She keens, her legs starting to shake, “Oh, Cas, oh shit, I’m- don’t stop, I’m gonna-” her words fall into unintelligible pleas.
Fritz groans, “Come on, Cas, make her come. I wanna watch— fuck, wanna see her come all over your face.”
I pull away just before Bel can find release, and they both let out mangled curses at me.
“I’m sorry, my Dove,” I confess against her inner thigh, “But until Fritz behaves, no orgasms for anyone.”
She whines, wiggling her hips in an attempt to force her pussy back where it belongs against my lips.
Fritz pulls on his restraints again, “Just untie me and I’ll make you come over and over again Bel. Fuck, just let me out and I’ll have you screaming in thirty seconds flat.”
The crack of my palm smacking his inner thigh is almost as satisfying as the immediate whine it pulls from him. Bel’s jaw drops at the display, her inner sadist lighting up at the way Fritz responds to the pain.
While Bel is my reason for living, there’s no denying how much I enjoy Fritz this way. Tied up and practically crawling out of his skin with need, but choosing to stay put because he wants his reward. Now I just have a wicked teammate to help me make him suffer.
Her eyes meet mine, the devil inside them begging to be loosed.
“What do you want, Bel?” I ask. “You wanna climb on top and slap him around until he behaves?”
She nods, and Fritz is panting at the thought of it. He watches her, wholly entranced, as she kneels and peels off her nightgown. We’re both utterly frozen, eyes locked on her curves. All the attention makes her blush, though she continues on, ignoring the nerves threatening to take over. When she finally crawls over his body, he’s shaking with the tension of trying to lie still.
“What’s our safe word again, Fritzy?” she asks, possibly only to prolong his torture. She’s not letting a single part of her body lay on his, keeping herself floating like an angel of cruelty above him.
He barks out a laugh, “I don’t need a fucking safe word. You can’t hurt me.”
“What is it?” she asks again, not letting his attitude deter her from her mission.
He grumbles, “Avocado.”
She leans in and whispers against his ear, “Good boy.” And the praise leaves him speechless, heaving out short, desperate breaths. She sits back, her wet pussy atop his hardness still trapped in his briefs, and he bites his lip to keep a sound inside. There on her perch, she teases, “Are you ready to behave?”
“Bel,” he growls, “I’m warning you, this isn’t-”
She slaps his cheek, the quiet impact shutting him up for a moment as the shock of the pain and pleasure ripple through him. His hips jolt up at the contact, and Bel moans, rocking her hips front to back to give him a few seconds of pleasure before doling out more pain.
“Again,” Fritz commands, forgetting this is supposed to be his punishment. “Harder.”
The next slap rings in my ears, the force of it sending his face to the side and making him whimper. “How bout now, Fritzy?” she taunts, “You gonna be a good boy for me?”
He grits his teeth, not quite ready to surrender. “My Songbird, if you don’t let me out right now-”
She slaps him again before leaning in to whisper against his lips, “That’s not what I fucking asked you, is it, Fritzy?”
I glance down and realize I’ve been palming myself through my underwear, the obscene and gorgeous display in front of me the sexiest thing I’ve witnessed in all my years. If Fritz doesn’t cut it out soon, I’m going to just fuck her and let him suffer the consequences of being left out.
“Oh, Bel—fuck,” he mumbles, “Feels so good. Your hot cunt is soaking me already, I need to feel you.”
Another slap lands on his opposite cheek. He rapidly blinks a few times, his eyes turning black for a moment before they’re back to normal and wholly focused on where Bel is rubbing herself on him. “Use your fucking manners,” she pants, nearly losing herself in the sensation of him lifting his hips to meet every rock of hers.
“Please,”finally.“Please, Bel. I just need— I need you to sit on it—fuck. Please. I’ll be so good. I promise I’ll be so fucking good for you. Just-” he whines, “sit on it for a minute,please.”
“There’s a good boy,” she coos, scooting herself off him to kneel at his side, “Lift.”
The fucking brat finally listens, lifting his hips so she can ease his briefs down. His hardness bobs up against his stomach, leaking precum and already painfully red. He groans at finally being freed, writhing as if to ease some of the ache.
When Bel grips him and gives him a few languid pumps, he shouts, his hips jolting up of their own volition.
“Oh, Fritzy,” she taunts, leaning in to lick the dripping precum off his tip, “Is all this for me?”
