#suit
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Discoholic 🪩
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Three Goblin Art
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JBB: An Artblog!
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
ojovivo
wallacepolsom

Origami Around
Acquired Stardust
dirt enthusiast
i don't do bad sauce passes
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Kaledo Art
hello vonnie

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will byers stan first human second
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@manprep-blog
#suit
Enjoying a nice afternoon walk.
The hardest part about being this wealthy is making sure my bespoke trousers aren't made of same shade of fabric as my man servant's uniform khakis. Yes, he's passing as my friend on this family vacation with my sister, but we all know he's really there to drink my cum and fill his preppy suited ass with my seed.
On his way out the door his boyfriend said “You look cute today honey. I like that outfit on you.” “Outfit?” he replied. “This is a suit. Women wear outfits.“ He smiled at me, patted me on my bum and said, “It’s OK honey, I think that outfit looks great on you. I love you and your new frames are very preppy and cute. “I’m a 33-year-old man,” I said. “Dogs are cute. Why are you always minimizing me with your words?”
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Did you have a hard time sleeping in your cage again?“ “That’s another thing that needs to change,” I said. “This comes off when I get home tonight.” What did you say? was his reply so I said it again. “I’ve tolerated this as an amusement. I know every now and again you’re going to rebel. It’s only natural for a submissive boy like you. However I’m not going to tolerate this anymore. Takeoff your trousers.“ He proceeded to spank me for the next 10 minutes. I was flush with embarrassment and shame. He looked at me and asked if I felt better now. “Yes sir,“ was my reply. “Good boy. Now go make some money and remember your place or I’ll remind you again.”
Voici un petit recueil de mes conseils pour structurer votre garde robe. Cet article devrait vous aider ou vous donner des idées dans l'acquisition de vos futurs costumes ! https://t.co/p6InOGTJUS
Be happy I’m the Internal Affairs Detective who caught on to your little sex trade ring in Vice, Captain. Any one else in IA would have you locked up in prison. With me you’re training and improving your body and mind, your sex ring is making more money and is totally protected. All you have to do is serve as my footstool and fuck toy. We both know you were the bait for queer John’s back in your rookie days in Vice, it’s how you made all your connections. So don’t act like you’re to good to have another man’s cock up your ass, or I’ll put a hood on you and whore you out at the club, like you’ve been doing to that cute cadet from the academy. As a matter of principle, I want you to bring the boy with you tomorrow so you can watch your Master breed the boy before an audience that will pay handsomely to fuck that boy into a sex coma.
Lucky guy on his first date!
Damn - he looks so good in a 3 piece
New Arrival.
Suited fag looking all masc and showing off its tits.
Request - On a young man's 18th birthday, his parents tell him he needs to start acting like a man since he is now an adult. They order him to go to a barbershop to get a man's haircut so he follows their orders. While getting the haircut, the barber hypnotises the young man into wanting to wear formal suits and ties all the time. After this the man goes to a suit store and spends a large amount of money on new clothes and begins to wear them everywhere he goes.
Bart to Bartholomew
Today is Bart Melton's eighteenth birthday, the he officially becomes a man, not that his father, Franklin, believes that. He thinks that Bart is an immature child unaware of how the real world works. Bart knows this is really because he's nothing like his father wanted him to turn out, which was just like him. Franklin Melton is the CEO of Melton Industries, a multi-million dollar company with a hand in pretty much everything, and he definitely looked the part. He wore three-piece suits with tightly tied ties all the time, his hair was slicked back and he was very liberally perfumed, with his expensive cologne announcing his arrival in advance and lingering long after he left. Bartholomew 'Bart' Melton however, while an ace academically, lacked any sort of motivation or direction in life, he spends his days laying about in his room playing on games consoles and watching TV.
Around 10 o'clock in the morning, Bart was called into his father's home office. When you enter Franklin Melton's home office the first thing you notice is his signature cologne, whether or not the man himself was in the office - although if you weren't the cleaner or Mrs Melton, you were probably never in the office when he wasn’t - Bart of course was used to this smell, a mixture of bergamont and a smell Bart was never able to recognise. When Bart entered his father's office he saw his father sitting at his desk, reading todays newspaper in a navy blue three-piece suit.
"Bartholomew," His father was the only one who called him that, "Today is your eighteenth birthday, and my present to you is to take you on a little shopping trip"
"Shopping trip?" Bart repeated.
"Yes. You are a man now, it's about time you started acting like one"
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that as my son there are certain expectations of you now you have become an adult, expectations that on your current path you will not meet. But I am hoping that after we spend the day together, you may feel different, otherwise I will have no choice but to cut you off"
"Okay father," Bart learnt at a young age to never call his father 'dad', "Where are we going?"
"Come on now Bartholomew," Franklin got up from his chair, "It's a surprise, it is your birthday after all". The two rode in their chauffeured car into the city, sitting in silence. It wasn't that Bart hated spending time with his father, but the two had very little in common; Franklin was all business, Bart was more laid back; Franklin wore formal restrictive clothing, Bart wore loose-fitting clothes; Franklin is straight and Bart is gay - not that Franklin had a problem with that. The truth is, if it weren't for the threat of being cut off, Bart would not be going on this shopping trip.
When the car came to a stop, father and son exited the vehicle and Bart finally saw their first stop - Harrings Barber Shop - where his father had a fortnighly haircut.
"A hair cut?"
