Title: L'ecole de Grissom
By: Read 300300
Gil/Nick/Greg
PG
Summary: Nick is a good boy, and Greg, well, Greg isn't. ;-) BDSM, threesome, roleplay, general overall kink.
Warnings: BDSM, role-play"First, you remove as much of the vitreous humor as you can without damaging the retina," Gil lectured, deftly making an incision into the eye as he spoke and allowing the jelly-like substance to ooze out. "This means that you do not scrape it or bend it; in other words, don't let your scalpel near the back of the eyeball or grab it forcefully and shake it. You'll destroy the image if you do accidentally squeeze it."
"Because it'll distort the dimensions of the image, right?" Nick queried.
"Precisely. And we won't be able to see anything." Gil picked up a small linen square and, gently steadying the eyeball with one hand, almost lovingly coaxed out the rest of the gelled liquid without actually touching the retina. This was no small feat in a darkroom, but he managed it well enough. "Now, we deposit this on a tray and bathe it with an alum solution to bring out the image. This is just basically a negative impressed into the retina, the last image that she saw before she died."
"Yeah, I get that it's the last thing that she saw because the cells stopped receiving more information after the nerves stopped transmitting, but what if her eyes were closed when she died?" Nick leaned over Gil's shoulder, slightly to the right of the older man.
"The image won't be affected because the rods don't replace what's imprinted on the retina without new information being received from the cones."
"Ah...."
"Now, let that sit until it develops, pull the image and scan it, and then change the perspective to remove the spherical distortion," Gil moved away and removed his latex gloves, stopping to wash his hands.
"Okay, Grissom." Nick immediately took the older man's place, gazing intently at the small piece of human flesh. He was so used to following Grissom's orders that he barely even recognized the alacrity with which he did as he was commanded, both at work and in the bedroom.
He listened intently as Grissom opened the door and walked into the second room, a pitch-black cube that served only as way for people to maneuver in and out without exposing negatives to the harsh light that would destroy their contents.
Minutes passed by in silence as Nick tried to patiently concentrate solely on his work instead of his nervousness; he knew that he had no reason to be nervous about tonight, but he couldn't help feeling that way. Most of his feelings came from his fear that he would screw up and, in the process, kill Gil's fantasy. The fact that he had been the only one in their trio to not have fantasized about something similar to the scene that they would go through tonight threw him off as well.
He jumped slightly when he heard the door open, turning quickly in the darkness to see who had entered.
"Oh, hi, Greg," his gaze turned back towards the half of an eyeball that was being developed.
"So, what are you up to?" the younger man queried, coming around to stare intently into the dimly lit tray. "Oh, this must be-"
"Yeah. We think it was the husband, but this may be the only way to pin the sorry bastard." Nick said, carefully picking the eye up and depositing it in the next solution.
"Ah, cool," Greg sat down across from the Texan and began to look around the room at the different photographs that were hung on lines running from one end of the room to another.
"What are you here for?" Nick looked up, somewhat less nervous now that Greg was here. For some reason, he always felt happier when either of his two lovers was around.
Greg chuckled. "Shift's been over for ten minutes, but Gil said to give you about two hours before we should expect you to be home. He said that you were doing something that was time-sensitive once it began. So, naturally, I came by to see what it was."
The older man nodded before closing his eyes for a few seconds and then opening them again and looking back to the half-formed image; he didn't want to have looked at it for so long that his perception of the depth of development was distorted.
"Um, hey, what are you wearing tonight?" Greg asked, biting his lip a little bit.
"Whatever Gil lays out for me, like always."
Greg's eyes widened, "Nick, you're supposed to get something for tonight. Remember? He said he wanted to be surprised."
The Texan looked up in shock, completely forgetting what he was supposed to be doing for a second. "You better not be shitting me."
The younger man winced, "You mean I didn't tell you?"
"No!"
The lab tech bit his lip again. "I can go pick up an outfit for you at the same place where I got mine, if you want. He'd be really ticked if he found out I forgot to tell you."
He looked down at his watch, moving it under the source of the soft, red light so that he could see what time it was. "That would be great. There's no way that I could get something and make it home on time."
Greg leaned in conspiratorially, "If you really wanted to surprise him, I could get you an outfit that matches mine."
"What are you wearing?" Nick knew better than to just agree to something that Greg said. Well, after last time, anyway, but he really didn't want to think about the events that led up to him having Clash songs stuck in his head for nearly two weeks.
"A school girl uniform."
"A-a what?" He knew that his eyes must be bugging out, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"It's basically bobby socks, a blue plaid skirt, a long-sleeve white shirt with a fold-down collar, and a dark blue sweater over it." He coughed when he realized that Nick was still staring at him. "What can I say? I like the way that plaid looks, and the boys' uniform doesn't come with plaid. Besides, Grissom did say that he wanted to be surprised."
