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They were just being cautious and that's all.
Chance couldn't leave someone like Itrapped living alone, not after hearing about what happened to him before. Chance had all the ways to protect and take care of him properly, Itrapped wouldn't be crazy to refuse them, right? And even if he wanted to, he couldn't—they weren't suggesting, but rather ordering him.
And that's how he ended up living—locked, if we're using the correct terms—under the same roof as Chance. He was still yet to decide whether he enjoyed the current situation he's in or if he should come up with a plan to escape as soon as possible. If that was even possible.
Surprisingly enough, he got used to his current situation pretty quickly. Chance didn't seem surprised despite Itrapped's stubbornness at first, they even joked about Itrapped being made for this, in which he shrugged at the statement.
But he couldn't say it was a lie. Chance did everything to him while he just had to live under their care until… he wasn't sure until when, but that sounded like a fair trade if he only had to do nothing but being next to them, he's been through much worse before.
While Chance was drying their hands after washing the dishes, Itrapped hovered in the doorway. He fidgeted with the sleeve of the oversized hoodie Chance had bought him, it dressed him almost like a dress, sleeves swallowing his fingers.
"I don't know what I did to deserve that," he mumbled.
Chance glanced over. "Deserve what?"
"I mean—" Itrapped ducked his head, hair falling into his eyes. He looked almost embarrassed to be speaking at all. "I don't know why you're doing this to me. I don't mean it badly. I'm just… I feel weird sometimes."
Chance leaned back against the counter, studying him. The way he couldn't hold eye contact and the way he chewed on his lower lip when anxious.
"Because I want to," Chance said simply. "I want to take care of you. I want to protect you."
Itrapped's fingers tightened in his sleeves. "I just don't think you should be doing all that. It's weird, no?"
"How so?" Chance's voice was calm.
"It's not appropriate."
Itrapped shifted his weight from one foot to the other, socks sliding slightly against the floor. "I feel like…" He hesitated, cheeks pink. "Your girlfriend."
Chance blinked.
"Girlfriend?" they repeated, a slow grin pulling at their mouth.
"Yeah," Itrapped muttered quickly, flustered now. "Like—like you cook and clean and spend money on me and tell me when to go to sleep and– and I'm just here. It's weird."
Chance pushed off the counter and walked towards Itrapped's direction, he immediately straightened his position but didn't move away.
"Is that what you think?" they asked softly.
"I mean– isn't it?" His voice got smaller the closer Chance came. "It's kind of embarrassing."
Chance would personally disagree. If anything, there isn't a position more fitting for Itrapped. He's so soft, so fragile, just like a doll—one that could break if touched with a little more strength, one that was only made for the eyes of those who could admire her. That's why Chance needed to have Itrapped around him, or else he'd break in the wrong hands.
And well, Chance could easily make a girlfriend of him. Up close, Itrapped always looked younger somehow. Big eyes. Soft features. Smooth hair. He didn't have to do much effort to behave or look like a girl, so Chance could just dress him up and show him off like like a prize of their possession. And that wouldn't even take much from them either. Just a few small changes here and there.
Chance reached out and gently tugged one of his swallowed hands free.
"If you were my girlfriend," they started, tone dropping into something deeper, "I would've been done with you a long time ago. I'd pick your clothes, not but because I'd want to see you in what I like. Soft fabrics. Colors that make you look even smaller. I'd fix your hair before we left our home. Make sure you looked exactly how I wanted."
Itrapped's brain visibly short-circuited.
"W-What?"
"And I wouldn't be asking you to stay," Chance continued, tilting their head slightly. "You wouldn't have a choice. You'd already live where I do. Sleep where I tell you. I'd decide who gets to look at you, who gets to talk to you." Their thumb pressed gently against the inside of his wrist, feeling his pulse flutter.
Chance leaned a little closer, close enough that their voice brushed warm against his cheek. "But don't worry," they added softly. "If you were my girlfriend… I'd still take very good care of you."
"That's worse!" Itrapped protested, though he didn't pull his hand back. "That's way worse!"
Chance chuckled low. "Relax. You don't have much of a choice already."
Itrapped pouted, which only made him look cuter. "You're so mean."
"And you're still here."
He opened his mouth to argue, then paused. "Where else would I go…" he mumbled under his breath.
Chance heard Itrapped's words but decided to say nothing back. Their silence was already an answer for him, so they just smiled at him. When Chance lifted their arms and slowly draped them around Itrapped's shoulders, he flinched like a startled kitten. Chance let out a quiet laugh.
