Bishop Takes the Queen Ch. 01

Zion rocked his hips, pushing in just a little deeper. "I can't? Seems like I am, from my point of view." He pushed deeper, using Topher's hips to pull him back.

"Your dick is too big, it'll split me in two," the brat whined, clenching down on his length.

"You're a pain-slut," Zion reminded. "You like it."

Topher moaned, his body pressing further back into Zion's cock despite his protests. "You're gonna break my ass with your big dick!"

Zion pulled out, still unsure about the brat's consent. He kept his hand on Topher's ass, though, and his cock kissing the brat's hole. He didn't say anything, just waited to see how Topher would respond. His rod ached, he longed to sink it into the pretty ass before him, but he could wait just a little longer, if he had to.

"Please, don't thrust into me all at once!" Topher begged, impaling himself on Zion's cock. He took the brat's greedy ass as consent, then grabbed his hips again and pulled him back while pushing in slowly. He didn't stop until his pubes were touching the boy's ass.

Topher was panting below him, his hands balled up in the sheets. "You're a pain-slut, aren't you, Topher?" Topher nodded his head, face pressed into the bed as he writhed, impaled on Zion's dick. "Say it."

"I'm a pain-slut," Topher moaned. "Fuck. Please, Zion, please. I need your big fat cock to ruin my asshole."

Zion pulled back until he popped from the brat's tight ass. Topher whined as he lined himself up with the boy's hole again. It pulsed against his cockhead as he pushed back through the tight ring of muscle again. Topher moaned, pressing his ass back into Zion's rod, impaling himself on it again. Zion moaned this time, then moved his hands to squeeze the firm asscheeks he was sinking into. "Your tight virgin ass feels so good," Zion praised.

Topher whined under him, pushing back, taking Zion's cock deeper and deeper. His whining soon turned into needy moans, and Zion knew he was ready. He grabbed Topher by the hips and held him still, then pulled out until just his head was inside the tight ring of muscles. Topher trembled as Zion waited, drawing it out to remind Topher who was in charge.

"Zion," the brat whined.

Zion sank into him again, the tight muscles stroking his cock in just the right way. Jesus, he loved fucking a virgin ass, and especially in drag. There was just something about taking someone's first time in a skirt that did it for him, especially when there was a little sexy, but consensual, fight in them. He pulled back and hesitated again.

"You're cherry ass is getting fucking by a man in drag," Zion whispered. "You're getting fucked by a man in a dress. How's that make you feel, Topher? Does it make you feel slutty?"

"I'm taking it in the ass from a tranny!" Topher whined.

Zion's hips paused and he swallowed down the immediate vitriol the statement filled him with as best he could. "I'm a Queen," he snapped, smacking Topher's ass with enough force to sting his hand. "Say it, that you're getting fucked by a Queen. Say it!"

Topher squealed at the impact. "Getting fucked... by a Queen," he gasped as Zion fucked him hard.

It didn't make him feel better. In fact, he felt his arousal slipping away. "That's right, you're ass is getting plowed by a Queen." He focused on the tight ass around his cock, focused on the sensations as his hips moved faster, as his thrusts grew sharper.

"No! Please, Zion, don't fuck my cherry ass as hard as you can until you nut inside me. You can't."

"Your ass is so tight, Topher." He accented his words with a sharp thrust. Topher's begging was hot, and let him move past the tranny comment and start enjoying it again.

"Fuck, yes!" Topher moaned, his hips rocking back. The brat's lack of rhythm immediately threatened to ruin this for him completely, so he grabbed his hips and held them tight, controlling all of the movement.

Zion thrust harder, earning a squeak of pleasure from the man beneath him. Topher's hips fought his control and he bit his lip, trying to push down his annoyance.

There was nothing like fucking a cherry ass. He repeated it in his head as he sped up with each thrust, trying to build up to a cadence that would get him off. Topher thrashed below him, moaning loud, still fighting his timing.

Fuck it. His fingers sank into Topher's bubble butt on either side and he thrust hard and fast, slamming himself into the tight asshole squeezing down so deliciously on his cock. Topher was whining, a mewling, moaning sound that reminded him of a cat in heat. It was annoying. He sped up, focusing on his own pleasure.

Topher's mewling grew louder as his orgasm built up, and it took effort to keep it from ruining this for him. "No!" Topher screamed. "I'm getting railed by a tran-" Zion smacked his ass again, harder. "I mean Queen! A Queen's gonna ruin my ass and pump me full of cum!"

