No Frills
An RP by NekoLen and Tachigami

WARNING
Lots of... perversion in the following RP. Read at your own risk!

Long fingers slowly tied white silk around a thin, slender waist, smoothing down the cloth of the front of the black skirt. Sitting on the bench, the same long-fingered hands slipped satiny white socks up elegant dancer-like legs and cinched the silver buckles on thin feet. It was difficult to walk in the platform heels at first, but it got easier over time. Not that he liked feeling comfortable in a dress. He mos definitely didn't. The skirt was far too short, even for a woman, and when he bent over he was on show for whomever wanted to take a look. It was only made more humiliating by the fact that he wasn't allowed any underthings during work hours. Standing and walking across the shed-made-dressing-room, Jamie picked up the white collar and buttoned it on, then slipped on black satiny gloves that didn't quite reach his elbows. Picking up the white ribbon, he gathered up his curly blonde hair and tied it at the base of his neck. Then he stared at his eyes. He'd put in contacts at home, so their pale blue was now more of a blue-green. Just like "Sir" liked them. He closed his eyes and turned away, smoothing down the skirt again in fruitless attempts to cover just a little more of himself. Luckily while he stood and walked, he was pretty much safe. It was only when Franklin Day requested him to bend down to pick something up that he was on complete and utter display, or if he had to step onto a tall stepladder.

Leaving the small, private shed, Jamie came out into a corner of the expansive back yard. Every morning but Sunday morning he was made to go around to the back yard and change out of his street clothes and into his uniform---and what an awful uniform, too, but he had accepted these outlandish terms. Looking up, he regarded the gorgeous home. Stucco, edged with red brick, sloped rooftops and tall, arched windows that were allowed all the high-ceiling rooms. He walked the cobblestone path back to the front yard, passing several cherub-adorned fountains as he did and pausing to collect a rose from one o the bushes. Mr. Day did like these little 'gifts' of red roses and he seemed a bit more easy to please when he was given one. Why was a mystery, but Jamie didn't ask questions. He left the back yard through the wrought iron gate and up the wide front porch. A set of heavy, dark double doors sat closed to him, but that was normal. He lowered his head, breathing for a moment, and stepped forward, pressing the doorbell in and hearing a solid, copper bell tone emanate from within. He sighed, twisting the rose in his hand and staring at its open, fanned petals. At least he didn't have to wear makeup. But then, he was sure that would make him look too much like a girl.

He didn't have to wait long. The doors were thrown open and a man with silver-black hair stood with a smile. He was a rather handsome-looking middle-aged man, an air of business radiating off him as strongly as his sense of charisma. That had been what caught Jamie's interest initially. He had wanted to work for the man at once. Then the rules came in. The uniform. The conditions. He could be touched innocently but had to accept that, and the comments, in stride, without showing animosity or resistance. At least he still had a little dignity, and didn't have to do anything more physical. If he had, Jamie would have walked.

Probably.

When the door opened Jamie looked up and managed a smile that didn't look forced. "Good morning, Sir." He said with a low bow that no doubt had Day looking over him and to the back. Standing upright, he presented the small gift. Day took it and held it under his nose, smiling a bit more and reaching out. His soft, never-worked-a-hard-day-in-his-life hand caressed Jamie's cheek.

"Very nice, Sweetie." His deep voice was like melted chocolate, but Jamie didn't fall for it anymore. In fact, he hated those cute little nicknames his employer came up with. But he was so well paid he couldn't stop coming back. Day's hand traveled down Jamie's neck, shoulder, and arm, lightly feathering over the skin, bringing an involuntary shiver from the young man. He hated his body... Then Day's fingers twisted around his hand and drew him inside, closing the door behind him. "You may begin breakfast." He said lightheartedly, stepping into the high entry hall and placing the rose in a small, empty vase near one of the two curving staircases. "I will be gone just for a moment, but trust that I will return very soon."

Jamie lowered his head. "Yes, Sir." He breathed, and without looking up he could see Day bite his lip. Jamie went by him, toward the kitchen. At least he could do one thing he loved while here---cook.

A clock chimed from somewhere deep inside the house, telling Oscar that it was roughly 7am. He groaned slightly and rolled over in his bed, covering his head with one of his silken pillows. He wished he could sleep in a bit longer, as he had been up most the night being violently sick. His skin felt greasy and his limbs felt tired and limp. His stomach, even though empty, gurgled and burned. He heaved a bit, but nothing came up.