"Are you scared?" they murmured, amusement curling in their voice. "I wouldn't lay a finger on you." Their hold wasn't tight. Just firm enough to feel Possessive.
Chance brushed a few strands of hair away from his face, fingertips grazing his face before sliding down to tuck the hair neatly behind his ear.
"So pretty," Chance said softly, studying every inch of his face. "You make it too easy."
Itrapped swallowed, eyes flicking away before nervously returning to their face. "You're being weird again…"
Chance didn't answer him.
Itrapped's pout deepened, and he tried to move away slightly in Chance's arms. Chance noticed quickly and brought him closer without effort, hand resting at the back of his neck now, thumb warm against his skin.
"Relax," they said, voice gentler this time. "If I really wanted to control you, you'd know."
"That's not reassuring!"
Chance's smile widened just barely. They leaned in, close enough that their breath ghosted against his cheek, but still not kissing him yet. "Itrapped," they said quietly, "if I ever told you to run, would you?"
He hesitated.
"…Probably not."
That answer did something to Chance. Something quiet and satisfied. They didn't comment on that either. Instead, they pressed a brief, almost chaste kiss to his forehead—a contrast to everything they'd just said.
"Let's go to bed, Itrapped."
Itrpped stiffened again. "T-To sleep, right?" he asked quickly.
Chance clicked their tongue and chuckled softly.
"Obviously." He paused. "Unless you think I meant something else?"
"I didn't!" he shot back quickly.
Itrapped blinked up at them, still flustered. "…You're not going to, like… lock the door or something, right?" He asked, trying to change the topic to something less bad? He had ran out of good things to say.
Chance laughed under their breath.
"Not tonight."
Chance kept an arm around his shoulders as they guided him toward the bedroom, once they made sure Itrapped was coddled up in bed, Chance turned off the lights and spoke gently before leaving.
"Sleep well, princess."
The petname made Itrapped curl under the sheets. Disgusting.
Chance is a persistent person. Once they get an idea, it's hard to take it off their head until it's done. With that being said, it'd be very easy for them to get a hold of testosterone blockers and estrogen, and Chance knows enough people to get these easily for them.
The next morning, Chance decides to put their plan into action. As expected, Chance got their hands in everything they needed pretty fast. Chance knows that Itrapped is terrible at swallowing pills, so they make it easy for him. They crush them into powder and mixes them into yogurt, topping it all with fresh berries and honey to conceal any lingering taste. They make a mug of tea to wash it all down, they even mixed with strawberry jam, Itrapped's favorite.
"Does it taste good, Itrapped?" Chance asked, voice lazy. They look at Itrapped with arrogance as they lean back in their chair, arms folded.
Itrapped pauses mid-bite. He looks up at Chance, cheeks slightly puffed with food. He nods quickly and then adds.
"It's… really good," he said softly. "You didn't have to make all that for me, Chance."
Chance hummed, clearly pleased with Itrapped's words of praise, though they tried to mask it behind a crooked grin. "Of course I had to, I want to make sure you're eating properly." they smiled, leaning forward slightly. "If you're staying here, you're getting the best. I'll only give you the best."
Their words sound slightly threatening, but Itrapped decides to ignore and docus on finishing his food instead.
"Aren't you going to eat?" he asks softly after a moment, glancing at Chance who hadn't touched the food they made yet. "You should… you worked hard."
Chance tilts their head, resting their cheek against their hands. "I'll eat later. Right now I'm making sure you finish everything."
Itrapped hesitates. "But it'll get cold."
"Then focus on finishing yours first." Chance answers sharply, eyes narrowing towards Itrapped.
Itrapped lowers his gaze immediately out of fear. His fingers tighten faintly around his fork.
"Okay," he murmurs obediently.
Chance watches attentively as Itrapped takes another bite from his food. And another. Every time he hums faintly under his breath at the taste, Chance's smirk deepens. They're proud of what they're doing to him, after all, who could take such good care of Itrapped, if not them?
Chance reaches out to brush yogurt from the corner of Itrapped's mouth with their thumb. "Messy," they murmur.
Itrapped stiffened, lashes fluttering as he looked at Chance, afraid of being scolded. "I'm sorry…"
Chance chuckled softly. "Don't apologize for being cute."
