Chapter 31
I'm not surprised that once the emotional roller coaster that was our Thanksgiving weekend is over, the days leading up to Christmas seem to zoom by. Maybe it's also because those days are among the best I've had in a very long time, even though at times I feel a little guilty about it.
One thing I'm not surprised at is how easily Jazz integrates himself into our daily lives again. In hindsight, the full impact of just how much I missed him while he was gone is immense, and seeing Bella act as happy and carefree as I do helps me feel a little less like I'm betraying her. Which I am sure I'm not, but having spent months locked inside my own head thinking about my issues with him has left its mark, and it takes more than a few rounds of f*cking and a nasty Scrabble tournament to leave all that behind.
Sadly, the universe hasn't gotten the memo that we would appreciate it if everything around us were to stop so we could celebrate our reunion in all sorts of ways; the time I actually end up spending with Bella and Jazz is very limited. I secretly lament that fact but try to be a good sport about it every time I slink off to the hospital. I am ecstatic when, only days before Christmas, I head home from my shift at work, and get a text message on the way that is as cryptic as it is promising.
Mr. Cullen, the college library would like to remind you of your 6:30 appoint ment at Ms. Swan's office. Please be on time and bring your overdue book s with you.
When I finally arrive home, I find the living room deserted. Taped to my intended microwave lunch-slash-dinner is a small, folded paper, covered in Bella's hasty scrawl.
Enjoy the pasta! I don't think I have to remind you to get yourself ready.
Clothes are on the bed. I'm out with Jazz to get some last minute stuff.
Love, B.
That explains why I'm on my own with just under an hour until the designated starting time of our planned scene, and I feel a little cheated of the chance to share my excitement with the only two people who might really get it on every level. Trying not to dwell on that, though, I eat the spaghetti before I take a long shower, going through the usual prep work with diligence and a significant hard-on already.
Because I dawdle a bit I miss Bella's return, finding Jazz blocking the door when I want to go downstairs to greet her, still dripping from the shower and wearing only a towel.
"Sorry, dude, but the missus needs time to get ready herself. Until she gives us a sign, we're supposed to stay in here."
I huff, but then turn around to head back into the bathroom, only to stop halfway there.
"I haven't even had a chance to talk about the scene with her yet."
He smirks and leans against the door, as if to stress that he won't let me through if he can help it.
"Trust me when I say that she doesn't need help. You should have seen her today. She's been bossy since breakfast, and I don't think she'd appreciate you trying to wrestle her out of her role, as it were."
I don't know why his words rub me the wrong way, but do my best to hide my wave of resentment towards Jazz as I return to the bathroom. It takes me another five minutes of rubbing myself down furiously and brushing my teeth to make sense of my own feelings – I'm jealous. Jealous of all the time he gets to spend with her, to be more precise, and the chance to give her the one thing I can't always provide – attention.
And I've spent the last three weeks worrying that Bella might possibly be feeling neglected because now she's no longer the only one in the world that I care about. The fact that my jealousy is completely unrelated to anything sexual only makes me feel all the more ridiculous.
Trying hard to get a grip on myself, I dress and leave the bathroom to Jazz.
By the time he's done I'm once again mostly excited, although I can't shake off my apprehension at heading completely blind into this, even more so as he seems too smug not to be in on some of the plan.
Surprisingly enough, when my phone beeps with a new text message, spelling out only a simple "I'm ready," I don't really care anymore.
"Let's do this, shall we?"
Jazz grins at my obvious excitement, then holds me back at the door.
"Okay, just so you know, Bella wants us to behave like real brats. You know, the whole spoiled rich kid, easy on the eye womanizer kind of guy neither of us was in college, simply because my parents lacked the money and you had too much decency. Or to use her exact words, 'Give me a reason to spank you."
I snort, the memory of her lolita schoolgirl act from earlier this year still fresh in my mind.
"Shouldn't be that hard to pull off, I guess."
"That's the spirit!" he laughs, then steps away to let me exit the room. The door to the playroom is closed. With a nod at Jazz, I wrench it open to stagger inside while I make up some bullshit story about a supposed conquest of mine from last night. What I really do is drink in the image presented to us.
The playroom is oddly transformed, although technically the only additions to it are the desk and a chair from downstairs; all the other usual equipment is stored away, leaving the focus on the figure currently residing in the chair.
Red lips, hair up in a severe bun, glasses, dressed conservatively in a crisp, white blouse and a dark gray pencil skirt; I've seldom seen Bella look so hot.
At first she doesn't react to our entry as she pretends to scribble notes on some printed forms. When Jazz lets out a cheesy yet incredibly funny catcall whistle, her head jerks up, annoyance in her gaze as she compresses her lips into a thin line. Even though she already has our attention, she still clears her throat, then addresses us.
"Gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to lower your voices. This is a hall of learning and needs to be quiet; please take your ruckus elsewhere."
Jazz and I exchange glances, before he pulls out a badly abused note.
"I'd love to, but this letter states that I have to be here, so I'm sorry to disappoint you. But if you give me your number, I'd be happy to make it up to you later, baby."
