by Kira Barker
“Please.”
“Five minutes. No, make that ten. And be thorough with the cleaning.”
Now that sounded promising, and I already felt like rubbing my hands together as I got to my feet, but then Jack spoke up. “Mind if I join you?”
Simon raised his brows at me, and I just shrugged. “Fine with me.” Part of me wanted to add that was only the case if he knew to behave himself, but I swallowed that; that one talk we’d had when Simon was away had hopefully left an impression on him.
“Great,” Jack replied, wringing his hands in what was clearly nervousness. And not just that, he suddenly looked tense as hell as he kept regarding Simon. “Do you mind if we try something different?”
“Like what?” Simon didn’t exactly sound hostile, but the enthusiasm that had been on his face at the idea of having Jack along was gone almost immediately.
“Well,” Jack started, raking his fingers through his hair, and followed it up with a placating smile. “Yeah, look at me, all tongue-tied and nervous. So, I’ve been thinking.”
“Always a bad idea,” I interrupted him, hoping to diffuse the tension. Simon sent me a long, somewhat warning look that I chose to ignore, while Jack seemed positively grateful.
“I’ve been wondering if, maybe, you’d mind if I, ah—“
“Just spit it out,” Simon growled, but it was obvious that he was hard-pressed to hide a smile now. It really didn’t happen that Jack was at a loss for words. Like, ever.
“So far, I’ve always been your trusty sidekick,” Jack needlessly explained. “I’m wondering how being on the other side of the equation is.”
Simon looked from Jack to me, and when I didn’t protest, he focused on Jack again. And it wasn’t just that neutral glance from moments before, but that intense, slightly threatening, authoritative look that made me instantly wet whenever it was directed at me. Hell, even seeing it directed at Jack now about accomplished the same.
“What you’re hemming and hawing about, really, is that you want to submit to me?” he asked, a slightly amused smile coming to his face.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Jack confirmed, then looked away, his cringing kind of adorable. “You know that I have like absolutely zero experience, and I’m pretty sure your expectations in me are about zilch, but you always tell me that I shouldn’t knock something before I try it? So, yeah, I’d like to try. And even if it makes me sound even more like a coward, I feel a lot more comfortable about this when Erin’s around and it’s not just the two of us.”
I couldn’t help but grin at that. “Yeah, we already know that you always need me to hold your hand when you’re dipping your toes into a new pond.”
Simon shared my smile, but only with his eyes. A moment later the intensity ratcheted up in them again as his gaze bored into mine. “You, shut up. Fifteen minutes, and you help him. Any mistake he makes until we start the scene is on you. Do I really need to tell you what will happen if either of you displeases me?”
“No, Sir,” I quickly replied, then grabbed Jack’s arm and pulled him after me toward the bathroom.
Chapter 18
I’d never particularly felt like a creature of grace, but kneeling beside Jack, my arms crossed behind my back, watching him fidget, moving this way and that, made me think a lot more of my attempt at poise. Maybe that was a little evil—and I was the first to admit that it had taken me a while to learn to fall into this relaxed, pre-scene calm—but I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. In pretty much all sex-related things, Jack had always been miles ahead of me, but now it was strikingly obvious who was the newbie and who was the pro. Or if not exactly a pro, at least no longer green-behind-the-ears nervous.
Exhaling slowly, I closed my eyes, but the actual sound of movement coming from my left made me open them again, still smirking. Jack sent me a look that was half-annoyance, half-panic, and shifted his weight back again so he was practically sitting on his heels. Not that I minded—tense as he was, his ass looked particularly bite-worthy from where I was kneeling. And the fact that his cock was, if not completely hard yet, hard enough to bob up and down with each motion made it pretty obvious that all that fidgeting was more from excitement than anything else.
I could understand his slight trepidation, but wondered if it went deeper than just that mix of uncertainty and not wanting to screw up that always made my skin crawl before either calm settled over me, or Simon rescued me from myself with his presence. But Jack’s sudden interest in exploring a submissive side that I didn’t think he actually had made me want to ask him why he thought this was a good idea. And why now? Was this his way of trying to fit in? Did he really feel that left out and thought this was the way to change that?