"Well, that will definitely surprise him," was all that Nick could think of to say. He didn't quite know why, but the idea of Greg wearing something like that was proving to be arousing; the Texan quickly put it off to the fact that Greg looked good in blue.
"Or I could just get you the guys' version," the younger man offered, knowing that Nick had always been uncomfortable stepping outside of the rigid gender roles that he had grown up with.
Nick nodded, turning back and examining the progress of the image. "That would be great, G. Thanks for saving my-"
"Tight, hot ass?" He supplied, over-exaggerating his ogling of said part of Nick's anatomy.
"Skin," Nick finished, rolling his eyes at the lab tech.
"What? I'm just saying-"
"I know perfectly well what you're saying. You need to get going if you're going to have time to run by the store and pick up something for dinner too."
"All right, Nick, see ya tonight. Oh, and by the way: stop worrying so much about tonight! You'll give yourself an ulcer!"
Stokes drove up to the house with twenty minutes to spare and just in time to help Greg unpack the groceries from the car. He jumped out of his own vehicle quickly and moved to assist the younger man, who had evidently tried to close a door while he had too many bags in hand and had subsequently gotten something stuck in the door. The lab tech nodded his thanks and handed some of the bags to the older man before they both walked in together.
"So what did you get for dinner tonight?" Nick asked casually, taking a peek into one of the bags as he set it down on the counter.
"I got some stuff to make either lasagna or... lasagna."
"Hmmm, maybe the lasagna, then?" Nick chuckled, immediately moving to pull out the cooking ware that they would need for the task while Greg put all of the groceries that they didn't need up.
"Yeah, lasagna. Definitely lasagna. Hey, Nick?"
"Yeah?" Nick asked, looking upwards from where he was squatting on the floor so that he could find the cheese grater in one of the bottom cabinets.
"I've got this," he gestured to the ingredients. "So can you go and-"
"Okay," he nodded as he stood, knowing that he should probably check in with Gil anyway and let the older man know that he had arrived. "I'll run his bath for you."
"Great, thanks! Oh, I set your outfit in the guest closet, but Gil doesn't want us to change into them until just after dinner." Greg winked, "He still hasn't seen mine."
Nick felt obliged to warn him, "Oh, boy. You realize that he'll either love it or hate it, right?"
"Yup, so I'm adding a little extra incentive for him to like it. By the way, could you help me with that in a little while?" He asked as he began to open a couple cans of tomato sauce.
"Sure, what did you want to do?" Nick stopped at the doorway and turned, trying to gauge Greg's expression.
"You'll see later."
Realizing that he would never get an answer out of his younger lover, he stomped on his curiosity and went to go prepare Gil's bath for him. On the way, he stopped in the living room and turned the TV on, automatically flipping it to his older lover's favorite channel.
Seconds later, he knocked on the door of the master bedroom when he found that it was locked.
"Yes?" called a voice from behind the door.
"Hey, it's Nick."
A second later Nick heard the knob rattle a little bit before the older man opened the door and stuck his head out. "What do you need?"
"Just checking in," Nick leaned in for a short kiss, mindful to pull back the instant that he felt Gil do so. "And I was going to run your-"
"I'm taking care of that tonight. Everything of yours and Greg's is in the guest bathroom, should you have need of it. Bedroom's off limits until after supper, barring it becoming a crime scene, and until dinner you have free time. Is that everything?"
Nick nodded, taking a moment to process the new information. "So you don't need anything?"
"No. Not right now, anyway. Thank you, though."
"Anytime." The younger man stayed where he was until the door shut and he heard the lock turn back into place.
Gil was typically rather easygoing before and after a scene, though that wasn't to say that he didn't still maintain his high standards. He demanded that his two younger lovers were respectful at all times, but he never really cared too much for being addressed as ‘sir' or ‘master' during everyday life, feeling that it would be too easy of a trap for Nick or Greg to become so used to it that they called him that at work. Occasionally, that changed, depending on how his two lovers had been behaving recently and on each of their stress levels; he knew that sometimes one or both of them needed the reminder that he would take care of them and that he was in charge. Gil also recognized how much work that the two put in for him and made certain that he thanked them on a regular basis, whether it was through words or through rewarding their good behavior with free time and the like.
The Texan walked back into the living room and turned the channel to ESPN, settling in to watch the World Poker Tournament. Nearly thirty minutes passed as he watched people make fools of themselves at the beginning tables and slowly, one by one, be knocked out of the competition before Greg walked in and sat down next to him.
"Are you busy?" The younger man looked a little nervous.
"No, not really. Just watching Howard Lederer beat the crap out of this newbie," Nick hit recall so that if Gil turned on the TV later, then he wouldn't have to find the remote to put it on his favorite channel. Then he hit the power key before turning to face Greg. "What did you need?"
Greg bit his lip. "I want to- to shave myself for Gil, but I need your help for the areas I can't reach. Wouldn't want to cut anything on accident, you know."
The older man leaned in conspiratorially while mentally squashing the ingrained reactions of shock, "So just how far do you want to go with this?"
