Bad Girls Do It Well: Part 2

“If you want to fuck us,” I say, grabbing his wrist lightly, “you have to follow some rules.”


Rick’s hooded eyes light up. “Mmm, kinky, I like it,” he grunts.


“First rule,” I continue, grabbing his other wrist. I stand, moving before Rick can process it, and pin his wrists above him. I lean down toward him and smile. “No hands.”


Rick makes a stuttered, moaning sound and agrees to my first rule. I release his wrists, and he keeps them above his head. I throw a leg over his knees and straddle him, keeping an eye on his hands, and dip my own fingers down the front of his jeans. He groans, his hands curling into fists, but he restrains himself. I smile and lean close to his ear.


“If you break a rule, then you get punished,” I whisper.


“Mmm,” Rick moans. “I like the sound of that.”


“We thought you might,” Morrigan says, running her hand along his chest from where she is seated beside him.


I writhe in Rick’s lap, feeling him growing stiff beneath me, as Morrigan reaches for the edge of his shirt and pulls it off him in a fluid motion. Rick seems to be struggling to keep his hands above his head. When I lean in close to him but deny him my lips, he makes a frustrated sound.


“What’re the other rules?” he demands. He seems to be growing bored of our teasing, and that’s exactly what I want.


“Rule number two is that you have to ask us permission to come,” I answer.


Again, Rick shows interest in this. I don’t let him think about it too long, climbing off his lap and pulling his shoes and jeans off entirely. His cock presses hard against his boxer briefs, already damp with precum. Morrigan plasters herself to Rick’s side, running her fingers over his jaw and neck playfully and drawing his attention as I slowly begin to pull down his boxers.


I have to admit that Rick is a beautiful specimen. All defined muscles and dark body hair and tanned flesh. Watching his cock spring free from his boxers makes quite the sight. His member is massive, thick, and uncut. I look him over, wishing desperately that he didn’t have such an abhorrent personality. If only I could wipe him clean, give him better manners and turn him into an actual man. Not the boyish, rude extended adolescent that he currently is. Watching him here, twisting under Morrigan’s ministrations, I find him deliciously beautiful, the sort of thing I want to stare at for hours. But the entire effect is ruined when Rick catches me staring and just nods, self-satisfied.


Yeah,” he says smugly, glancing at his own cock. I grind my teeth. I almost want to snap at him, put him in his place, but I stick with my plan.


His boxers gone, I spread Rick’s legs wide and lean in toward his massive organ. Rick takes the bait. Lost in sensation, he’s forgetting the rules, forgetting that Morrigan and I speak words at all. His hands immediately drop down and reach for my head. The moment I feel him trying to grasp the back of my scalp, I recoil and get to my feet.


“Did you already forget a rule?” I snap.


Rick looks up at me, surprised. He laughs a bit, confused as Morrigan also climbs to her feet. “Sorr-ee,” he sneers.


I go into the bags immediately, pulling out a pair of leather cuffs. I again straddle Rick as Morrigan grabs his wrists. He struggles at first, laughs awkwardly, and then goes along with our operations.


“I told you, if you break a rule, you get punished,” I remind him.


“You girls are weird,” Rick laughs. But there’s something he’s hiding, something he’s trying to mask with humor; I can hear it in his voice. It might be fear, or it might be arousal.


Morrigan and I work together to secure his wrists to the frame of the futon. When we step back, he’s naked and trapped, locked into place with a small padlock that came with the cuffs. His eyes dart back and forth between us nervously, and I can see his mask slipping, his usual pretentious, cocky visage crumbling to reveal something else underneath, something raw and reluctant. He’s still trying to laugh, still making jokes, and Morrigan and I exchange a glance.


“Rule number three, no talking,” Morrigan directs, and I grin at the venom in her voice.


“These games are cute, but I just want my dick sucked,” Rick retorts.


Morrigan moves quickly, grabbing a ball gag from the bags and shoving it deep into Rick’s mouth. He struggles against her, but the cuffs hold, and Morrigan is quick and dexterous. A moment later, Rick is sputtering and gagging against the red plastic ball forced so tightly into his mouth that he’s already starting to drool. I expect Rick to struggle, to rage against us, but he doesn’t. Instead, he simply goes still and turns to look up at us. His eyes are beautiful, so dark that they almost look black; they’re wide and frightened as he looks back and forth between Morrigan and me. He takes long, slow breaths through his nose and waits for our next move.


“Do you remember the second rule, Rick?” I ask. I can see myself reflected in Rick’s eyes as a beautiful crimson flush runs up his neck and across his chest. He nods self-consciously, glancing down at his dick.