As he rolled over again, he heard the familiar sound of keys. His father opened the door carefully, closing it shut behind him as he approached Oscar's bed. He screwed up his nose, smelling the sick smell that clung to Oscar's clothes after a bad night. "You were vomiting again?" he asked Oscar, taking the blankets off Oscar's small body so he couldn't hide. "I hope you made it to the toilet." Oscar nodded, curling up on the bed and trying his best the hide under his pillow. "Time to get up, doll. I need to clean you and brush your hair. You've got it all messy again."

Oscar groaned again but slowly sat up, brushing his delicate white hair out of his face and looking up at his father. The man smiled slightly as he bent down to pick Oscar's light frame up. He was washed in a warm bath and had his bed sores cleaned. Soon he was dressed in a frilly blue suit, his hair brushed and styled, and shiny black shoes put on his small feet. His father grinned, placing him back into bed. "Do you need anything?"

Oscar shook his head. He had a few books to read, and his teddy bears to keep him company. "I'll bring up some food later on, when your tummy feels better." He then left, locking the door behind him. Oscar listened to him leave and sighed, lying back down and staring up at the ceiling. At least he felt less greasy now, and the sores on his back didn't sting as much. He closed his pink eyes and drifted back off to sleep.

In the kitchen that was larger and better furnished than his entire apartment, Jamie started on breakfast. At least Day wasn't picky, and would eat just about anything. Although he was to cook a bit more than one man would eat, especially a man as conscious about his body as Day. Jamie didn't ask questions---he was told not to, but he assumed Day had a pet somewhere he preferred to take care of. When he was alone Jamie knew it wasn't going to be for long, so he got to work, getting uncut bacon, eggs, onions and red peppers, and a thick slice of ham, two potatoes from the pantry and several spices. He was to make two plates, one smaller than the other, and he was to leave one unseasoned. So he would make it first. Jamie took his gloves off so he could work without soiling them, and began slicing the ham and peppers thinly while looking out the window over the counter. The yard out there was impeccably kept, and he would sometimes watch the gardeners. It seemed outside, Day liked to employ large, muscled men, the likes of which Jamie was actually afraid of rather than allured by. No one was out there now, though.

Footsteps sounded behind him as he finished the ham and started on shaving the potatoes into thin discs. He didn't react, however. He'd been at this for six months now. Day slid up behind him and watched Jamie's hands work, his own, larger hand resting on Jamie's neck. "Need anything else?" He asked, his voice very low, almost a growl. Jamie blinked hard. Day, like most, was much larger than him.

"No, I'm fine." He replied without a waver to his voice, keeping his eye on his work studiously. He could feel Day smile, almost, as his fingers worked Jamie's skin in a light circle, then drifted down, and eventually, away. Then he was back, with only several feet of distance between them as Day leaned against the center island in the middle of the kitchen. Jamie finished slicing the potatoes and set the knife down quickly, moving too fast and sending it clattering to the floor in front of him as he jumped back in surprise. Damn it... Shit... His mind said what he couldn't aloud since he would get a glare. Jamie bit his lip without turning to Day and bent down at the waist to retrieve the knife, and heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. Ignore. Ignore. Ignoreignoreignore... He stood back upright and rinsed the knife with only slightly shaking hands.

He was such a slut. Even if he didn't do anything physical. He was just glorified eye candy for a creepy older man with way too many secrets and locked doors in his house. He moved to the eggs and started whisking them with butter in a glass bowl as a skillet started heating beside him. Just do your damn work. He chanted the words in his head every day. Every hour of those days.

Frank smiled as he watched the younger man cook, his fantasies taking a hold of him as they usually did. Of course a beautiful man like Jamie wouldn't be interested in someone like him, even if he did offer the young man a pay increase. So he had to make do with his fantasies and dark, perverted thoughts as Jamie cooked him breakfast.

He decided to break the silence, which was only layered with the sounds of cooking bacon and eggs. "How was your night last night? Did you go out dancing?" he asked, wondering what kids Jamie's age did on Friday and Saturday nights nowadays. He watched Jamie pour the eggs slowly into the pan, clenching his teeth at the sizzling noise and delicious smells. "I might have some dry toast as my extra today." There was no way his doll would be able to eat bacon and eggs after being so sick.

