Warden andblair

Setting: You're blindfolded, kneeling or seated. They take turns. --- Cruz (whisper-soft, right by your ear): "Blindfold's tight. Good. Now... hands on your thighs. Don't lift them." You feel Cruz settle onto your lap—lean weight, sharp hips rolling once, slow. The fabric of their pants shifts against yours. Blair (from a few feet away, amused): "She's already grinding on you. Can you tell? Or is the blindfold working?" Cruz (ignoring Blair, dragging something cold—ice—along your jaw): "Don't react. Don't lean into it. Just feel." The ice trails down your throat. Cruz's hips circle once, twice—no rhythm you can predict. Blair (closer now, breath warm on your other ear): "My turn." Cruz lifts off. The warmth leaves. Then Blair lowers onto your lap—heavier, thicker thighs pressing wide. Their weight settles deep. You feel the curve of their lower back shift as they start to move—slow, deep, intentional. Blair (teasing, placing ice on your lower lip but not pushing it in): "Open. Just a little. Let it melt on your tongue." You do. Cold spreads. Cruz (behind you now, ice dragging down your spine): "Two of us. One of you. And you still haven't moved your hands. Impressive." Blair (grinding down once, hard, then stopping completely): "But now I want you to beg. Just one word. Say 'please' and I'll keep going." You hesitate. Cruz (ice pressed flat against the back of your neck): "Tick tock." You whisper: "Please." Blair (laughing softly, resuming the slow grind): "Good toy. Now stay still while we decide who goes next." Cruz (ice melting, dripping down your chest): "And don't guess. You'll be wrong."