"That's right," Zion agreed, grinding his teeth. "You're getting it from a Queen, sugar. How's it feel to get railed by a Queen?"

"No, you're ruining my ass! Don't cum inside me!" Topher beg-moaned. He mewled again, then his asshole clenched down hard.

He'd made the boy cum from just anal, and on his first time. The powerful muscles clamping down on his cock and the feeling of satisfaction he got from this achievement had him coming, slamming his hips into the brat's hips. It was... less than satisfying. He thrust harder, trying to recapture his orgasm, but the harder he tried, the faster it dissipated.

Topher was a mess below him, his whole body writhing and shaking with pleasure. Instead of a victorious feeling, it just made his disappointing orgasm that much more disappointing. He pulled out and Topher's anus gaped, shiny slick with lube. Zion squeezed his ass once, then pushed him onto his side on the bed.

"Gonna clean up and go. You can stay here if you want, it's paid all night," he told the mess on the bed.

"Wanna cuddle?" Topher whisper-asked.

Zion chose not to hear it. He didn't cuddle, he didn't get attached, and he didn't do anyone more than once. He shut the bathroom door behind him and pulled off the rubber, unimpressed with the amount of cum in it. What was wrong with him? Everything he liked was there tonight, and he got off, it just wasn't very satisfying.

Was it because Topher was annoying? Zion cleaned up his dick in the sink and dried himself off, careful not to get his skirt and panties any more messy than they already were. He frowned at his wig then shifted it back into place. He wanted to fix his make-up but he didn't want to spend any more time here than necessary.

Topher was on the bed, curled around a pillow when he came out of the bathroom. "Thanks," the brat said softly. "It was really good."

Zion met his eyes, putting on his best superficial smile. "The pleasure is mine," he said. Topher blushed, hiding his face in the pillow. "Good night, Topher. It was fun."

He left before Topher could say anything else. He hated the winter, hated that he had to wear big, bulky coats over his beautiful clothing, but it was just too friggin cold. He was pissy now, upset that his orgasm wasn't better, upset that the night had been ruined by Topher's general annoying nature.

He'd had brats as annoying as Topher before. He just couldn't put his finger on what was off, and that irritated him even more. His phone rang while he was driving it and he answered it, the call going immediately to his car through the bluetooth connection.

"Hey, Princess," he said, the first legitimate smile crossing his lips since before he picked up Topher. "What's up in your high tower?"

"Don't call me that," Dean snapped, their usual banter. "Just wanted to plan out for the New Year's party. You're doing the show that night, right?"

He pulled his wig off, no longer feeling like being Zion. "That's the plan. We do this every year."

"I know," Dean agreed. "It's just..."

"Wait a minute. You're not planning on bringing Straight-Bait, are you?" he asked, pretending to be scandalized.

Dean coughed. "Don't call him that! And, ah, I, ah... Yea. Kinda." There was a pause and D'metrius let his best friend stew a little in it, mostly because he was in a bad mood. "Is that bad?"

He exhaled dramatically. "Do you think your little straight boy can handle all of the gayness of our New Year Eve show? It might just cause him to self-destruct."

"He'll be fine," Dean insisted. "He's really, um, open minded."

"Oh?" D'metrius hummed. "Is he now? What's changed?"

"Ah, um... Don't worry about Ben, he'll be fine. I'll keep him in line."

He could hear the smile in Dean's voice. He'd been skeptical about Dean dating a straight boy, but the level of devotion that Ben had shown was completely unexpected. He still worried for Dean, his friend was fragile, but Ben was healing him. "I'm sure you will," he replied with a smirk. "You gonna spank him if he's bad?"

Dean choked, then hid it behind a cough. "So, ah, New Year's, yea?" Dean asked, bringing the conversation away from his boyfriend.

D'metrius laughed. "I figured we'd do the norm, you and Jimmy come over to my place and we get ready, pre-game a little, call an Uber, then go be fabulous. I guess you'd bring Ben, too."

"Is that, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, I mean, would it be okay?" Dean's concern was endearing.

"Princess, do you think Straight-Bait will be okay with that?" he countered.

"Don't call my boyfriend Straight-Bait," Dean complained. He continued to refer to Ben as Straight-Bait because it irritated Dean, which could be fun. "He'll be fine. He actually wants to, ah, yea."

"He wants to come watch Queens get fabulous?" he asked, skeptical.

"He's been...insistent about it, actually."

D'metrius chuckled. "He's a strange one, your straight-bait. You think he'll be okay, at the show?"