Bella straightens in her chair, pretending to be insulted, but for a moment she breaks role, a smile showing through the severe look she's aiming for.
"Yeah, we're here because we have to meet with the library admin, some old hag named Ms. Swan? But after we're done charming her knickers off, I'd love to get into yours, if you know what I mean."
Her gaze flickers from Jazz to me, her brows raised in a silent 'Seriously?', but she does a good job of looking unimpressed.
"You're looking for Ms. Swan? So you must be Mr. Cullen and Mr.
Whitlock?"
"In the flesh, every glorious inch of it."
While Bella manages not to react, Jazz starts to laugh at the worst line that I've probably uttered in my whole life, but her disapproving stare makes him shut up surprisingly fast.
"Well, then I am sure you will be happy to have found her."
I make a show of exchanging glances with Jazz, then beam my most charming smile at Bella.
"You're Ms. Swan? I should have guessed. With your beauty, you outshine all of the ugly ducklings populating these halls."
She doesn't even smile, which must be hard considering the bullshit I'm making up, but her utter lack of reaction is even more powerful than any biting comment she could have offered. Instead she pointedly looks at our empty hands, then back up to our faces.
"Didn't you forget something?"
"Condoms are in the car, darling, if you need any," Jazz unhelpfully supplies, before we grin at each other again as if we really think that is a great pickup line.
"I meant your books," she clarifies.
"Baby, what I can do to you they don't teach in any books," I drawl, then actually wink at her. She's obviously not impressed.
"Gentlemen, please correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't seem to be taking this matter very seriously."
"It's a bunch of stupid books," Jazz shrugs. "So what, my dad gives a couple hundred thousand to the university each year. I think they can buy new ones from that."
She purses her lips again, then looks down at her forms before she's back to glaring at us.
"This isn't about the money, and your name won't help you in this case, Mr.
Whitlock. If you don't pay the fines and return the books, I will be forced to file an official complaint with the Dean for deliberate destruction of university property, a copy of which will also be added to your permanent student records. If I remember correctly, you both have been warned that any further offenses will lead to your immediate expulsion, as agreed to by your parents."
Trying my best at a sleazy leer, I lean closer, now almost touching the desk.
"But Ms. Swan, I'm sure we can find another way to compensate you for the loss."
For a moment I almost think she's breaking role when she smiles, but then I realize it's a humorless grimace. She slides her fingers over her phone, still holding my gaze.
"Hi, this is Bella Swan from the library. I need to speak to Dean Thomas. Is he in? Why yes, please connect me. I'll hold."
"No, wait!" Jazz hollers, sounding surprisingly concerned, but Bella only cocks one eyebrow without removing the phone from her ear.
"You wanted to say something, Mr. Whitlock?"
"Don't do this, please! We didn't mean it like that, you know? We'll do anything you want, right?"
He looks over at me until I nod, then elaborates.
"Like, we'll mow you lawn, paint your house, take out the trash, wash your car, stuff like that."
"We'll even help in the library, if that's what it takes," I offer, but I can't hold my brief snicker back. Bella's eyes flicker from one of us to the other, but her gaze doesn't lose its hostile, predatory quality.
"Anything? Really?"
"Yes, anything!" we both echo, making her purse her lips yet again.
Keeping up the game, she pretends that her call finally went through, her voice going from hard to buttery soft as she tells the "dean" that she has finished updating the lists and found everything in order. I allow myself a pretend contended exhale, but before I can do more than that, Bella ends the call and fixes us both with a somewhat hungry glare.
"Just to be sure, I will keep these forms until I consider your debt repaid.
Don't worry, boys, I'm sure you're going to enjoy this just as much as I will."
She then gets up for the first time and walks around her chair to the supply cabinet. I'm surprised for real when she gets a small handheld camcorder from inside, and after fiddling with the controls, puts it up on one of the side boards. The recorder is focused on the center of her desk.
"For my own amusement later. I hope you don't mind," she drawls, then puts her hands on her hips and regards us both with a calculating look.
"Strip."
Jazz and I exchange glances, and I can tell that whatever advantage his advance knowledge has given him is now gone. I give a hint of a shrug, then a slight nod at him to go on, letting him take the lead.
"But you didn't respond at all before when we offered to f*ck you!"
Her grin is devious, and I feel a little like shying away from her when she comes stalking towards us, her high heels clicking loudly on the floor.
"That's because I still don't want to get f*cked by either of you. You said you'd do anything, and yet you balk at the simplest of things. I'm sure the Dean is still in his office; one phone call from me and this whole situation resolves itself. Do you want that?"
He shakes his head, and even manages to look somewhat chagrined.
"Good. Then be good little boys and do what I say now."
Bella turns away and walks back to the door, shutting it with an ominous sound before she returns to her desk. She seems a little more relaxed now as she sits with one leg crossed over her knee.
"I'm waiting. Don't make me tell you again or the deal's off."