“Do you want to come?” Morrigan adds. Rick attempts to swallow as drool runs down his chin. He nods faster.


I drop down onto the futon beside Rick, and Morrigan sits on his other side. His head bobs back and forth as he tries to watch us both. His massive cock is rock hard between his legs, lying against his navel, and I reach for it. When I take it in my hand, Rick makes a low guttural sound around the gag. Slowly, I begin to stroke him, pulling back his foreskin to run my palm over the sensitive head. He jerks on the futon and moans. Morrigan grasps the base of his cock, and we begin to collaborate, working him over thoroughly. It’s not long before I notice Rick’s balls begin to tighten. The head of his cock is red and engorged, and I wait for him to ask permission, but he says nothing.


“Are you about to come?” I purr playfully.


Rick grunts and nods.


Morrigan and I both release him immediately. Rick makes a broken, screeching sound around the plastic ball down his throat and rages against his restraints like an animal.


“You weren’t going to ask permission, were you?” I surmise.


Rick freezes, looking over at me, at my stern expression, and balks. “Eh furgurt,” he attempts around the gag.


“Bullshit,” Morrigan scoffs. She gets up and goes to the shopping bags. I have no idea what she intends to get, but I’m pleasantly surprised when she returns with a smooth wooden switch. When Rick sees it, he begins to whimper. When I see it, I feel myself get wet.


I climb to my feet, rounding on Rick like a hungry animal. I put a hand on his shoulder and shove him against the futon with my entire body weight before digging my knee into the soft spot above his groin where his leg meets his hip and pressing hard. He spasms and fights and doesn’t see it coming when Morrigan brings her switch down against his still-erect cock.


Rick screams around the ball gag and yanks so hard on the restraints that the cheap novelty lock breaks. I’m quick though, and five years of water polo have left me no stranger to grappling, so I’m on him immediately. I grab his arms and wrench them behind him, using leverage to take him to the ground face first. Morrigan gets his legs, and we manhandle him until he’s in the center of the room.


“If you ever want to come, you’ll quit struggling,” I say into Rick’s ear. He goes still instantly.


“He already broke another rule,” Morrigan says to me, straddling his legs. “No using your fucking hands!Morrigan doesn’t pause. She brandishes her switch and brings it down again on Rick’s cock. He howls like a banshee around the gag, but doesn’t struggle. Instead, he slumps back against me in defeat.


“Get out the climbing gear,” I tell Morrigan, a devilish idea occurring to me. Morrigan catches my drift and is on her feet immediately, dashing across the room to the small closet in the corner.


I reach around Rick and begin to stroke his softening cock again. He hisses in pain as my palm rubs roughly against the welts raised by Morrigan’s switch, but soon he’s whimpering and turning his face into my shoulder. Putty in my fucking hands as I stroke him back to full girth. He’s beautiful like this—submissive and breathy and pliant. I want to keep him here forever.


Morrigan is back soon, the heavy climbing bags dropping onto the floor beside Rick. He eyes them nervously, but I shush him and continue to stroke his rigid member.


“Are you flexible, Rick?” I ask in his ear.


His body goes rigid against me, but I’m already releasing him and reaching into the nearest climbing bag. I find a carabiner and use it to clip the cuffs together behind Rick’s back. I shimmy out from under him, flip him onto his front before he can take a breath, and pull out the ropes from the next bag. I tie his ankles together and connect them to his wrists so that he’s hogtied. I then flip him painfully onto his back once more, leaving him splayed open. His back is arched harshly, his arms trapped under him, his chest and abdomen exposed, causing his heart rate to accelerate. He squirms, trying to find a more comfortable position, but Morrigan and I don’t allow him that. I straddle his chest, and Morrigan straddles his waist, pressing him down hard against the floor and causing him to cry out.


I crawl up Rick’s body and kick out my leg. My skirt is short, and I wear a lacey red thong underneath it. I hold myself over Rick’s face, leaving him staring up at my pussy and my soaked red panties.


“This is what you want, isn’t it Rick?” I roll my hips for emphasis. Rick stares up at me and makes assenting sounds around his gag. I snap my legs shut, and instead bring my face down close to Rick’s. “What have you done to earn my pussy, Rick? What have you done to earn the pleasure of Morrigan’s pussy? Hmm? Fucking jack shit, that’s what.” Saliva runs down Rick’s face as he makes small, pleading sounds. “You think groping a woman in the club earns you her pussy? You’re a fucking disgrace, a child. You don’t even deserve to be in the same room as us right now. You know that’s true, don’t you.”


