SkepHalo Collection Book

All Dolled Up [S]

| How have I not written anything with skirts yet smh my head

Warnings: slight feminization, overstim, dacryphilia, little bit of sadism
Type: Smut

Top: Bad
Bottom: Skeppy

Enjoy!! |

Sneaking the package in the house was the hardest part of all this.

Skeppy knew Bad would be busy streaming but there was always the off chance he would end and leave his room the exact moment Skeppy walked inside with the package.

And he would not be ready for the interrogation that would follow.

But, thankfully, he snuck inside and to his room without a hitch.

He made sure to lock his door before tearing into the package.

A canary yellow tennis skirt laid on his bed. White thigh highs with matching thigh garters next to it.

Skeppy hesitated with putting it on. What if he didn't like it?

He had bought the outfit for Bad. Skeppy made a mental note after one of their late night couch cuddle ramblings where Bad said he thought girly clothes were cute. The confession made Skeppy's heart flutter and his brain buzz with ideas.

They weren't dating, more like friends with benefits, but Skeppy didn't see that as an excuse not to spice up their sex life.

Even so, the dreadful thought clouded Skeppy's mind. What if Bad doesn't like it? What if he thought Skeppy looked weird? What if he wanted to end their arrangement and just be normal roommates?

Skeppy shook his head like it was clearing an Etch-A-Sketch. He had come this far already, it would be a waste of time, effort, and a hundred or so dollars to just give in to anxiety. Plus Bad would never make fun of him for wanting to try new things, right?

He hoped so.

Skeppy sighed and started stripping. His shirt fell to the ground, followed by his ripped jeans.

The skirt was light in his hands. Good material, he noticed. The waistband was stretchy. Good.

He slipped it on, over his hips and on his waist, settling almost under his belly button. He frowned at how his black briefs peaked out from under the skirt.

He didn't have a problem with taking them off, they were going to come off anyway. Plus they didn't really go with the outfit anyway. He just wished he had something to go under the skirt. But he didn't own any panties and didn't order any with the outfit.

He grumbled at himself as he kicked the underwear in the pile with his other clothes.

He wasn't prepared for the feeling of the fabric against his bare thighs or junk. He gasped softly, hands flying to clamp over his mouth. Moving around was going to be an issue.

He went for the thigh highs, pausing, then deciding the garters go on first.

He slipped those over his legs and onto his thighs. He should've shaved.

The garters hugged his thighs nicely. His little fat rolling past the black elastic and white lace trim. The silver metal clips were cold as they bumped his skin.

Next came the stockings themselves. He rolled them on, nose scrunching at how they dragged up his leg hair. He really should have shaved. He clipped the little silver hearts to the top of the stockings and stood up.