Excited as I am, I decide not to make a fuss, but Jazz is a lot slower than me to unbutton his shirt and kick off his shoes. I'm already completely naked, my hands folded over my genitals in a pretend attempt at modesty.
Bella keeps watching us with a serenity that I never thought her capable of, as if she couldn't care less about having two naked men standing in front of her.
Once Jazz is completely naked, too, she allows herself a tight-lipped smile as she scrutinizes us.
"Come on, don't be so shy. Let me see what you're so proud of."
Feeling my mind already slipping into a more obedient state, I drop my hands to my sides, but Jazz is once again reluctant. From the way his whole body vibrates with tension, I'm not even sure it's only an act. I have to admit, it's funny to realize that he has almost no problem submitting to me, but Bella, in full-on Domme mode, makes his hackles rise.
Bella seems to come to the same conclusion as she gets up and walks around us once, stopping behind Jasper. She grabs his arms and pulls them to his sides, needing to use some force. In turn, she snorts when she steps to the side and glances at our cocks – mine is already screaming for attention, while Jazz isn't even semi-erect.
What she does next also comes as a surprise, and again a mixed pleasure as far as Jazz is concerned – she slaps us both in the face, Jazz only lightly, but me hard enough to make me blink with pain for a second. He grunts and automatically steps away from her while I try not to move a muscle, earning an amused snort from her as she gently strokes my cheek where she has just slapped me.
"Aren't you a good little slut? I like that at least one of you has the good sense to behave."
Both her tone and the way she pats my cheek are condescending as hell, causing an unexpectedly deep blush of humiliation to spread over my cheeks, but I'm certainly not going to complain. Jazz looks less happy but she obviously enjoys his resistance just as much as my compliance.
"I don't give a shit if you like what I make you do or not, as long as you keep doing it to my satisfaction," she tells him. The way she looks down on him translates perfectly, even though physically she's the one having to look up into his face. He looks uncertain as to how to react to her revelation but keeps his tongue, earning another smile from her before she stalks back to her chair and sits down with a fluid, elegant motion.
"This just won't do, your cock all dangling down like this, soft and small. At least I hope it gains size once it gets hard, or I will have to start to wonder if you pay the girls to tell everyone that you're hung like a horse. Come on, take care of that yourself."
Gritting his teeth, he does what she orders after spitting into his hand, pumping his cock with jerky motions that are at odds with how fast the results become visible. Bella keeps watching him with a nearly uninterested look, then glances over to me, a suddenly nasty smile on her face.
"Do you like watching your friend jerk off? Let me guess, playing football has always had a special kind of appeal for you, with the sweaty locker room camaraderie and communal showers."
While I really feel like smirking, I try to look offended, but before I can open my mouth she forestalls me with a raised hand.
"I'm not interested in hearing your lame excuses and denials. I don't give a shit whether you like pussies or cocks or both, as long as you keep behaving like the good little boy that you are."
Eventually she seems satisfied with Jazz's work and he stops at her nod, his cock now standing proudly away from his body. Reaching into the top drawer of the desk, she pulls out two small boxes. She places them both on the table, then walks around and stops behind us once more. Extricating something from the first box, she crouches down next to Jazz. He barely has time to smirk at what he likely presumes is going to be a blowjob before he finds his balls gripped tightly. Bella buckles a nifty little leather contraption around them and the base of his cock, ending with his balls pulled down and separated by a thin strap, while a thicker strap is fixed around the base of his balls. I know from experience that while somewhat uncomfortable to some, a spreader/separator combination like that won't be much of a bother to him.
When Bella turns to me and gets a different item from the second box, I realize I won't be so lucky. Still, it's mostly excitement that makes me tense when she grabs my own balls and squeezes them before she pulls them down and brings the two halves of the metal stretcher around them. I can't deny that I am a little uneasy when I realize just how heavy the stretcher is.
The fact that it doesn't just close with a buckle but is screwed shut with a small allen wrench, only adds to the feeling. It's obvious that she has put a lot of thought into selecting the items she has chosen, and I love her even more for it.
I still wince when she withdraws her hands completely and I feel the heavy pull on my balls in full force for the first time. Seeing her smug smile just makes my cock even harder, not that the heaviness and resulting pain will diminish that effect ever. A sidelong glance reveals that Jazz is somewhere between bewildered and slightly horrified, but by the time Bella does another slow walk around us he has managed to wipe the look off his face again.
"Hands behind your heads now, I don't need them getting in the way," she tells us almost casually, and when she walks back into my field of vision she's carrying a crop. Ignoring Jazz for the moment, she focuses on me, letting the sleek impact toy slide up the side of one leg and down the other before she taps my restrained scrotum with it a few times. I can't keep my low moan inside then – it hurts, but at the same time feels so unbelievably good that I'm disappointed when she stops almost immediately.
"Too easy," she smirks, then walks over to Jazz instead, who is eyeing the crop with trepidation. Since our first scene together, a handful have followed, but he hasn't been on the receiving end of anything further as I figured it was more fun for the two of us to teach him what he wants to know by turning him into my side-kick.
