Ramblings of a Writer Blog

Zeke, Brax, Case: Christmas Card Photos

“Whose fucking idea was this?”

I still couldn’t believe they’d talked me into this nonsense.

“You look fantastic,” the cowboy said, smiling at me like I was some sort of fucking male model.

“You do look damn fine,” the pretty boy agreed.

I glanced in the mirror, buttoning the suit jacket. They were right. I looked damn fine dressed in a three piece suit, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. And I damn sure didn’t have to like the fact my fuck toys talked me into getting photos taken for Christmas cards. Seriously. Who the fuck did that?

I still recalled the day Brax made the suggestion. The cowboy had gone so far as to make a fantastic dinner, but no sooner had we sat down to eat did he mention having someone take professional photos for this year’s Christmas card. Considering we hadn’t done last year’s Christmas card, I was taken by surprise.

Of course, Case found the idea amusing, so the pretty boy jumped right on board with the plan.

Needless to say, I’d made them work for it. The pretty boy had spent a couple of hours secured to the wall while the cowboy had gotten intimately acquainted with the new vibrator attachment for the fucking machine. Neither of them had complained. Not one single time.

“When will the photographer be here?” I asked, looking at the pretty boy in the mirror.

Case looked at his watch. “Any minute now.”

“Which means we need to get dressed,” the cowboy said.

I smiled at Brax, turning to face them both. “You are dressed.”

They both instantly frowned. “What?”

I nodded toward them. They were both naked, save for the cock cages they wore at night. “That’s exactly what you’ll wear on the Christmas card.”

The cowboy’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

I lifted my eyebrows and stared him down. Obviously he’d gotten a little too comfortable since he felt it was okay to toss comments like that my way.

“Would you prefer the dog costume?”

He instantly shook his head. “No, Zeke.”

That was more like it.

I started for the door, but glanced back at my fuck toys. “I sure hope your photographer doesn’t have delicate sensibilities.”

The gasp I heard from them made me smile as I headed downstairs.

​If they wanted photos, I was going to ensure they were memorable.

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