"Pretty far. I mean, I know my legs at least, since I'm wearing a skirt... and I had thought about shaving around my dick."
"Okay, how long do we have?" Nick looked on while Greg consulted the timer on his watch.
"About an hour," came the reply. "So we should probably get started."
"Right." They both got up, Nick leading the way to the guest bedroom. "Did he tell you that the other one if off-limits?"
"Yeah, I wonder what he's doing in there," Greg said softly, quite aware that their house carried sound very well for the most part.
"No clue."
"Have you been in the guest room yet? He moved nearly everything in there," Greg asked before opening the door and walking in.
Nick stared at the room, marveling at how Gil had somehow managed to get their king size bed in there along with their dresser, TV stand, and four bookshelves on top of everything else that had originally been in the room. Withstanding the curiosity to check out what Greg had gotten for him as an outfit for that night, he followed the younger man into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind them.
He moved the help the younger man remove his shirt and, with a muttered "Let me take care of you," he stilled Greg's hands. He could feel the tension, the uncertainty, in Greg's muscles, and so he vowed to make this experience as special as he could for him. Nick inched a little bit closer after he pulled the dark black sweater off, slowly undoing the buttons of the long-sleeved, white shirt and sliding the fabric off of his young lover's chest, loving the slight rustling sound it made as it came neatly off. Turning, he folded it and set it on the towel rack before turning and opening each of the drawers until he found where Gil had put their disposable razors and shaving equipment along with, oddly enough, their toothbrushes.
He set three razors down on the counter as well as shaving cream and a rag that he had moistened under the faucet, and then he moved back to where Greg was to begin removing the rest of the younger man's clothes. He knelt and gently pulled off the younger man's shoes and socks, setting them off to the side; then, he slowly unbuttoned Greg's pants and pulled down the zipper, his body reminded of many other times that he had been in this position for other, pleasant reasons. Taking his time to gently caress Greg's already nearly smooth skin, he pulled the other man's black pants and blue boxers down and helped the other to step out of them.
He picked up the pants and began to fold them as well until he saw a small stick of something fall out. Reaching over, he picked it up; all he could do was to stare when he realized what it was.
Just to be certain, he looked up at the younger one, who was now blushing. "What is this, G?"
"Eyeliner. Cath showed me how to put it on last year for Halloween when I decided to dress as one of those glam rock stars from the seventies."
"Gonna wear it tonight?" He cocked his head thoughtfully, remembering how Greg had looked that one night with it on and deciding that he liked the way it had looked.
"Why not?"
"Awesome," Nick smiled before depositing it in one of the empty drawers so that it wouldn't get lost and then resumed folding the black slacks.
Reaching back behind him with assurance, he deftly grabbed one of the razors and the shaving cream; he looked up at Greg as he gently rubbed the blue-green gel onto his right leg, gauging the other's reaction to see if he was applying too much pressure.
The Texan chuckled when Greg leaned back against the wall, a relaxed expression on his face. After wiping his hands off on a dry rag, Nick picked up one of the razors at took the protector off; then, he moved in for the first long stripe of bare skin. Slowly, he drug it downwards, having begun high up on Greg's thigh, and didn't stop until he hit the ankle. Squinting a bit, he examined the now hairless area and decided that he was pleased with his work. He wiped off the razor and made another line parallel to the first and right next to it; he continued in this manner until he had finished both legs, using shorter strokes for the backsides of the legs, so as not to accidentally nick the area.
The Texan stood, admiring his handiwork and not being able to resist running a hand down one of the legs just to feel the smoothness of the skin.
"Beautiful, Greg," he whispered. "You're so beautiful."
Greg's eyes flew open. "No, I'm-"
Nick leaned forward and kissed him, effectively shutting the younger man up; once again, he couldn't help himself and had to give into just touching Greg's hairless legs. He could feel how Greg poured his concern over whether or not Gil would like his surprise into the kiss, and Nick did his best to assuage that fear, taking advantage of Greg's half-gasp and moving his tongue into a duel with the younger man's.
He pulled back for air when he realized that his body was beginning to react to the intimacy of the moment and turned his mind back to the task at hand, knowing that Gil would be very upset if he got off now.
"Do you still want me to shave your-"
"Yeah," Greg cut him off.
"Gil's gonna love it." Nick murmured before kneeling and picking up a fresh razor.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Nick deftly moved the ruler over the graphing paper, forming all of the triangles in the circle of functions with ease, only occasionally pausing to verify his calculations with the textbook. Tapping his eraser on his chin absentmindedly, he began murmuring as he tried to remember the next step needed for the seventh problem that Professor Grissom had assigned him.
"Point is cosine, sine of theta, so point of forty-five degrees is square root of two over two, square root of two over two again. Point of sixty is square root of three over two, one-half.... So tangent of sixty is sine over cosine, which is one-half over square root of three over two...." Smirking, he bent down again and began writing once more, attempting to ignore the pleading looks that Greg sent in his direction.