Without further warning she brings the crop down on his ass, making him jump and cry out in what I know is more likely shock than pain.
"Oh, did that hurt, my naughty little boy?" she drawls, then adds a few more hits in quick succession. He takes those a lot better, just gritting his teeth against the light pain, before Bella returns to me and treats my ass to the very same. Excited as I am, I don't even feel like it's anything I have to tough out, and hope that she won't just put the crop away now. It seems to be her favorite toy for when she pulls on her Big Girl Pants in the playroom, and I just love to be on the receiving end of it.
To my slight annoyance, she does put the crop down and lays it across the table, but doesn't sit down yet. Instead she gets another box from the drawer, again starting with Jazz. He looks positively wide-eyed when he sees her pull out a pair of clover clamps, prompting her to offer him another nasty smile.
"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've done your share of mauling your conquests'
tits; you can take a little of your own medicine."
Still smiling, she slowly and deliberately runs a red lacquered nail over one of his nipples until he shudders, before she pinches the clamp on, doing the same on the other side as she ignores the connective chain. When she does the same to me she's not nearly as gentle, first pinching my nipples with her sharp nails, then yanking the chain so that the clamps tighten painfully. And because she seems to enjoy being in real bitch mode today, Bella then picks up four of the small ball-shaped weights I keep for that purpose and attaches them to the middle of the chain, turning the slightly painful sensation into a challenging one. By then she's almost purring with glee as she brings her nails down the side of my torso, leaving hot trails over my muscles. She's clearly pleased at how easily she can get a few sounds of pain from me.
Then she picks up the crop and my balls tighten further with anticipation, yet instead of hitting either of us, she resumes pacing around the room.
"I still have some work to do, so you better not make a nuisance of yourselves. Step up to the desk so that your thighs are flush with it; I want to see those cocks hard and begging for attention on my table."
I immediately follow her order, too much into my role to even consider hesitating, but Jazz takes his time, bringing a small frown of displeasure to Bella's face.
"Is your resolve already so weak that you're deliberately yanking my chain?
Trust me, you don't want me to repay the favor."
Sitting down, she keeps the crop close to her hand as she picks up her pen again, idly scrawling on the paper while she forces us to wait.
The weights on the chain soon start to bother me, as does the heaviness of the stretcher. The fact that the table is a little too low, making me squat slightly with my thighs tensed, doesn't help matters, either. The way she ignores me, though, is a more cruel form of torture, although I catch her glancing in my direction every so often. Jazz isn't really faring any better although his predicament is by far not as severe as mine, but the minutes crawl by very, very slowly for both of us.
And Bella makes us wait, longer than I have ever left her hanging in a scene. On the one hand I resent her, but on the other I silently applaud her efficiency. It's rare to find someone with so much patience, and I wonder if most of it stems from the fact that, while she obviously enjoys what she's doing, she's not doing it for her own sake. The thought that being completely at her mercy could possibly mean hours spent in agonizing pain nearly makes me come as I get carried away with a few fantasies I'm sure she won't ever enact, and my excitement obviously doesn't go unnoticed.
"My, my, someone really likes this," she observes, then offers me a dark, lopsided grin. "Let me see if I can sweeten your ordeal even more for you."
She gets up and comes over to me again, her nails painfully sharp when she grabs my ass and digs them into the contracted muscles.
"Spread your legs but keep your cock on my desk. Let's see how your useless balls are doing."
I obey and slowly follow her instructions, managing to keep my cock where it is as I widen my stance as far as I can comfortably accomplish with my hands still locked beside my head. My shoulders and upper arms are already killing me, and I'm grateful when she tells me to lean forward and grab the other side of the desk.
Her touch is almost gentle when she wraps her hand around my tormented, stretched balls, but only for a moment. Then she squeezes, hard, making me scream even though I try to swallow the sound before it can escape.
Lessening the strength behind her grip a little, she continues to massage my balls, the sensation in itself adding to my lust, but also to the general pain level in my body.
"So hard and beautifully red, I like how your balls look like this. But I think you can take a little more."
I can't see what she's up to but I can feel her somehow manipulating the stretcher. Each motion makes me bite down harder on my tongue in order to keep silent, until suddenly the applied weight nearly doubles, causing another grunted shout from me.
"Now you have more of those pretty balls hanging right next to your own balls. What a poetic picture, don't you think?" she asks, then picks up the crop. "Let's see if I can make them dance."
Her assault on my ass is fast, efficient and nearly brutal, her aim a lot better than the last timw. She hits the same places over and over again, the repeated impact multiplying the resulting pain until I feel like my whole body is on fire.
"Please stop!" I cry, uselessly of course, but the tension needs to be released somehow. She ignores me, and even seems to hit me harder, until I squirm in earnest. "Please!"
"Such a pansy, really," she huffs as she stops, then rounds on Jazz while I remain panting heavily, half-bent over the desk. "Now it's your turn, babe,"
she drawls, flexing the crop menacingly between her hands. He looks ready to either bolt or use his safeword right away, but instead of tanning his ass now, she sits down on her swivel chair, and adjusts it to the lowest setting.
