Pâte à Torte & Choux
Content & Themes: Threesome, Light Bondage, BDSM Dynamics, Consensual Forcefemme, Clothing Fetish (as per usual)
"Canelé, a friend. No. Hm." Torte stops. And starts again. "Canelé, one of my partners, would like to swing by."
"Sure."
Torte stiffens into the couch and tugs at their choker. Choux has never seen his roommate twitching their tail so nervously.
"She'd like to meet you."
"Yeah, sure."
Choux would really like to turn the TV off but it would only serve to make this more uncomfortable. They both sit awkwardly in the pinkish tv glow of a lingerie ad.
"She's gonna take a liking to you. Usually I'd have gone to her place. Considering our circumstances though I thought it might be ok to invite her over."
"Sure."
Torte finally whips up some resolve. "We are planning to have sex."
"That's fine. We already talked about this, I know you have other partners. I don't mind. Gimme the signal and I'll head out to a coffeeshop or something."
Torte sighs. "I'm trying to invite you to a threesome and you're not taking the hint."
"o-OH! Yes. Yes please." Choux stumbles over himself. "I don't mind.. Even just watching you fuck her. That would still. I would still like that. And-" Torte stops him.
"Gawsh, no, Choux, Canelé is my domme! We do, different stuff." Choux notes the hesitance in their voice. Interesting. Also somewhat terrifying. He wanted so desperately to ask what that could possibly mean.
No matter.
"She's going to stay the night?"
Choux and Torte "relax" on the couch. Not at all relaxing for Choux. The anxiety of - someone is coming over to fuck me and I don't even know her yet - has rent a hole in his stomach.
Torte insists there isn't much to do to prep for their 'friend's' arrival (as she always did) but Choux knows otherwise (as he always did). Stock the fridge, sweep up, take the trash out, make the bed at the very least. Their bed. The bedtime cuddling was simply too nice and too frequent to maintain the whole separate bedroom thing. Though Torte insisted the venture was to convert the bedroom to the much needed craft/hobby/office, they both knew.
Pragmatic as always, Torte put a hard stop on lighting candles or anything else to truly make it nice as Choux wanted; they were simply too utilitarian to care much for the ancillary romantic gestures. Ah well.
Time passes. Nervousness grows. Choux's stomach has spun enough to do an entire load of laundry. They lie on the couch barely watching cartoons until the silence is punctuated by an uncharacteristically default ringtone from Torte's phone. Choux tries to recall if he has ever heard it before.
She answers. "Yeah lemme get the door."
With a flip of the lock and a turn of the handle, the duo's sex partner practically bursts through the doorway into a hug with Torte.
"I hope it wasn't much trouble getting here?" Torte asks through choked breaths.
"Shit, dude, the wand turned on in the train and I had to scramble to turn it off." The stranger grasps Torte by the shoulders and laughs. "Otherwise fine."
Choux looks her over as they cross the door threshold. Soft pointed ears, thick brows and warm black eyes. A face framed with messy curls to one side, with a smattering of neat ringlets. Leggings, a loose tee with a bra strap (nicely) visible, and a black denim bomber jacket. The glint of small septum ring too.
Wait.
WAND. As in Magic Wand.
Woof.
Alright, they were really doing this.
"So is this the boy you've been telling me about? He is cute." She maybe catches him staring. "What's the deal, does he want in on the scene?"
"Yeah, I think so." Torte giggles. "He said yes at least."
With a light toss, Canelé deposits her bag on the sofa cushions and she and Torte both settle into the couch together. There is discussion of the bakery (Canelé's job), how the new signage and menus are working out, successes and failures with a new croissant recipe, the Lovely♡Treat cosplay Torte has sewing together for ages. They talk like old friends do in retirement.
Choux more closely studies his impending lover. She looks tired as all hell and wears it in her face. Somehow she still has this boundless energy to keep up with Torte. The overhead lighting of the den reveals a few grey hairs in her red coat he wouldn't notice otherwise. But damn is she attractive. Through her leggings, he notes soft thighs and hips. Something between love handles and a pudgy tummy and a pair of perky breasts round out her torso. It's not so much her figure that's so attractive to him but her very deserved confidence that-
Canelé turns to address him. "And you have a new ~roommate~ now huh." Canelé turns to Choux.
Choux could not determine whether he did or did not like the way she spun 'roommate'. He looks toward Torte with concerned eyes.