Jamie nodded in response and went to the breadbox, where of course the uncut bread was located. He brought it out and set it on a clean section of the counter, using the bread knife to slice several pieces from the rest. "No... I... prefer to be alone at night." He said after a moment. "It's quiet."

He glanced back and passed the man, receiving a light brush on the shoulder. It seemed every day there was one more touch, one more reason to get just a little closer. He sighed and started the four-slice toaster and as he pushed the plunger down, Jamie had to hurry back to the counter to begin slicing bacon off the block Day tended to buy. He preferred a bit thicker-sliced bacon, so Jamie made sure to slice several that way after his own thin pieces, setting them aside to cook after the eggs and their pepper and additions. "Anything else you'd like, Sir?" Jamie asked, looking toward Day.

"It all seems so perfect, like usual Sweet," Frank clasped his hands together and didn't stop smiling. There was something about how well Jamie served him... It felt so gratifying to be put in a "Master" role for once. He worked for others in his line of work and all his failed relationships he wasn't the one in power. Maybe that had been why he had adopted his doll. It felt good being able to look after someone, to have complete power over another being. And hopefully... Hopefully Jamie would become his next doll.

"You'll be joining me, of course?"

Jamie nodded and pulled three plates from the cabinet, one smaller than the other two as Day tended to ask for. At request he placed two pieces of the three slices of toast on the smaller plate, then halved what he'd made and plated everything up. "Of course I'll join you, Sir." He said, brushing back his hair as it fell in his face and blinking something out of his eye. It always hurt a bit more when something fell in his eye while he wore contacts, because Day hated Jamie's big glasses. He slipped his hands under the plates and took them to the small table in the breakfast nook, going back to sweep up his mess and dispose of it.

Frank watched Jamie clean, his eyes always straying towards the young man's bottom every time he bent slightly. Jamie had a beautiful body and his skin looked so... soft. Frank wondered if it would bruise easily and imagined roughly grabbing that plump ass, and hearing Jamie moan. He grinned when the young man returned, and started on his breakfast. It tasted good, like always.

"Very good. I'm really impressed."

Before he was to sit alongside Day Jamie could feel his eyes all over. Scraping up and down his barely-covered body and obviously loving every moment of it. Jamie hated himself for not trying to find a job that required actual clothing, but he'd been two days away from homelessness and with barely a dollar left, and since the first paycheck had been up front, he'd jumped.

"Thank you, Sir." He said gently, but without a real smile. He'd lost his tendency to smile unless looked at directly, studied specifically and straight-on.

"Do you enjoy cooking?" Day asked, one hand on the tabletop and drawing small circles on the polished wood.

"Um, yes... yes, Sir. I think I'm good at it." He looked up a bit, taking an obligatory bite off his plate so he didn't waste his own hard work. Day's eyes were light green, and under any other circumstances would be very handsome. he had aged well, after all.

Frank couldn't stop smiling, wondering how lucky he was to have someone like Jamie. He longed to reach out and hold the young man's hand, to kiss him, to lay him over the table... He chuckled and shook himself, trying to rid himself of perverted images. He ate more of his bacon, glancing at the unbuttered toast. Before he took it up to his doll's room, he'd have to put a few drops of medicine on it.

As he bit into the last piece of bacon, he heard his phone ringing from in his office. Scowling slightly, he excused himself from the table and left the room, walking quickly to his office to pick up the phone. The conversation didn't last long, and he returned with a frown. "Ah, work needs me to fly to Japan for a conference. I'll be gone today and tomorrow." He sat back down to finish eating his breakfast, again glancing at his toast. Last time this had happened, he had one of his gardeners take care of his doll. But he had Jamie now. And he trusted Jamie.

"I know Sunday is your day off, Sweetie. But can I ask you a favour? I'll pay you for Sunday as well if you stay here and look after my house, and my doll."

When the phone rang Jamie considered it a little blessing. He was left alone, but not for long. He shifted and slid his hands over his skirt, trying and failing to make it a little bit longer. Just a little. He stopped when Day came back, and looked up through his hair. When Day sat and spoke, he nodded slowly. "Of course, Sir. I wo... doll...?" He was curious now. Was this 'doll' behind a locked door? He glanced up, and Day took the chance presented, brushing back Jamie's hair from his forehead.

