CW: relationship boundary change

I spent a rather sleepless night but I passed out eventually. I woke up frustrated. Like my body was trying to embrace emptiness. I also hated the dried-to-my-skin stickiness I had– like if I pressed my legs together they’d adhere to the knee.
I woke up when I heard him coming in. He helped me sit up and then took off the hood. The blindfold was still on, obviously.
“Water or coffee first?” he asked.
“Water,” I said.
He tapped a straw against my bottom lip and I sipped thirstily. I hadn’t meant to let him feed me but I couldn’t grasp anything in the mitts. He pulled the water away while I was in the middle of a sip.
“Say ‘thank you for letting me sleep in’,” he directed.
“Thank you for letting me sleep in,” I muttered. “I didn’t sleep very well last night because I was tortured.”
“You think that was torture?” he asked, sounding amused.
“Yes,” I said, pursing my lips to ask for a longer drink.
“If I give you your right hand back will you just use it for coffee and breakfast?” he asked.
“Mmph,” I said.
“Well, little girl?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “Two would be better.”
“Nope,” he said.
I sighed again.
He uncuffed me from the headboard and then took off the mitt from my right hand. I flexed it in the air, feeling oddly cool and naked. I’d been nude since having that first bath but having my hand bare made me feel more so.
“Feel lucky I gave you your right instead of your left,” he said.
I heard a clatter and shifted.
“Tray,” he said, clearly setting down a breakfast-in-bed style tray over my lap. Feeling with my fingers for the edge I found a plate, touching food across it and started eating. I was hungry.
“I need a bath,” I said.
“You can take a shower with me,” he said. “I just finished my workout.”
So he had been up for longer than me. At least long enough to workout and then make me poached eggs on toast. I felt sticky fruit on the plate and gobbled greedily. Good, juicy peaches. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d had such a good peach.
“Messy,” he admonished. Grabbing my right hand off the tray. I was waiting to feel him wiping my hands– he’d done so after previous meals. Instead I felt him sucking my fingers and it nearly killed me. It was too much– reminding me of sucking his fingers yesterday. Of any time he’d had his mouth on me. Now that he was closer I could smell his sweat and I wished it had been caused by fucking me, not jogging or lifting or whatever he’d wasted his morning with.
I wanted to wriggle in the bed but didn’t want to disrupt the tray still over my hips. He let me go but then licked at my chin.
That knocked a strange, coiled tension out of my guts and I almost cried. A not-quite-an-orgasm. A weird and disrupted little spasm.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Last day together and I don’t want to bring you home ruined.”
“I am ruined,” I complained.
He just laughed again.
He helped me out of bed, and I rested my palm on his forearm as he led us into the bathroom. I reached out to look for the wall or door but he hoisted me up in his arms again, lifting me over the lip of the tub, and then setting me back on my feet in the tub. He unstrapped the mitts and blindfold. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights in the bathroom which was good or I would have been blinded. He turned on the shower, humming. After I was warm and rinsed he shifted me behind him, gesturing to the bamboo stool behind us. I sat under the water, listening to him soaping himself up, still humming.
It was the first time I’d seen him entirely nude. I sat, paddling my feet in the water, musing on differences again. Neither better nor worse. I expected to be overwhelmed by his nudity. I wasn’t. Perhaps because of how nonchalant he was being.
Standing in front of me he shampooed my hair, then sat and soaped me up. I took it like a dumb animal. Mostly just glad to feel less filthy and more human than aroused. He seemingly had no intention to tease either.
He stepped out first, toweling off and then leading me out. I stood beside the counter where the blindfold and mitts were, waiting for him to put them back on. But he just gave me a little nothing of a spank to my backside, shooing me out of the bathroom. I was more surprised than disappointed, but disappointment was there as well.
Back in the guest room, the first time I’d really seen it at all he gestured toward the top of a desk. I blinked at it, shocked for a long moment. A stack of my clothes– a pair of slacks, a button-up I wore all the time, socks, underwear, bra. Like the sight of clothing itself was astounding.
“We weren’t really going to make you travel nude back and forth in the light of day,” he said with a joking tone.
“Oh,” I said numbly.