He knew that if he even dared to glance over, he would become entranced by the sweet way the youngest man's eyes were enhanced by the slight smudges of darkness and the half-inch of bare skin that he could see from where the skirt's edge hit and the knee-high socks began. He wondered when Gil would notice that little detail; to be sure, the older man's mouth had dropped open in shock and lust the second that he realized Greg was wearing a skirt for him as well as the eyeliner.
"Silence!" Grissom's voice came from across the room where he was sitting at his desk, clad in a dark blue dress shirt and tight black slacks that matched his black loafers.
Nick's pants were feeling extremely tight as well, and he wondered whether or not Greg had done that on purpose. Putting his thoughts aside, he worked quietly for the next couple of minutes, attempting to finish the problems as quickly as possible. Not that he thought that would be overly difficult, of course. He had gone through two levels of calculus in college, but he had to at least pretend difficulty for the scene to be as authentic as possible for Gil.
Nick couldn't suppress a grin when he thought of just how kinky both of his lovers could get, but his momentary smile failed when his mind inevitably returned to the sobering thought that this night would most definitely test everyone's limits. Certainly, he was nervous of having his lover play-act at being an authority figure to him while he was to act as though he were much younger; the fact that Gil was playing his teacher made the situation even more frightening, but he knew that this was something that he needed to work through.
Even though Gil had already indicated that he would probably be focusing more on Greg for the punishment aspect of the scene, Nick could not help but worry that he might flash-back to Allison. He swallowed thickly, trying not to think about her; he knew that it would only make him more anxious.
He shook himself out of his reverie when he felt something tap his arm; turning, he found a note nudged near his paper. Quizzically, he unfolded it, wondering what Greg deemed worthy enough to make him pull away from the game.
As he looked down at the paper, he smirked again and raised his eyebrows, realizing that Greg wanted only to add another dimension to the school effect.
Can I copy?
Nick nodded, glancing hurriedly towards where Grissom was sitting and ‘grading' papers. When it seemed as though the coast were clear, he passed the first page underneath the table to his lover. He slyly watched as Greg placed it on top of one of the textbook pages so that it looked as though he were merely checking the tables and graphs given before the problems.
Game on... Nick wrote back, bending immediately back to his set of problems.
"Sanders, what is this?" Grissom reached over the younger man's shoulder and grabbed the piece of paper that he had been attempting to conceal under the desk ever since Gil had stood.
"Uh," Greg licked his lips, "it's a- well, it's Nick's, sir."
"I can see that. Now, do you want to tell me what you're doing with Nick's paper?"
The Texan spoke up, "I gave it to him, Professor Grissom!"
Both students watched as his eyebrows rose before he squinted slightly. "Well, Nick, your honesty will grant you some leniency later, but I had already surmised as much."
"Leniency? But what have I done wrong?" Quickly, as an afterthought, he added a ‘sir' to go along with his question; they hadn't been there that long, and he didn't see how he'd even had a chance to make a mistake yet.
"Wrong? You're out of uniform, Stokes. School dress code maintains that you must wear a tie, and I see you've forgotten yours today. Or, rather, I think Mr. Sanders has a little something to say about that."
Greg winced slightly, knowing that he had been caught but wanting to prolong the fun and see just how much trouble he could get into. As an actual student, he'd always gotten away with a lot of things because the teachers liked his work, but he had never actually crossed that imaginary line that would have landed him in serious trouble, like, -say- more than three days of detention at a time.
"Maybe he left it in his locker," he suggested weakly, but then he amended his statement when he noticed Gil's pointed stare, that one look that sent nervous, tingly shivers down his spine every time that he saw it. "Or, uh, well... Nick, I took your tie."
"Why?" Nick blurted out, once again faced with the fact that Greg could be a bit of an enigma at times; whereas Nick's greatest desire was to just please Gil, Greg could always be counted on to spice things up.
"Because secretly, underneath the make-up and the skirt, I'm actually a man who likes wearing ties," he dead-panned.
"Greg! Make one more comment like that and I'm sending you to the principal along with a note about your cheating. I'm sure that your parents will be thrilled to hear about your latest infractions!"
"But, Professor, I've told you before! If I could pass this class on my own, I wouldn't have to cheat off Nick!" Greg's stark brown eyes, enhanced as they were by the eyeliner, pleaded for Grissom to let him off for the offense, even as he knew that there was no way in hell the older man would pass up an opportunity to punish him like this.
Gil placed a rough hand on Greg's shoulder, leaning forward until his lips brushed the youngest man's ear, his voice a low, harsh growl as he spoke. "And I've told you before, that you could pass- if you had the right incentive and were motivated enough."
"What about extra-credit, sir? I'll do anything," his voice took on a slightly husky tone, the meaning behind his words more than evident.
"Oh, I think we could arrange for a little bit of that, could we not, Mr. Sanders?" Something slightly scary flashed through Gil's eyes at the prospect. "Yes, I think a little extra-credit would do nicely."
