Lycra and Lace and Tutus

LYCRA AND LACE AND TUTUS

A VILLAINOUS HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

Baltasar POV

The Mouthy One: Everyone better bring their A game to Lycra and Lace’s grand opening Halloween costume party tonight. [Pumpkin emoji]

The Mouthy One: And by A game, I mean ASS game. [Peach emoji]

The One with the Biggest Dick: We all knew what you meant, Xanny, don’t worry. [Eye roll emoji]

The Mafia Queen: Oh, I guarantee, Wolfy and I will be there with bells on. Specifically, with the best couples costume of the bunch. So don’t be disappointed when the rest of you lose.

The Mouthy One: Not happening, Simon. I’ll have the hottest piece of ass on my arm, not to mention the nakedest.

The Token Hero: Wait, what?

The Mouthy One: Go see what I’ve laid out for you on the bed.

The Mouthy One: We’ll wait .

The Rabble group chat politely paused while three dots appeared next to The Token Hero, only to disappear again—multiple times.

The Token Hero: Xan…

The Mouthy One: Yes, sweetheart?

The Token Hero: I can’t wear this in public.

The Mouthy One: You’ve done it before. Be a good boy for Daddy.

Clan Daddy: I don’t recall this being a costume contest, ‘Daddy.’ But either way, Simon is correct. We’ve already won.

Lizard Dick: I wouldn’t be so sure, Hand of Death. Baltasar and I will be claiming that honor. [Trophy emoji]

Clan Daddy: Oh, you think so, Scaled Justice?

The Mouthy One: Ooh, clan leader showdown! I’ll have to plan a set with that theme… A pole dance-off, maybe… [Dancing friends emoji]

The Mafia Queen: Does this mean I can expect to see a slutty version of Wolfy on stage tonight?

The Mafia Queen: Sluttier than he already is, of course.

Clan Daddy: Careful, Simon.

The Mouthy One: Hell no. If you think I’m putting ANY of my brothers - or significant others - on MY stage, you’re crazier than we all know you are.

The Mafia Queen: Sigh. But thank you for the compliment. [Painted fingernails emoji]

The Mouthy One: However…

The Mouthy One: There is one supe in this chat who has a tribute set scheduled for tonight …

The Token Hero: OH MY GOD!

The Mouthy One: Sweetheart. You think I’m going to open a Big City-based, supe-themed strip club franchise and NOT have my hot-as-fuck fiancé immortalized in lights? It’s like you don’t know me at all…

I set my phone down on the bedside table, breathing a sigh of relief that the Blunt Force set from Sunrise City’s Lycra and Lace location would never grace the stage of Xander’s club.

Unfortunately, I still had the issue of being brave enough to wear the costume Zion picked out for me.

Which includes a tutu…

It’s not like members of either family hadn’t seen both of us in our ‘dad tutus’ at home when Daisy demanded it, but this was different. This was a sex tutu, and until now, those scandalous articles of clothing had remained hidden in the deepest, darkest part of our walk-in closet—for Zion’s eyes only.

Along with the jock straps I wear underneath.

Deciding I needed some encouragement from my former partner in crime, I grabbed my phone again and texted Violentia directly.

So… what are YOU wearing tonight, Capitana?

It only took a moment for her to reply.

The One with the Biggest Dick: Hey squirt. [middle finger emoji] I’m actually gonna pass on tonight. Kai’s been having a lot of heartburn and sciatica with this pregnancy, so I’m taking some organic takeout and spa shit to her apartment while Xanny and Butch wile out at their party .

I didn’t know what to make of this. Vi never turned down the opportunity to drink her weight in alcohol, and even though it was an all-male revue at Xander’s club—which I suspected wasn’t my sister’s thing—I’d still expected her to ‘wile out’ with the rest of us.

The twins also wouldn’t be joining us, since they were currently in Berlin with their shared mystery man. That situation had been an adventure in itself, so I couldn’t help wondering if they’d purposefully made other plans to avoid a full family interrogation.

