Tim stopped. “..Oh.” Tim wasn’t sure if he meant that in the BDSM sense or the porn sense, but either way, he wished the ground would open up and swallow him. Where was one of those buried alive statements when you needed it?
“Did… did you think I was… Oh god, Jon, I’m so so sorry,” Martin whimpered, sinking down into Jon’s chair.
“Martin,” Jon said, gently beginning to run his fingers through Martin’s hair, “It’s alright, you were brilliant, I’m alright, see? Martin, it’s alright,”
Tim was already getting a headache. “Okay, so… what kind of scene?” he asked. “Forgive me for asking, but… I never exactly took either of you for the kinky type.”
“Well, basically, I called Martin into my room for a performance review, and he’d screw me over my desk to show me who the real boss was here. We were here at a stupidly late time because we assumed no one would be here,” Jon said, letting go of Martin. Martin seemed, for his part, a little less anxious as Jon explained.
“Alright,” Tim said, holding up his hands. “Look, I really wasn’t trying to be an arse here, I just… I knew you’re ace, Jon, and I wanted to make sure-“
Jon sighed for a good five seconds. “Yes, I’m asexual, no I do not experience sexual attraction, yes, I am capable of experiencing arousal,” he started rattling off. “No, this is not how I actually view myself or Martin, no, Martin would never say this to me in real life, yes, I had these kinks long before I met Martin, yes, I find some sense of fulfillment from my boyfriend treating me as a wet hole to fuck and pretending to discipline me in front of the entire institute. Now, if you would allow me to leave with a single shred of my dignity intact, I would appreciate it if you stopped blocking the door.”
“Wait.” Martin was still in his chair, even though Jon was making a valiant effort to pull him towards the door. “Boyfriend?”
Jon paused. “Martin, we’ve been having sex for two months.”
“No, I’m aware, I just. I’m glad you see me that way,” said Martin, smiling genuinely at Jon, and god, why had Tim ever even been worried?
“I mean, we don’t have to if you wouldn’t want to,” Jon said a bit too quickly, and Martin just beamed at Jon like he was the most beautiful thing in the universe.
“You want to be my boyfriend,” he said, crushing Jon in a hug.
“Yes, I love you very much, Martin, but let’s get home so we can finish the scene,” Jon said, squeezing Martin’s hand.
“Well…” Tim said hesitantly. “I feel really bad about what happened. So… I could help out with the scene, if that’s what you two would want.”
“…Help?” Jon said, but he sounded more curious than offended. “Help how?”
“What’s your safeword?” Tim asked, and Martin and Jon shared a look before Jon nodded.
“Dewey decimal,” Martin said.
Tim smiled to himself, but said nothing. “Sorry to interrupt, Martin,” he said, taking hold of Jon’s wrists as he pulled Jon’s belt out of his pants, reaching up to bind his wrists over his head.
“Now look what you did,” Martin said, sliding a hand inside Jon’s underwear again. “You’re so desperate for someone to screw that you’ve gone and given us away.”
“But I-“ Jon started to say something, but Tim quickly shushed him.
“No more buts. I’m just going to wait here,” he said, leaning against the desk, “and make sure you’re getting fucked properly.”
“Oh, you like that, don’t you,” Martin said, running his finger down Jon’s cheek in a mockery of kindness. “You just want everyone to see you for the slut you really are.”
Jon whines at that, eyes flicking between Tim and Martin. “Martin..” he tries again.
“Well, no sense in waiting,” Martin said, tugging down Jon’s underwear and rubbing his thumb over Jon’s clit. Jon pressed into Martin’s touch.
Tim we uncertain what to do for a moment, until Martin added “Pull his hair, he loves that,” and Tim ran his fingers through Jon’s hair before he closed his hand into a fist, and Jon keened.
Tim started to press the heel of his palm against himself, trying not to interrupt the scene, until he heard “Be good now, don’t come,” and he jerked his hand away before realizing Martin was talking to Jon.
Jon was a mess, now, wrists secured above his head, hair falling loose around his face, shirt half-unbuttoned and three of Martin’s fingers stuffed inside of him.
Tim hears, “Martin, Martin, don’t let me,” and sees Martin pull his hand away even as Jon makes a small, wrecked noise from the loss.
“See, he can be trained,” Martin said, rubbing small circles into Jon’s back with the hand that wasn’t currently coated in Jon’s slick. “If you fuck him often enough, he might even stop dripping everywhere.”
Martin takes himself out of his boxers, resting his cock against the base of Jon’s stomach but not putting it in.
“Does he deserve it yet?” Tim wonders out loud, idly toying with one of Jon’s nipples. “I mean, he was giving you kind of an awful hard time there, Martin.”
