skin. 

“You’ll be my new personal assistant, first of all, and you’ll help me with my day to day tasks in a cute outfit like mine…then, I’ll promote you to be my maid.” She listed with growing glee in her eyes. “With the uniform and all…oh, you’re going to look cute as a button!”

You breathed harder as the pacing of the hard thrusts picked up, staring dumbly up at her in silent agreement as you drooled, mindlessly, your head lost in pleasure.

"And then," She said, bringing her smiling face close to yours, close enough that she must have been able to feel the heat from your body, smell your sweat, just as you could smell her perfume, sweet and musky. "When you've gotten rid of my husband...I'll make you my little housewife~"

She grinned and gave your drooling lips a quick little kiss, pushing the taser to its very deepest inside of you.

Your eyes, once again, shot wide at the painful intrusion, and you cried out, tipping your head back, as you were forced into an excruciatingly tight climax, all over her fingers.