Which would have taken some attention away from me.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet, B?”

I shifted my attention away from my phone to the doorway of the Suarez compound bedroom we stayed in while in town.

And my jaw dropped.

Zion had shaved his hair into a low mohawk and dyed what was left bright orange. His bondage harness was holding up what looked like an enormous spiked turtle shell, and I spied an equally spiky dragon tail dragging behind him.

I guess he couldn’t let out his real tail with all the normies around.

All that aside, what really caught my eye was how this was all he was wearing—other than a shiny gold Speedo.

Which is doing nothing to disguise what my man is packing.

My cock was one thousand percent on board, but the rest of me was still a little shocked. “Um… that’s all you’re wearing?” I stuttered, unable to tear my gaze away from how nicely his fantastic tatas were framed by the harness.

Once a titty-man, always a titty-man.

“Well…” He smirked, revealing some all-natural fang. “I was gonna rock some green Lycra, but then I asked Butch to text me what Xander is making him wear. I figured we needed to compete for the most amount of skin showing.”

I released a second sigh of relief. With Zion looking like this—and Butch dressed… however he was being forced to dress—no one would pay any attention to me and my pretty princess outfit.

Except Zion.

Because he was my inventus, Zion instinctively picked up on the problem. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, beautiful,” he spoke softly as he approached, his proximity doing nothing to calm me down. “I would never make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“It’s not that!” I blurted out, ripping my gaze away from his bulge to focus on his concerned face instead. “It’s just… What if my siblings guess that this is our thing? You don’t understand. If they do, I will. Never. Hear. The. End. Of. It.”

Not even death would save me from The Rabble group chat.

Zion’s earthy brown eyes darkened further. “No one will know, B. That’s the fun of it. But you’ll know. You’ll spend the evening knowing I plan to stuff your pretty princess cunt while you wear that outfit for me.”

“Fuck,” I choked out as my cock thickened so fast, I almost passed out from the blood loss. “All right, all right! I’ll wear the Princess Peach outfit. Chill out, you big lizard.”

Big Koopa, rather…

Bowser-Zion chuckled darkly, but he blessedly backed away so I could breathe again. “Okay, I’m gonna go make sure Betsy’s all set up for babysitting Daisy tonight. When I get back, you’d better be looking your prettiest.”

I glared at him even as I internally preened over how pretty he always said I was. And deep down, I knew Zion was right. My siblings went big at every opportunity , so no one was going to think twice about me showing up dressed as the ruler of Mushroom Kingdom.

Rising to stand, I turned and gazed down at what I’d be wearing tonight. The dress—complete with a tutu-style skirt—was bubblegum pink and had a bright blue stone sewn into the chest. A pair of long white gloves was laid out next to the pile of tulle, along with a golden crown. Luckily, I didn’t spot a pair of high heels to go with it, because I was almost positive I would eat pavement if I attempted to wear anything like that.

Although, I’m sure Xanny and Simon will be rocking some.

Hopefully, that won’t deduct points…

I shook my head with a laugh. This wasn’t even an official competition—it was just that my family made everything a competition. But the supe I loved competing against more than anyone else was on my team, now and forever.

Buoyed by this knowledge, I cranked up my supe speed to strip, determined to be the prettiest goddamn princess there was by the time my King Koopa returned to the room.

I couldn’t get my boner to go away.

Luckily, it was stuffed inside a jock and buried beneath a mountain of floof, but Zion kept stealing knowing glances at me that were so full of heat, I was sweating.

“Stop it, Z,” I hissed as I joined him at the bar for another drink.

The club was hoppin’, and I was incredibly proud of my older brother for creating such a cool den of debauchery.

I suppose he had to balance out all that goody two shoes environmental work he does…

Saving the sea turtles and shit.

My overgrown turtle for the night turned to me with two shots of whiskey in hand. “What’s the matter, beautiful? Are you worried someone here might mistake me for one of the dancers and try to book a private room?”