"Come here, over my knees."
He looks at her, perplexed and a little bit stupidly.
"Over your knees?"
"Yes, are you daft? Stand here, then bend over so that your ass is right here across my lap and your palms are flat on the floor. It wouldn't be very good if you fell down the moment I started spanking you, right? And little boys like you deserve to be spanked quite thoroughly."
Even through the receding pain I can't keep a grin off my face. I watch him move into position slowly, then rearrange himself.
"Cock between my thighs, sweets, just where you're so eager to stick it."
Jazz complies, then tries to relax as Bella squeezes her legs shut, but the way he is bent over her, he has to keep his tension up unless he wants to topple to the floor – and with his cock right where it is at the moment that would be a really bad idea.
From where I am I cannot see his face, hidden behind his blond hair, but I have a great view of his ass. When Bella starts to spank him slowly, I feel myself getting turned on more by the minute. Her motions are deliberate; the single spanks well paced with the squeezing of her thighs around his cock, leaving him room when he inadvertently moves from the impact of her palm, but keeping him locked when she's massaging the slowly reddening flesh or digging her nails into it.
"Do you like getting spanked, naughty boy?" she asks him after a while, accentuating her question with three harder hits.
"No," he groans out, his voice so obviously at odds with his physical reaction that I get a stern look from Bella, before she focuses on him again.
"I think you're lying. I think you're having a great time here, just like your friend. Aren't you?"
Jazz murmurs something unintelligible that ends in a clear moan when she hits the right spot again, earning him a snicker.
"Oh yes, you're loving this. Makes me wonder if I shouldn't stop right now."
"No!"
Her resulting laughter is priceless, and she licks her lips as she continues to spank him.
"You better show your gratitude when we're done here."
By the time she finally tells him to get up again, his ass is a uniform red color, and once I get to see his cock again I realize that he must have been very close to coming already. Looks as if spanking is definitely among the things that he likes.
Bella crosses her legs again as she looks from one of us to the other, her smile getting a little twisted around the edges.
"I think it's time that we play a game. The winner gets a special surprise."
Neither of us speaks up, causing her smile to widen into a grin. She gets up and raises her skirt until it is hiked up around her waist, revealing that she's only wearing a white lace garter belt that her stockings are affixed to, but no panties.
"Boys, the rules are simple. Each of you gets two five-minute long turns to satisfy me. Winner is the one who makes me come most often. And before you get your hopes up, you're only allowed to use your pretty mouths, nothing else."
She then looks from one of us to the other again, her gaze finally settling on me.
"I think you should start, seeing as your friend just had the pleasure of rubbing himself all over my thighs."
At her hand signal I push away from the desk, hissing slightly when the motion makes the weights on the nipple clamp chain and the stretcher swing. Moving as slowly as I can manage without being too slow, I round the table and kneel down before her. She makes me scoot back under the table so that she can put her feet, still clad in her high heels, onto the desk surface. That also leaves her p-ssy conveniently open and at the right height for me to work. Once she tells me to start, I dive in.
While she might have seemed calm and composed until now, a single lick and I can tell just how aroused and worked up she really is. Determined to do my best, I use all the tricks I know work well on her, and manage to make her come twice in the short time span that she grants me. It's fun for once to watch her not hold back in the least, and I even feel a little resentful when she tells me to get out from under the table so Jazz can take my place. On the other hand, watching him eat her out is quite the picture, too, so I can hardly complain.
Then it's my turn again and I try to outdo Jazz. Yet the moment I start teasing her opening with my tongue, my nose rubbing against her *, I can feel her tense, but not in the way I need her to. She's actively working against me, obviously enjoying me licking and sucking on her *, but not much more. When I glance up her body to her face, I see her wink at me and I realize that I'm not supposed to succeed with my task.
For a moment I'm confused, then I even feel a little bad – thinking straight isn't exactly my forte at this point with my body and mind screaming with pain and the need for my own release. Lost inside my submissive mindset, going against her orders would mean letting her down, even if that is her intention. It makes me feel helpless and frustrated at my shortcomings, but I can't ignore that wink and try, against her wish, to make her come again.
Eventually my time is up and she pushes away from me, making me feel forlorn and guilty as she signals me to get up. True resentment grips me hard again when I have to watch Jazz rise to the occasion with alacrity, and Bella gripping his hair and humping his face only makes things worse. It's not a sense of betrayal that I feel – as right now, she can do no wrong, and whatever she decides I will bow to gladly – but I hate feeling so utterly useless.
It's been a while since anyone has managed to drag my mind that far under, and while I hate how I feel right now, I love it just as much at the same time.
At least some of my forlornness must have shown on my face. Halfway through Jazz's five minutes, Bella turns her face to me, her eyes studying me intently. She's absolutely gorgeous the way her face is flushed and her eyes are wide and glassy with her impending orgasm, but the fact that it's not entirely due to my actions dampens my joy at seeing her like that. A hint of a frown appears on her forehead, but before it can develop into anything more she comes, her eyes losing focus for a few seconds.