"Yes yes, I know the broad strokes." She says. "No strings sex whenever ya'll want and a split mortgage and utility bill. Sounds like a life of blissful domesticity to me. But what the fuck do I know."
She sighs whistfully and hefts herself back into the couch. "Really, I'd kill for what ya got together. With the bakery and all I don't have time for the nice cuddly lovers stuff." She pats her duffel in some kind of affirmation.
"Lot easier to say 'Hey. Wanna get tied up? I only have three hours.' Hell as a transfemme domme - people seem to trip over themselves for the opportunity." She narrows her expression into a toothy smile and accusatorially looks to Torte. They shift their gaze away to not meet her eyes and wolfish grin. Choux catches them blushing.
Canelé stands. "Anyway, you wanna get to it, get some dinner after? We gotta get this one to fill out his paperwork first." Canelé unzips and reaches into her bag, produces a file folder and hands it to Choux. Her eyes narrow and she puts on a sallow expression. "Alright serious time for a sec. You haven't filled out one of these before right?" She flips open the folder and hands it off.
Before him is a spreadsheet: list of kinks, fantasies and sex acts on the left with a blank box next to each on the right. At the top is a space for his name. On the backside there are some fill-in-the-blanks and open ended questions too.
She addresses him again in that serious tone. "This is a yes, no, maybe list. Fill this out in what way you feel comfortable. Things you are excited to do, a yes, what you have some hesitance with but are interested, maybe. Things absolutely off the table, no. We will share ours afterward." She pauses. "You got it?"
Choux thumbs at the page for a moment. "Yeah I think so." Whats a little homework before a threesome?
Torte and Canelé meander to the kitchen to leave Choux to his toil.
It feels quite strange to Choux to render his fantasies so tangible on a flimsy computer printout. 'Non penetrative sex'. Check. 'Penetrative sex - Giving' Maybe. With Torte yes of course. He writes in parenthesis '(yes with Torte)'. 'Penetrative sex - receiving' Hm. He scrawls a 'maybe' in the associated box. Usually he'd let these ideas slip through his mind fleetingly. Usually while masturbating. He hears the rattle of the cocktail shaker amongst the chitchat in the kitchen.
'Crossdressing' - yes. He doesn't need to think about that one. He crosses out his 'yes' and writes 'Necessary'. 'Gender play' yes, yes. 'Shibari' - Hm. being bound has always intrigued him. A little scary yes. Not that he hadn't loved any illustrations of it he'd seen. Or jerked off to that one video hundreds of times. He shakily writes 'Yes'. 'Shackles', 'cuffs'? Much the same. Yes.
Torte sidles up close to him, highball in hand. "You want us to make you anything?" She swirls the contents of her vodka cran with her straw. "Yalright?"
They present their drink to Choux and he takes a sip.
"Fine."
Even when they put on such a deadpan expression, Choux could read the excitement in their face as she sneaks a peak at his printout.
"Just fine."
"Ok, let me know!" With that they return to the kitchen.
The open ended questions are the portion that truly perplexes him. 'What do I want in a lover?' Hell if he knew. He writes 'someone who understands me'. What's more to it than that? 'What is sex?' Another stumper. Well maybe not. 'Shared pleasure and comfort with another'. He corrects it. 'Shared pleasure and comfort with another(s)'. 'What would you like to do for aftercare?' - easiest question on the sheet. 'Cuddle in bed.'
He reviews all of his answers and amends a couple; recipe complete.
"I'm done. I think at least." Choux announces to the kitchen staff. The two break pace in their chatter.
Torte ushers them into the bedroom and they gather in a circle on the bed. Torte secures the proffered paperwork from Choux and gets to reading immediately.
Canelé stops them. "What about ~yours~ pet."
Pet. Choux chews on that for a moment.
"Oh yeah!" They hand back the sheet to Canelé and bound out of the room. Canelé gives a little sigh, reaches into her bag and hands him her own yes/no/maybe list. It's tattered and crumpled and stained in places. He's unsurprised to see yes-es and maybe-s next to nearly every activity except for some of the most extreme. Or at least what he considers as such.
Her open endeds leave less to the imagination. She wants 'Someone devoid of judgement' in a lover, describes sex as 'Exploration of shared desire' and would like to 'Tend to my (her) partner' for aftercare. He can't tell if this is a revealing peak behind the curtain or Canelé has integrated all these ingredients into herself.
He looks into her eyes and sees a less intimidating dog. More pangs of 'this woman is gonna fuck me' wash over him. His stomach churns. She is really studying his sheet meticulously though, line by line. It comforts him.