"Of course, my doll." Day said almost lovingly. "He is in his room, where he always is."

Jamie swallowed hard. Did Day have someone besides Jamie? Some plaything that did more than Jamie would? He often wondered how Day managed to restrain himself the way he did around Jamie, especially considering the dress the young man had to wear. "I see..." He said quietly, hoping he hadn't pushed the envelope too much.

"And of course my usual standard of dress still applies." Day said sternly.

"Yes, Sir." At least Day wouldn't be around to see it.

Frank finished his breakfast and waited for Jamie to be finished with his. "I can introduce you to him while I take up his toast. But I have a few rules, of course." He was trusting Jamie, maybe a bit too much. "You are to tell no one of his existence. He's very fragile and if too many people start wanting to see him... I'm afraid what would happen to him." He stood and took the plate. The medicine would have to wait. "You are only to go see him when you are giving him food or water. If he is dirty, you must wash him. Other than that, I forbid you to talk to him, or touch him."

"My doll is very precious and I am afraid he might be terrified to see someone different." Of course frank had taught Oscar to be scared of strangers, those that could do him harm.

Jamie was already regretting eating what he had. It twisted inside him and made him feel ill, but he swallowed that feeling down and took the dirtied dishes to the sink. "Don't worry about those right now---you can finish them later on."

"Yes, Sir." Jamie said, setting the items in the sink and following Day.

"You did understand what I said about keeping your mouth shut, did you? And to not speak to him or touch him unless necessary?"

"I did, Sir." Jamie said, following Day as he led the way out of the kitchen. Then he paused, putting out a hand and placing it on the small of Jamie's back.

"Very good, Sweetie." He said gently. "Come along now." He pushed Jamie along, having him walk ahead of him as they started up the stairs.

Oscar had woken up from his casual nap not too long before he heard footsteps approaching his door and hushed voices. He sat up and made sure his suit wasn't too messed up as well as his hair. His father liked him to look like a doll, so he often just sat staring at the wall while the man came into the room. He wasn't prepared for someone else to come in as well, a young man about his age and wearing a dress.

"This is my doll." His father turned to face him, passing him a plate of toast. "Sometimes he needs help eating, but you should be OK today, shouldn't you?" Oscar nodded, his pink eyes regarding the strange with a mixture of fear and awe. Why was this man in his room? "My doll, this here is Jamie. I have to go away for two nights, so he'll be the one feeding you and giving you a bath tomorrow. I know you don't like strangers, but I promise you he is a very nice man."

Oscar nodded slightly, but shuddered anyway. The thought of a stranger looking after him with his father not in the house scared him. He nibbled on a piece of toast as his father showed the young man the bathroom and other things he might need to care for Oscar. "Sometimes he's too weak to breathe, so you have to hook him up to this machine here. And sometimes he can't make it to the toilet, that's what this bucket is for."

Oscar couldn't help but to notice how Jamie was dressed. The skirt was very short and he was certain that the young man wasn't wearing underwear. It made him slightly curious, but he asked no questions. Not in front of his father anyway.

When the door opened, he wasn't sure what he expected. A real doll? A harem of young men like him, ripe for the picking? Jamie's knees went a bit weak as he was ushered into the room of a young man, possibly his age, or at least a year younger or older, and he put a hand to his mouth. A prisoner? An invalid? He looked like an albino. Perhaps he was. Or did his father---was this his father?---dye his hair white? He tore his eyes away from the young man and made sure to obey Day's words and wishes. He was being trusted with a living human that was obviously very ill, or very weak, or perhaps simply both, and he didn't want to harm him. He didn't want to know what Day would do if he failed. He'd never seen the man angry, and didn't expect to. Ever.

When Day turned to him, Jamie straightened up and clasped his hands in front of him. "Are we clear on your duties?" He asked sternly.

"Yes, Sir." Jamie said with a bow. "Perfectly clear."

Day nodded. "Very good. You will be taking the room next door---your weekend will be spent here, until I return."

Jamie breathed in. He hated this house. Wonderfully built and sprawling though it was it felt filthy. And now, this. This... human in doll clothing. Just like Jamie. It felt like a haunted mansion, spying with eyes in every wall. And he had to stay here. Sleep. "Yes... sir..." Jamie murmured.

