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Ctirad stood while his Owner walked around him.  He found that he had closed his eyes and settled into a waiting position. It was comfortable.  It was more than comfortable; it was pleasing. He liked being here like this.  He liked waiting for what Timaios would do to him.

That was new.  So much about all of this was new, but that was definitely a novel sensation.  He liked it, he realized; more than liked it, he was looking forward to more of it.

A hand brushed over his ass and he shivered.  “I want to show you off. Here, come with me and we will dress you in your new clothes.”

“They’re here already?”  He didn’t open his eyes, but there was a hand on his collar and that was enough to move with.

He moved to the tug slowly, comfortably, not trying to feel where things were.  He had been punished, before, for not trusting the leash; now he actually trusted the hand guiding him.  Out of the room, he was fairly sure, and into a room he hadn’t been in yet.

“Just a few outfits.  The rest will show up in the next few days.  Hands loose at your sides, please.”

He dropped his hands loosely to his sides, eyes still closed – he didn’t know why, but he liked it – and waited.

“Now, let’s see.  It’s going to be an informal affair, so to speak, but I am Tim Kaprinksi, or at least I play him on TV, so we have certain appearances to keep up. So, I think…”  Something pressed at the back of Ctirad’s knees. “Here, sit. You may be short, my lovely kitten, but you are still going to be easier to dress this way.”

Ctirad sat, of course, feeling warmth coming to his cheeks.  Dress.  Timaios really meant to play Ken-doll with him.  He – He was going to not only pick his outfit but –

“Arms up.”

He lifted his arms.  Nobody had ever dressed him – not since he was an infant, he supposed, but this felt absolutely nothing like that.  It felt-

It felt like being his doll.

And he loved it.

The shirt slithered over his arms, pushed over his head, and was smoothed down onto his torso.  Timaios smoothed his hands over Ctirad’s chest and back perhaps a little longer than he needed to, until Ctirad’s nipples were hard – and they were definitely not alone in that sensation.

“Arms down, lift your ass off the seat for me.”

It was a weird frission, hearing Timaios say ass.  He did as he was told, though, and a moment later the boxers were peeled off of him. “Good.  Down, now, for a moment.”

It took Ctirad a heartbeat to translate that order into what he thought he was actually supposed to do.  He settled his bare ass against the leather of the seat, feeling suddenly more exposed. He could open his eyes – he wasn’t being held by anything but his own whim.

He kept his eyes closed.

Socks.  Timaios was pulling socks onto his feet, patting his calf, moving on to the next sock.  And then – the pants felt luxurious, strange, against his legs. He didn’t need the order to lift his ass this time; he felt the pants being pulled up his legs.

“And… there.  I’ll button those up once I have your shoes on.”

The shoes felt a little weird, but it was only when Timaios ordered him to stand that Ctirad realized it was because they had a heel to them.  He was still short, but he wasn’t quite as ridiculously short now.

He only had a moment to think about shoes before Timaios was buttoning his pants, putting a belt on him, and buckling that closed, again with gestures smoothing down his pants, his shirt.  Then he ran both hands through Ctirad’s hair. “There. Now, I admit I just want to take you upstairs and undo all of this, but first, first we should do what we have to do with our day.”

“As-” He cleared his throat.  “As you wish, sir.”

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