Torte returns with her yeses, nos and maybes. "Sorry! Forgot where I put it."
Choux reads thru with bated breath.
"Watersports? Pee? Really?"
"Hey hey no judgements mister 'I'm clearly also very into bondage but never told my partner about it.' I can't do shibari like Canelé but we could have already been doing something about that."
"Sh." Canelé breaks the tousle up. Her scant wielded serious voice could silence the rowdiest of kitchens. "Ya'll are gonna be adults about this." Torte glows a blood red.
"Sorry, I never would have expected. I just didn't know, is all. Sorry."
They all take a moment to compose themselves.
Canelè finishes up reading Choux's list and scoots next to him to brush up on Torte's sheet as well while he reads. His nose is graced with her perfume, couldn't possibly be just her scent, for the first time: a mixture of orange peel, vanilla and honey. Not sweet though. Peculiar.
Torte is a yes on every kind of bondage listed, yes on the watersports (no judgements this time), consensual non consent, no judgements NO JUDGEMENTS, but woof he's going to have trouble fulfilling that one himself. Also yes on plugs, dildos, they had tried those, waxplay (interesting). Big yes on receiving orders. Choux couldn't really say it brings anything else unexpected to light but it does serve to clarify a few things.
Pertaining to the matter of their open ended questions; they want 'Compassion' in a lover, describe sex as 'Connection', and 'Cuddling' for aftercare. Not far off base from his? Certainly regarding the cuddling. Torte finishes reading his sheet as well and begins purring softly in anticipation.
"Fore' I forget, lemme take my girl pills." Canelé clocks Choux perk up at the phrase. She pauses for a moment, watching him fidget as a wry smile trickles across her face. "Are you interested hun? I always have some extra on me. You can try if you'd like." Choux clams up. The flutter of realization hits him: this woman will make me a girl if I let her - and I want to let her.
Canelé rummages through her purse and produces a half full prescription bottle of baby blue pills.
"Ta-da!"
So flippant about his fate. His fate? Had he already reconciled all this?
"Is that it? Just pills? That's it? I could just take pills and be a girl?" Choux was dumbfounded by the simplicity. He immediately regrets laying this far-off fantasy of his bare to this near stranger. Canelé breaks him from his spiral.
"Pills, could be shots or gel or patch. I take pills." She cackles. "But HRT doesn't make you a girl. You decide to be a girl. Estrogen will just help you grow tits and an ass." She clasps Choux by the wrist and guides his hand from her knee up the side of her thigh. "Your thighs get huge too. and soft skin." She punctuates her hypothesis with another snicker. "Amongst other things. Maybe you'll see tonight if you're lucky~"
The sickly sweet timbre of Canelé's voice could drive Choux mad. She unscrews the cap from the translucent orange scrip bottle and shakes out a small handful of tablets into her paw, then replaces all but four of them back into the bottle.
"Four milligrams of 'E' isn't going to do much of anything for you if you take it ~once~. But try it on and see how it feels!" She lifts her salivating tongue performatively and places two of the pills on the pillowy tissue underneath. "Like thish." She lowers her tongue.
"Thish is your doesesh" She says, pointing at her slobbering mouth. "You want it, come get it." Choux must have been silent a bit too long. He wouldn't know, his whole being had turned to mush. He was putty, a plaything. Moldable into any image by this woman.
"I'm ashking you to kissh me you dummy."
That was enough to pull him into focus. He leans in - Exactly enough for Canelé to pull him in by the chin into her maw. With a flick of her tongue, onto his, she deposits the melting medication. Grainy. With a strange combination of sweet and salty; like salmiakki. Her soft tongue retracts. He maneuvers the pills dutifully under his tongue just as she had instructed. She pulls away, leaving a trail of saliva, a bridge between their lips. Canelé wipes it away with her paw.
"Good girl."
"Gir. L."
"Yes, girl. I presume after all that you want to play in the space yes?"
With that she takes the remaining two tablets and pops them into her mouth, candy style. "Alright, if we are doing a schene I would like to shower and schange into shomething nicesher than thish. Ya'll mind?" She gestures with her paw toward the bathroom.
Torte peeps up. "Of course!"
With that she grabs her bag and exits.
Choux sits in awe of what she(!) has just done.
"Sorry she's a little intense." Torte says "More than a little intense. If you wanna spit those out I won't tell." Choux shakes her(!) head. "Ah! well then." They chuckle. "How about us girls get dressed then too."