My Friend Looked at My Boyfriend and I Punished Her on Her Knees

I met Mariana in the first practical assignment at college. I had just turned eighteen and she was a couple of years older, and the first thing that caught my attention was that strange mix of beauty and meekness she had. Tall, skin so white it was almost milky, a perfect nose, and a mouth that seemed to ask permission for everything. She was, I don’t know how else to explain it, too easy to look at.

For months we were nothing but hallway politeness, until one Friday she invited me to spend a day at the country house her grandmother had on the outskirts. She told me in a low voice, almost apologetically, and clarified that I was the only one in the study group she was inviting. The invitation included my boyfriend. I accepted before I even thought about it.

The day arrived and I was more anxious than I wanted to admit. I packed my bikini, got everything ready, and my boyfriend drove the hour-long stretch of road to the gate of the country house. A big, old house, with a pool visible from the entrance and the smell of barbecue drifting through the air.

Mariana’s mother opened the door, a woman in her fifties, brown hair to her shoulders and a smile that wrinkled her eyes. She had generous curves that the dress barely concealed, and I understood right away where the daughter had gotten that body from.

—You must be… —she said, opening her arms.

—Hi, I’m Camila and he’s my boyfriend.

—The famous Camila —she squeezed my face between her hands—. Mariana always talks to me about you. Go to the back, she’s by the pool. I’m finishing a couple of things and I’ll join you.

We crossed to the back. The father, a tall, gray-haired man with very blue eyes, lifted the barbecue tongs to greet us from the grill area and nodded toward the pool.

Mariana was there, in the water up to her waist. Her platinum hair with pink ends was wet and stuck to her back. She was wearing a strapless top that pushed her breasts up, the damp fabric outlining her nipples, and a tiny black bottom riding high on her hips. For a second I feared my boyfriend would get lost staring at her. But he, true to himself, had stuck his eyes somewhere else: her feet. They were white, neat, pretty. For a fetishist like him, enough.

—Cami! Thanks for coming —she said as soon as she saw us.

—Thanks to you, beautiful. Look, I’ll introduce you.

—Nice to meet you —my boyfriend said.

—Likewise. Cami tells me a lot about you —she laughed, nervous—. Come in, the water’s gorgeous.

We changed in a little room in the back. I wore a new aqua-green bikini with raised floral detail, tiny on top and high-cut on the bottom, the kind that flatters the figure and leaves my ass exactly how I like it. My boyfriend stayed in short trunks; back then he trained a lot and everything showed. He was going to be comfortable, unless he happened to get an erection.

The three of us sat on the edge, feet in the water, and my boyfriend and Mariana clicked right away. I know him, so I noticed the things she didn’t know I noticed: how she kept looking at him a second too long, frozen, and how every so often her eyes drifted to her neckline, fleeting microsecond glances he thought were invisible. I didn’t blame him. That neckline was hard to ignore.

Twenty minutes later her mother appeared in a turquoise bikini, two tiny triangles barely containing a huge pair of breasts. She sat on the edge, dipped her feet in, and started chatting with a kind of ease her daughter didn’t have. My boyfriend, who was swimming around, greeted her with an innocent “hi.” And when he registered the woman in a bikini, he went rigid in every sense. For the first time in years I saw him uncomfortable, answering in monosyllables, getting into the water faster than usual to hide it.

I got in behind him. While we played at splashing each other, I brushed against his leg and realized it: he was rock hard. Mariana’s mother had stirred something in him, and he sank into the pool so it wouldn’t show. It made me laugh and made me a little hot, I’m not going to lie.

***

What happened next is what stayed burned into my memory. The mother said something, stood up, and went into the house. And Mariana, thinking nobody was watching, glanced at my boyfriend’s bulge under the water and froze with her mouth slightly open, petrified, as if she had never seen one before. I shot her a look of clear disapproval and she immediately changed the subject, nervous, announcing that the barbecue was almost ready.

I wasn’t really angry. I understand my boyfriend is attractive. But something lit up in me there, an idea I kept shaping throughout lunch while she watched the two of us with that almost devotional admiration: him, the boyfriend she had never had; her mother, the overpowering personality she lacked.

We ate, laughed, swam a while longer, and around eight we left. We agreed to do it again. In the car, my boyfriend drove calmly and I already had everything decided. I texted Mariana thanking her, and then another message, almost without thinking: “Tomorrow come to my place, we’ll eat something chill with my boyfriend, the least I can do.” She replied yes instantly.