“Why are you grinning like that? I’m not looking that ridiculous, right?”
Jack’s almost-squeak made me snort, derailing my train of thought, which was probably a good thing.
“No, but you look as nervous as, how does that saying go? A cat in a room full of rocking chairs?”
Maybe looking at his cock while saying that was just plain evil, but it made him shift yet again, only increasing my mirth further.
“Yeah, like you were so damn calm when you skidded into the living room all those months back. You were practically shaking with nerves,” he grunted.
“And wouldn’t things have panned out differently if I’d laughed my ass off that day,” I shot back, but took the sting out of my words with a smile. “You just look adorable. Don’t fret it.”
“Like that’s gonna help,” he replied, but then cut off when the door opened behind us. I usually didn’t close it but had figured that a little warning might help, just in case Jack wouldn’t shut up. He started at the sound and gave a last full-body twitch, then settled more relaxed into his kneeling position. And now it was me who had a little bit of trouble remaining still. Perfect.
Exhaling slowly, I forced my muscles to lock in place, then relax one after the other. This wasn’t really different than any of the other times that I’d been up here. And it wasn’t like Simon would go any easier on me just because Jack was here. Or was he? That thought made my stomach flip, and not in a good way.
Simon halted just inside the room after closing the door behind him, his eyes roaming over Jack, then me—from what I could tell, half-turned away as I was. Jack was closer to the door, so it made sense that Simon would look at him first, right? And now step forward and idly skim his fingers over his shoulder in an absentminded caress as he walked past him, deeper into the room.
Only that I never got any kind of soft touches. Not that I wanted them at all. Now, hair pulling and sneering into my face? That was more my thing. Not that I got that now, either, as Simon pretty much ignored me—at least physically—as he stopped in front of us, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded us levelly, a slight smile on his face. And it wasn’t exactly a nice smile. Now that was more like it!
“So what am I going to do to you today?” he mused aloud, his voice taking on a playful lilt. I had a few ideas, but of course didn’t offer them. And Jack? He fidgeted—what else?
Taking in our reactions—or lack thereof—made Simon’s smile widen, and he turned away, stepping toward the large X-frame of the St. Andrew’s cross dominating the wall to the right of the supply cabinets.
“Come over here. On your knees,” he clarified when Jack made as if to get up. I followed the directions suit, but not entirely excited about them. “Get up,” he told Jack when we finally got there, making an absentminded “stay down” gesture to me. Like you’d do to a dog. It seemed appropriate that it made my hackles rise, but I did my best to quench the annoyance welling up inside of me. And being now approximately at eye level with Jack’s cock was a bonus, too.
Simon had Jack step up to the cross, facing the room, then proceeded with restraining him to it by ankle and wrist cuffs. That left Jack standing kind of awkwardly with his legs and arms spread, on full display. I definitely approved. Most of the nervous twitc
hing was gone now, but he looked the opposite of relaxed where he was chained to the wooden frame. Simon’s attention remained on him as he looked him up and down, then reached for his chin and held it in place, looking deep into his eyes.
“For the next hour, you’re mine to do with as I see fit. And, trust me, I’ll put you to good use.”
I couldn’t say why, but the sentence made me want to laugh out loud so much that I had to bite down hard on my tongue to stop myself. It wasn’t just that it sounded ridiculous—most of the verbal exchanges up here did—but it was just too cliché, and, really, why would anyone talk shit like that? But thankfully I went ignored, so the shit-eating grin that was, without a doubt, plastered on my face went unnoticed.
Simon let go of Jack’s face in favor of running his right palm up and down his torso, stopping shy of his dick while his eyes remained on the other man’s face. Jack didn’t look away, either, although he started squirming again.
“I’m well aware that you’re not doing this because you’re actually curious,” Simon went on, his tone staying the same, but I couldn’t help but feel like now there was something else in his voice. A hint of scorn, maybe? “I don’t know why, but you seem to believe that you can make things up to me by suffering a little. Is that what you want? Me making you suffer?”
