A Brush A Bride And A Lot of Begging (Patreon)

Beckham thought for sure this new acting role was in the bag. And all it took was playing up the charm to a director over the course of dinner. Middle-aged women were so vulnerable to pretty young men like Beckham flirting with them. With his short brown hair, a well-defined body, and dashing blue eyes, all he needed to do was keep smiling, laughing at her jokes and occasionally play to her ego, and this would be another profitable gig he nailed. Nothing short of a supernatural force could upset this.

Julie, the director, leaned back in her chair from across the dining table and smiled at Beckham. She’s dolled with makeup even though she’s inside her own home, probably out of some desire to physically attract the young actor.

“So,” Julie began, “I think I know the answer already. But, do you feel you’re up for it, Beckham?” she asked him, an expectant smile on her face. “I always had a specific vision for this character. And I really think that you’re it.”

Beckham grinned and nodded, casually doing his hair back with a hand. It retains its waviness as his fingers run through it. “I think I certainly am, Miss Julie.” he replied, his voice maintained in a cool and measured baritone.

Julie clapped her hands together excitedly. “Great! That’s just what I was hoping to hear. I’ll start making some calls, then. I know I’ve been yapping your head off all night. I’ll give you some space so you can go ahead and keep eating.”

“Please,” Beckham responded, “It’s been a treat to talk with you.~”

“Oh! You doll,” Julie remarked with a giggle to herself. She stood up from her seat and pulled out her cell phone, already walking away from the table. “We’ll talk in a sec, okay?” she said over her shoulder as she vanished into the kitchen .

As soon as she went away, Beckham chuckled and shook his head to himself. “Too easy,” he murmured under his breath. There was so much laid out on the table, there’s no way he’d eat even half of this by himself. Still, a free dinner was a free dinner. Beckham reached for a nearby plate of food, totally unaware of the nasty surprise hiding under the table until he brought his food close and looked down.

The sight of a child’s toy doll in gothic makeup suddenly staring and smirking up at Beckham made him flinch. He wanted to get out of his seat. He even tried to.

“What the f-”

His curse is cut short as this female doll - somehow wearing even darker mascara than his new employer - inexplicably grabbed the crotch of his pants and squeezed. Beckham grimaced at the invasive feeling and glued himself back into his seat, cowed into compliance. He looked down at this animated blonde with a confused look of fright and disgust. He’s never seen this ‘woman’ before in his life but she’s already at second base with him. Who the hell was she? Was it even a she?

“Too easy, huh?” The gothic blonde spat, throwing Beckham’s own comment back at him. Despite her obvious contempt, she smiled through her words while continuing to glare at the male with predatory and lecherous eyes. This was not a comforting look for Beckham. He tried to say something back.

“What-”

“Shh.” She shushed him mid-sentence, reminding the actor of her leverage on him by giving his junk another light squeeze. It made him squirm. It also made him tingle. Beckham dreaded the thought that he might actually like the feeling of being felt up by this midget woman.

“You don’t wanna interrupt miss boss director while she’s in the middle of hiring ya, do you?” she said, pointing a thumb back towards the kitchen. They can hear the unintelligible chatter from Julie while she talked on the phone. The girl smirked. “Playing with a girl’s heart like that. You oughta be ashamed of yourself, mistuh Beckham. Beck...” she repeated his name to herself for a moment before deciding on a better moniker for him. “Becky! I think that name suits you more.~”

“Nngh...” Beckham grunted as he feebly tried to wring himself free of her clutches, rocking from side to side on the chair. “Who the hell are you...?” he asked.

“Name’s Tiffany,” the eponymous blonde replied. “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by. Looks like I came at the right time.” Tiffany’s smile widened as her groping hand reached for the male’s jeans zipper. She pulled down on it slowly. Almost sensually. “We’re gonna play a little game, Becky,” she cooed.

After pulling the zipper all the way down and loosening up his jeans, Tiffany pulled out a paintbrush from her dress with her free hand and waved it in the air. Her puppet mandible opens again to speak. “It’s called, ‘try not to laugh while Tiffany paints on your dick like it’s a canvas.’”