And that's how things go from now on. If Itrapped could at least choose what to eat, he can't anymore, that's all on Chance. They made their research properly to change Itrapped's diet slowly, cutting everything that could increase his testosterone or block the effects of estrogen, they couldn't risk these happening. Itrapped also didn't express any discomfort—mostly because he was scared of doing so, but Chance was so attentive he felt like he didn't have any reasons to complain at all.
Chance knows it'll take a while for their plan to take effect, there are almost no changes at all for the first month. The only significant change was Itrapped becoming moodier than usual. But Chance just takes it and never fight back, knowing that Itrapped is going through changes unbeknownst to himself. If this is the price Chance has to pay to get what they want, so be it.
However, Chance's not really satisfied with the long wait, so they decided that if that's still the case by the end of the month, they'll call off the whole experiment. Itrapped—still clueless, will receive unspiked breakfast from now on.
But then week four finally comes, and with it, something new. It starts with them frotting, which is definitely not new: Itrapped loves rubbing off against Chance, and although he never says it, Chance knows he really gets off on the size difference. His small body in Chance's lap, his thin thighs braced against Chance's, his tiny dick leaking all over Chance's hung cock. It turns them on too, more than they're willing to let on.
Chance starts kissing down Itrapped's neck. They leave bruises on his sensitive throat, only to realize that the skin is softer there. Smoother. There's no sign of stubble even though Itrapped hasn't shaved recently. Chance groans, biting down harder, kissing and sucking at every inch of skin exposed to them.
When he takes Itrapped's nipple into their mouth, Itrapped leaves a shameless moan out, his nails digging into Chance's shoulders. "C-Chance–!" he gasps, hips bucking. "F-Feels—haah—too good!"
Chance swirls their tongue, savoring Itrapped's moans. Itrapped always likes to be touched there, but he's never been so responsive before. He's squirming so hard that he certainly would've fallen off Chance's lap if it weren't for the strong arms around him keeping him in place. Chance moves onto the other nipple, pinching the abandoned one between their fingers. Itrapped breaks into sobs, grinding clumsily onto Chance.
Chance is rock hard, but they pay no mind to their own arousal. They're sucking at Itrapped's nipple like a starving man, nibbling and tugging with their teeth, and Itrapped's only getting louder and whinier. Chance finally lets the nipple pop out of their mouth, wet and engorged, and they start flicking it rapidly with they tongue. Itrapped comes faster than expected, spilling all over Chance's dick and stomach.
After that, Chance makes sure to pay extra attention to Itrapped's chest, that only seemed to get more and more sensitive. It only takes a couple more weeks before Chance notices that they're not just sucking at a flat, bony plane anymore; Itrapped's nipples now sit on tiny puffy mounds, almost invisible if you aren't looking for them. Chance is, though.
They often fuck Itrapped from the front, to see him better, they say. But now, there's an even better reason for them to keep doing that: the harder Chance fucks him, the more Itrapped's tiny tits jiggle. Chance takes him like he's boneless, almost slamming him into the headboard with every thrust. And Itrapped—despite not saying it out loud, loves being treated this way, he loves when Chance treats him roughly.
When Chance feels their pace starting to get messier, they pull out. Kneeling over Itrapped, Chance jerks themself off until they're coming all over Itrapped's chest. The way their cum shoot and cling to his tits only confirms they're really there. Chance marks their territory and then licks it all up, like a satisfied dog.
They couldn't call it off now.
Itrapped doesn't seem to notice the changes that Chance is watching so intentively for. He simply doesn't notice that now he can get away without shaving for a few more days, and he's enjoying his increased nipple sensitivity too much to question it. His blissful ignorance just confirms Chance's belief that they're doing what's right for Itrapped, that this is what he was made for.
Of course, Itrapped can't stay blind to it forever. One night, after finally leaving Chance's penthouse—with them, of course—to go out, Itrapped spent the entire ride back home crying and sobbing over how ugly, weird and disgusting he felt tonight. "Everything looks wrong," he sniffles to Chance, frustrated. "It's like nothing fits me right anymore."
"What about it felt wrong?" they asked.
Itrapped swallows. "It's tighter. Here." He gestures vaguely to his chest and stomach, cheeks flushing. "And my pants feel snug, too. I didn't gain weight, did I?" The last part comes out fragile than expected.
Chance hums thoughtfully, finally glancing over. They pretend to inspect it carefully. At this point, there's no denying the little triangular tits that poke out.
"You don't look too different to me," they say smoothly. "Maybe you're just bloated tonight?"
"But it's been like this for a few days…" Itrapped sulks, his fingers toyong nervously with the hem of his shirt. "It's like my clothes shrunk or something."