Suddenly, his hand that had been on Greg's shoulder swiftly made its way to the youngest man's wrist and tugged, using his foot neatly to make Greg stumble to his knees as he tried to stand.
Without thinking, Greg yelped, "Ow, damn it, Gil!"
Nick instinctively moved forward to help the youngest man regain his balance before he fell over completely, grabbing his other arm. He let go when Grissom's reproachful gaze turned towards him.
"That's three offenses today, Sanders! My, my, you're just racking them up, aren't you?" Grissom looked half exasperated. "And I know that you can do better than that. I've seen you do better."
"Sorry, Professor Grissom. It won't happen again." A truly contrite expression was on his face; he hated feeling as though he had let his master down with his mistakes.
"I'll make certain that it doesn't," the eldest said, pointing towards the teacher's desk. "Go! Assume the position."
Greg swallowed, knowing that he was definitely about to get it good as he leaned forward over the dark wood, spreading his legs and folding his arms behind his back, allowing his cheek to rest against desk.
He was able to see Gil as he crossed behind the desk and opened the first two drawers, drawing a paddle, a ruler, and a couple of ties from them before moving out of his line of vision.
Grissom walked over to Nick and used some of the ties to secure the CSI to the chair, knowing that Nick understood that this was as much a reproach for him leaving his seat without permission as it was for him being out of uniform. The older man grabbed the back of the chair and twisted it slightly so that Nick would have no option but to watch as Greg took his punishment. Grabbing the paddle, he made his way back to the desk, landing a few quick, hard swats along the edge of his buttocks before speaking.
"Do you know what you're being punished for, Greg?"
"Yes, sir!" the youngest man answered quickly.
"Tell me, then," he commanded, the order coinciding with the next harsh smack against the man's butt.
Greg took a deep breath, wishing that he was allowed to support himself against the desk with his hands so that he could at least get some leverage against the forceful hits. "I intentionally tried to get Nick in trouble, I was disrespectful with my professor, and I was trying to cheat so that I could pass my math class. Oh, and I sexually propositioned said professor."
"Good. And why did you see fit to disobey me?" Wanting to vary the effect and keep Greg on his toes, Grissom skipped the anticipated stroke of the paddle.
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do. And it's not because you're stupid- you aren't, and we all know that. You wanted to disobey; tell me why!" He switched hands and landed three blows very quickly.
Greg thought quickly, for a brief moment wondering where Nick was and why he wasn't in some way participating before actually thinking about the question. "It-it seemed like a good idea at the time, you know? Take a little pressure off of Nicky and let him relax. I knew that as soon as he stopped thinking about what we were going to do and got involved in the physical side, then he'd be okay."
"Oh, so it wasn't just you wanting attention. It was you thinking that I didn't have the presence of mind to care for my slave. Is that it, Greg? Do you think I'm incompetent?" His voice was low, slightly angry, a little scary, and a hell of a lot sexy.
"No, Professor!" Greg tensed, waiting for the next blow of the paddle, somewhat shocked when something much smaller hit him, the localized sting sending jolts throughout his body. He tried to move away from the nearly continuous set of blows, the sharp, raw feeling of his nerves prompting him to do anything, everything he could to evade the feeling even as he arched into it. From behind him, he heard a low, throaty moan; his mind pegged the timbre of Nick's voice, and he now knew that whatever Nick was currently doing, he was still watching.
From his position, slammed up between the desk and Grissom, without the use of his arms, he was unable to move, unable to evade, unable to do anything except lie there and take it, panting as he tried to time his breathing with the rhythmic rise and fall of Grissom's arm. He inhaled sharply and jumped when something slammed down right near his face; opening his eyes and ignoring the not-quite tears that were blurring his vision, he saw that it was what looked to be a plastic ruler.
His body jerked again when he felt a cold hand slide under his skirt and then pull it up, a sudden nervous feeling coming over him all of a sudden as he waited for Gil's reaction to his little surprise.
"Stop moving!"
Greg stilled, biting down on his tongue to try and take his mind off of the things that Professor Grissom was doing to him.
Gil's tone had only the barest hint of surprise in it, but his hands betrayed his true feelings of wonder as they began to caress the smooth flesh, traveling ever upward until they reached his hairless balls, where they stayed for a few seconds. The older man absentmindedly fondled the highly sensitive area, seeming unaware of how it was affecting his lover. "Very beautiful, my pet. You do present quite a lovely picture like this. Don't you think so, Nick?"
Nicky swallowed, glad that Gil's back was turned so that he couldn't see just how lovely he found the sight to be. This truly was the perfect torture for him, being able to see Gil control his younger lover that way and yet not be able to touch or to move. It was killing him already, and he didn't think that he'd been tied up for even fifteen minutes yet. He could already feel the heady rush of submission overwhelming everything else in his mind, the world taking on a slightly fuzzy edge to it.