"Yes Bartholomew. Trust me, there is little in life that feels better than a profession cut" Franklin explained to his son, who admittedly needs a trim. The two entered the barbershop, which was currently empty as the Meltons were its first customers of the day, and a small bell at the top of the door rang. From the back of the shop came a man around Franklins age, with perfectly styled hair and a perfected sculpted beard.
"Mr Melton!," The man exclaimed, "And who is this strapping young man?"
"Harring, this is my son, Bartholomew. He's here for a cut, it's his eighteenth today. Give him the same as me" Bartholomew didn't know that Franklin informing Harring of his eighteenth birthday, he was actually asking for a very special haircut. Bart sat down in the barbers chair while his father sat down to watch. First, Harring washed Barts hair and as the shampoo was being washed from his head, he felt a wave of relaxation rush over him, which intensified as Harring began cutting away at Barts hair, with every clip of the scissors Bart sank deeper and deeper into a trance, and once he was under completely he began hearing Harrings voice in his ear.
'You are a man now Bartholomew, and a man must be presentable at all times. You will no longer wear your loose clothes, you would much rather wear a suit and a tie. You will always act respectable, in the image of your father. You will be a perfectly preppy, perfectly formal, perfect heir to the Melton name'.
This repeated in Bartholomew’s head until he was snapped out of the trance by Harring removing the cape from him. He looked in the mirror at his new haircut, gone was his shaggy haircut, replaced a much more conservative cut, slicked back with a considerable amount of product, he looked like a young Patrick Bateman.
"What do you think son?" Franklin asked his son, who nodded approvingly, it was the type of hairstyle a respectable adult should have. Franklin paid Harring for the haircut and the Melton men left the barbershop, but Bartholomew no longer saw the car.
"I've asked our chuaffeur to run an errand, our next stop is only down the road" As Franklin said that, he had given away the next part of this trip, as down the road from his barber, was his tailor. The tailor quickly took Bartholomew’s measurements and returned with three-piece suit just like the one Franklin was wearing.
As Bartholomew put the suit on, with every button he buttoned and every piece of clothing he put on he changed even further. He longer wished to spend his days in his room being unproductive, he'd start applying for business school as soon as he gets home so he can one day take over from his father, whom he tried to emulate in every way he could. Once he finished putting the suit on, he looked in the mirror, the man in the reflection was a far cry from the boy Bartholomew had been this morning, from now on he would only go by Bartholomew and he would empty his wardrobe, filling it only wear formal clothing, this is much more suitable for a businessman. Once the suit had been paid for, the tailors assistant came from the back of the store with his old clothes in a bag. The assistant was only a few years older than Bartholomew and was wearing an incredible grey suit with a tie tied tightly around his neck, Bartholomew liked how the man looked.
"Mr Melton, your other clothes" He handed the bag to Bartholomew.
"Please, call me Bartholomew," He said in a calm respectable tone shaking the mans hand, "Mr Melton is my father".
"Thomas, sir, if I may say so you look particularly dapper"
"Thank you, when do you get off work?" Bartholomew smiled as he asked.
"5 O'clock"
"When you leave work, come to my place, I'll tell the doorman to let you up"
The two exchanged numbers as Franklin looked on, everything had gone according to plan, Bartholomew had complied with his conditioning perfectly and was now the perfect heir to his company and fortune, he also seems to be hitting it off with the young man, who as a tailors apprentice would make a respectable choice as a future Mr Melton.
Today truly was Bartholomew’s birthday, and the first day of the rest of his life.
I’m pretty much transformed at this point, I guess. It’s just a regular Saturday and I’m in a tux. He’s finishing up the grocery list and then I’ll be off to Whole Foods. It used to bother me but I’m so Horney now I don’t care. People will look at me and wonder why I’d wear a tux to the grocery store but then they quickly get back to their own lives. I’m three weeks caged. It’s a good spot for me. If he doesn’t like the fruit, I’ll be spanked. If he thinks the veggies aren’t fresh enough, I’ll be spanked. You get the picture, right. I’m a banker by occupation, but more boy than anything else at this point. He found me at a bar and fixed me; that’s what he told his friends. It bothered me at first but he was right. I hated to admit it but the truth sometimes is hard to accept. After 6 pm I strip and put on my leather collar. That is my evening outfit. It all took some getting used to but I got used to it. It feels so natural today. I’m so grateful he stuck with me. He gave me the space I needed to be what I am. I love him so much it hurts at times. I’m a fag. I’m a boy. I’m his. It’s great.
Being taught his lessons, tom’s heart began to sink. He thought his stepdad just wanted him to get dressed in white-collar just for their first day at church together. Sort of like a breaking-in of his mom’s new marriage. But no… it was all over for him… the papers he was being shown were the recipt for the boys new wardrobe. His father had incinerated all of his casual clothing. It was nothing but gussied up shimmering shoes, belts, suspenders, white collars and tight white briefs. He would have his hair inspected for proper geling and styling every morning, and every night when Tom came home from work… Where he would ALSO be 100% preppied up like a proper young good lad. Otherwise he will be spanked and locked in his room. A room which, he soon found out, had been completely remodeled from epic video game posters, modern scifi furnishings and metal frams, into a room made of mahogany, boring browns, buttons and rubbery childproof knobs. He did as told, and neatly folded his hands together, and pressed his legs close and tight, listening in as his new Daddy told him how Tommington was to be.