I loudly growled at the thought and sharply glanced around, ensuring no one was getting the wrong idea about what was mine. Besides the occasional appreciative glance Zion was receiving—since he did look hot as hell—most people were either watching the stage or chatting with each other.

Xander had decorated so the interior resembled a city street, similar to the original Lycra and Lace. But instead of grimy graffiti and back alleyways, he’d gone for a business district vibe. The walls looked like mirrored glass facades, and all surfaces were a mix of glass and stainless steel. Both the waiters and waitresses were dressed in tailored pinstripe suits as they gracefully maneuvered through the crowded space. It was exactly the type of modern vibe my brother loved, and it was obvious his grand opening was a huge success.

My gaze drifted to where Xanny was holding court at a prime balcony booth overlooking the main floor and stage. He was dressed as Dr. Frank N. Furter from his favorite musical— The Rocky Horror Picture Show —complete with a green hospital gown, pink rubber gloves, an oversized pearl necklace, and fishnets with heels.

And unfortunately, I can guess what he has on under there…

This, of course, meant Butch was in nothing but gold lamé briefs and high-top wrestling sneakers.

Although I don’t remember Rocky being led around by a dog leash …

Not all himbos wear capes, I guess.

Our other competitors for the night were rejoining the table, with Simon triumphantly waving a pair of speedos that looked suspiciously like they belonged to the last act to take the stage.

A morbid tribute to our old friend Rem-job.

Wolfy was smiling down at his Mafia Queen adoringly as he tucked away his gold Ferragamo money clip. I’d expected them to dress like characters from Little Shop of Horrors, but they’d gone in an entirely different direction by embodying Gomez and Morticia Addams from The Addams Family.

The perfect couples costume for two psychopaths in love.

Wolfy must have known the waitstaff would be in pinstripes, as he’d gone for a boxy black suit instead. He actually looked fairly similar to how he always did, except for the pencil-thin mustache, which he was somehow pulling off.

Naturally, Simon was stealing the show. Instead of a dress, he’d chosen a fitted black suit with a Morticia-approved plunging neckline on the jacket, displaying his bare chest beneath. True to his gender-bending style, he was wearing heels and didn’t seem to have any trouble walking in them.

We can still take ‘em…

“I can’t wait to take you,” Zion abruptly purred in my ear, bringing the parts of me not already doing a standing salute to full attention.

“Z…” I warned, even as I rubbed myself against him like a cat in heat.

“I’m serious,” he replied before downing his shot. “You look so fucking pretty. It’s been all I can do not to bend you over one of these tables and rail you in front of everyone here. ”

My cheeks went up in flames at the thought, even as my cock gave a high kick of approval. “I-I don’t think Xander would appreciate us defiling his new club on opening night.”

In true clan leader fashion, Zion scoffed. “You think I care? Besides, I’d bet money he’s thinking of doing the same to his blushing boytoy…”

I refused to look at Butch—mostly because Ginger’s Captain Masculine act was branded onto my retinas for all eternity.

Can’t unsee…

Instead, I focused on guzzling down my whiskey and gesturing for the bartender to bring us another round. “Yeah… It’s wild to think both you and Cappy are heroes,” I teased in an attempt to redirect. “Since he’s such a boy scout and you’re?—”

“Out here pitching a tent?” Zion casually interrupted, making my gaze drop like a stone to his Speedo.

The bulge is definitely looking… bulgier.

“But we both know it’s because there’s no actual difference between heroes and villains.” Zion’s tone had softened, and when I met his gaze again, I found nothing but pure love shining in his eyes. “I thank my lucky stars every day that the rest of the world figured it out so you and I could be together.”

Squee!

“Me too,” I whispered fervently, even though it was the least of what I wanted to say.

I wished I was articulate enough in this moment to tell this man how I thanked my lucky stars every day that I hadn’t gone through with marrying his sister, that I took a chance on him—on us —instead, even though I stupidly thought I was totally straight .