I have to look away from her then because I feel my mood drop even more, but a moment later my eyes snap back to hers when I feel her hand slowly slide up the side of my thigh. She offers me a slightly twisted smile as she reaches for my balls, but her touch remains gentle as she strokes the stretched skin above the heavy metal ring weighing down my scrotum.
"Kiss me," she orders then, her voice a little breathy but still full of confidence and the certainty that she will be obeyed. Those two words act like a switch on the turmoil churning in my brain – suddenly I have a task, and I set to it fast. It's a needy, passionate kiss that I place on her lips, eagerly pushing my tongue into her mouth as she opens to me. Bella moans in response, the sound so hot and filled with lust that it drives the last bit of resentment away, even when her fist suddenly closes around my balls and she pulls and squeezes hard until I cry out into her mouth. I wouldn't have dared pull away from her, neither with my lower body nor my head, but the hand that has previously kept Jasper's face where she wanted it is now bunched up in my hair, tugging on my roots while she forces me to keep on kissing her through her last orgasm.
She lets go and pushes away from us both, panting heavily, a grin on her face like the cat that just licked the cream. Her eyes are sparkling with mischief, and after looking from one of us to the other a few times, her gaze settles on Jazz.
"Congratulations, I think we have a winner."
Getting up more smoothly than should be possible after coming so often and so hard in the last minutes, she pushes her skirt down her legs and straightens the fake glasses on her nose, then steps closer to him.
He winces as she reaches up and removes both clamps from his nipples, the sound quickly turning into a moan when she laps and sucks on each nipple to take the pain away. Then she removes his cock ring / ball separator contraption, her fingers kneading his freed scrotum almost lovingly.
"Are you ready to claim your prize?"
"Whenever you are," he drawls back, all cocky once more, but his obvious expectation just makes her grin widen.
"Oh, you're not going to get to f*ck me. I have no interest in becoming just another one of your conquests. No, you're going to f*ck him now," she replies, nodding in my direction.
Jazz goes eerily still at that, and for a moment I'm not sure if it's good acting or real uncertainty. It becomes obvious that it's the latter when he doesn't even try to offer any foolish, bravado-driven denial his role might warrant now. He tries to catch my gaze, but I'm playing dumb and stare at Bella's shoulder instead. I'm all for it, obviously, but don't want to break role even for a moment – she made me her bitch tonight, and it's not my place to consent to anything she orders. Call me mean, but part of me is laughing my ass off at him right now.
Bella picks up on his uncertainty just as I do, only for once she is the one who has to deal with it – and does, with uncommon gentleness in her voice, obviously talking as Bella now and not the sadistic librarian.
"Jazz, it's been twenty-three days. You two kiss, make out, grope each other, jerk each other off, give each other blowjobs, but then you always stop, and somehow I end up on the receiving end of everything else that follows. I really don't mind getting DP'd on a nearly daily basis, but it's so obvious that you're stalling – and just to be clear, I mean both of you – that I, at least, am getting tired of this. I think it's obvious that you both want this. Don't even try to deny it because right now I'm holding the obvious sign of your eagerness in my hand. If you really need an incentive, here you go. Put on a show for me, and make it worth those twenty-three days of my mind running wild."
He doesn't say anything but his answer is obvious when he straightens, visibly shaking off uncertainty and doubt.
"And just in case you missed the glaring neon sign, he doesn't want you to be nice and gentle and thoughtful – he wants to be f*cked. So do both of yourselves a favor and f*ck him," she helpfully supplies as she steps away from him, succinctly biting off the last two words of with such heat that my body almost physically responds to her demand. Jazz raises his brows at her questioningly but she doesn't react, silently telling him to just go ahead.
Turning away from him, she sits back down in her chair, relaxed but once again assuming that elegant yet confident position that she has shown so often today. She reaches into the drawer, takes out a bottle of lube and puts it down on the desk top, the sound strangely ominous.
As if that were a sign – which in a way it really is – Jazz breaks his momentary apathy and crosses the short distance between us. Gone is the hesitancy, gone is all the doubt; all that's left is horniness and his obvious intent to take his satisfaction where he can. He's rough as he grabs the hair at the back of my head and forces me to face him, almost sneering into my face as he pulls me close.
"You're going to suck me off now, bitch, and you better do a good job or I'll find something else besides my cock to ram up your ass!"
Normally I would have laughed at a sentence like that, but right now it makes my knees weak. That is not a bad thing as he pushes me down onto them a moment later, grabbing my head with both hands after he shoves his straining cock into my mouth. While I'm not exactly out of practice, his forcefulness surprises me and makes me choke. Instead of easing up, he holds me hard against him for several seconds while I struggle feebly, then only lets up long enough for me to draw a gasping breath. I love how he shows no mercy and starts ramming his cock into my mouth before I can start sucking on my own, and doesn't even ease up when I do my very best to add to his enjoyment.