"Yes, sir."
"Hmmm. What do you think I should do with him, Nick?" He asked, his tone suggesting nothing more than a mere hypothetical situation.
"Whatever pleases you the most, sir."
"Good answer. I might just have to reward you for that." Gil's hands once more took hold of Greg's skirt and lifted it upwards before tucking the edge into the waistline so that more of his skin was exposed.
Picking up the ruler again, he turned back to his task once more, letting blow after blow reign down on the sensitive skin, enveloping himself in the youngest man's harsh pants and the faint tinge that the flesh beneath his gaze was taking on. He could see the strain in Sanders's muscles as he tried not to move; Gil wanted to test that resolve, to see if he could coax true and pure submission from the man as he had been able to numerous times before. Bringing his hand between the body and the side of the desk, he palmed the hardness that he found.
Greg shuddered as Gil caressed his hard, leaking member through the dark blue plaid skirt that he was wearing, the soft rustle of fabric a striking counterpoint to the loud, violent sounds of plastic hitting flesh. The light globes were just barely visible below the shortened fabric, and from what Gil could see, Greg's ass had reddened considerably in the short time that he'd been taking his punishment.
"What's my name?" Gil finally voiced his point of contention, having satisfied himself that Greg knew what would come to him were he to repeat these particular mistakes.
"Professor Grissom," he managed to stutter out through clenched teeth.
"And how will you address me?" Grissom punctuated his question with another blow from the ruler, loving the sound it made as it flew through the air and hit its mark.
"As ‘sir' or ‘Professor.'" Greg sighed in relief when he heard his master back away, not having the courage to look away from the desk he was leaning over but knowing that punishment was typically finished when Gil began to pay attention to Nick. And so, he was unprepared for what he happened next.
Grissom gently ran a hand through Greg's hair, stopping near the back of his head and tugging until the younger man was looking him in the eye.
"Why don't you see if you can redeem yourself by taking care of Nicky? It is your fault he's this hot and bothered, after all." Grissom pulled him backwards a bit until he was clear of the desk before turning him towards Nick's chair and giving him a gentle shove.
Grissom walked around Nick's chair after Greg kneeled in place and began using his teeth to open the Texan's zipper. "You see that, Nicky? He wants to suck you so deep."
Grissom whispered, leaning in as he spoke, "He's so beautiful like that, isn't he? With those marks all over him?" His voice lowered a bit more. "You want that too, don't you? You want your ass to look like his, all red and just begging for someone to take it..."
Nick gazed downwards, letting Gils words wash over him as he stared into Greg's eyes, those beautiful brown eyes that were begging for permission to go ahead and suck Nick's hardened cock.
"Go on, Greg. Nicky wants you so badly. Can't you see it? He's so ready for you..."
Greg nodded, moving swiftly forward and undoing Nick's pants the rest of the way before beginning to tongue him through the fabric of his boxers. Nick arched, pulling against the ties that bound him until he felt his master's hands come to rest on his shoulders, that sultry voice coming to whisper sweet words into his ear once more.
"He's such a pretty little slut, isn't he? Always ready to play when we want him... Tell him, Nick, for me. You're allowed to speak, so tell him how much you want him..."
Nick's face contorted in pleasure at the feel of that hot tongue applying pressure to the head of his cock, and he jerked forward when he felt Grissom slide a hand underneath his shirt and begin to tweak a nipple. His breath became pants and moans when Greg finally used his teeth to pull back the final layer of obstructive clothing, his beautiful, kiss-swollen lips just barely grazing the heated flesh.
"Go on, Nick," Gil's voice was oddly both calm and lust-roughened at the same time. "Tell him what he makes you feel. Tell him how good he is at that. And he is good, isn't he? The way that he takes you in so deep that you think you'll die if he stops... And you don't want him to stop, do you?"
"I...no, Professor...I..." Nick's voice was slightly broken by then, eyes fixed on Greg, lips trembling. He wanted to say the right thing, to be good, but all he managed to do was whisper in a voice that was barely audible "Do it, Greg. I need you so badly, please do it."
"Tell him what to do, Nick. How's he ever going to know what you like if you don't tell him? If you don't keep talking, then I'll make him stop, and that would be such a waste of his pretty little mouth, wouldn't it?" Gil turned his own mouth to the side of Nick's neck, biting down roughly, using his tongue and teeth to try and coax more words out of him.
Nick arched as much as he could against his bonds, his hips seeking Greg's mouth; he struggled, trying to find a way to finally get relief for his aching cock, nearly out of his mind with lust that had built up from first watching Gil dominate the youngest of their trio and then from having Greg so near and yet unable to touch him. He looked back down to where Greg knelt in front of him, willing to take him in the way that he wanted to be as soon as he said the word.
"Please, Greg, suck me... I need you to suck me," he whispered hoarsely, his legs wantonly trying to spread even more so that Greg could have all the room the he needed. Beginning to moan less than a second after Greg's tongue flicked out and began to circle the head, he tried to thrust, to do whatever he could to make that perfect, pink tongue continue to do all sorts of wicked things to him.
