If you haven't read "This Is Mine Now," stop here and read it. Or don't, but this story will make more sense if you do since it will provide some context for what's about to happen. As always, thanks for reading.
I woke up to an empty bed, stifled laughing, shushing, and one of the best smells on the planet: bacon.
I slowly got out of bed, went to the bathroom, put on a t-shirt and shorts, and went out into the living room.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey," Ben and Dillon responded.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the giant mess in the kitchen and what the guys were wearing. They were both dressed in their high school baseball uniforms, all the way down to their cleats.
I walked into the kitchen and said, "If it wasn't for the bacon, I might have something to say about the mess in here."
"Don't worry," Ben said, "We'll clean it up."
"The uniforms help," I said.
"We know you like this shit," Dillon said, "And we're wearing all of it, just for you."
He grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch to show me he was even wearing his cup.
"Not only that," Ben interjected, "But we might have forgotten to put on deodorant this morning after we shaved everything from our necks down," he finished with a smirk.
"Is it my birthday?" I asked ironically.
"You took care of us yesterday, so we're going to take care of you today," Ben said.
"Breakfast will be ready soon," Dillon said, "Go relax, and we'll let you know when to come to the table."
"I feel a little underdressed," I said, "Wanna come help me pick something?" I asked Dillon.
Ben shot me a look with a raised eyebrow.
"No fucking, I promise!" I said.
"I'll be quick," Dillon said, "I already have something in mind."
He gave Ben a quick kiss and took me by the hand and said, "Come on," as he lead me into the bedroom.
He opened the top drawer of my dresser where he had put some of his things and handed me a pair of mismatched socks.
"You, too?" I asked. "I thought Ben was the only one who did this."
"They're just socks, and I'm the only one who looks at them. Unless my feet are on your face now, apparently," Dillon said with a grin.
He handed me a pair of long black and white neoprene shorts that tied in the front with a pouch for my junk and a zipper that went up the back. He opened the closet and got a black and white compression t-shirt, and handed everything to me.
"Hurry, get dressed. There's more," Dillon said quickly.
I got naked and got dressed quickly. The shorts came to just above my knee, and the shirt felt like it was almost a size too small. Dillon helped me pull it down and tucked it into the shorts, letting his hands wander a bit.
"Mmm," he said.
"I promised no fucking. Face fucking counts!" I said.
"Ugh, fine," he said resignedly, "Socks."
I sat at the foot of the bed to put the socks on, and he grabbed a pair of Dr. Marten boots he brought with him.
"I'm pretty sure we're the same size. Try these on," he said as he handed the boots to me.
I set them down and put one of the boots on. It was nicely broken in, and I could feel where each of his toes had worn down a groove in the lining of the footbed.
"Like a glove," I said.
"Hot," Dillon said.
I put on the other boot and stood up.
"One more thing," Dillon said.
He grabbed the leather harness he was wearing the day before and started to put it on me. He adjusted the buckles and smoothed the shirt under the harness.
"Turn around," he said.
I turned for him, and he slapped my ass.
"Perfect," he said, "Let's go show your cousin."
We walked out into the living room, and Ben looked at me and stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.
"You never dress up for me," Ben said, a little hurt in his voice.
"You never dress me," I said, "I'm not opposed, and you know I can't say no to you unless you're trying to put Mr. Meat inside me. I can't help it if you're too big for me."
"Fine," Ben said, "I'll hold you to that."
"It smells fantastic in here. Let's eat!" I said.
We sat down, ate, and talked about what kind of trouble we could get up to that day and the coming week.
After we finished eating, we all pitched in to clean up the kitchen, and then we went back into the living room.
"So, what do you guys want to do today?" I asked.
"Getting out of these cages would be nice," Ben said as he tugged at his crotch.
"I've been thinking about that," I said, "it hardly seems fair that I get to do all the fucking. I need a break, and sometimes I just want to watch."
"Okay, so you'll unlock us?" Dillon sat up eagerly.
"Hah, not that easy," I said, "There's a box under my bed that I've been saving for a special occasion. I'm not going to tell you what's in it, but I'll tell you what. Rock, paper, scissors. Best three out of five will change into it, and stay in it for 24 hours, and if he can stay fully dressed in it for 24 hours, he can get unlocked for the next 24 hours. Or, if one of you is too chicken to take the risk, the other one can just volunteer. Take some time to think about it."
After a few minutes of deliberation, they decided to leave it to chance and went for rock, paper, scissors. Dillon ended up winning in the fifth round after being tied four-to-four.
"All right," I said, "Go get the box out from under my bed and bring it out here. No peaking!"
Dillon jumped up and came back out carrying a big box and set it down on the coffee table.
"Before you open the box, you have to wear EVERYTHING that's in the box for the full 24 hours, or it doesn't count," I said. "After that, you get unlocked for 24 hours, and you can do whatever you want to whomever you want."
"Yeah, okay. I got it," Dillon said impatiently.
"I'm sure you think you do, but okay, go for it," I said.
Dillon opened the box, and the look on his face went from confusion to horror as he began to pull out the clothes and shoes that were in there.
"You want me to dress like a chick?" Dillon asked in disbelief.
"Only if you want to get unlocked. You can give up your chance to Ben if you don't want to put it on," I said with a smirk.
"I'll do it!" Ben said eagerly.
"Ugh, fine!" Dillon said, "I'll put it on."
"Shoes, too." I reminded him.
"How am I going to walk in these?" he asked as he held up the six-inch stripper heels.
"They have a block heel," I said, "I'm sure you'll be fine. You'll probably be on your knees or on your back most of the time, anyway."