I fell asleep curled up with him knowing the meal was just an excuse.

***

She arrived the next day at noon. Tight pink T-shirt, a very short pleated tennis-style miniskirt, black knee-high socks, and light sneakers. A sweet, almost childish style, which contrasted with what I had planned for her.

My boyfriend was on the sofa with a glass in his hand. He got up to greet her and I sent them to the bedroom. I locked the door, put on low, sensual music, and sat on the bed next to him. Mariana stayed standing in the middle of the room, not knowing where to put herself, waiting for an instruction she didn’t even know she was waiting for.

I ran my hand along my boyfriend’s leg, slowly, never taking my eyes off her.

—I saw you by the pool —I said, calm but sharp—. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. You were eating him up right in front of me. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?

She went bright red at once. She tried a nervous laugh, stammered, “No, dude, you’re exaggerating.” I didn’t let her finish. I stood up, walked over to her and pinched her chin between two fingers, forcing her to hold my gaze.

—So you get hot for my boyfriend. Say it.

Silence. She looked down. I squeezed a little harder.

—Say it.

—…yes —she whispered, almost inaudibly.

—Louder.

—Yes. Your boyfriend turns me on.

I smiled. I looked at my boyfriend, who already had that half-smile that drives me crazy.

—Honey, looks like we’ve got someone eager. Want to suck his cock?

He nodded, slowly, without a word, and stood in the middle of the room. The erection was already clearly visible in his pants.

—Kneel —I told her.

She hesitated. I grabbed her hair by the pink strands, not hard, just enough for her to understand it wasn’t a suggestion.

—Kneel. Now.

She dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands were trembling when she rested them on his thighs. I stood behind her and moved her hair away from her face so he could see her properly.

—Look him in the eyes while you do it. And thank him.

—Thank you… —she murmured, voice broken, while I pulled down the waistband of his pants and took out his already hard cock.

I bent down by her ear, speaking low but clear enough for him to hear too.

—You were looking at him with me right there. Now you’re going to show me how much you wanted him. Slow, deep. And if you don’t do it the way I want, I’ll grab your head and do it myself.

She opened her mouth and took him. Slowly at first. I put my hand on the back of her neck and pushed, gentle but firm, setting the pace. My boyfriend let out a low groan and grabbed her hair with one hand, but he looked at me for permission to go harder. I nodded.

—Go on, baby. It’s what she wanted.

He started moving faster, with soft gagging sounds every time I pushed a little more. Tears slipped out of her eyes and she didn’t stop. On the contrary: she moaned with him in her mouth, and I understood that what she had told me as a girl, that she was submissive, was true to the bone.

—Look at how you’re eating him —I told her in her ear—. You love having him in your mouth while I watch you. Say it.

She let him go for a second, panting.

—…yes… I love it…

—Back to it. And don’t stop.

I let her keep going, alternating between pushing her head and stroking her hair like a dog learning a trick. When I felt my boyfriend getting close, by how his legs were tensing, I spoke right against his ear.

—Don’t pull out. Swallow it all.

He came with a long groan, gripping her hair hard. She swallowed however she could, coughing, her cheeks streaked with tears. When I let her pull away, her lips were swollen and a shiny thread hung from the corner of her mouth. I wiped it with my thumb and put it in her mouth so she could suck it.

—Good girl. Now you know what happens when you look at what’s mine.

***

I looked down and saw it: the miniskirt hiked up to her waist, her legs parted, and a dark wet stain on her panties, so obvious it almost gleamed.

—Well, look at what we’ve got here —I said, touching her through the wet fabric. She shivered, a little moan slipping out—. You’re soaked. Sucking him off in front of me did this to you.

I took her chin.

—This is what you’re good for. Opening your mouth, opening your legs, letting yourself be used.

My boyfriend was already recovering, looking at us with pure desire. I gestured to him.

—Honey, get her ready.

I lifted her by one arm, took her to the center of the room, and pushed her down.

—On all fours.

She obeyed quickly, trembling, ass up and skirt all the way lifted. I took a long scarf from the drawer and tied her wrists behind her back, firm but not hurting her. I placed two pillows on the floor: one for her face, now without her hands as support, and another for her knees.

—That’s better. Tied up, unable to touch yourself, just there to take it.

I sat in the desk chair and crossed my legs.