Now that sounded more like what I wanted to hear, but first, it wasn’t directed at me, and it came with such a teasing quality that any kind of threat the words might have held was lost completely. So kid gloves it was for Jack, it seemed. Not that I minded—but I would have preferred to do something else than just kneel there and watch Simon continue to fondle him.
“The thought might have crossed my mind,” Jack replied, finishing the sentence with clear hesitation. It was obvious that he was considering whether he should use any kind of appellation or not. If I’d done that, Simon would already have had my ass—also because it would have come in clear provocation—but with Jack, his smile just widened.
“And you think that I will go easy on you now?” Simon asked, and on the next upward swipe of his hand, he grabbed Jack’s nipple between forefinger and thumb and twisted hard, drawing a quick gasp from Jack. He didn’t leave it at that, but bent his head, flicking the pebbled flesh with his tongue before sucking on it briefly. Jack’s eyelids flickered shut for a moment, and he let out the softest of moans.
I couldn’t help but get a little bored. And kneeling for an extended amount of time on the hard floor really didn’t do much to improve my mood.
Either I’d made a small sound I hadn’t noticed, or Simon finally remembered that they weren’t completely alone, but as he moved away from Jack, his gaze zoomed to me. Immediately, I straightened my posture, but he didn’t chide me for my momentary slump, no. Instead, he snapped his fingers at me, then made a beckoning gesture.
“Come here. Suck him until he’s hard, but make sure that he’s nowhere near coming yet.”
It was somewhat of an improvement, but instead of easing me into a more relaxed mindset, Simon’s order just made me want to bristle. Yet instead of mouthing off, I followed along, waddling forward on my knees until I was right in front of Jack, where I captured his cock with my lips and sucked him into my mouth. He immediately jerked his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into my mouth, which in turn made me choke, but that I really didn’t mind. Choking was fun, particularly when it was on a lot of cock eagerly thrusting into my mouth. Now if Simon would just grab my head and keep it locked there, forcing me to just deal with it, or actively move it up and down on Jack’s cock, leaving me no choice but to do as he made me do…
But no. He just watched me for a moment, as if I needed checking on to make sure that I didn’t, I don’t know, lick Jack’s knee instead, then his focus was back on Jack.
“I know that you’re not into pain, so I won’t hurt you. Much,” he promised, then quickly slapped Jack’s thigh right next to my head, followed by his abs and the left side of his pecs. Jack grunted, but the way his cock kept hardening in my mouth made it all too clear that he really wasn’t averse to the—admittedly light—abuse.
I wouldn’t have minded some of that—and a lot more—myself.
Easing up, Simon switched to light caresses again, running his palm over Jack’s arm, then back down to his chest again. “Know what edging is?”
Now there was that typical, at least somewhat sadistic, tone in Simon’s voice that I so loved, and Jack’s answering groan was a delicious sound to go with it.
“You won’t let me come,” he replied, sounding surprisingly happy about that, if already frustrated.
“Not until the end, no,” Simon agreed, his smile widening.
“Shit.”
A sentiment I shared, already having been through that lesson, and not even that time with the magic wand could change my mind about that. If anything could undo me up here, it was not being allowed to come.
Then again, being pretty much ignored was starting to become a close second, I had to admit.
Simon then left us—Jack, of course, unable to do anything, me still sucking his cock, but not really enthusiastically so—only to return with a thin length of paracord. I was almost happy when Simon told me to back off, because things couldn’t really get any more boring than this. And there was a lot that he could do with rope. Like finally tie my hands so I could stop wondering what to do with them. Or tie my breasts, which would, over time, get restricting and uncomfortable enough to give me something to focus on and get lost in.
Or, of course, he could tie it around the base of Jack’s fully rigid cock and his balls, turning his scrotum into a tight, somewhat uncomfortable looking package, with his dick now jutting out and upward. Very nice to look at, really—but not doing anything for me.