The roughness of our motions does absolutely mean things to the weights still fixed to the connective chain of my nipple clamps, distracting me from the blowjob and giving him an excuse to be even more 'unsatisfied' with my compliance.
"Do you have something here that I can get his hands out of the way with?
He's struggling too much for my comfort."
From the edge of my field of vision, I see Bella get up but I can't concentrate on what she's fetching as Jazz resumes f*cking my throat. I find out soon enough when the cool steel of a handcuff suddenly bites into my left wrist, then my right, as Bella pulls my arms together behind my back.
"Does our little f*ck toy not like being used like this? Such a shame, because I love watching you like this," she purrs into my ear, then resumes her place as a spectator.
Jazz goes right on, obviously enjoying my increased degree of helplessness, and it doesn't take long until he shoves his cock into me as far as possible, and keeps my face pressed against his body while he shoots his load down my throat. I try to relax but eventually my gag reflex kicks in again, making me cough and sputter once he lets go, but he doesn't show any mercy.
He draws me to my feet by grabbing my right elbow, then drags me over to the desk. I grunt loudly when he slams my body against the sturdy wood, the edge digging into my thighs. He keeps holding me right there with one hand in my hair as he draws my head back painfully, exposing my neck to him. I shout again when he suddenly bites down on my shoulder in a weird display of dominance, but I can't deny that I get off on that, too. Keeping my head bent back and to the side like that, his other hand gropes for the nipple clamp chain, and yanks on it hard when he finally gets a grip on it.
My cry is one of real agony. I'm sure that if he realized just how much he's really hurting me, it would disturb him, but I'm quite happy with the fact that it doesn't. Things get even worse when he doesn't detach the first clamp neatly but pulls it off, then pinches my nipple deftly between his thumb and forefinger. I see Bella wince but she doesn't say anything, remaining sitting with her legs crossed and her fingers laced together over her knee.
I manage not to wallow like a baby when he removes the second clamp, but my nipples are still throbbing with pain when he pushes me down onto the table, his hand now at my neck to keep me down. He pushes my right knee upwards until it stays pressed into the wooden top, too. The move thankfully raises my ass a little more in the air and my cock is no longer wedged between table and my body. He briefly strokes it as he pushes it in the direction of my raised thigh.
More for show than anything else, I try to fight, but I'm helpless with my hands still cuffed behind my back. Instead of slapping my ass for that, Jazz grips my still weighted-down balls and pulls them further away from my body while at the same time squeezing them roughly, making me cry out –
and go still – again. He keeps up the pressure for a few more seconds, then increases it until I start struggling in earnest. Unlike Bella, he's a better judge of how far he can go there, and is quite happy to push that boundary.
I'm panting with relief when he lets go of my tortured balls. His grip on my neck remains even while he opens the bottle of lube with his other hand and pours a very liberal amount down my ass crack. I feel some of it dribble down my painfully extended scrotum, too. Before I can wonder if it was just an accident, he resumes kneading my balls deftly, if less painfully than before.
"You like that, don't you?" he observes, his voice a mean rasp in my ear as he leans into me. He switches from holding my neck to shoving my shoulders into the wood with one forearm pressing horizontally into my shoulder blades. I grit my teeth, trying not to make a sound, but it's a useless endeavor. My pants and grunts soon fill the air of the playroom.
The way my cock keeps rubbing against my thigh only increases the need to come, and I'm nearly there when the bastard stops.
F*ck, but sometimes I hate being a good teacher.
Jazz waits a while before he pours more lube between my ass cheeks, then starts to spread me open. He's neither gentle nor slow, starting with two fingers that he really has to work into me, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from shouting at him to stop being such a dick. Eventually my sphincter gives and I start to relax, enjoying the whole thing a lot more now.
He keeps pushing, jabbing three fingers fast and deep into me, and I'm already close to coming again when he stops and withdraws completely, also removing his arm from my upper torso.
For a moment I consider trying to rear up, but I really, really want his cock in my ass next, so I remain sweating and panting where I am. Jazz lubes up his dick while Bella still pretends to be mostly unaffected by what is going on right in front of her. I'm a little disappointed that she doesn't seem to want to finger herself while she watches us f*ck, but it fits the role she's been playing perfectly – and somehow that cold curiosity is a huge turn-on, too.
Finally he's done stalling and I feel Jazz's cock slide into me, meeting little resistance after the delicious abuse I already suffered at his fingers. He doesn't dawdle, doesn't wait, but grabs my hips tightly and starts f*cking me without further ado. The sheer power of his motions makes my body and the table underneath me rock while his balls slap against mine, the whole to and fro motion adding yet more pain to my scrotum as my balls swing with each of his thrusts.
I can't hold back and I don't even try, giving myself over to the climax. It nearly wipes out everything around me for a few seconds, then adds a heightened sensitivity to the sensations assaulting my body. Having come in my mouth not long ago, Jazz holds out a lot longer, pounding into me hard and fast until I feel like I can't stand it any longer before he orgasms himself. He sags down on top of me, completely spent in more ways than one, waiting until his slowly softening cock slides out of me.