Walking over toward the desk as he sat on the disrupted guest bed. It was somehow odder to get dressed in front of him, rather than being naked. Like I was putting back on my everyday. Whatever my public performance was in front of him.
We walked out like regular people to his car in his driveway. Ordinary neighborhood. Sunlight still feeling a little whitely bright however. And headed back to my house.
J had the door open for us before we even finished parking. I felt corny and childish but couldn’t help but rush to him. He delighted by giving me a flurry of kisses in return. Pulling me back into my house, listening to P chuckling behind us.
Once the door was shut J gave me a playful little up-and-down.
“She appears to be in fine shape,” he said to P. “How did it go? Who won? You or her?”
“He did,” I grumbled, making them both laugh.
“She is pretty much returned to you as found,” P said. “Hopefully properly reset.”
I wriggled out of J’s arms and slid down to my knees. Bowing my head and resting my palms on the top of his left foot. That hint about being ‘reset’ made me assume the position.
“I missed you,” I said.
J tousled my hair.
“I missed you,” he said. “But did you miss me, or are you just asking to come?”
“I missed you,” I said. “And I’d also really like to come.”
“All right,” J sighed. “Let’s fucking finish her.”
Burying his hand in my hair he started dragging me back to the play room.
At some point over the weekend while I’d been gone he had brought in a table– nearly a dining room table. I was lifted onto it and strapped belly down, tits hanging off one edge. I wriggled, delighted to be restrained and back in here. I cried out when P stepped up, starting that soft and slow near-milking movement he’d do.
“Thank you, sir,” I panted.
“I know,” he said. “You’ve waited so long… And been so good… Go ahead and come on my hands.”
Having an orgasm like this, without any kind of clitoral stimulation, took longer. This time it took half the time because I’d been edged for days. Still, it felt like an empty kind of slap to my senses when I did come, just not quite good enough. Certainly not fully satisfied. More like a cold snap that had finally broken.
I felt J’s hand on my lower back and I lifted my hips as far as I could, with my ankles restrained. Letting my hip bone crash back against the wood, letting myself get bruised. J reached between my legs, stroking too soft.
“Hold your breath, darling,” he cautioned. “It’s going to come too fast.”
I inhaled and sealed my mouth shut, holding my breath like he said, disrupting the orgasm before it could happen. When my chest started heaving, and I was about to exhale, P sealed his palm on my chin, pinching my nose painfully shut.
Fighting, and trying to squeal without air I came on J’s fingers. It was good but still ruined by the hot, heavy feeling in my lungs. P let me go and I whooped in breath, crying. At that point, P sat in front of me, sliding up under the table so he could lean back on his hands behind himself and start sucking my nipples.
“Time to give you the good one,” J said.
The third one left me howling, finally relieved after the weekend. Both of them felt unhurried, almost to the point of disinterest. That gentle sucking P would do and that almost casual finger fucking J would do. Like getting me to come was just the matter of reeling in an easy catch.
They continued until I lost count. Panting and sobbing on the table. I heard them moving around. I was terrified that I’d be left there to writhe and cry as they sat in their usual armchairs. That they’d proceed to tease me. Instead, J crouched down next to me. Making me nostalgic for other times he’d gotten close to check in with me.
“How’s my baby?” he asked, very quietly. I wasn’t sure where P was but I could tell by the near-whisper J was using that this was just a private conversation between us.
“Very good. Tired. Thankful,” I said.
“Good girl,” he said. “I missed you. Give me your hands.”
I reached out until he grabbed my hands, pulling them forward. I felt his jeans. The belt buckle and zipper. I even knew by feel which they were. Gasping to feel how viciously hard he was. He probably ached.
“It only seemed fair, when I gave you away, to abide by similar rules,” he said quietly. “I haven’t come since I last did with you.”
“Oh,” I gasped, feeling him throbbing under my palm.
“We don’t rule change in the middle of things, ordinarily,” J continued, very low. “But if you’re okay with it, I’d like to have you right now. Not later. Don’t answer quickly just because you’re horny or tied up or missed me though.”
I could have laughed, because I was about to just cry “yes, take me, now!” But of course we had originally agreed we didn’t want to have sex, the two of us, in front of other people. P was a different matter though. It wasn’t like the times before, coworkers or the film club. Those times, the people there and myself had just been tools. I’d been a tool for their pleasure, and they’d be a tool of J’s to give me pleasure. P wasn’t that. It was definitely more than that, with the three of us. I didn’t feel like he’d be intruding on what J and I had with his presence.
