Teaser Teaser, 2
So . . .
The first was a one shot but people wanted more. Thirsty, dirty people. My kind of people.
NSFW, PWP Beetlejuice x reader (f).
tagging @perdrixforelle @drmccoy-ruinedmylife but everyone enjoy!
~
“Well, since you promised me that today I get to have you all to myself …”
“Mmm-hmm. I did promise that, didn’t I?”
“That means I get to decide what we’re doing. Right?”
A tiny bit of worry crept into his voice. “Yeah …”
“Well then …”
You took Beetlejuice by the hand and led him to the bedroom. You watched a look of dawning surprise alight his face as he took in everything you’d laid out for him. A collar. Leather wrist cuffs. A new bottle of lube. A spreader bar. A series of straps and buckles that would attach to each thigh, go behind his neck, and keep his legs up.
“You going to be a good boy for me today, Beej?”
As if his throat was dry and without taking his eyes from the equipment on the bed, he swallowed and gave a half nod.
You took his chin and turned his head to look at you. “Because if you’re a good boy, I’ll tease you and tell you how sweet you are and let you taste me as you come. If you’re a bad boy, though, it’s going to be a long day. You’ll get teased, of course, but you may not get to touch me at all.”
It was easy to see the war of indecision on his face. Good boys were treated well and got to have their mouths on your pussy. Bad boys might be spanked and treated roughly, and an orgasm wasn’t guarenteed; and if rules weren’t followed and he came without permission, it would be worse the next time. There were appeals to both options.
Beetlejuice swallowed again. “I … I’ll be good,” he told you.
You smiled and kissed him quickly on the mouth. “That’s a good lovebug. Clothes off. Let’s get you trussed up. Wrists cuffed to the headboard. I want your knees up for me, so I have access to every part of you. I’m going to make you feel so good, Beej.”
“I know you will,” he whined, and in a blink, his suit was gone and he was scrambling onto the bed.
His arousal was evident as you strapped him in: not just a throbbing, leaking cock, but the trail of hair on his lower abdomen was hot pink too, like the roots of the hair on his head. He licked his lips as you eased him into position, and when he was spread before you, vulnerable and open, you couldn’t help but smile.
You loved that he loved this so much.
“Let’s begin, shall we?” you said rhetorically, as you settled between his raised legs and squeezed lube into your hand.
Beetlejuice whined wordlessly in his eagerness, and moaned out loud when you started.
⁂
An hour? Ninety minutes? Later, at least, you gave him a break. It was for you too, although you were loathe to tell him that. Just having complete control to do whatever you wanted to him, knowing that at any moment he could rid himself of the restraints and ravage you, was heady power. You’d edged him with hands and mouth and tits. He’d sucked and drooled over your fingers to provide some lubricant for his cock. With his legs in the air, you’d rimmed him, then with real lube fingered him. A cock ring would have been a nice addition to the ensemble, to make it easier to drag the session out. Hindsight, you know. And for next time. Your own throat was raw from moaning along with him.
At first, to show off, Beetlejuice managed to change the leather collar you’d put around his neck. It wasn’t for anything but show, to match his wrist cuffs. You’d bought it without any adornment, but at one point rhinestones appeared at the hollow of his throat that spelled out “sex toy.” Then “good boy.” Followed by “Yes Please!” Then “SLUT” and “all holes open.” The words cycled back over themselves until he lost control over something as silly as all that, and since then the collar only read, “OWNED.”
Everything you’d done left you sweaty. If you’d really thought ahead you’d have put bottles of water in the room for yourself. Telling him to stay still as you headed to the bathroom, you left Beetlejuice trussed with his arms still above his head, his knees still up in the air with his ankles locked in the spreader bar--you didn’t insist he keep his legs up; he didn’t relax them on his own--and a jeweled plug in his ass. He whined for you to hurry back. You threw a smile over your shoulder and an exaggerated swing to your hips for him. His whine shifted to begging.
You took your time taking a long drink of water and wiping a damp washcloth over your face and the back of your neck. The begging continued from the bedroom. When it stopped, you returned, suspicious. A quiet Beetlejuice meant a puckish Beetlejuice.
The specter was still prone on your bed. All his restraints were in place, although he had finally let his legs drop as much as they could to the mattress.
Quietly, you watched from just outside the door frame. Beetlejuice had dug his toes into the mattress; he used the small amount of leverage to bounce his hips as best he could in his bindings. Whether he was doing it to make his cock slap against his lower belly for some facsimile of friction or if it was to wiggle the plug in his ass for some stimulation, you didn’t know. Maybe both. Whatever it was, each drop of his hips made an explosive little moan burst from his lips.
“Having fun without me?” you asked, stepping back into the room.