"Take it, Greg! Suck it!" Nick cried the second that Greg moved to pull away in deference to Gil's threat. "Come on, baby, come on. Take it for me; suck me deep like you know I want you to."
Greg obliged, giving the length of the Texan's cock a long swipe as a reward before sensuously taking in the head and applying just enough suction to draw a haggard moan from the older man's lips. "That's it; just like that..."
Gil looked on, the ruler in his hands no longer held as firmly while he watched his two lovers performing according to his wishes. He wrapped his arms around Nick's shoulders and followed his gaze to where Greg's head was bobbing up and down on Nick's heated flesh. He was riveted, his gaze fixated on the many inches of flesh as they disappeared into the warm, wet haven of Greg's mouth.
He stayed there, breathing in the heady scent of Nick's arousal and watching Greg work his magic; he hadn't been lying when he said that the lab tech gave amazing head. Maybe too good, for he could already tell that Nick was far too close to coming, so close that his moans and cried words had become mere whispers.
Knowing that the best way to stop a chain reaction was to impede the first link, he unwrapped his arms from his shuddering boy and walked over to where Greg was kneeling. Deciding that he was going to be buried deep in Greg's tight ass before the night was over, he lifted the man's skirt so that he could see the bright red marks he had left earlier with the ruler.
At the first touch of a hand, Greg gasped, faltering in the rhythm as the cool skin stroked his still stinging ass.
"Go on, Greg," Gil commanded, reaching forward and roughly grabbing his smooth, hairless balls; he rolled the sacs through his fingers, delighting in the perfect skin he felt. "Tell you what- since you're being so good to Nick and playing nicely, I'm going to be good to you."
He brought his hand upwards to stroke Greg's shaft lightly, feeling the way that the muscles tensed and rippled against his chest, which was now pressed to Greg's back. Continuing to apply various amounts of pressure to the sensitive flesh, he also kept his hand on Greg's ass, alternating between light caresses and hard, stinging slaps that shook the lab tech's body and caused him to moan, which in turn forced another cry out of Nick.
Simultaneously, he swirled the first drops of fluid leaking from Greg's cock around the head of it and landed the most forceful slap yet; only afterwards did he realize how much of a turn-on it was to feel that hard, supple body beneath him jerk in a combination of pleasure and pain and to hear his moans, muffled as they were by the large cock in his mouth.
"Focus on Nick, Greg," Gil reprimanded, squeezing one of the heated, ruler-marked globes in his hand before reaching up and bringing two digits to Nick's mouth. "Open your eyes, Nick; I don't want to see them closed again until I'm done with you!"
Nick's eyes flew open, and only then did Gil see how blackened they were with lust.
"Suck it, Nick," He commanded. "Just like you want Greg to suck you."
"Yes, Professor Grissom."
The eldest held out his two fingers, a slight shiver running down his spine when Nick took them in and began laving them with his tongue.
"Good, Nick, that's really good," he murmured his praise as the pink tongue snaked out, the flat of it pushing upwards between his fingers as he sucked them in rhythmically. Pulling his attention from the thought of what his cock would feel like in that delicious mouth, he turned his gaze to Nick's eyes, noting with satisfaction that they were open and focusing on the lovely man that was sucking him down.
He pulled his fingers out with a pop before moving his other hand to hold Greg's skirt up; leaning downwards, he pressed a kiss to each cheek before he positioned both of his fingers in the crack of Greg's ass, timing their inward thrust to match the youngest one's bobbing head so that at once he was filled from both ends. He knew this was the way that the lab tech liked it, a little bit rough and with enough pain to enhance the pleasure.
Setting a fast pace with both of his hands, one hand thrusting into Greg's tight chamber, the other wrapped around his leaking cock, he leaned over and whispered, "I'm not going to stop, but you're not allowed to come until I say so. That won't be until my cock is buried so far into your ass that you won't be able to sit for a week, so it's no use begging for it."
Barely ten seconds passed before Gil noticed the change in Nick's breathing and could see the deep red flush that signaled his release come over his face.
"Please, Professor! I'm so close," Nick cried out, his hips moving forward as he tried to have his cock as far into Greg's mouth as he could; the tension was nearly consuming him. "Professor Grissom, please let me- oh!"
"Go on, baby, let him milk you just like that. He's gonna swallow everything you give him, won't you, Greg? Come on, Nicky, come for me!"
"God, so beautiful... fuuuuck..." Nick managed to choke out through the nearly overwhelming sensations as he came. "Greg! Greg, please, god... please don't stop!"
Gil watched in fascination as the Texan shuddered a few more times before finally stilling and giving a wordless cry of release.
When he came back to his senses, he was slumped in the chair with both of his lovers working to untie the knots on his bonds; both of them whispered soothing words as he tried to move onto his knees to properly thank his master.
