Dressed For Success
folder
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Good Charlotte
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,604
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Good Charlotte
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,604
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Good Charlotte. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Dressed For Success
Title: Dressed For Success
Author: Adelaide Elizabeth Morgan (falconkenobi@aol.com)
Author Web Page: http://www.aemslash.co.uk Obsess, Much?
Fandom: RPS - Good Charlotte/Mest
Categories: Tony Lovato/Benji Madden, PWP, Fetish/Kink
Rating: NC17
Archive: Yes to list archives. All others please let me know where so I can come and preen, okay?
Thanks to: You, for reading this. Paul, for being patient and understanding when I disappear into the computer room for days on end to write.
Disclaimer: Tony Lovato & Benji Madden are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it.
Summary: Nothing, not even his past experiences with Tony, can prepare Benji for what happens when he comes home to find a note on his bed; a note with very specific instructions on what he is to do that night.
Benjamin,
Next to you on the bed there is a black bag. Do not touch it yet; I will know if you do. You are to go into the bathroom where you will clean yourself inside and out. You will also become completely smooth for me. Then and only then, are you to open the bag, take out the clothes that are in it, dress yourself in them and make your way to the playroom, where I will be waiting for you
Benji re-read the note, a light frown creasing his forehead, teeth worrying his lower lip as he whispered the words to himself. Butterflies danced in his stomach as he placed the note on the bed, nervous excitement racing top-speed through his veins. He turned his attention to bag next to him, wondering what it held as he ran one finger along the cold metal zip, before jerking his hand back as though burned, the implicit warning in the note echoing in his mind.
He glanced wistfully at his pillows; he was tired and part of him wanted to ignored the instructions, lie down and go straight to sleep. But the part of him interested in the stirring of his cock in his pants was curious and excited. And remembered what happened the last time he disobeyed Tony.
A shiver ran through him and he scrubbed his hands over his face, stretching his arms above his head, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as his back popped. He ran his fingers lightly across his stomach where his t-shirt had lifted, the skin goose bumping under his touch. Exhaling heavily, he pulled his t-shirt off, his sneakers, pants and boxers soon joining it on the floor and, as directed by the note, he padded across the room to the en-suite, flicking the switch and blinking against the glare of the light as he stepped through the door.
His eyes grew wide at the sight of fluffy pink towels hanging from the towel rail. He blinked several times, swearing under his breath as he crossed the room. "Pink?" He shook his head in disbelief, even as he reached out and rubbed a corner of one of the towels between thumb and forefinger, a blissful look filling his eyes when he realised they were as soft as they looked. He sighed contentedly as he sat down on the edge of the bath, holding the soft towel to his face; Tony loved indulging his hedonistic streak and now, apparently, it also included soft fluffy towels.
"Even if they are pink," he chuckled softly, reluctantly letting the towel fall back into place. "Clean inside and out," he repeated to himself, reaching up to the cupboard above the sink, when something on the edge of the bath caught his eye. He picked up the bottles of shower gel and body lotion, uncapped them and wrinkled his nose in distaste at the feminine scent of them. "Ylang Ylang and patchouli?" he read, v lif lifting into a question as he placed them back down on the ledge, fingers running over the pink lady shave next to them. "What the fuck? Pink towels, girly toiletries and a lady shave?" He uredured to himself. "What the fuck are you up to, Lovato?"
Author: Adelaide Elizabeth Morgan (falconkenobi@aol.com)
Author Web Page: http://www.aemslash.co.uk Obsess, Much?
Fandom: RPS - Good Charlotte/Mest
Categories: Tony Lovato/Benji Madden, PWP, Fetish/Kink
Rating: NC17
Archive: Yes to list archives. All others please let me know where so I can come and preen, okay?
Thanks to: You, for reading this. Paul, for being patient and understanding when I disappear into the computer room for days on end to write.
Disclaimer: Tony Lovato & Benji Madden are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it.
Summary: Nothing, not even his past experiences with Tony, can prepare Benji for what happens when he comes home to find a note on his bed; a note with very specific instructions on what he is to do that night.
Benjamin,
Next to you on the bed there is a black bag. Do not touch it yet; I will know if you do. You are to go into the bathroom where you will clean yourself inside and out. You will also become completely smooth for me. Then and only then, are you to open the bag, take out the clothes that are in it, dress yourself in them and make your way to the playroom, where I will be waiting for you
Benji re-read the note, a light frown creasing his forehead, teeth worrying his lower lip as he whispered the words to himself. Butterflies danced in his stomach as he placed the note on the bed, nervous excitement racing top-speed through his veins. He turned his attention to bag next to him, wondering what it held as he ran one finger along the cold metal zip, before jerking his hand back as though burned, the implicit warning in the note echoing in his mind.
He glanced wistfully at his pillows; he was tired and part of him wanted to ignored the instructions, lie down and go straight to sleep. But the part of him interested in the stirring of his cock in his pants was curious and excited. And remembered what happened the last time he disobeyed Tony.
A shiver ran through him and he scrubbed his hands over his face, stretching his arms above his head, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as his back popped. He ran his fingers lightly across his stomach where his t-shirt had lifted, the skin goose bumping under his touch. Exhaling heavily, he pulled his t-shirt off, his sneakers, pants and boxers soon joining it on the floor and, as directed by the note, he padded across the room to the en-suite, flicking the switch and blinking against the glare of the light as he stepped through the door.
His eyes grew wide at the sight of fluffy pink towels hanging from the towel rail. He blinked several times, swearing under his breath as he crossed the room. "Pink?" He shook his head in disbelief, even as he reached out and rubbed a corner of one of the towels between thumb and forefinger, a blissful look filling his eyes when he realised they were as soft as they looked. He sighed contentedly as he sat down on the edge of the bath, holding the soft towel to his face; Tony loved indulging his hedonistic streak and now, apparently, it also included soft fluffy towels.
"Even if they are pink," he chuckled softly, reluctantly letting the towel fall back into place. "Clean inside and out," he repeated to himself, reaching up to the cupboard above the sink, when something on the edge of the bath caught his eye. He picked up the bottles of shower gel and body lotion, uncapped them and wrinkled his nose in distaste at the feminine scent of them. "Ylang Ylang and patchouli?" he read, v lif lifting into a question as he placed them back down on the ledge, fingers running over the pink lady shave next to them. "What the fuck? Pink towels, girly toiletries and a lady shave?" He uredured to himself. "What the fuck are you up to, Lovato?"