Chance's mouth twitches.
"Clothes don't just shrink in your closet, sweetheart."
Itrapped's lips part at that tone. He always softens when Chance speaks to him like that—like he just said something stupid.
"Well then I don't know," Itrapped said.
"If you're that frustrated," they start. "You could just borrow my clothes."
Itrapped blinks.
"Yours?"
"Yeah," Chance says lazily. "I've got plenty of stuff. I can also buy you more clothes if mine don't fit. You're so tiny after all." they suggested.
"That'd be so nice… thank you, Chance." Itrapped whispers softly.
"It's nothing, sweetheart," they murmur, voice warm and indulgent. "I don't want you stressing out over silly things ever. That's my job."
Itrapped's heart flutter at the nickname, embarrassment and relief mixing together.
"When we get home," Chance continues, settling back into their seat, "I'll run you a nice bath. Something warm. Lavender, maybe. Help you calm down."
Itrapped blinks. "You don't have to—"
"But I want to," Chance interrupts gently. "You've had such a hard night. I'll wash your hair, make sure you're all relaxed. Then we'll find you something comfortable to wear. Something that actually fits."
The car suddenly goes quiet. Itrapped only nods slowly because he has no other option than to agree. "…Okay."
Chance's mouth curves upward, satisfied.
"That's my good princess."
Once they're back to Chance's place, Chance runs to their bathroom to prepare Itrapped's bath, who's still sulky about his current figure, while Chance is trying their best not to look too pleased with what they're both seeing now.
They call for Itrapped who's in the other room. He runs quickly to the bathroom and smiles at Chance fondly. Chance walks towards him and holds him by the shoulders, starting to undress himself carefully, and they're actually surprised by how Itrapped just seemed to accept that Chance was going to see him naked. Well they've seen his bare figure countless times already, but taking a bath together sounds far more intimate than just… having sex together. Itrapped is already used to getting fucked, that's why.
Chance enters the bathtub and order Itrapped to do so right after, Itrapped's body is still tensed up and Chance brings him closer to their chest, whispering sweet nothings and telling him to relax, that he's safe for now. With both skin and water against him, Itrapped squirms and Chance is unfortunately left with no choice but to hold him tighter, they apologize and start washing Itrapped's body to make him get more used to. "If you cooperate with me, it will be over quickly." Chance says.
"I'm sorry," he hiccups, hands curling weakly against the material of the bathtub. "I'm making it difficult again. I'm always—"
"You're not," Chance cuts in, their grip shifting from restraining to a more reassuring. One hand slides up to cradle the back of Itrapped's head instead of holding him in place. "You're not making anything difficult."
Itrapped's sobs are quiet, almost embarrassed. The water ripples around them with every tremor. He tries to wipe the tears off his face, but Chance catches his wrist and end up doing it for him instead.
"Don't touch yourself if I didn't say so."
Chance tilts his chin up gently so their eyes meet. They smile at Itrapped before speaking again. "I'm going to wash your hair, okay?" they say softly. "Relax for me, sweetheart."
Itrapped hesitates for a second before giving a small nod.
Chance reaches for the shower cup beside the tub, scooping up warm water. "Lean back," they guide Itrapped sliding one hand to support the back of his neck. When Itrapped obeys, Chance steadies him against their chest, letting him feel the solid warmth behind him.
The first pour of water runs over his scalp slowly. Itrapped flinches at first, shoulders tightening again. "I…" His voice comes out small. He swallows. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm acting like this."
"Neither do I," Chance said. Their thumb brushes gently behind Itrapped's ear before spilling water again, letting the water fall slower this time, more controlled. Their other hand stays firm at the base of his neck, steadying him against their chest. Itrapped exhales through his nose. The second time doesn't make him flinch as much.
Chance reach for the shampoo, working a small amount between their palms before threading their fingers into his hair. The first touch is careful. As if testing how far they can go with Itrapped. They lazily trace circles against his scalp. Itrapped's eyes flutter shut.
The tension in his shoulders melts inch by inch under Chance's touch. Chance massages deliberately, fingertips tracing along his skin, behind his ears, down to the nape of his neck. Every move of theirs is calculated.
He lets out a quiet breath he didn't realize he'dbeen holding.
"There you go," Chance hums. "That's my good girl."
Foam gathers between their fingers as they continue, thumbs pressing gentle circles near his hairline. "Your hair got longer," Chance mentions casually, combing through the strands. "Did you notice that?"
