Beautiful Disaster Page 52


"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 pussy 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 clit, 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 clit, 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 fuck me. I have no interest in becoming just another one of your conquests. No, you're going to fuck 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.

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