Beckham furrowed his brow as he watched the living toy girl grabbing for the bulge in his underwear. Before he can say anything back, he’s stopped by the sound of Julie leaning in from the kitchen door and calling out to him. “Everything alright, doll?” she asked, the sound of her voice causing him to flinch. Against his better judgment and at the behest of his captor’s presumed wishes, Beckham fibbed and blithely nodded his head at Julie. The director remained blissfully unaware, shooting the boy a smile and a thumbs up before resuming her phone conversation from behind the kitchen.

Beckham feels his underwear pulled down alongside with his pants, followed by the feeling of his half-erect member flopping out into the wind. He can’t help that he’s turned on by a girl grabbing his junk. For the first time, this conditioning is used against him. The male shuddered and clutched at the seat of his chair for support, curling the toes of his bare feet against the hardwood floor. If he was allowed to keep his shoes on when coming inside, then maybe he’d try and kick this wooden carveout bitch from under him without hurting himself. For now, he’s utterly powerless to stop Tiffany from taking the tip of her paintbrush and twiddling around the tip of his penis... wait.

The feeling of wet bristles against Beckham’s little head forces his thoughts to a complete halt. It made his dick twitch and pulsate with a newfound rush of blood flowing to it, making him swell to full mast almost immediately. The sensation causes poor Beckham to jump in his seat, a noisy ‘clank’ echoing off the living room walls as the legs of his chair stamp the floor.

“Gnnngh...!” Beckham grunted between clenched teeth. He felt his face run hot and his pores bead with sweat. He couldn’t help it. Whatever bizarre teasing Tiffany was doing with that damn paintbrush was working. It was turning him on.

“Hehe.~” Tiffany giggled to herself. “Now that’s a good Becky. Keeping quiet while ol’ Tiffy diddles your dick a little more.” She leaned in and gave the underside of his cock a quick kiss. The feeling of impossibly fleshy and moist lips puckering against Beckham’s skin was a feeling that would haunt him for nights to come. Said feeling came alongside being wracked with guilt and filled with shame for being tickled to arousal by a walking and talking doll.

“F-Fuck...” Beckham groaned under his breath, shutting his eyes to try and focus away from the sensation of that wet, wiggly little paintbrush circling around the fragile girth of his cock. “Please stop. Please stop...”

“Hm? Did you say ‘please’?” Tiffany teased, knowing very well what she heard. The gothic bride chortled. “Well, only because you were sooo sweet about it.~”

Much to Beckham’s chagrin, Tiffany produces a second paintbrush in her other hand, now that she was letting his member sway around in the air freely. It was like a joystick she could fiddle around with, and her brushes were at the controls, conducting Becky’s every movement. “You know Becky, my mother always said that a good guy should be like a well cooked meal. Kept simmering hot~”

Her second paintbrush joins in on the fray, providing constant, unrelenting coverage where only a single brush could not. The brushes’ bristles soak in precum now that Tiffany’s male captive was oozing with it from his length, thanks to her intensified cock teasing. They only served to worsen the sensation. At the height of his sensitivity, Beckham found himself enjoying this. So much so, he even pushed his hips out slightly, almost as if he were trying to thrust into those teasing, tantalizing brushes slowly stroking him off. He was growing desperate, and Tiffany was all too eager to exploit his dwindling resolve.

“Oho.~” Tiffany giggled again, barely able to keep her voice down this time. What an amusing revelation. “So you do like this game, don’t ya, Beck?” she asked accusingly, a satisfied smirk etched on her plastic face. “Comon. Say it. Saaaay it. Or I’ll stooop~”

“F-Fuck..!” Beckham cursed under his breath, fighting against his own sense of dignity just to do as the doll told him to, “Yes, yes I like it... H-happy you little bitch?!” He pressed his feet so hard against the floor that he left footprints on them. His breathing was erratic, his skin was sweaty, his face was flushed, and his body was quivering from the illicit enjoyment of wet brushes stroking his sensitive member. This was so shameful for the otherwise prideful, aspiring young actor to admit. Little did he know just how quickly his own climax was approaching.