—Slowly, baby. Let her feel every inch.

He knelt behind her, pulled down her panties to her knees, and used lube. He ran his fingers slowly over her, opening her, preparing her. She tensed, let out a tiny “oh no” when she felt the pressure.

—Shh —I stroked her hair—. Relax. You earned this.

He pushed in slowly, very slowly. Only the tip entered and she complained, her body rigid, the ties straining with the instinct to move her hands. He stayed still, giving her time, and then went in a little farther.

—It hurts… —she murmured.

—Of course it hurts. But you love it. Say it.

—…yes… wait, please…

—Stop when I say so.

He kept going, centimeter by centimeter, until he was fully inside. He stayed there, letting her get used to it. I leaned in, lifted her face from her hair, and kissed her mouth, still tasting a trace of him on her lips.

—Good girl. Now enjoy it.

He started moving, short thrusts first, then deeper. Every time he went all the way in, she let out a louder, more broken moan. The pain faded quickly; within minutes she was already pushing back, seeking him, her hips moving on their own.

—Look at how turned on she is —I told my boyfriend, laughing softly—. Harder.

He sped up, holding her hips, controlled but firm. She moaned nonstop, incoherent words mixed with “yes… more…”. I knelt beside her and slipped two fingers into her while he kept going from behind. She was dripping. I rubbed her clit in quick circles and she exploded almost instantly, her body convulsing, the restraints pulling tight because she wanted to grab onto something and couldn’t. She clenched around him so hard that my boyfriend couldn’t hold back and came inside her.

***

I untied her carefully, stroked her reddened wrists, and helped her lie on her side on the floor, still panting. I bent down, brushing the sweaty hair away from her face.

—This is what you’re good for. For being used and made to come like never before. Next time you look at him by the pool, you’ll remember this and get wet all by yourself.

She nodded, exhausted, with a weak, satisfied smile.

I still didn’t let her go. I sat on the edge of the bed, opened my legs, and called her over by the hair.

—Come here. Kneel and make me come. Like the good submissive girl you are.

She crawled to me and buried her face between my thighs, tongue flat, licking from bottom to top. I pressed her head against me.

—Harder. The clit. And look me in the eyes.

I ground myself against her mouth, setting the rhythm, until I felt the orgasm rising. I grabbed her hair, arched my back, and came trembling all over while she licked every drop without pulling away.

When I was done, I pushed her back gently.

—Good girl.

***

After that we ate something in the kitchen, the three of us as if nothing had happened, and I told her she was staying the night, but not in the bed. I set up a mattress on the floor of the room, arranged so she could see everything.

—You’re sleeping there. And you’re going to watch us.

She looked up, confused, but said nothing. She nodded, obedient as always.

I turned off the main light and left the bedside lamp on. I took off my clothes slowly, climbed into bed with my boyfriend, and held him, skin to skin. We kissed slowly, deeply, as if the world began and ended between the two of us. His hands traveled over my back, my waist, with that tenderness he only has for me. He got on top of me, spread my legs gently, and entered slowly, looking into my eyes the whole time. I moaned softly, not from haste, but from pure connection. We moved at the same rhythm, slow, deep, like dancing to a song only we could hear.

From the floor I could feel her watching us. She didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, but she was there, eyes fixed on us, seeing how we loved each other for real.

—Look —I said without stopping, without breaking eye contact with my boyfriend—. That’s how two people make love. You’ll never have this. You’re good for being used. This, what lasts, is only ours.

My boyfriend sped up a little, but stayed tender, kissing my forehead, whispering things in my ear. I dug my nails into his back, wrapped my legs around his waist, and asked for more, closer, deeper inside. When he came, it was deep, and I stayed wrapped around him, trembling, eyes wet with pure feeling.

I turned slightly and saw her: still clutching the sheet to her chest, face red, eyes bright. Not with arousal this time. With something more resigned.

—See? —I told her softly, sweet and cruel at once—. That’s what you’ll never have. You’re the toy. Now sleep. Tomorrow you leave early. And remember: if you look at what’s mine again, today will look like child’s play.

She nodded in the dark. I curled up against my boyfriend’s chest, felt his heart beating hard, and whispered that I loved him. He kissed the top of my head.

—Always —he said.

And that’s how we fell asleep, wrapped around each other, full of one another, while she, on the mattress on the floor, stared into the dark knowing exactly where her place was.