It occurred to me that, maybe, I shouldn’t have been acting like a spoiled brat inside my head, but I simply couldn’t help myself. This was not what I was used to up here. And this was not what I wanted to get up to.
But maybe that was exactly the point? During a scene, at least, Simon was one observant fucker, and it wasn’t beyond him to teach me lessons the direct way rather than just talk about whatever he thought might be an issue. Patience is a virtue, as they say, and not one I could claim as my own. Maybe this was his way of rubbing my nose in the fact that I could be one demanding bundle of need?
I could only hope that he’d move on with it quickly, though, or else this was going to drag on for a long, long time.
But that realization did at least a little bit to soothe my mind, and when Simon ordered me to lick and suck on Jack’s now painfully constricted balls, I set to the task with a little more fervor. And it was kind of fun, teasing him like that, with the occasional bit of teeth that made him groan, so utterly incapable of evading me.
Simon continued alternately touching and slapping Jack lightly, making his body jerk and relax, his skin reddening in the patches that got the most attention. My vantage point wasn’t optimal, but even from this angle I could easily tell when he hit a little too hard, or tickled Jack somewhere, rather than adding to his increasing arousal. That, in turn, made me wonder just how easy to judge my own reactions must usually be when it wasn’t just soft moans and slight jerks, but me pretty much throwing my entire body into every physical reaction, most of the time screaming for more, even if it hurt like hell. That, in turn, eased my mind further about intense scenes like that one time when I’d pretty much begged Simon to whip me into oblivion, and he’d been—if reluctantly at first—happy to oblige. But it also hammered down that he was actively ignoring me now, and with every minute that passed with my back aching and my legs starting to cramp, that galled me more and more.
I was close to considering simply stopping and provoking Simon into doing something about me being recalcitrant, but the fact that Jack was along for the ride stopped me each and every time I considered that. I knew that he didn’t like watching me writhe in pain—even though he might still get off on the enjoyment I derived from
it—and today seemed like the wrong time and place to push him on that. And still…
Simon eventually grew tired of teasing Jack like that and pushed me away, then unhooked Jack’s shackles from the cross and led him—walking!—across the room to the all too familiar padded bench. Not knowing what to do, I remained where he’d left me, watching over my shoulder as he snapped the hooks on the wrist cuffs to the inlets at the bottom end of the bench, leaving Jack hunched over.
“Slut, come here,” Simon barked, those three words both making me snap back to attention and annoying the hell out of me. So now he remembered that I was here? And here to live out the slutty side of me, that, quite frankly, at the moment was less than enthusiastic about being referred to in this way. Which was ridiculous, because in the attic I was always Simon’s slut, and usually just hearing him refer to me like that made me soaking wet, but now it had the opposite effect. But, of course, I still went along, hobbling my way over to the bench, then got up and climbed on it when Simon told me to.
Lying on my back, I felt like this was some improvement, particularly as it now left Jack hunkering over the bottom half of my body—never a bad thing. And it left Simon with so many opportunities—he could just tie my wrists to the top end of the bench to lock me in place, he could whip my exposed breasts, or put clamps on my nipples…
Only what he did was tell Jack to get to work eating me out, before he retreated to get the lube and start working his fingers into Jack’s ass, leaving me staring, utterly frustrated, at the ceiling above me. Even with the soft light in the room and the residual glow of the city, I could see that the stars were coming out, turning the darkening sky into a sparkling blanket right out of a fucking rom com.
Screwing my eyes shut, I tried to shut up my mind and just focus on the physical sensation. With my heels propped up on Jack’s shoulders, my legs were only spread enough to give him good access but made the light stubble on his chin and cheeks rasp against the insides of my thighs, adding more—mostly welcome—friction. And it wasn’t like what he did with his lips and tongue wasn’t feeling good—because it was—but I could tell that he was terribly distracted by what I figured must be massive blue balls by now with that cord still keeping his genitals constricted and no direct stimulation to push him just that little bit further. And there was the fact that he was starting to get more sloppy the harder Simon was stroking his prostate, and, really, why was I doing this to myself?