Rick’s lips move ineffectually around the gag, trying to say something, but I slap him hard across the cheek.


“You can’t even remember three goddam rules!” I snap. “No fucking talking. I don’t give a shit about a goddam thing that you have to say.”


“I think we need to show him how the women he takes home end up feeling,” Morrigan suggest.


I turn and look at her. She reaches for Rick’s cock and begins to stroke it, and I see the glimmer in her eye that gives away her plan. I smile wickedly, turning myself around but still pinning Rick down.


“How many of our friends has Rick picked up?” I ask Morrigan.


“Well there’s Eliza,” she replies. “Sarah. Cassie. Alison. Courtney and Francine. Oh, and Jackie.”


“Seven,” I muse. Beneath us, Rick is already squirming and moaning. “Seven sub-par nights. Seven of our friends’ orgasms ruined.”


Morrigan grins at me. I wonder if Rick understands what we mean. I don’t look at him, but he’s still making small, needy sounds from underneath me.


“I think Rick owes us some penance,” Morrigan suggests. “Isn’t that right, Rick?” she calls a little more loudly. I climb off Rick and look down at him as he pants and struggles endlessly to find a small measure of the comfort that we’ve denied him. He stares up at us with wide eyes. There’s sweat on his brow, ruining his perfectly coifed hair. I can smell the cheap cologne he uses on his heated skin. When he looks at Morrigan again, she smiles down at him sweetly. “Seven ruined orgasms.”


Rick finally understands. He makes a small squeak that sounds like no and begins to shake his head slowly. Morrigan just grins and nods, reaching for Rick’s cock. He looks up at me, pleading, all control lost, and I relish it, breathe in the victory of it. Helpless, pleading, at our mercy.


Morrigan is lavishing Rick’s cock with attention, and he tries desperately to speak around the gag, shaking his head frantically as he stares down at her. I want to hear him beg, so I crouch down and remove the gag roughly. Rick coughs, sputters, and then takes up a mantra of “No, no, please, please don’t.


His begging doesn’t last for long though, because in a few strokes, he’s at the edge again. Face red and teeth bared, he looks at Morrigan with wide, desperate eyes and begs her to let him come. She feigns thinking about it for a moment and then releases him entirely. Cognizant of the thin walls, I press a hand over Rick’s mouth as he begins to scream in frustration at his first of seven ruined orgasms.


Number One,” Morrigan announces in a singsong voice.


“You bitches, you fucking bitches,” Rick curses weakly when I release him, eyes rolling in his head. “You can’t fucking do this to me.”


“Oh, but we can,” Morrigan sighs. “And, we are. And . . .” She snatches up her switch and smacks it hard onto Rick’s still-rigid cock. Rick howls out, and I’m not quick enough to stop it. “No talking,” Morrigan reminds him sweetly. “Bridget, why don’t you take the next one?”


Morrigan climbs off Rick’s lap, and I move down his body. Rick squirms, hissing halfheartedly at me under his breath, raging to maintain his last shred of dignity. “You’re a fucking bitch. You’d better fucking let me go.”


I laugh, low and slow.


“Oh Rick, you’re never going to be allowed to come if you use language like that.” Rick produces another sputtering sound, red in the face, and I laugh again. “You have six more ruined orgasm to go, darling. You run around, thinking you can do as you please, but now you’re at my mercy. And that’s where you’ll remain until I decide I’m done with you. And I won’t be done with you until you’ve learned some manners.”


Rick’s mouth snaps shut.


“Let’s get started on the second one, shall we?”


Rick’s strategy this time seems to be to try to ignore me altogether. He stares at the ceiling soundlessly as I cover his cock in lubricant and begin to stroke him. For a while, it seems to be working. I pull back his foreskin, press hard on the engorged head, even play with his balls. He grows gradually redder in the face as he holds his breath and tries to resist me. But eventually, he can’t hold out any longer; he lets out a shaky breath and stares hard at me.


“Please, Bridget,” he says in an unsteady voice. “Please just let me c-come, please.”


“That’s only Number Two,” I remind him as I pull my hands away.


Rick groans, dropping his head back onto the tiled floor dejectedly. Morrigan doesn’t give him a break though, grabbing him and wringing from him his third ruined orgasm, his oversensitized cock on the edge again in less than forty-five seconds.


For the fourth ruined orgasm, Morrigan uses her mouth, and Rick begins to separate from reality entirely. His eyes roll back in his head, and his body shivers. When Morrigan pulls her lips away with a loud pop, chasing away his fourth orgasm, his simply exhales loudly and seems to deflate.