But we both know I’m super gay for lizard dick.

Unfortunately, I was many drinks deep, and the lizard dick in question was nudging insistently against my thigh through my pink tutu. So, I quickly threw back my next shot and braced myself for whatever he was going to say next.

“Enough of this sentimental shit,” Zion growled, looming over me in the way that made me feral. “You see that back hallway over there? I’m going to give you a one-minute head start. Then, I’m coming for you. And… coming in you.”

I froze for only a moment before quickly glancing in the direction of his pointed finger.

“And you’d better not let me catch you,” he continued, echoing his words from when he first knotted me and gave me his mating bite. “Give me a challenge, Suarez-Salah. Run for your life.”

EEK!

Hiking up my floofy pink tutu in one hand, I brought my Deathball skills out of retirement to shove my way through the throng of costumed normies and supes who’d wisely aligned with our two clans. Of course, I wanted Zion to catch me, but I also loved giving that big lizard a run for his money.

Old habits die hard.

Once I reached the hallway, I almost slammed into the wall since everything back here was mirrored as well.

What kind of psycho designed this place?!

Oh, right…

Reorienting myself in this weird house of mirrors, I turned a corner to find a row of unmarked doors and another couple already fucking in the shadows .

“MY EYES!” I shouted as I raced past Wolfy and Simon, knowing I’d be having nightmares about my brother’s Dick of Death for weeks.

I attempted to open the first door I reached, internally screaming when I found it locked. All the while, I was trying my best to ignore the sex sounds and Simon’s strangled comment about how ‘primal play is apparently a popular trope in this family.’

So are psychopaths in love.

As if to illustrate my point, a deafening roar rattled the mirrored walls, and I knew my time was up. Racing down the line, it wasn’t until I got to the last door that one finally opened, and I tumbled in, landing hard on the floor inside.

Scrambling to my feet, I moved to close and lock the door, but I wasn’t fast enough. Zion barreled through like a freight train—practically taking the door off its hinges as he tackled me to the floor again.

“Silly little prey,” he snarled, running his fangs over my neck. “Is my mate trying to run away from me? As if I’d ever let you go…”

I could tell Zion’s lizard brain was calling the shots at the moment, so I allowed my animalistic husband to rut against me while I waited for him to come back online. By the time he did, my dick was leaking precum all over my jock and trying to Hulk its way through the cotton and tulle trapping it in place.

And the floor.

“Fuck… Sorry about that, beautiful,” Zion chuckled before sweetly kissing my neck and lifting his weight off me.

“I like it,” I mumbled, clamoring to my feet as he closed and locked the door and flicked on the lights .

My breath caught at how fucking hot he looked, now bathed in a neon purple glow. The way it highlighted his mahogany skin was so reminiscent of his scale coloring in supe form that I had to grip my dick through the layers to stop from blowing my load too soon.

“I take it you like my costume, huh?” he smirked, advancing closer to loom over me again. “Well, you already know how I feel about yours.”

“Yeah,” I breathed, feeling small and precious compared to him—just how I liked it.

I love being baby.

Knowing the door was locked, I reached behind me, awkwardly scrabbling for the annoyingly tiny zipper on the back of my dress.

“Stop.” Zion’s commanding voice was in full clan leader mode, and I fucking whimpered. “Turn around.”

I obeyed so fast, I almost fell over, and there was no controlling the shudders wracking my body at the anticipation of what was to come.

Or who …

Zion unzipped me but didn’t immediately let me go. “Now, I want to watch you take the rest off. Slowly. Put on a little striptease for me, Suarez-Salah.”

It was only then I noticed this private room contained a few plush chairs facing a tiny square stage—complete with a stripper pole.

Oh, hell no.

“Yes,” Zion addressed my unspoken protests. “Because you’re my prisoner, Princess Peach, and that means you have to do as I say. ”

Okay, so we’re going full Mario Bros role-play here.

I’ll allow it.