"That's good, Nicky." Gil murmured when Nick finally knelt, prostrating himself before the older man. "You're such a wonderful pet. As a reward, I'm going to let you help me take care of Greg."
The Texan nodded, smiling shyly and watching as Greg reassumed his place near the desk, this time with his arms supporting him.
"Go on," Grissom gave Nick a little shove in the youngest man's direction. "Have fun; just don't make him come yet."
The CSI crawled over to the desk, letting his eyes roam over the darkened flesh before him.
Cautiously, he reached out a hand to caress a thigh, biting his lip when Greg jerked and knowing that his cold hand must have been a shock.
"Greg! I didn't tell you that you could move!"
Nick decided to be a little bit naughty himself, running his tongue gently over the uppermost mark, laving the bright red streak and coaxing a moan out of his younger lover, who clenched his hands tighter around the edge of the desk in an attempt to stay still as he had been commanded
When he couldn't stay still, the ruler returned for another swat to the side of his thigh, making him gasp and push back against the mouth on his ass. A hand curled tightly through his spiked hair, jerking his head backwards until he was looking Gil straight in the eyes.
"You can make as much noise as you want, but if I see you move again, then you can be assured that your ass won't be the only thing that hurts by the time this is over," Gil intoned harshly, landing another quick smack to the thigh as a reminder.
Greg hastily choked out a ‘Yes, sir!' before returning swiftly to his previous position once Gil's hand had pulled away. He tried to prepare himself for the next onslaught of Nick's tongue, but was surprised when he felt the graze of teeth pulling lightly against one of the many marks he bore. Thankfully, he managed to stay still.
But his control was nearly pushed to the limit when Nick's agile tongue snaked into his cleft and stabbed at his puckered opening. He cried out, clenching his hands into fists in an effort to hold still lest Grissom make good on his threat.
Sweat beaded his brow, and his entire body shook with a combination lust, pain, fear, and love. Only these two men could bring him to this level of feeling.
He bit down hard on his lip when he felt Nick move away, knowing what was coming and not disappointed when Gil began quickly working two slick fingers into his tight channel. He whimpered when the third was added, knowing that it was probably a terrible thing that he needed to have something much bigger filling him and needed it now.
Once again, Gil fulfilled his unspoken wish when he removed his fingers and positioned his cock, thrusting in firmly. Greg moaned loudly when he felt a set of nails dig into the side of his hip, the flesh still sensitive from the beating that he had endured; the pleasure-pain mix threatened to overwhelm him completely, but he held off, knowing that there was no way that his ass could take the beating that it would get for him coming without permission.
He felt as though his entire body was alive and working against him, especially when a seeking hand found his cock. The hard flesh jerked as it was touched and caressed by agile fingers.
Grissom began to move, thrusting inwards and pulling out in time to the count in his head; he knew that he would probably leave bruises on Greg's thighs, but he didn't care as long as Greg didn't safeword. He changed his angle slightly, a triumphant feeling surging through him when Greg's reaction told him that he had found that small bundle of nerves that hurdled the youngest one very quickly towards completion every time.
He reveled in the feel of the tight heat surrounding his cock, in the knowledge that Greg was subservient to none other but he, in the joy of feeling the heated lines he had left on the flesh he was kneading. Thrusting in faster, he began to stimulate Greg as much as he could, wanting to feel the other man's muscles contracting around him as he came.
"Feel that, Greg? Feel what you do to me when you're like this, all needy and hot? You would do anything for me, wouldn't you?" His tone betrayed the triumphant feeling that he had.
A needy whimper was his only reply.
"Then, come on, do it, Greg. I give you permission to come."
That was Greg's cue to allow himself to topple over the edge and fall into the pleasure that he craved and needed so desperately. He came, feeling Grissom coat his insides with heated, sticky fluid as he did so; lowering himself onto the table when his master collapsed on top of him, he let himself finally begin to cry from his punishment earlier.
He felt a pair of hands lightly caress him as another set of strong arms wrapped themselves around him. Greg pressed his head onto Gil's shoulder as his tears silently fell down his face; the extremes of sensation had finally taken their toll on him. The lab tech was filled with a deep sense of love, of belonging, of pure and simple rightness as he was held and caressed and talked back into normal headspace.
Finally, he pulled away, knowing that he must look like an idiot with his eyeliner smudged and come all over the front of his skirt.
He turned to Nick and cracked a smile. "Not as bad as you thought, was it?"
"Nope, definitely not, G. Although it was torture watching you like that; you have no idea how hot ya'll are together."
"Mmm, maybe one day we'll have to get a mirror installed on the ceiling so that I can see."
"Good idea," Gil murmured, sleep ready to overtake him. Before he could let it, though, he stood, motioning for Nick and Greg to follow him into the shower where he could clean them off and take care of their marks. The last thought he had before he bent to his new task was that he was going to have to see what he could do about curbing Greg's misbehavior in the long run.
Maybe a detention was in order.
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