I'm so tired that I don't even move when he pushes away from me, leaving me lying like that on the table. I'm still trying to gather my wits and strength when Bella gets up and removes first the cuffs, then the weights from the stretcher and finally the hellish thing itself. Unable to hold in the whimpers of pain anymore, I scrunch my eyes shut and ball my hands into fists as I tough out the final waves of pain, eased by her gentle hand massaging my tormented balls until I eventually fall silent.
I want nothing more than to crawl into bed now and sleep curled around whoever comes close enough to grab – and maybe take a shower first, seeing as this time it's me ending up covered in sweat, come, snot and tears – but Bella quickly disabuses me of that notion. She throws my discarded clothes at me, telling me to get dressed. I stare somewhat balefully at her but she only answers with a nasty grin, still acting all unapproachable bitch.
When I'm finally done I join Jazz in front of her desk, not looking at him. I figure I might as well finish this with the minimum amount of roleplay as Bella has already made me get dressed again. We watch in silence as she shuts off the camcorder, then puts it into her desk before she sits back down and regards us levelly. With mirth I notice that she stays clear of the desk, the 'forms' on top now all crumpled and smeared with come, but that doesn't diminish the effect of the way she watches us at all.
"I think that went quite well," she surmises, allowing herself a small smile. "I expect that in the future you will pay better respect to the rules of this library. Just to be sure, I will keep the video file of this enlightening little tryst, and should either of you ever disturb the peace of these halls again or be late in returning your books, I will be very thorough in refreshing your memory. Although, if you feel the need for some extra credit, feel free to approach me about that in the future. Now off with you, I don't have the patience to keep wasting my time with imbeciles like you!"
Clearly dismissed, we both nod, then turn around and trudge out of the room. I close the door behind me without making much of a sound.
I haven't yet fully turned around when Jazz sags down onto the floor, obviously just as tired as I am, but with a huge grin on his face.
"Shit, I didn't think she could be that scary! Can you believe that?"
I give him a long look, then laugh, mostly at his incredulity.
"Dude, accept it, she's no longer the little girl whose pigtails you used to yank! Of course she can be scary as hell. She's probably just imagining how she herself would want to be barked at, to turn that around on us. And, by the way, do you ever intend to play with a guy other than me?"
My question seems to come out of the blue for him, and he clearly doesn't know how to take it.
"Not really. I meant it when I told you that aside from you, I think I'm still mostly straight. And I don't think I would want to play with another guy even if I found him attractive. I mean, for me, this is something personal, between us, and only the three of us."
"Good," I huff, then sit down beside him, wincing when my ass hits the floor. The whole region between my hips and my knees feels like a war zone, and while I love how the residual pain makes me feel, that doesn't mean that I also have to like all of the discomfort it brings.
Only when I relax do I realize that Jazz keeps staring at me a little weirdly.
At my raised brow, he narrows his eyes at me a little.
"Are you jealous? That I might someday want to play with someone else?"
"No!" I quip, then realize that both my tone now and the way I've asked the question could lead him to think just that. "No, I'm really not." I try to diffuse the situation, but when he keeps looking at me like he doesn't believe a word I say, I start laughing.
"Jazz, no. The reason I asked is because if you ever intend to play with someone who's not as much of a masochist as me, I'd have to drag you into the playroom now and show you, first hand, just how much what you did to me hurt. Plain and simple, it's a safety concern, not a passive-aggressive way of weaseling some kind of admission or promise out of you."
For a moment he grins with relief at the misconception, but then looks guilty.
"That bad? Shit, I didn't think... but you didn't really protest and I -"
"Stop rambling," I huff, then snort. "Of course I didn't protest. I was having the time of my life between her going all Ice Queen Bitch on me and you finally accepting and acting on your own dominant need. It was all well within the limits of what I can take, but it felt like you were caught up in the moment and somewhat oblivious of the pain you were causing, and it's my job to rub your nose in that now. You've still got a lot to learn, young Padawan."
As I've intended, he chuckles at the quote, then the quality of his gaze changes a little, the intensity rising. I don't have to wait long before he leans over and kisses me, finding me only too happy to participate.
Bella finds us like that a little while later, sweaty and tired on the floor, making out like two high school kids in the backseat of a car. Her amused laughter prompts us to break off and get up, and we dutifully follow after her as she walks through the bedroom and on towards the shower. On the way she discards the heels she's carrying in one hand while she unbuttons her blouse with the other.
If Jazz or I had been any less dead tired we might have tried to playfully get some payback from her now by undressing and teasing her, but as it is, we're barely able to keep standing upright and make it into the shower. She joins us once she has removed her own clothes, still grinning at us while she squeezes between us to reach her body wash. Not even her ass rubbing against my abused crotch makes me want to bend her over and f*ck her. Well, maybe in a few hours, when I'm still sore but emotionally back to normal enough that I feel the need to wrestle control back from her.
Right now I'm happy to leave it at soaping up her tits while I stand behind her and kiss her slowly and tenderly.