Itrapped blinks his eyes open halfway, his mind is already far too gone. "Ah… yes…" He hesitates, breath hitching just slightly. "You said you liked it longer so…"
He takes a small breath before finishing.
"So I'm letting it grow for you."
Chance's fingers stop caressing his scalp and Itrapped turns around quickly, he's scared he might've said too much and now Chance would feel disgusted. But then again their fingers start moving, even softer this time.
"Oh?" they murmur, voice dropping into something warmer. More intimate. Their fingertips glide through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "For me?"
Itrapped nods shyly.
Chance leans down, lips brushing near his neck. "So beautiful," they whisper. They bite their lips before speaking again. "Princess."
Itrapped's stomach flips at the word, but he doesn't feel uncomfortable this time. Instead, he sinks even further back against Chance, as if he's been waiting for them to say that. As if he wanted to be called that. Chance continues washing his hair, careful not to let soap run into his eyes. Their fingers slow into lazy strokes, combing through the length like they’re memorizing it.
As they finish bathing Itrapped, Chance instructs him to get out of the tub while they follow him, doing the same. Chance grabs a towel and wraps it around Itrapped, they start by drying his body first, taking their time to admire him as well.
They place their hands on Itrapped's shoulders, and even those are different now; his collarbones are less pronounced, no longer stretching to either shoulder. Chance smooths their touch down Itrpped's arms, feeling how soft his skin feels now. They cup Itrapped's chest once again. playing with his nipples until they harden, then moves on to skim past Itrapped's waist. Their hands land on Itrapped's hips, stroking down to the tops of his thighs.
Itrapped watches every movement in the mirror, mesmerized. His breath hitches when Chance's fingers press against his inner thigh. He bites his lips to prevent a moan from leaving. "C-Chance, please slow down." he says between quiet sobs, but doesn't try to fight and stop them.
"Fuck, you look so good Itrapped," Chance whispers into his ear. "You feel so good too. So soft. So responsive for me." They pull Itrapped flush against their body so he can feel how hard they are.
Itrapped shivers, and left a breathless moan escape. He tilts his head back, exposing his throat. An offering for Chance. Chance bends their head to take it in their mouth, hiding their smile in the soft skin exposed for them. Itrapped is so easy to predict. Above all else, Itrapped loves being desired. He knows he's beautiful, but beauty is meaningless in a vacuum. It needs someone to acknowledge it. Someone to prove it. Chance's feral, uncontrollable attraction to him is the perfect evidence.
Chance bends him over the cold marble wall of the bathroom, running a hand down Itrapped's spine until they reach his newly-plump ass. They kneel as an worshipper getting ready to pray—spreading Itrapped's cheeks so they can lick over his hole. Itrapped jolts as his hands reach the wall, trying to fix his balance. Itrapped's always been very sensitive, but never like this. Just a few minutes of Chance's tongue has him moaning shamelessly and struggling to stay upright.
Chance pulls back so they can admire his pretty hole, shiny with spit. Itrapped's thighs are trembling with pleasure, but his tiny dick still hangs soft between his legs, a thick strand of precum drooling from the tip. If Itrapped's noticed his recent trouble with erections, he hasn't mentioned it; probably because he's always been a bottom, and thus pays very little attention to his own dick during sex. As long as he's getting fucked, he's as happy as can be.
"Let's get you dressed," Chance says abruptly, the softness from before was no longer there.
They stand, already reaching for Itrapped's wrist and pulling him up with them. The sudden shift makes Itrapped blink in confusion. His legs feel unsteady as he follows Chance out of the bathroom and back toward the bedroom.
When they reach the bedroom, Chance releases him and gestures toward the edge of the bed.
"Sit."
Itrapped obeys immediately, perching on the mattress with his hands resting on his thighs. He watches Chance move to their dresser, rummaging through drawers with sharp, efficient motions.
"I'll get you something to dress in."
Itrapped swallows. Something about the tone makes his stomach flutter—not in fear, exactly, but in uncertainty. He doesn't understand what he did to cause the change. If he did anything at all.
Chance turns and walks back over, holding up a soft, blue piece of fabric.
Itrapped tilts his head. "Is that a dress?"
"It's a nightgown."
He squints at it. It looks loose, delicate, feminine. "It's the same thing, no?"
Chance's eyes snap to his. "Are you going to wear it or not?" they bark at Itrapped.
