AN: If you maybe wanna commission me, please PM me
Pyrrha's Darling Cross
"Stay with me my darling…" The redhead told him, as she slid her tender digit down the angular sharpness of his chiselled jaw. His lips were trembling, the tongue inside still awash with her wetness from when she had them to her cunt. "You look so supremely gorgeous, my cross…" She reminded him, before pulling him in for an invasion of his mouth.
Pyrrha had his wrapped totally around her finger, holding him in the places that made him shudder so much. The play had been done, his mouth suffocated by the confines of her dripping folds as she forced him to eat her out, and then earlier so when she strapped the softball of her gag into his mouth and edged him so relentlessly in the frilliness of his beautifully new petticoat and skirt. He adored it, the blue gloriously accented his sublime golden hair and amplified the youthfulness of the blue of his eyes. It suited Jaune Arc splendidly, as Pyrrha precisely predicted.
She loved treating him like this… Her darling cross. Her beautiful, sublime crossdressing faithful, so loyal and the most obedient stunted stud she could hope to hold in her comfy shackled and to hold close in the night.
And Jaune, submissive and so complicit with anything she could want him, ask him, even order him, was genuinely perfect to suit her needs. For she was essentially a goddess, untouchable, so swimming in malice and gentle, but also so surely rough. Arc felt often just how rough she could be when she wore him out, spanking his juicy rear until it was so red he dared not sit down. On those nights, his redheaded goddess, in her own show of lingerie, would dress him in more dresses, occasionally a corset if he was lucky and asked her so nicely, to hold him on her succulent lap. But for how, Jaune Arc purred for his beautiful and dominant goddess, so thankful for the new petticoat and gown draping his flesh, covering him in femininity that he loved so much.
Made all the better, with the plastic prison clasped lovingly around his nether stick.
"Are you with me? My beautiful cross?" Pyrrha asked of Jaune, as he held onto her for dear life in their cuddles of aftercare, rustling his skirt and wrapping his feeble arms around her neck in a cradle. She stroked his jawline again, her other hand draping down his full chest loosely, dipping into his bra and cupping his breast, giving him a warm and beauteous squeeze. Such a beautiful cross… You look gorgeous in your new dress, my cross… Do you like it?" She asked of him, holding his neck a little, nor firmly by any imagination - but with a loving hold, as she still cupped his flat breast, folding his already hardened nipple between her dainty fingers.
She loved how he always wore a bra for her, as well as the most gorgeous of lace panties, that which held his below average prick cutely. For her, he was a perfect size - for penetration, she would bestow a latex extension upon him.
Jaune gasped, clutching to her in the hugs he needed after an intense round of play. His rear stung with the snap of the spanks she torrented to his cheeks hours ago. His caged cock was almost still whimpering from when he had come, an explosion of semen all over the floor - she had asked him politely to clean it before aftercare was considered and he had held up his end, with cleaner and a cloth. He held her closer, as close as she would let him, and the redhead goddess removed her grasp from his heaving through to trail her fingers down his beautiful dress front and around. She reached behind him, patting down the overskirt and his amazing new petticoat (that Pyrrha had bought for him), stroking his rump.
"Does it still hurt my sweet?" She checked, upon no answer from her previous question. As much as she had tossed him around, spanked him relentlessly to drive out her stress and feelings of otherwise peacefulness, taken her vastly thick cock to his rear, prodding him enough to get slick movement with the schlong, she still cared for him afterwards to the best of her ability.
Again there came only a small amount of whimpering and another tight squeeze as his mistress from Jaune as his only answer. He just wanted to feel her around him, taking him whole and surrounding him with her lustful presence and amorous aroma.
"Joan… Answer me, please… Are you okay? Does your rear hurt?" Pyrrha asked, using the name she loved to use on him - his cross name, for when he was super into his subspace and loved being named like a girl. Loved being a girl for her. It was his ultimate want.
Jaune held her closer and breathed meekly. "It stings a little… Goddess… Could you… Rub it, please? Please?" He asked of her shamefully, feeling pathetic for asking for more rubs of his succulent and red, raw rear. It was so so red, rose from the half hour solid of Pyrrha spanking him - a lot longer than her usual time of flogging him. And she had elevated the whole time with him, taking the punishment of his rump further.
As she reached under the gown of the adorable dress that clothed him, she recalled her massive bout of tolling pleasure and pain to his ass. Remembering how much she had spanked him and punished his beautiful rear, licking his rimmed and glazed hole between his cheeks and otherwise fulfilling him with a sweet feeling. She loved his ass, loved playing with it as she saw fit. And she had had her fetish and beautiful play.
Pyrrha had plugged him with one of their biggest anal stoppers, making him gape while she coaxed delicious moans from his harlot mouth. He stretched so well for her, much better than usual, his ass must have sensed how much she wanted to push him, to train him and pleasure him. She could tell the butt plug brought him so much peace by how much he blushed. She loved for Jaune's, Joan's, blush when she stretched him, made him gape. He had such elasticity in him, something to be proud of, but he was so modest and bashful about his greedy hole.
One day, as Pyrrha had predicted, even suggested, she'd try to fist him, the mere thought of it made her pussy wet as she held him close to her body, still fondling his chest and rubbing his cheeks leisurely to comfort him.