He immediately stopped, caught like a deer in headlights. “Baby, I wasn’t, I mean I was just waiting for you to get back, and, and--”
“And you couldn’t help yourself?” you interrupted. “Because every single nerve ending had almost been overloaded and you didn’t want it to stop?”
Sheepishly he agreed. “Something like that, baby.”
“Well then. It looks like we’re at a crossroads here.”
His amber eyes didn’t blink as he watched you..
You made it to the side of the bed, tapping your chin like you were thinking as you looked over him. “Do you think you’ve been good? Or do you think that, because all this--” You waved your free hand over him, to indicate what he was doing to himself, “--kind of breaks that streak?”
“I’m good, I’ve been good!” he whined. The leather collar under his chin proclaimed “good boy!” again. “Please don’t stop, please don’t stop!”
Sometimes the tease was worth it. This time it was not. You weren’t going to unbuckle him without any release; that wasn’t your style. Still, he hadn’t stayed still when you told him to, so he needed to be reminded of his place.
Climbing back up on the bed beside him, you hoisted his legs up again. His cock had softened a little without direct stimulation--another reason you should’ve used a cockring!--but it filled again as you stroked it gently between his thighs. You only had an inkling of an idea of what you wanted to do, and with him bound like he was your first thought of fucking him in the superior amazonian position, simply wouldn’t work.
Once he was hard again, you stood up on the mattress and looked down at him. Beetlejuice licked his lips, watching you. Doing logistics in your head, you figured out the best way to straddle him and then, carefully, you did. It took a moment to settle onto his stomach; the straps running around his neck to each thigh now bracketed you too.
Hiking yourself up on your knees, you reached between your legs to guide his cock into you.
It actually wasn’t too bad, this position. His legs kept you supported if you leaned back, which put pressure on his neck to lift his head. You rolled your pelvis to keep him as deep in your pussy as possible, but also gave the occasional downward drop so the plug in him could do its job too.
His moans were rivaled by your own, and it would be easy to just fuck him till you came--except he was going to get off first. Between holding his breath and everything tensing, you knew he was close. That had been your goal, of course, but not.quite.yet.
Just as his eyes fluttered closed and he bit his lower lip hard enough to leave marks, you pulled yourself off him. Those amber eyes shot open to meet yours again and he cried out. More a pitiful mewl, actually, so you leaned over to kiss away the teeth marks he’d given himself. Beetlejuice relaxed as you caught your breath, although he still whined deep in his throat.
You extracted yourself from atop him. His cock was shiny from your wet and dark; it throbbed with no heartbeat, just pure desire and arousal.
“I think you have been a good boy,” you announced, giving him a smile.
He could barely return it. Carefully you once again repositioned yourself, straddling his face this time. Before you lowered yourself, you said,
“You’ve done so well, Beej.”
His reply was muffled as you eased your pussy to his mouth. He did an admirable job of eating you out, licking, sucking, and groaning. His beard tickled your clit as he dipped his tongue into your cunt, then he returned to flicking it. Shuddering at his attention, you dropped yourself along his torso and sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth again.
The taste of the two of you combined made you groan between the little noises he wrung from you. Licking and then wrapping your hand around his cock, you stroked him with your lips locked around the head.
Cries from both of you ratcheted. Beetlejuice supported your weight easily and barely stopped moving his tongue and lips. He latched onto your clit and you jerked; his hands wrapped around your thighs to keep you right in place as an orgasm claimed you. You lifted your head off his cock as you cried out again, and he climaxed too, his come spurting across your chin and into your open mouth.
It took a moment to return to the room as you relaxed. You wiped your face on his lower belly to add to the pool of semen there. Beetlejuice had paused while he came, but had returned to lightly licking through your folds again, humming as he did so. It overstimulated you to the point of being annoying so carefully, you once again righted yourself and moved to his side.
Looking down on him from one elbow, you tapped his wrist.
“What’s with this?” you asked.
Caught, Beetlejuice hastily shoved his arms back above his head, like he’d had the wrist cuffs on the entire time. “Couldn’t help it, baby. You taste too good and I didn’t want you to get away..”
You laughed.
Unbuckling the restraints, he asked to keep the butt plug in. No, you told him. It was only for the bedroom.
“Then what about the collar?” he wheedled. “I can keep it under my shirt! Well, mostly . . .”
You shook your head and agreed, realizing it was his real goal anyway, not the plug. The rhinestones shifted between “good boy” and “owned” again. You wondered if they’d catch the light in the dining room, or if Delia would notice. The woman had a nose for crystals.
“Let’s go get cleaned up, Beej.”
Happy he could wear the collar, he readily agreed.
fin!
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