He saw Julie walk by the kitchen doorway and saw his only chance at help. Courtesy be damned, Beckham had to say something before he spooged all over himself and Julie’s living room and lose all chance of a future prospect in her movie. All the wile the sensations teasing withdraw from his shaft, leaving him to throb in intense need. “Mmm, Becky said a bad word. Mama spank.~”

“J-Julie!” Beckham blurted out.

Sadly, Julie remained dismissive and held up a shushing finger at Becky when she stopped at the door to acknowledge him. “Not now, dear. I’m on the phone,” she replied. But she took another glance at the male and noticed his reddened, sweaty face wrought with distress. A worried look appeared on Julie’s face, and she pressed the phone against her chest to mute it as she quietly asked, “Beckham? You okay?”

“Remember our little gaaaame...~” Tiffany hummed quietly in singsong tone. A voice as threatening to her captive as ever. “Here cums the final round...!”

Tiffany brought both paintbrushes back to the tip of Beckham’s shaft and polished it with greater gusto than ever before. She painted around the boy’s lewd crown, polishing it with his own pre until it shined. He felt every last strand of bristles on the brushes stroking around the tip of his dick, assaulting his every nerve with an unbearable tickling pleasure that made his ass tighten and his toes clench. Beckham’s length spasmed as a powerfully tingly feeling that had been pent up all this time was finally ready to burst out of it. He couldn’t fight it anymore. Not even with Julie standing right there watching every last detail of his face as his eyes rolled back and his tongue protruded slightly from his mouth, the oral muscle leaking heavily with drool.

“H-Hohh god... unngh...~” Becky whimpered. At the peak of his orgasm, he was absolved from any sense of shame from the utterly undignified and emasculating sound coming from his lips. Then came a loud grunt. And then came his climax.

“Guh~!”

Beckham succumbed to a full body shudder that wracked through his frame from head to toe, Hot, juicy white ropes of seed came spilling forth from his dick, landing on top of Tiffany’s head in several strands like frosting drizzled on her. He gasped with each spurt he gave, savoring that sweet, merciful release of cum that he could finally enjoy.

Julie, who had been watching the entire time, was utterly flabbergasted by the display. She had no idea what was going on underneath the table, but she was about to find out as she immediately rushed over to Beckham’s aid. “Oh my goodness, what the hell? Are you okay!?”

With one final grin and a wink from her cum-stained face, Tiffany quickly exchanged her last words with the actor for his splendid performance, “Game over, Becky. Ta ta, for now. I’ll play with you again soon.~” She quickly retreats under the cover the table, disappearing into the night and leaving Beckham alone in his compromising state for Julie to discover. He was so exhausted he didn’t even have the energy to care; he was left panting and slumped over against the chair, his shrinking dick still hanging out with a tiny trickle of cum still leaking from it.

Upon finally noticing this, Julie dropped her phone to the floor and covered her mouth with both hands as she gasped. “B-Beckham! What the!?”

——

Before Beckham got his senses back he was thrown out and left without his roll, not even able to zip up his pants before his exit. The young man coursed at the horrible twist of fate as he confusingly left the premises. Satisfied, defeated, and hands in his pockets.

Meanwhile Julie exasperatedly paces around her house in confusion and disgust. “I can’t believe this! Now I get left to clean up this mess! He didn’t even have the common courtesy to wait for me! What a quick shot...” She let out a exasperated grunt, her sexual frustration fading as the anxiety of her film built. She needed a lead and she needed one NOW.

Just then she noticed something among the sticky mess. A single business card with the number of one Jennifer Tilly. With a shrug of her shoulders Julie took the card and began to dial the phone.

“It’s better then nothing...”

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Big thanks to Aceline who really came through for me with the story for this one. Please check him out here. The fucker put me to shame. https://www.deviantart.com/animosity789

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