"Why wouldn't he be?" Dean snapped.

"Just figured it would be a little overwhelming is all. He's still new to all of this." He shrugged even though Dean couldn't see him. "And, he's attractive and new, so he's gonna draw some attention."

"He'll be fine," Dean said, his voice tight, letting D'metrius know he'd already had these thoughts. "I'll stay with him all night."

"Mmm-hmm," he dismissed.

"I freaking hate it when you do that, yea?"

D'metrius snorted. "I know. It's why I do it."

"Where are you going this late at night?" Dean asked, realizing he was driving.

"Hmm," he hummed. He didn't really wanna talk about it, just thinking about it was irritating him. "Going home."

"You break another pretty boy's heart tonight?" Dean asked. He could imagine the look on Dean's face and it just irritated him further.

"Maybe," he hedged. "Gotta go, Princess, it's cold out and I'm home. Talk to you later. Buh-byeeee!" He pressed the touch screen to hang up before Dean could respond, then sighed.

He loved that Dean had found someone, and that it seemed to be going so well, but it also irritated him. The worst part was that he couldn't figure out why it irritated him so much. And, he really did like Ben, but he'd never tell Dean that or he'd get all cocky about it.

He sighed, then turned his car off, not having lied about being home. His mood soured again as the disappointed feelings grew. His head was cold and he thought about putting his wig back on, but he just didn't feel like it, so he carried it carefully.

He unlocked the door to the steps of his apartment building, the second and third floors above a strip of stores on the first level. It was a really old building, and for whatever reason there was a weird indoor courtyard before the hall that led to the apartments. It was open to the ceiling, and a large sunroof let in natural light during the day. An ancient, dust-coated chandelier lit the space softly at night.

Someone had put an old leather couch against one wall, and an old dining room table with mismatched chairs in the center. Random potted plants surrounded the space, vining around the handrails on the second floor banister that looked down into the courtyard. Everyone who lived here tended to put their own little touches into the courtyard, and even he wasn't an exception. A bookshelf next to the couch had accumulated a variety of books since he'd put it there.

The room smelled fresh, even though it was winter. Usually in the summer the little girl that lived with her grandmother picked flowers for the vase on the table, but in the winter she used silk flowers. Summer or winter, they were changed out weekly. Today they were fake, overly purple lilacs with sprays of fake baby's breath interspersed.

That wasn't what made the courtyard smell so good today, though. He frowned when he found the source of the fresh scent sitting at the table, nose in a book. He looked up as D'metrius began his trek across the courtyard.

"Evening," he said, smiling at D'metrius.

He'd been hoping that Carlin wouldn't be out today, but of course he wasn't that lucky. "Hey, Carlin."

"Looks like you had a rough night?" Carlin asked, closing his book. "Wanna sit?"

"No offense, but I want a shower and some sweats." He continued to move through the courtyard, knowing that if he stopped he'd get into a conversation. Carlin had a way of making him feel uncomfortable with his choices, particularly with his side life as Zion.

Carlin shrugged his broad shoulders. He coached the high school football and baseball teams, and had played both sports himself, continuing football through college until he'd torn his ACL and ruined his ability to play. He still had the body of an athlete. D'metrius's eyes caught on the muscled biceps that disappeared under his snug t-shirt, then across his solid chest before he caught himself and turned away.

"Do I make you uncomfortable, D'metrius?" Carlin asked him just as he reached the hallway, stopping him in his tracks. "Is that why you're so standoffish with me?"

"You don't," he began, the lie tasting bad on his tongue. He turned back and saw that Carlin wasn't buying his bullshit. "Maybe a little."

"Why?" Carlin asked. "Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?"

"You mean other than this grilling you're giving me now, and your uncanny ability to be sitting here in the lobby when I'm at my least fantastic?" he asked, using sarcasm as a shield.

Carlin sniffed. "In general," he clarified without clarifying.

"I need a shower," D'metrius declared. He turned away again, refusing to run away despite his overwhelming urge to do so. He forced himself to walk calmly towards his apartment.

"Come back here when you're all cleaned up," Carlin said. He hadn't raised his voice, but he didn't need to. D'metrius understood how he could make teenagers listen to him.

"We'll see," he dismissed, walking a little faster to his apartment. He cleaned up his make-up, hung his wig, showered and changed. It was too early for bed, barely after ten, and too late to call Jimmy to hang out. He knew Dean was already busy with Ben.