Jon shoots a glare at Tim, then turns back to Martin.
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Fill: Jon/Martin/Tim, CNC, Humiliation Kink 2/3
Date: 2021-01-07 09:22 pm (UTC)“Did… did you think I was… Oh god, Jon, I’m so so sorry,” Martin whimpered, sinking down into Jon’s chair.
“Martin,” Jon said, gently beginning to run his fingers through Martin’s hair, “It’s alright, you were brilliant, I’m alright, see? Martin, it’s alright,”
Tim was already getting a headache. “Okay, so… what kind of scene?” he asked. “Forgive me for asking, but… I never exactly took either of you for the kinky type.”
“Well, basically, I called Martin into my room for a performance review, and he’d screw me over my desk to show me who the real boss was here. We were here at a stupidly late time because we assumed no one would be here,” Jon said, letting go of Martin. Martin seemed, for his part, a little less anxious as Jon explained.
“Alright,” Tim said, holding up his hands. “Look, I really wasn’t trying to be an arse here, I just… I knew you’re ace, Jon, and I wanted to make sure-“
Jon sighed for a good five seconds. “Yes, I’m asexual, no I do not experience sexual attraction, yes, I am capable of experiencing arousal,” he started rattling off. “No, this is not how I actually view myself or Martin, no, Martin would never say this to me in real life, yes, I had these kinks long before I met Martin, yes, I find some sense of fulfillment from my boyfriend treating me as a wet hole to fuck and pretending to discipline me in front of the entire institute. Now, if you would allow me to leave with a single shred of my dignity intact, I would appreciate it if you stopped blocking the door.”
“Wait.” Martin was still in his chair, even though Jon was making a valiant effort to pull him towards the door. “Boyfriend?”
Jon paused. “Martin, we’ve been having sex for two months.”
“No, I’m aware, I just. I’m glad you see me that way,” said Martin, smiling genuinely at Jon, and god, why had Tim ever even been worried?
“I mean, we don’t have to if you wouldn’t want to,” Jon said a bit too quickly, and Martin just beamed at Jon like he was the most beautiful thing in the universe.
“You want to be my boyfriend,” he said, crushing Jon in a hug.
“Yes, I love you very much, Martin, but let’s get home so we can finish the scene,” Jon said, squeezing Martin’s hand.
“Well…” Tim said hesitantly. “I feel really bad about what happened. So… I could help out with the scene, if that’s what you two would want.”
“…Help?” Jon said, but he sounded more curious than offended. “Help how?”
“What’s your safeword?” Tim asked, and Martin and Jon shared a look before Jon nodded.
“Dewey decimal,” Martin said.
Tim smiled to himself, but said nothing. “Sorry to interrupt, Martin,” he said, taking hold of Jon’s wrists as he pulled Jon’s belt out of his pants, reaching up to bind his wrists over his head.
“Now look what you did,” Martin said, sliding a hand inside Jon’s underwear again. “You’re so desperate for someone to screw that you’ve gone and given us away.”
“But I-“ Jon started to say something, but Tim quickly shushed him.
“No more buts. I’m just going to wait here,” he said, leaning against the desk, “and make sure you’re getting fucked properly.”
“Oh, you like that, don’t you,” Martin said, running his finger down Jon’s cheek in a mockery of kindness. “You just want everyone to see you for the slut you really are.”
Jon whines at that, eyes flicking between Tim and Martin. “Martin..” he tries again.
“Well, no sense in waiting,” Martin said, tugging down Jon’s underwear and rubbing his thumb over Jon’s clit. Jon pressed into Martin’s touch.
Tim we uncertain what to do for a moment, until Martin added “Pull his hair, he loves that,” and Tim ran his fingers through Jon’s hair before he closed his hand into a fist, and Jon keened.
Tim started to press the heel of his palm against himself, trying not to interrupt the scene, until he heard “Be good now, don’t come,” and he jerked his hand away before realizing Martin was talking to Jon.
Jon was a mess, now, wrists secured above his head, hair falling loose around his face, shirt half-unbuttoned and three of Martin’s fingers stuffed inside of him.
Tim hears, “Martin, Martin, don’t let me,” and sees Martin pull his hand away even as Jon makes a small, wrecked noise from the loss.
“See, he can be trained,” Martin said, rubbing small circles into Jon’s back with the hand that wasn’t currently coated in Jon’s slick. “If you fuck him often enough, he might even stop dripping everywhere.”
Martin takes himself out of his boxers, resting his cock against the base of Jon’s stomach but not putting it in.
“Does he deserve it yet?” Tim wonders out loud, idly toying with one of Jon’s nipples. “I mean, he was giving you kind of an awful hard time there, Martin.”
Jon shoots a glare at Tim, then turns back to Martin.