Frank smiled, glancing over at Oscar as they left the room. He pulled out his ring of many keys and locked his doll in. He then carefully took the key off the ring and handed it to Jamie. "I keep the door locked for his safety and security. He feels better knowing no one can just walk into the room with him." This was a lie, but he was certain Jamie wouldn't question it. Oscar was far too weak to try and run, anyway. "Have you got any questions?"

He led Jamie to the room he would sleep in for two nights. It was plain but homely and Frank hoped the young man would like it.

Jamie shook his head when he was handed the key. He doubted his actual questions would be answered and he had none that he felt comfortable asking. Namely among the questions was, 'Why the hell do you dress him up like a doll?' And why he calls his apparent son his 'doll' in the first place. Obviously he was a pervert but it extended to his son too. That made Jamie's head swim as he was led to the room over. He stepped in carefully, looking around. Dark red carpet, brown walls, a four-poster bed in the corner of the room. A bookcase, a desk, two red chairs. Two doors, one was open to a bathroom and the other he assumed was a closet.

Jamie tentatively entered, looking around carefully. He felt almost... watched. Were there cameras here? He didn't risk looking for any in front of Day. "How do you like it?" Day asked suddenly, and Jamie turned, catching his eye.

"Um... wonderful, Sir. I love it." Jamie offered a smile and Day looked past him.

"Ah... looks like I forgot to pick a book up..." He nodded to the far end of the room, under one of the two windows. "Mind getting that for me, love?"

Jamie swallowed hard, but turned and stepped carefully across the room. Anything for a show, he was sure. He bent low at the waist and picked up the leatherbound copy of To Kill a Mockingbird, setting it on the windowsill. "Good..." He heard Day speak quietly, then retreat. Jamie sighed, closing his eyes.

Frank retreated to his office, to lock everything up he didn't want Jamie seeing if he went snooping. He then went to his own room, a large one with a big bed and a bay window over looking the beautiful grounds he had. He found his suitcase and started packing, wondering what Jamie was up to. He couldn't stop thinking about the young man, his days were often preoccupied with perverted plans on what he wanted to do to Jamie. He planned to do them soon enough, maybe even after his trip.

He called for Jamie to help with his suitcase, watching the young man bend over to pick up the heavy bag and holding his breath. His hands itched and longed to grab his ass, but he resisted, storing away the sight for later use. He walked out to his garage, helping Jamie place the suitcase into one of his cars. He smiled and couldn't stop himself placing a quick kiss on the young man's cheek. Winking, he got into the car. "Behave yourself."

Every final moment he was in Day's presence felt like a warm, heavy blanket against his skin. His green eyes were like weights, and he seemed to crackle with energy, suppressed urges, just barely crawling under the surface. Jamie was glad when he was able to get rid of the suitcase, and when Day kissed his cheek Jamie's breath caught in his throat. The rules hadn't said anything about that. Day had never even let himself come close. Or had he? Sometimes Day would rub his cheek against Jamie's hair, get close enough to press against him, press him just slightly into whatever he was currently facing. But never a kiss. He suppressed a shudder and nodded in response, not trusting himself to speak as Day smiled and began driving away. Down the drive, then out the front gates. He breathed out a shaky "Oooh..." and turned, hurrying back into the house.

Damned uniform. He looked around carefully. Day wasn't a paranoid type. In fact, he barely thought about locking his windows and only seemed paranoid when Jamie approached certain locked doors. So he had no cameras in the house. Without hesitating, Jamie ripped the clothes off, shucked his shoes and socks, the gloves, and piled them all into his arms. He left the shoes by the door as he walked back up the stairs completely naked, preferring that to the embarrassing dress.

Oscar sighed and stared up at the white ceiling of his room, letting himself be whisked away from his boring existence to a fantasy world of his own creation. In this place, he was the wise and noble ruler of a kingdom at war against an evil dragon. On top his head he wore a crown made from silver and sapphires, and his clothes were made from the finest white silk. His missing hand had been replaced with a robotic hand, given to him by the kingdom's technomancer.