“It’s not really a rule change,” I whispered back. “Things have changed, at least between the two of us. I’m comfortable with him. It’s different. I’d like to have both of you, honestly.”
J laughed low, standing back up.
“I am going to fuck my woman senseless,” J announced, presumably to wherever P currently was standing. “Not only are you welcome to stay but she’s voiced a desire to have us both.”
“Ah,” P said. And then to me, “You’re sure little girl?”
“Yes sir,” I said. “Please sir.”
I felt meanly triumphant when I heard a grunt from him– an exhalation of desire or frustration. Glad he was feeling some little taste of what I had gone through, glad to hear hunger from him as well.
J undid my restraints for which I was glad. Moving clumsily to get on my back, sighing to feel the strain in my body release.
I felt P’s hands on my chest and was expecting him to use my chest again the way he had before. Which I knew I’d enjoy again, whenever I had it. Instead he just massaged, eventually tapping his erection gently against my cheek. I hummed happily as I took him in my mouth, reaching out to hold onto his forearms.
Just as I got into a good rhythm, feeling near another nipple-orgasm, J thrust into me ferociously. He never usually did– in one harsh, plunging move like that. Partially because he was well-endowed– he’d learned to take it slow. But also because he liked to tease. Because it was always his finishing move after a long string of forced orgasms to finally give me that. So he’d always take his time.
I gasped over the invasion, seeming to suction P deeper on my inhale. Hearing him groan heavily turned me one further.
It felt good, even as J cracked me open, because I’d felt so empty over the weekend. And I missed him in particular. And though I knew he loved me and was attracted to me, I never felt want in him the way I felt it in myself. He never seemed desperate, but I always was. This time he felt desperate and longing.
I felt untethered, sliding back and forth on them. Once more just becoming two ends, some used thing. Able to lose myself in my body and pleasure. Unthinking and just reacting.
J paused or stopped several times. I was guessing he was pacing himself. I felt P throbbing on the back of my tongue, his come spilling down my throat just as J groaned, filling me up. Enough that I knew it had been true that he hadn’t come in a few days either. Hot enough that I cramped.
I lay, catching my breath. J came around the side of the table, leaning forward to kiss me. Surprising me that he did, slaying me with tenderness that he had.
“Stay right there, don’t move an inch,” J said. “We’ll be back.”
I didn’t know how quickly “we’ll be back” would be. I listened to them for a while. Heard water running, the fridge opening and closing. Chair legs squeaking across the floor. The gentle rise and fall of their conversation. I dozed off, listening to them talk.
When they returned, I ached. Waking up, chilled, sticky, my shoulder blades and hip bones hurting on the wood. Grabbing me by all four limbs they flipped me over. J wound my hair around his knuckles, pushing his erection against my lips. I opened immediately, if tiredly, for him. Instantly right back where I’d been– brainless. Gasping when I felt P’s broader but smoother hands on my inner thighs, pushing my legs open.
I lifted my hips, feeling the tug across my scalp as J held me close to him. As soon as the head of P’s cock touched me I stopped being sticky, instantly lubed up again. Feeling a gush and slide down my thigh, knowing part of it was J. Groaning loudly around J’s cock once P buried himself to the hilt in me.
This time it took them both longer. Having two more orgasms before either of them even sped up. I’d been holding onto J’s waist this time, to anchor myself in some way. He must have felt me go limp or get tired.
“You do this so well,” he said quietly. “You feel great wrapped around my cock. Whatever part of you is wrapped around me.”
“You do,” P agreed, his breath a little shorter. “You’re doing such a good job, little girl. Just a while longer now. Almost done.”
“That’s right,” J said. “So close. Just keep going.”
This orgasm wouldn’t break– rising and making my heart feel like it was going to explode. Finally cresting, clamping down on P so hard that he came immediately. I heard him sliding to his knees behind me. Burying his face between my legs, tongue flickering against my clit, forcing another orgasm from me. And another before J finally finished, almost ripping my hair from its roots when he did.
“Good job,” they cooed in unison.
Then I was finally allowed to rest.