Itrapped startles at the sharpness. His shoulders draw in slightly, fingers curling into the sheets. "Y-Yes," he says quickly. "I'm sorry." The apology comes automatically, soft and breathy. He reaches out with hesitant hands, taking the nightgown carefully like it might tear.
He stands when Chance motions for him to, slipping the fabric over his head. It falls past his hips, light and airy, brushing against his now thick thighs. The neckline is at least modest, but the material is thin enough to cling faintly to his frame. This doesn't look like something would wear, so Itrapped wonder if it was originally for someone else—or if they had this prepared for him before. He fixes the nightgown and smooths it down awkwardly. Chance steps closer, adjusting the strap where it sits crooked on his shoulder. Their touch is precise, Itrapped almost felt mocked.
"Look at me," Chance says, already reaching out for Itrapped's chin, who obeys immediately.
Chance stares at him with an unreadable expression. Itrapped's heart pounds. He doesn's know what he did wrong—if he did something at all. He replays the last hour in his head, searching for the mistake. Was he too loud? Too needy? Too quiet?
"Fix your face, Itrapped," Chance mutters.
Itrapped stiffens. "I'm sorry, I–"
"I don't wanna hear your apologies," Chance says, holding a smile on their face.
Then Chance exhales through their nose, some of the edge draining from their posture. They brush their thumb briefly across Itrapped's cheeks, their touch is suddenly gentle again, leaving Itrapped even more confused.
"You look so cute," they admit.
Itrapped blinks, surprised. His shoulders relax just a fraction. "R-Really?"
"Don't fish for it," Chance laughs, snapping back.
Itrapped lowers his gaze again, hands twisting in the hem of the nightgown. "I didn't mean to– I just… I don't know what you want from me sometimes."
Chance's jaw tightens and Itrapped immediately panics. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant– I want to do it right. Whatever you want. I just don't always know what that is."
"I'm just toying with you. No need to keep apologizing," Chance says, stroking his cheek. Itrapped leans into it like he's starving for their touch. "Just quit worrying so much, yeah? I said I would never harm you, so let me take proper care of my princess."
Itrapped nods, looking unsure but taking Chance's words as the truth. "Thank you. For being so considerate. I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful."
He's such a sweet, obedient thing, ready to ignore his own feelings and body in favor of listening to Chance. Trusting Chance. What a pity.
"I know you aren't," Chance smiles again. "You know what's good for you and I know it too, right, pretty girl?"
Itrapped nods quietly. These terms aren't sounding as unwelcoming as they did before.
The next day Chance decides to spoil Itrapped a little after being so rough with him yesterday—although they don't actually think they were, Chance knows Itrapped felt bad because he was sulking when he went to sleep. So, to make up with him, they went shopping to get him new clothes as they said they'd do.
As they opened the door, Itrapped immediately jumped up from the couch, looking at like a puppy expecting a treat. He smiled at Chance but quickly shifted his attention to the shopping bags around their arms—he hoped they were what he thought they were.
"Did something catch your attention?" Chance asked teasingly.
"It did, yes," he admitted, his eyes were wide, shining with barely-contained curiosity as his fingers fidgeted together.
Chance shifted the bags slightly so the paper crinkled on purpose, just like when you tease a dog with treats.
"Oh? And what would that be?"
Itrapped rocked on his socks, biting his lip shyly. "May I know what these are?" he asked softly, glancing up at Chance through his lashes before quickly looking back at the bags again.
Chance hummed thoughtfully, enjoying the way he was practically vibrating.
"I decided to spoil you," they said at last, tone smooth. "A little pampering isn't bad."
Itrapped's entire face lit up.
"R-Really?" His voice pitched higher with excitement, and he clasped his hands together in front of his chest. "For me?"
"Do you see anyone else here?" Chance raised their brows. "Let's go to your room, wanna see you try on them," they said, turning towards the hallway.
Itrapped didn't need to be told twice. He hurried after Chance, nearly bumping into their back before catching himself.
"Should I close the door?" he asked eagerly. "Do I have to try them on right away? Can I look first? Are they—are they soft?"
He peeked into one of the bags while walking and almost tripped over his own feet.
"Careful," Chance muttered, catching him by the wrist before he face-planted into the wall.
"Sorry," Itrapped whispered, his cheeks turning pink.
He followed Chance into his room, sitting neatly on the edge of the bed like he was waiting for instructions, eyes fixed on the bags with anticipation. Chance, raising their eyebrows, suggests that Itrapped pick up one of the bags to see what's inside. Itrapped quickly understands what he should do and holds one in his hands. Upon opening it, he encounters something unexpected and immediately turns his attention to Chance.