Today his throne room was silent, many people bowing their heads in respect to the passing of a great fighter. A giant red bear that wielded a sword made of fire, had fought for the kingdom for many years. But yesterday, he had to sacrifice his life to protect Oscar. Everyone was mourning and Oscar felt mad. Why had he decided to lock the doors to the village? Oscar could have fought with him, and saved everyone. He guessed Ted had other things planned. And Oscar was the one that would eventually finish off the dragon.

Jamie deposited his clothing on the bed and went into the bathroom, closing and locking the door out of habit when he was here. Here, even quick trips to the bathroom were rather nerve-wracking. But now he had to sleep here. Here, with strong, capable men working outside, knowing that Day was gone for the weekend, possibly knowing that Jamie was alone inside the house. He shook as he turned the shower on and slipped inside, closing up the glass pane and leaning against the cool tile wall as it dampened with steam. He was alone. Caring for... a sick man. He'd never been a caretaker. Never in his life. Now he was being trusted with a young man that could barely get out of bed? Dressed up like a doll, actually called a doll? It made him feel sick, but there was nothing... illegal about it. Nothing wrong. He seemed to be okay, the... the 'doll'.

Jamie released his hair and scrubbed it, feeling filthy, the same way he felt at the end of every day. Now it seemed to cling to him like cellophane. Giving up before he rubbed his skin raw, Jamie got out and dried off, staring at himself in the mirror. He looked... sad. Turning away, he bent down to rub the water off his legs, and stepped out into his room. He wanted to visit the young man, but couldn't do it naked. And all he had to wear was that dress... He sighed, resigning himself to having to wear that awful getup until he could go home and finally feel like a male again, and slipped it on. Then he grabbed the key he'd been given and started down the all.

Oscar blinked as his princess approached him, carrying the fiery sword of Ted. Yes, even though it was custom to bury warriors with their swords, this one was the only weapon that could destroy the dragon. He nodded his head, reaching out and grabbing the warm hilt. He felt every warrior that had held the weapon before him, he felt Ted's spirit coursing through his veins. He would destroy the dragon and bring peace to his kingdom once and for all. He stood and rose the sword high, a bright golden light pouring from it and engulfing him as he said his oath out loud.

Footsteps approaching his room made him blink out of his fantasy and stare down at the toast he held in his hands. He had to finish eating, even though his stomach still felt as though it was on fire. He had no idea what Jamie was like, if the young man would get mad at him like his father did some days.

Jamie nervously rubbed his hand through his hair, making it more wild than it was before, and unlocked the door. Why he had to be locked in was a mystery to him, because the gate that surrounded the house was so tall and always locked in the evenings. Jamie was always escorted out and the gates were always locked when he was on the sidewalk outside. He turned the key again, and slid it into the small pocket under the apron of his skirt, and slowly opened the door. He had to swallow hard before he peered in, a bit unnerved still to see a human so dressed up like a little doll---just like him, like Jamie---and breathed out to steady himself.

"Um... Hi..." He waved slightly, slipping inside and remaining stuck to the wall behind him. "Um... I'm... Well, you know me... Are... are you... doing okay?" The idea that the young man sometimes stopped breathing entirely had Jamie very nervous. Nervous to be watching over him for two days without Day around. Day knew what to do, and Jamie might panic.

The sight of the stranger in the maid dress made him freeze. He didn't know how to feel or how to reply to the man. He frowned and put the toast down, staring blankly at him for a long time. "My tummy still hurts." His voice was quiet, like always. He cautiously watched the young man, Jamie his name was. What was he doing in his room? Didn't his father tell Jamie he didn't have to be in here all the time? Maybe he was bored.

"Why are you wearing a dress?" he asked, his voice barely loud enough to understand.

Jamie pulled a face, something between sad and pained, and pushed the door closed behind him. "That's no good..." He muttered, feeling terribly awkward all the way, but he pushed forward nonetheless. Walking forward, he was quiet on bare feet, until he stepped up to the foot of the bed and knelt on the floor.

He reddened and looked down, picking at the sleeves that covered half his arms. "Um... Well, I... your father... asks me to... while I work... So I do..." He shrugged awkwardly, grimacing and running his hand through his wild hair. "It's, um, not really what I make a habit of wearing..." In fact, he stayed well away from anything with frills or ruffles, and wore silk at night because it was smooth and cool. The only thing close to revealing he wore on a daily basis away from work was the several pairs of knee-length shorts he wore while swimming or during summer.