We don’t let up though. By now, his cock is painfully rigid, head fully exposed, bright red and heavy against his abdomen. A line of precum is smeared against the excess of lubricant that runs down his body and pools with the sweat on his hips. Ruining his fifth orgasm is as easy as using a few fingers on his sensitive head.


What are you doing to me?” Rick moans, eyes rolling. “W-What are you doing to me?


One by one, we take vengeance for our friends, until Rick is nothing but a gasping, slurring mess on the floor. Skin ruddy, drenched in sweat and lube, he stares up at the ceiling and whispers under his breath as we count his sixth ruined orgasm.


“Please, Bridget,” he mutters, unfocused eyes settling unevenly on me. “P-please can I come?”


I nearly acquiesce. He’s hard to resist like this, all softly spoken words and pliant flesh. I watch him, full of an emotion I’m unfamiliar with. I feel real; I feel raw; I feel in the moment; I feel in control. It’s both dizzying and grounding. I breathe it in. It’s a sensation I will come to know well in the following years. But for now, it’s new and fresh and so fucking good. I want to own this boy; I want to lock him away and make him mine. I want to take his beautiful body and brand it with my name, and then I want to take his mind and brand it with my will. It’s that sensation that makes me cock my head and whisper, “No.”


I relish the way his face breaks, the way tears begin to fall freely from his eyes as his body goes limp. Finally, he surrenders. As an orgasm escapes his grasp for a seventh time, every pretense and façade scatters into dust, and what is left is a boy, laid raw at my feet, empty and gone away. He shows no reaction when I stand up. His muscles are lax, body open, cock still bulging at his naval. Rick closes his eyes and lets out a breath.


Rick’s truly gone away, and for a moment it scares me. He doesn’t respond when I speak to him, barely moves when I nudge him. I try to rouse him, but he just mumbles at me, cracking open dangerously unfocused eyes that fail to find my face looming over him. He closes them again and lets his head fall against the floor.


“M’m jus’ sleepy,” Rick mutters. “Can I tekka nap? So tired.”


I roll him over, loose-limbed and pliant, and undo his bonds. With a soft voice, I coax him onto his hands and knees and guide him to the futon. I lay a blanket on the cold floor at the foot of the metal frame.


“Lie down, Rick,” I say carefully, glancing up at Morrigan, who watches with a worried expression. Rick does as I ask, lying on the blanket and asking once more if he can go to sleep. “Yeah, go to sleep,” I whisper, using a bit of rope to secure Rick’s wrist cuff to the metal frame.


When I stand, Morrigan is staring at me with wide eyes. We exchange a glance, one I struggle to comprehend. Neither of us speaks. I don’t think we breathe, either. We simply step in close to each other, fingers dancing over each other’s skin, an indescribable energy between us. I lean in toward her, my eyes on her soft pink lips and the freckles that run over the bridge of her nose. I want to kiss her.


A sharp knock on the door has us both stumbling backward. I blink at Morrigan uncertainly, and she shrugs, just as clueless as I. There’s another knock. I look back at Rick, naked and asleep on my floor, cock still hard between his legs. Morrigan acts fast, grabbing the comforter off her bed and dropping it over his sleeping form. I scoop up the toys scattered on the floor and click off the lights in the room, leaving only the television on. Throwing a robe around my shoulders, I open the door.


Outside is my RA, Amy. She has a strained expression on her face because she despises confrontation. Her beady eyes glance over my shoulder, into the darkness of my small dorm room.


“Everything okay in here?” she asks, still looking around behind me. “Someone said they heard screaming.”


“Screaming?” I ask, feigning shock. I turn around and look into my room. Morrigan sits on the futon, Rick at her feet. “Rick!” I call. He doesn’t move. “Rick!” I shout a bit louder. Morrigan nudges him with her toe. Bleary-eyed, Rick sits upright. He looks around, confused, before noticing Amy and me in the doorway. “Were you screaming, Rick?” I ask.


Rick blushes, ducking his gaze.


“Yes,” he whispers, unconsciously grabbing at the comforter that’s around him and tugging it tighter.


“Tell my RA why you were screaming,” I demand in a crisp tone. I can tell that I’m making Amy uncomfortable, which was my goal. She’s shifting her weight nervously and making little gasping noises. Rick just stares at me with wide, helpless eyes. “Come on now, Rick, answer her.”


“B-because I wanted to come?” he says uncertainly, keeping his gaze on the floor.


“Ah, there you go, Amy.” I shrug, turning back around to smile brightly at the frizzy-haired girl. “He was screaming because he wanted to come. I’ll make sure to keep the gag in next time.”


