I rip the gag off my sculpture, then bring it around his head.
“Whoa,” he blurts as I wrap the thing behind his head. “You’re so damn kinky and twisted. Fuck, I’m so haaa—”
He doesn’t quite finish the word “hard” as the ball-gag slips past his lips, trapping the rest of his words within him and converting any sound he makes into vowels and moans.
“I’m not kinky,” I assure him with a gentle pat to his cheek, “and I’m definitely not twisted.”
He says something through the gag as drool gathers at the corners of his mouth, turning the ball slick. I love what I’ve reduced him to.
“I’m Nell.”
He blinks a few times, confused. It doesn’t take long for realization to dawn on his adorable, trapped little face.
“I’m the artist, camera boy.” I lean into his ear, giving the lobe one more tiny nibble before I add: “And you’re my new exhibit.”
When I pull away, I might say that I see a flicker of excitement in his eyes at those words of mine. Is all of this turning him on, the predicament I’ve put him in?
“Enjoy your grand opening.”
As I leave, I hear a moan or two that might or might not be him calling out my name, which he just learned. I hear another groan that might or might not be a show of his unbridled horniness on display for the whole school to see—or perhaps just his ultimate humiliation.
Either way, I’m sure the lesson’s the same.
BRANT
Well, this is a particularly unique shade of “totally fucked”.
And why the hell am I hard as a rock?
Like, seriously. I am so fucking hard right now that my cock—which is totally on display right now in these skintight, revealing briefs that Eric swore I should wear on my date tonight—feels like a goddamn swollen eggplant.
My heart hammers tirelessly in my chest, pumping more and more blood below my waist. It’s as if even my body is like: Hey, Brant! We’re excited! Exciting shit is happening! Let’s make you even harder!
That Nell chick is totally messing with me, right? She’s going to come right back and release me any second now.
I breathe in deeply, then breathe out. Already, this damn oversized ball-gag is making my jaw sore. I bet this is what Eric and Dmitri feel like every time they give head.
The thought makes me laugh.
My dry chuckles echo like whispers throughout the empty gallery, then reverberate back at me tauntingly.
I turn my head. “Nmml?” I push through the gag. “Nmmmmml?”
Nell. Not the name I was expecting from her. Who the hell names their kid Nell?
Fuck, she looked so hot tonight.
The sun is still up. So really, I’m not as visible as I think I am from the street. There’s reflections and shit on the glass outside. I’m pretty much protected until Nell decides the joke’s over with and she comes to free me. Maybe the whole gallery showing was just a lie? Maybe she’s just trying to scare me?
I give my left wrist a tug, only to find it completely and utterly secured in place. With a quick jerk of my right side, I make the same discovery. I’m not going anywhere.
The only thing that would make this even hotter would be if Nell would come back with a whip or some kinky shit. Not that I want to be actually whipped; the threat of one is sexy enough for me.
But a spanking …
Fuck, I’m getting even harder. Every time I think I’m at full mast, my cock betrays me and throbs even more. For a second, I’m seriously concerned that my cock might explode.
Mental note: Eric deserves severe payback for his evil suggestion to wear “sexy” underwear that’s a size too small.
I hear a click. When I look up, I see a pair of people walking along the sidewalk outside. Just as quickly, a pair of voices enter the gallery. Then I see more people approaching from the other side of the street, looking both ways before they cross the road. The front door—which I can’t see at my angle—opens to let in another crowd of some utterly indeterminate number.
An intercom clicks, and then music begins to play: some new age, hippie, synthetic beats crap.
Holy fucking shit. There is an actual gallery showing tonight.
I twist my neck around to try and see the front, then realize I can’t. Footsteps and voices join the music, echoing all around me tauntingly.
Every inch of my skin is cold and sensitive at once, my predicament growing more and more pressing by the second.
And I can’t will my boner away.
I’m still hard.
Nell did this to me to make a point, sure. I get it. Alright.
Suddenly, I chuckle through my ball-gag, thinking about her. She wants to teach me a lesson? This is the way she’s going to play my game? Two can play.