Carlin's demand kept popping into his head, but he couldn't have said why. He walked to the door, then forced himself back to his couch. He wasn't anyone to Carlin, didn't owe him anything. And yet...

It was cooler in the courtyard than in his apartment, so he grabbed a hoodie and threw it on over his shirt, then slipped on his shoes and headed out. He sighed, biting his lip, unsure why he was humoring Carlin other than he'd felt off since the whole thing with Topher.

If he was being honest with himself, it had started before Topher. Tonight was just tied the whole thing together into a nice, dysfunctional bow for him. He walked softly, Carlin's back was to him, still considering turning around and locking himself back inside his apartment where he was safe from Carlin's quiet judgement.

"Wasn't sure you'd come back," Carlin said, closing his book again. D'metrius noticed he had a cup of something steaming next to him now, he must have gone home and gotten it while he'd been cleaning up. "Want some tea?"

Carlin turned to him and his heart jumped into his throat, confusing him. Those steel colored eyes saw right through him, he knew it. Could feel it. "Uh, no thanks?"

Carlin shrugged, then motioned to the chair next to him. "Have a sit, won'tcha?"

It wasn't a demand, it was an honest request. If he'd demanded him to sit he probably would've balked, just to be difficult. He sat down, feeling very uncomfortable. Carlin wasn't that much older than him, possibly ten years at the max, but he didn't feel he was on even footing with the larger man.

"Um, whatcha reading?" he asked, feeling more exposed than when he first started dressing as Zion.

Carlin flipped the book up, showing it to him. "I love a good horror novel, but they're so hard to find, the good ones. Just rereading one of my favorites tonight." The cover was faded gray, and read 'House of Leaves'. D'metrius shrugged, he'd never heard of it. "Oh. Well, it's good. Very creepy."

"Yeah," he said, feeling out of place. How was Carlin always so calm? "So, um..."

"What makes you feel so uncomfortable around me, I wonder?" Carlin mused, not actually asking him a question.

"I'm not..." He trailed off under Carlin's knowing stare.

"Sure, sure," Carlin agreed. "Relax, you're making me jumpy."

"Okay," D'metrius agreed, uncertain why the larger man made him feel so unsettled. "I guess I just had a weird night's all."

"You looked like it, when you came in earlier," Carlin agreed. "You okay?"

He frowned. "Why're you so interested in me? Why do you care?"

Carlin sucked in his bottom lip as he thought. "You might not like the answer," he eventually said.

"What kind of answer is that?!" he snapped, tired and irritated.

Carlin smiled with half of his face, a knowing smile that made D'metrius simmer. "A truthful answer," he replied.

"Just tell me," he huffed, his irritation making him, well, irritable.

That smile was really pissing him off, but also something else, something he couldn't put his finger on, but it added to him being pissed, since he couldn't figure it out. "You're my type," Carlin said, locking eyes with him. "I like you, so I wanna get to know you better. I know I'm not the type of man you're usually into, but-"

"Ah, wait, what now? Cause I thought I just heard you say that I was your type, like, ah, what?" D'metrius's brain was tired, maybe he'd misheard, or misunderstood.

Carlin sucked in his lower lip again. "You heard me the first time. I find you attractive. I, well, I'd like to ask you out on a date."

"You're gay now?"

Carlin shrugged. "I don't think it's a now or then kinda question, is it? But, yes, I'm gay."

"Since when?" he barked. "You thought that now was the right time to come out?"

Carlin rolled his eyes. "Since I first kissed a boy in high school. Been out for a while, you just never asked."

"Carter," he said, because it drove Carlin crazy when he intentionally called him the wrong name. "I've known you for, what, two years now? And it's just now you feel like telling me you're gay? You knew I was gay the whole time, and a Queen! It feels a little fishy to me, TBH."

Carlin snorted. "TBH, you sound just like my students. And, just because you never asked doesn't mean I'm not who I am, D'metrius. Or that I ever lied to you."

D'metrius thought about going back to his apartment, but he couldn't just leave now that Carlin had dropped that bomb. He felt jilted, like he'd been left out of a big secret that everyone else knew. "Any other crazy truth nuggets you wanna drop while we're at it, Calvin?"

"You aren't gonna goad me by calling me the wrong names, you know," Carlin said, smirking. "Don't you have questions?"

D'metrius mulled on the revelation for a few minutes. Carlin drank his tea, patiently waiting for him to process the information. "Why'd you tell me tonight?" he asked. "Why not tell me when you learned I was gay, or I was a Queen? It seems unfair."