(Note: The words “cunt” and “clit” are used for Jon’s genitalia here, and “cock” and “folds” are used for Tim’s.)
Tim had forgotten his phone, which was the only reason he was at the Magnus Institute at 8 PM on a Tuesday.
He walked past Jon’s office on his way to the break room, just as he did most mornings. He heard whispered voices in Jon’s office, but he didn’t really take note: Jon usually stayed late, and if Jon had happened to have forgotten something and come back for it like Tim did, Tim would just look stupid chastising his boss for staying too late again.
He managed to get back to the break room and retrieve his phone without incident, but he paused just outside of Jon’s office, hand hovering over the door. He’d already decided not to intervene… but anyone else being at work at 8 PM on a Tuesday seemed just too sad to be allowed to continue.
Then he froze. That wasn’t Jon’s voice. It was Martin’s.
What the hell was Martin doing in Jon’s office? Late or otherwise. As much as he’d known, Martin was still jumpy when Jon so much as looked in his direction.
“Martin-“ Tim hears, just as frustrated as ever. “Why are you here?”
“Look, Jon,” Martin responded, with a soft thud that sounded like someone being lifted onto a desk. “If you were just honest about what you wanted, all you had to do was ask nicely.”
“I don't- I don’t want this, Martin, get off me-“
Tim heard the wet sounds of kissing and felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. God, this was making him wince. Sure, he’d known Martin was sweet on Jon, but he’d never imagined Martin capable of… whatever this was. Then again, if he was wrong… but what else could it be? Maybe they were having some kind of argument?
“Martin. What would you have me do? I’ll do anything, please just-“
“Hmm. Well…” Tim heard footsteps from inside as Martin continued, “I think maybe I’ll just start with this.” And, okay, that was a smack if Tim had ever heard one. “I think maybe you should be punished a little for being so rude to everyone today.”
“Martin!” More kissing sounds, which turned to gasping as they broke apart. “I’m… please… I need…” So… maybe Jon was okay?
“I think you need to be touched, Jon. You’ve soaked through your poor jeans. I think maybe I could touch you, if you just admit you want this.” That… sounded a lot less okay.
“Martin, please…” Jon’s breathing was labored now. “Please, I’ll walk out of here, and we never have to tell anyone about this, I promise.”
“Still denying it?” Martin said, almost teasingly. “Well, you’ve already ruined those pants. No shame in getting them off.”
Jon made an affronted noise as Tim heard clothes rustling from where he was standing. He rested his hand on the doorknob.
Martin sighed. “Can’t exactly walk out of here now, can you?” he said quietly. “Let’s see what you’re working with. Been using toys lately?”
“Martin, I don’t see how that’s any of your-“ kissing sounds again.
“You’re still soaked, Jon. Maybe I’ll just give your poor little cunt what it’s so clearly desperate for.”
Okay, that did it. Tim didn’t care what the circumstances were or not, if there was even a tiny chance that this was what he thought it was, he had to get Jon out of there.
“Jon, c’mon, I’ll get you home and I promise we won’t have to talk about this,” he said, crossing the office in a few quick paces. As he’d assumed, Jon was currently sitting around his desk, pants tangled around his ankles.
“Tim, what?” Jon asked. He glanced quickly back at Martin inquisitively, but the sheer terror on Martin’s face seemed to make him wince. “Tim, stop!” he said, twisting his hand away as Tim’s own hand closed around Jon’s wrist. “We were doing a scene.”
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timeasmymeasure
Fill: Jon/Martin/Tim, CNC, Humiliation Kink
Date: 2021-01-07 09:20 pm (UTC)Tim had forgotten his phone, which was the only reason he was at the Magnus Institute at 8 PM on a Tuesday.
He walked past Jon’s office on his way to the break room, just as he did most mornings. He heard whispered voices in Jon’s office, but he didn’t really take note: Jon usually stayed late, and if Jon had happened to have forgotten something and come back for it like Tim did, Tim would just look stupid chastising his boss for staying too late again.
He managed to get back to the break room and retrieve his phone without incident, but he paused just outside of Jon’s office, hand hovering over the door. He’d already decided not to intervene… but anyone else being at work at 8 PM on a Tuesday seemed just too sad to be allowed to continue.
Then he froze. That wasn’t Jon’s voice. It was Martin’s.
What the hell was Martin doing in Jon’s office? Late or otherwise. As much as he’d known, Martin was still jumpy when Jon so much as looked in his direction.
“Martin-“ Tim hears, just as frustrated as ever. “Why are you here?”
“Look, Jon,” Martin responded, with a soft thud that sounded like someone being lifted onto a desk. “If you were just honest about what you wanted, all you had to do was ask nicely.”
“I don't- I don’t want this, Martin, get off me-“
Tim heard the wet sounds of kissing and felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. God, this was making him wince. Sure, he’d known Martin was sweet on Jon, but he’d never imagined Martin capable of… whatever this was. Then again, if he was wrong… but what else could it be? Maybe they were having some kind of argument?
“Martin. What would you have me do? I’ll do anything, please just-“
“Hmm. Well…” Tim heard footsteps from inside as Martin continued, “I think maybe I’ll just start with this.” And, okay, that was a smack if Tim had ever heard one. “I think maybe you should be punished a little for being so rude to everyone today.”
“Martin!” More kissing sounds, which turned to gasping as they broke apart. “I’m… please… I need…” So… maybe Jon was okay?
“I think you need to be touched, Jon. You’ve soaked through your poor jeans. I think maybe I could touch you, if you just admit you want this.” That… sounded a lot less okay.
“Martin, please…” Jon’s breathing was labored now. “Please, I’ll walk out of here, and we never have to tell anyone about this, I promise.”
“Still denying it?” Martin said, almost teasingly. “Well, you’ve already ruined those pants. No shame in getting them off.”
Jon made an affronted noise as Tim heard clothes rustling from where he was standing. He rested his hand on the doorknob.
Martin sighed. “Can’t exactly walk out of here now, can you?” he said quietly. “Let’s see what you’re working with. Been using toys lately?”
“Martin, I don’t see how that’s any of your-“ kissing sounds again.
“You’re still soaked, Jon. Maybe I’ll just give your poor little cunt what it’s so clearly desperate for.”
Okay, that did it. Tim didn’t care what the circumstances were or not, if there was even a tiny chance that this was what he thought it was, he had to get Jon out of there.
“Jon, c’mon, I’ll get you home and I promise we won’t have to talk about this,” he said, crossing the office in a few quick paces. As he’d assumed, Jon was currently sitting around his desk, pants tangled around his ankles.
“Tim, what?” Jon asked. He glanced quickly back at Martin inquisitively, but the sheer terror on Martin’s face seemed to make him wince. “Tim, stop!” he said, twisting his hand away as Tim’s own hand closed around Jon’s wrist. “We were doing a scene.”