"Is that a dress…?!" he asks, voice pitching up in shock as he carefully lifts the fabric from the bag.
"Yes. Do you like it?"
"I…" Itrapped hesitates, fingers smoothing over the material. He isn't sure of that yet. It looks really, really pretty—soft, feminine, the kind of thing he's only ever admired from a distance. It looks very expensive, too. The stitching is neat, the fabric thick and smooth beneath his fingertips. Chance definitely picked it on purpose so he couldn't just reject the gift without feeling bad for it.
He swallows. "…I do."
Chance's lips twitch, almost satisfied. "You don't have to try it on right now. There's more to see."
Itrapped nods quickly, a little relieved at that, and sets the dress carefully aside before reaching for the other bags. One by one, he opens them. Blouses. Skirts. Stockings. Another blouse, and lots of dresses as well. To his unsurprise, Chance only got him women's clothes—oh well, he has nowhere to run now, figuratively and literally.
His chest feels tight, he glances up at Chance briefly, who's watching him attentively, leaning back against the wall with their arms crossed, waiting for his reaction.
There's only one bag left now.
The one Chance has been holding this entire time, Itrapped notices it immediately. It's smaller than the others. Chance shakes the bag and Itrapped walks towards him. He pouts, but he grabs at the bag eagerly. Chance knows he loves being treated like the princess he is. Itrapped pulls the garment out of the bag, and his eyes widen when he sees what it is: a pair of skimpy panties made of blue see-through lace. They're so tiny that Itrapped has to turn them around a few times, unsure which side is the front and which is the back.
"Are these for me?" Itrapped stares at Chance in horror.
"They're a little small to be mine, aren't they?" Chance says with a smile. "I think they'd fit you perfectly, though."
Itrapped bites his lip, staring at the fabric with intrigue. "I guess I should try them on and see," he says, like he's asking for permission.
"I think so too," Chance says. "Oh, it came in a set, by the way. The rest is in the bag."
Itrapped wastes no time and starts undressing himself to put on his new clothes…? He's not sure if these can be considered clothes, but he's trying on them. Chance looks surprised at first, he didn't even bother to go to somewhere more private or whatever, but they're pleased with. Considering he's not looking at Chance, he might think Chance's not looking at him either.
So Itrapped finally turns back to Chance again to show them his new possession. The panties sit high on his hips, accentuating their curves, and even his tiny soft cock is bulging out of the sheer crotch, and the bra is so small that Itrapped's little tits are almost spilling out of it.
Chance walks over and settles behind Itrapped, running a hand down the curve of his spine. Itrapped arches further, pushing his hips back into Chance's touch.
"Get in bed."
Itrapped obeys instantly, walking towards his bed and pushing himself onto his knees and sitting back on his heels. Chance strokes down his sides, over his hips, his touch lingering; he feels the way Itrapped shivers, the way his breath comes fast. He cups Itrapped's jaw next, turning his face towards the mirror.
"Look at you," they say, close to Itrapped's ear. He drags his lips over the shell of it. "So pretty."
Itrapped's gaze flickers, as if he's ashamed of meeting his own reflection. Chance notices. They hold Itrapped's chin tighter now, tilting his head, forcing him to look.
"Eyes on yourself, baby."
Itrapped makes a soft, weak sound, but he listens. Chance watches his reaction through the glass: how his lips part, how his pupils blow wide. He barely even blinks, as if he's afraid of turning into something else—someone else if he stop looking.
"What do you think?" they ask.
"I… like it," Itrapped says, still mesmerized by himself.
Chance strokes down over his stomach, stopping just short of the waistband of the panties. "See? You should trust me."
"I know what's better for you."
Chance bites down on their own lips to suppress a groan. They reward Itrapped with their hand slipping down even further, cupping him over the panties. Itrapped lets out a ragged breath, and Chance can feel him starting to strain against the lace.
Chance meets their gaze in the mirror, their own breath a little heavier now. "Want me to fuck you like this? Let you see how you look taking me?"
Itrapped nods fast. His eyes are wide, pupils swallowing the iris. Chance grips the back of his neck, heat curling in their gut at how pliant Itrapped is, how easily he's been brought to this point: wanting to watch himself be used, be wrecked.
"Then you gotta be quiet, doll," they murmured. "You can do that, right?"
"Lift your hips up a little for me, darling."