“Okay,” Amy squeaks, face burning red as she turns on her heel and scurries away down the hall. I wave after her and shut the door.


Rick has dropped back down to the floor, pulling the covers over his head in shame. It’s not long before I assume he’s asleep again. Morrigan and I get up, change out of our clothes, and head down the hall to shower. When we return, we find Rick snoring under the comforter. Morrigan and I share grins and glances, but exhaustion is quickly creeping into our bones.


Outside, the sun breaks over the horizon.


Wrapped around each other on the futon, Morrigan and I feel ourselves slipping into sleep. Just as I am about to fall away entirely, I hear a small, breathy moan from the floor. I crack open my eyes to find Rick sitting upright, looking at me with squinted eyes. His face is twisted in what looks like pain, and when he notices that I’m looking at him, he moans again, louder this time, and glance down at his waist. I follow his eyes and find his cock, red and hard and leaking. Rick emits a soft sound that resembles a sob, and I sit upright.


“What’s wrong?” I ask quietly.


Rick sniffs and glances up at me, his fists curled against the floor.


“It hurts,” he answers in a small voice that absolutely breaks my heart. I gasp quietly and get onto the floor immediately.


“My poor boy,” I breathe, reaching for Rick. He goes to me immediately, laying his head against my chest and making a stuttered, wet sob. “Let me help you.”


When I reach for Rick’s cock, his eyes widen. No! Please!” he gasps, curling in on himself. “Please don’t tease me anymore,” he begs.


“Pull your hands away, Rick,” I say in a stern voice. Rick whimpers, but he does as I ask, giving me access to his throbbing member. I wrap my fingers around it, finding it almost unbelievably rigid. As soon as my fingers brush the sensitive flesh, Rick cries out and spasms against me, his cock bobbing and leaking a long line of precum.


I shush Rick gently and begin to stroke him, taking my time, listening to the desperate, breathy noises he makes. He leans against me, damp hair smelling like cedar and sweat, rolling his hips up into my hand and falling apart utterly in my lap. I use my other arm to hold him against me, elbow braced on his chest and my long fingers wrapped around his straining neck. It doesn’t take long, no more than five languishing thrusts before Rick is panting and whimpering against my jaw.


P-please, Bridget, please let me come. Oh, God, please! Bridget, I have to come. You have to let me come, please. I tried to follow your rules. I’ll try harder if you p-please just let me come. H-haven’t I been good?”


“You’ve been a good boy,” I whisper, my lips against his forehead. “And I think that if you’re going to keep being my good boy, then you’ve earned an orgasm.”


“I-I promise,” Rick gasps, body writhing. “I promise to be good!


“Then you can come.”


With a choked scream, Rick finally begins to orgasm. His whole body stretches like a violin string, tight and ready to be plucked. I continue to stroke him, pace quickening. His body shakes, and Rick begins to spurt, coating his chest in long pearly strings. It’s more cum than I’ve ever seen, and Rick’s body seems to be turning itself inside out for it. Rick’s jaw stretches open, pulled into a silent scream. The only sound he utters is a high-pitched groan, his eyes bulging as his heavy balls finally drain, as he finally finds relief, and he is finally granted the orgasm he’s chased for hours.


With a final gasp, Rick slumps back against me, body shivering, chest coated in his own release, and whispers in a shuddering voice, Thank you, Bridget. Fuck, th-thank you so much.”


“Did that feel good, baby?” I ask, letting the boy curl in my lap sleepily.


“S-so good,” he whispers. “What did you do to me? H-how?”


Rick is shivering violently, so I grab the comforter and graciously drape it around him. “I know you better than you know yourself, darling,” I answer, pushing a few damp strands out of Rick’s eyes. “And your orgasms are only good when they belong to me.”


Rick stares up at me, and I can see myself in his eyes. There’s something else there as well, something full of awe. He nods slowly but says nothing, his flushed lips parted. I lean over him, kissing him carefully on the forehead. There’s confusion, maybe even fear, in his expression, but he finally takes a breath and speaks. “M-may I go to sleep?”


“Of course, darling,” I smile, extracting myself from beneath him. He lies carefully on the floor, still staring up at me. “Sweet dreams.”


Outside, the morning sun peeks between the tall buildings of the city. I get to exhausted feet, climbing carefully into my lofted bed. On the futon, Morrigan is asleep, curled around a pillow, a small smile on her face. Below her, Rick still watches me with awe-filled eyes. I sigh, falling back into my bed. Never have I been more fatigued or satisfied.


And never have my dreams been sweeter.

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