Adopting my breathiest tone, I turned and clutched my dress to my chest, as if scandalized. “I-If I do this, will you promise not to h-hurt me?”

I’m so good at this shit.

Unfortunately, Zion looked less turned on and more like he was about to start laughing at my acting skills, but—luckily for him —he pulled it together. With a haughty sniff, I held on to the top half of my dress with one hand and hiked up my tutu with the other before ascending the stage.

Zion must have found the stereo controls as, all of a sudden, a familiar 80s hit came on, with Bonnie Tyler passionately asking where have all the good men gone. I turned and scowled at where he’d sat in a chair facing the stage, now in nothing but his bondage harness and gold Speedo. “Holding Out for a Hero” was the same song used for the infamous Blunt Force set at Lycra and Lace: Sunrise City—which was still performed to this day.

Much to Zion’s pleasure… and my dismay.

“Go on,” he coaxed, spreading his legs and settling in to watch the show. “Shake that sweet peach for your king, Peach.”

Let’s fucking do this!

The beat was about the furthest thing from sexy, but I’d watched Ariana make it work at the club back home, so I channeled my best Flashdance and let go.

First, the long white gloves came off, teasingly slow, and I tossed each one into Zion’s lap—beyond pleased that I nailed him right in the junk each time. Asshole that he was, he responded by sliding a hand into his Speedo, knocking the gloves to the floor, and breaking my concentration as I hungrily tracked the movement.

With a huff, I refocused—wrestling my arms out of the too-tight sleeves and shimmying the tutu down my legs before tossing it to Zion.

“On your hands and knees,” he commanded, swatting away the floof without skipping a beat. “Show me that pretty princess cunt.”

I swallowed hard and looked down at myself. At this point, I was down to my jockstrap, the Deathball knee pads I’d snuck on under my tutu, and the pink Lacoste sneakers Zion had bought me.

And the gold crown.

Sporty Peach.

Zion cleared his throat impatiently, although I couldn’t help but notice how his heated gaze was fixed on the knee pads.

I know what you like, you animal.

All this did was encourage me, so with a flirty wink, I spun and sexily sank to my knees before spreading my legs.

Presenting myself to him.

This was a standard part of primal playtime, and there was nothing quite like allowing another person to stare at your hole while you tried not to move or die of embarrassment. Even stranger was how the humiliation only turned me on more—as evidenced by how soaked my jock was already.

But I know better than to take it off.

“Beautiful.” His breath was cool on my sweaty skin as he ran a lizard-lubed finger over my hole before briefly slipping it inside—experimentally prodding me. “Although it doesn’t seem like you prepped for me tonight… ”

“I didn’t,” I replied, peeking at him over my shoulder to watch his expression. “I-I wanted it to hurt.”

Zion froze in the way only supes could, his predatory gaze zeroing in on me as my cock throbbed.

Don’t come, don’t come, don’t come.

“Hold on to the pole, B,” he growled, apparently done with both Bowser-Peach role-play and my striptease. “I’m going to wreck your perfect cunt.”

Reaching forward, I wrapped my hands around the pole, yelping in surprise as he grabbed me by the thighs and yanked me backward—impaling me on his full length in one stroke.

“FUCK!!!” I shouted as my eyes crossed and my balls drew up tight.

Luckily, my man had already lubed himself up with his magical saliva. By some further miracle, he used his claws to tear off my jock two seconds before I unloaded all over the stage floor.

Oops.

I didn’t have time to worry if Xanny had stocked these rooms with cum towels, as Zion was violently hammering into me—repeatedly dragging that gloriously ridged Rocket Pop lizard dick over my overly sensitive prostate while I sobbed.

“Fuck, I love fucking this tight little cunt,” he snarled, upping his speed like a demonic jackrabbit. “And I love knowing I’m the only one who’s had you this way. That your cunt belongs to me.”

“Every part of me belongs to you,” I gasped as he grabbed me by the throat to pull me upright, bringing my back against his enormous chest. “And I love the way you own me.”