Itrapped scrambles to obey, crawling to the center of the bed and bracing himself on his forearms. The panties stretch taut over his ass, the lace almost transparent. Chance's cock throbs at the sight.
They kneel behind him and runs both hands down the backs of Itrapped's thighs, then over his hips, spreading him.
"I might not be gentle," Chance warns.
Itrapped wants to ask when they've ever been gentle but it might not be appropriate to talk back to them, so he just nods in approval, giving permission to them.
Chance takes their fingers to their mouth and wet them before entering inside Itrapped, they press a kiss to the base of Itrapped's spine and warns him once again, Itrapped is already too overwhelmed to answer properly so Chance just takes his silence as consent.
They start pressing a slick finger in, slow and careful, and Itrapped exhales sharply, tension seeping from his frame. Itrapped tightens around them and Chance tells Itrapped to relax—although it's hard for him to do so, especially if he's being ordered to. But he'll still try.
Chance works him open with practiced ease, relishing the feeling of Itrapped's tightness giving way to them slowly. Chance smiles proudly and starts moving a little faster now. They could feel Itrapped's struggle to keep quiet through the little whimpers and moans that he couldn't hold back, and god, if the sound of that didn't make them want to wreck him even more.
As Itrapped got more comfortable, Chance added another finger, they pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the back of Itrapped's shoulder. God, Itrapped was always so damn perfect like this, completely at their mercy.
"You like that, hm? Need more, doll?" they teased, their tone darker than usual as they curled their fingers inside Itrapped, hitting that spot they knew would make Itrapped dizzy.
The sight of Itrapped fighting his own urges to obey Chance was nearly enough to unravel them completely. They loved seeing their love like this—so desperate for them, so obedient,
"That's it, baby," Chance murmured in approval as they continued moving their fingers, watching every slight twitch and shiver from Itrapped.
"God, look at you… You're doing so good, taking me so well," Chance praised him, their free hand squeezing lightly over Itrapped's trembling thighs. "I'm gonna add one more… you think you can be good for me and stay quiet?"
The question was almost rethoric, whatever Itrapped answered, Chance would still go hard on him. His consent or the lack of it didn't matter after all—but he never complained about this.
"Good girl," Chance said, adding a third finger, stretching him open slowly. They took their time, wanting to make sure Itrapped was fully prepped to take them. "You have no idea how perfect you look like this, princess. Just taking my fingers so well, so desperate for me."
They leaned down, murmuring against the shell of his ear. "You feel—shit—you feel incredible," they gritted out, fingers curling just right.
Their other hand slid up Itrapped's chest, fingertips grazing a nipple—light, teasing—before pinching lightly, just to hear the muffled whimper it dragged from Itrapped's throat. His small tits felt heavier—fuller than before, and Chance smiled proudly.
"Close?" they whispered against the sweat-damp skin of Itrapped's shoulder.
Itrapped nods his head and Chance understands immediately. Unfortunately, to Itrapped's sadness, Chance won't let him find his release—at least not now.
Chance pulls their fingers and Itrapped lets a loud, frustrated moan out as he feels himself getting emptied. No, no, he needs Chance back inside.
The look on Itrapped's face was a glorious thing to behold—the frustration, the desperation. Chance wanted nothing more than to keep going, make him come screaming, but, they both had to wait.
"Not yet," they murmured, their hands moving to grip Itrapped's hip, fingers bruising. "You've been so good for me. Just a little longer, doll."
They leaned in, pressing a kiss to the nape of Itrapped's neck, letting out a shaky breath as they tried to collect themself.
"I'm going to wreck you."
It's been months already, and the hormones have long since settled into routine. The small dose has reached the limits of what it can do, and now it’s really just for maintenance. Chance loves watching Itrapped grow more and more at home in the body they'd made for him. It's all so natural, like he was always waiting for this. He only needed someone to guide him to the right direction.
Chance's hard work turned out so beautifully, they couldn't be more proud of their pretty girl. And when they both went out together, Chance also make sure of showing him—their doll—off to everyone.
"Well, look at you," one of Chance's friends teased them. "Who's that with you?"
Itrapped, the one before Chance, was no longer recognizable. It's been long since people heard about him. Chance didn't hesitate. Their arm slipped a little more possessive around Itrapped's waist, pulling him just a little closer.
"That's my girlfriend," they said smoothly, proud of the title used.
They turned their head, smiling as they looked back at Itrapped
"Isn't she beautiful?"