"Does that feel better, my cross?" She asked of him, continuing to address him as that - her crossdresser, her beautiful and feminine boy. She was feeling teaseful a little the more she stroked and rubbed his adorable and peachy rear.
Jaune nodded and kissed her collarbone, the most daring thing he would do as deep as he was in his subspace. She was a little surprised he was still plunged this far into that headspace.
Pyrrha kissed his forehead, and gave his rear a light tap, to let him know she was still playful and felt like toying with him in any way she wished. She was half tempted to finger his hole some more, to ruffle in anal feathers with two slender fingers and a beautiful rub of his anal crevasse. From how close he was meekly holding her to him, Pyrrha deduced that it would be evil to disturb him with some more anal play, especially when he probably felt worn out from the intense rutting she had penetrated him with. Still, she wanted some fun of her own at least for the moment.
"Joan… my darling cross… Could you pass me my vibrator, darling?" She asked of him, rubbing his cheeks some more and holding his dressed hip. He suited this blue and white dress so well, the golden sheen of his ruff of hair catching the white perfectly even in the dim light of the twilight. She wanted something at her folds, even as they leaked a little the more and more she recalled of their session and scene.
The redhead remembered that she had orgasmed three times from very little, just by punishing Jaune and pumping his ass full of toys as he chewed on the ball gag she strapped around his mouth.
It had been such an expert purchase for her, as well as the array of anal stoppers she had collated over the months she'd been training the blonde to be hers. That was a project more stunning to her than any - whipping him into shape from the sorry excuse for a boy when she had first met him, into an obedient and loving, crossdressing trophy of a partner. When she took him out, Jaune passing for a girl so perfectly with the golden wig and other trappings of femininity, she could not help but feel her own beauteous chin rise in pride. He had been sculpted into a cross of much treasure to her. The best she had had yet.
Her friends were green of course, whenever they saw her prancing around with Jaune on her arm, his body plastered with lavish dresses and looking like he had never been happier.
The blonde reached behind him almost painfully that he had to remove an arm from her, and grabbed her compact and useful piece of gear, the swollen head that would slip inside of her still gleaming from when she had been soaking it earlier when she had it in her folded entrance. It was the probe to regulate her lotus, and her asking him to fetch it for her, was yet another dominant reminder that this small toy pleased her pussy with pleasure more than his caged cock could. Yet Jaune could not be more content and happy with this fact of his cross-dressing life. For Jaune, even being a toy, a sleeve for Pyrrha plethora of silicone cocks and dildos was such an achievement in his life. He loved his position too much to resent any part of it that could have been considered taboo or weak of him as a man.
He did not want to be a man, he wanted to be himself, whatever that was. He wanted to be Pyrrha's and what she wanted him to be, which was this submissive, stunted stud, who could crossdress at almost all times for her and pass for a beautiful girl. Jaune was achieving that and then some, and he loved it.
Pyrrha flicked on the vibrator and slipped it between her juicy lower lips, taking it pleasantly inside of herself and warming to the buzzing contained in her now. She gave herself a stretch and sighed into her round of vibrations, holding Jaune close and lavishing him with cuddles and kisses all over his beautiful face. The makeup all over him made her smile and even prouder of how scrumptious he looked to her. So beautiful, so gorgeous. He may as well have been born a girl, it would have skirted the wasted flesh and hormones. He suited a woman better, Pyrrha thought, even with his frame and trace amounts of masculinity, his curves suited his dress and petticoat, and his chest looked prime for a well-rounded set of breasts.
She wished he had breasts, but even his flat chest and perky nippled made do when her hands dove into his dress again to feel him.
"Dust, my cross, you're such a beautiful specimen, aren't you dear?" She asked, feeling so warm at her full and bountiful chest. She realised now he was resting right between them, and only now with the vibrating probe in her pussy, did she feel them, her own nipples hardening a little as she shuffled and rubbed her thighs together.
She held him so close. "Say it, my dear, say it please…" She asked of him.
Jaune blushed a lot more, looking up from between her amazing breasts so eye her emerald orbs with his of blue, the blue of his dress glowing in the dark almost. He looked so meek and she so powerful and completely in control, even to his very articles of clothing, all with his blessed consent and enthusiasm, or else this simply be not practice, but abuse. Pyrrha vowed to him that she would never abuse him or his love for what they were doing. She loved it and him alike, and wanted her darling cross to only ever feel safe with her, and an overwhelming feeling of pure love.
He eyed her and puckered for a kiss, which she granted, holding him close to her chest and heart, and wrapping her legs around his tight waist. The petticoat was perfect for him, she loved it on him, and he too.
Jaune Arc said it for her, just what she wanted to hear, what she always loved to hear.
"I'm yours, goddess, I'm your crossdressing faithful, for you to do with as you please. Pleasure and pain, all I want are to forever be your loyal cross, your arm piece and trophy partner… I am your belonging." He told her, with the same conviction as when he first told her it.
With a strained moan and clawing fingernails at his back, raking down him, Pyrrha oozed with a glorious moan, and reached her fourth climax of the night, feeling it be the best between her sublime legs.
Pyrrha leaned him, kissed her cross, and held him closer still.