I just love you .

Tears were rolling down my face as I thought about how deeply I loved this man. It wasn’t just the inventus bond—Zion knew me inside and out, and he always treated me exactly how I deserved.

And right now, he’s treating me like the slutty, sporty princess I am.

“So. Fucking. Tight. So. Fucking. Perfect,” Zion was chanting, having clearly gone to lizard La La Land again. But then, he was fisting my cock, roughly stroking me through another orgasm as I writhed in his hold.

It was only once I’d finished that he emptied into my ass, and I had just enough conscious awareness left to reach behind me and squeeze his knot through the process.

Milking every drop.

We collectively collapsed onto the stage, which put me in the cum puddle, but I was too fucked out to care. Our personal soundtrack of 80s hits and nasty sex had ended, so all I could hear was the thumping of the club music mixed with our heavy breathing as we both came back to reality.

I winced as he finally pulled out, but I remained where I was so he could complete his aftercare ritual of licking his own cum from my ass with his ridged lizard tongue.

So disgusting.

I love it.

“How are you feeling, beautiful?” my inventus crooned, rolling me over and wiping a cloth over my chest and abs to clean me up.

“Turnt out,” I mumbled, making him laugh. Only then did I open my eyes to find he was using my dress as the cum towel. “Z!” I hissed. “What the fuck am I supposed to wear to go back out there? ”

“Calm down, princess,” he teased. “It’s just the top half. The tutu will cover enough of you… until we get home.”

The deliciously unspoken threat in his words was clear, making my breath catch. “If we leave sooner rather than later, we’ll have the entire wing to ourselves to play chase.”

Gotcha.

As expected, my words hit their mark. With an inhuman growl that got me hard all over again, Zion quickly tucked himself back into his Speedo, hastily helped me into my tutu, and threw me over his shoulder, caveman-style—as if I was his delicate little princess. His prisoner. His prize.

Just how I like it.

Two Hours Later…

The Mouthy One: Since everyone else disappeared - presumably to FUCK - you all forfeited the costume contest.

The Mouthy One: So Butch and I won. [Trophy emoji] [Victory hands emoji]

The Token Hero: Xan…

Lizard Dick: Worth it. [Lizard emoji] [Water emoji]

The Mafia Queen: EXCUSE ME?! You cannot simply declare rules after the fact. Putains de connards…

Clan Daddy: Do you not think it was worth it, Simon?

The Mafia Queen: Of course I do, mon chou, but we also should have won.

The Mafia Queen: So there .

The Mouthy One: Too bad, Simon. In the club, I’M the Mafia Queen. [Painted fingernails emoji]

Clan Daddy: Careful, Xanny.

The Mouthy One: No. YOU be careful, Wolfy - or else I will arrange for a Hand of Death act after all.

The Token Hero: Xan.

The Mafia Queen: I support that as fitting revenge.

The Mafia Queen: Can I be involved in auditions? [Sneaky eyes emoji]

The Mouthy One: I’ll think about it.

The Token Hero: Xan!

The Mouthy One: Yes, sweetheart?

The Token Hero: If you’re going to disqualify everyone for doing… you know… in the club, wouldn’t we be disqualified too?

The Mouthy One: Goddamnit, Butch.

The Mafia Queen: brAT!

Clan Daddy: It’s all right, Boss. This simply means we won after all.

The Mafia Queen: I love how you think, murder baby. [Kissy face emoji]

Lizard Dick: Hey, Xander! This is as good a time as any to mention you might want to stash cum towels in the private rooms. [More water emojis]

The Mouthy One: Jesus…

The Mouthy One: That's it. You’re all banned from the club for life.

The Token Hero: What about me? !

The Mouthy One: You can come, but you’ll have to stay under the table.

The Mouthy One: If you know what I mean. [Winky face emoji]

I set down my phone with a smile, deciding it was best to stay out of the fray.

What happens in the club stays in the club.