It happens on accident.
Betty should have learned by now that her curiosity will only ever lead to trouble, but, somehow, she convinces herself that playing another drinking game with Bret Weston Wallis is a good idea. Her boyfriend has sequestered himself in his room after being hit by a sudden burst of inspiration, and though he feels guilty for cutting into Betty’s visit, she assured him that it’s fine. She knows his muse can be fleeting, and she wants him to get the most out of this dose of creativity before he hits another writer’s block.
Besides, if she can get any leverage on Bret for her boyfriend to use then her weekend won’t be a total waste. That’s how she ends up alone with him in an empty classroom in the middle of the night, sharing a bottle of something dark and bitter. Bret is careful and vague in his answers, clearly as suspicious of Betty as she is of him, but the more buzzed they get, the less they pretend that they don’t know where this is going.
“I can understand why Jones was so distracted back in Riverdale,” Bret groans as he wraps Betty’s ponytail around his fist and tugs tight, forcing his cock even further down her throat. Betty moans as the pain quickly dissolves under the thick haze of pleasure and alcohol coursing through her, and she doesn’t realize that she’s begun grinding her pussy against Bret’s shoe until she feels the knot of the laces rub at her now-hard, throbbing clit. She’s still dressed, technically, but the thin material of her pajama shorts and the thinner material of her panties lets her feel every brush of friction as if she was completely bare.
She doesn’t really know how she ended up on her knees, desperately and aroused as Bret fucks his cock down her throat, but she’s far too drunk to stop.
“I wouldn’t get any writing done either if I had a horny slut for a girlfriend.” Bret yanks her off of his cock and tugs her hair back so that her gaze is forced onto his, and though she tries to glare, it’s less effective with the tears brimming in her eyes from his long, thick cock stretching out her throat. It’s big, and if the deep thrusts of his hips is anything to go off of, Bret knows how to use it.
A whimper escapes her lips and Bret laughs, takes his cock in his other hand and teases it against her parted lips. Betty tries to lick it, but he tugs her back by her hair so she’s just out of reach.
He laughs again, forces her mouth open by her chin and shoves his cock back down her throat, and Betty’s eyes nearly roll back as she moans again, grinding down harder on Bret’s shoe as she sucks and sucks. “Guess if Jones has been your only cock so far, it makes sense that you’d lose your mind over mine. But I’ll tell you what, Betty: keep grinding on my shoe like the whore you are, and if you can make me come before you, I’ll grace your greedy little cunt with my cock. I won’t even say a word to Jones.”
Betty’s mewl gets caught in her throat as Bret thrusts back in, the burn making her pussy drip and her clit throb harder, and any ounce of guilt she still felt dissolves under the white-hot rush of alcohol and pleasure that shoots through her.
(She knows that Bret’s cum and the smell of sex must still be sticking to her skin despite how hard she tried to rinse it off in the bathroom, but luckily Jughead is still too distracted by his laptop to notice.)
Betty has steered clear of Bret for the most part when she’s back at Stonewall two weekends later, but she’s felt his eyes on her all day. She felt her nipples tighten under her sweater the moment he caught her gaze from across the hallway, his cocky smirk perfectly in place, and when she’d gone with Jughead to talk to Mr. Chipping’s classroom so he could ask about whatever their next salon would be about, Betty’s clit had throbbed as her eyes landed on Mr. Chipping’s desk, her pussy wetting in an instant as memories of Bret bending her over the antique wood furniture and fucking her rushed back.
She’d mumbled some excuse about feeling a little sick to Jughead when her boyfriend finally noticed how her flushed her cheeks had gotten, and when she tries to sputter out an excuse, he assumed she felt guilty about her sudden cold ruining her weekend visit. He told her it was fine and that he actually had a lot of writing to get done, but she was always welcome to stay in his room and sleep off her cold for the rest of the weekend instead of heading back to Riverdale early.
Jughead takes his laptop into the library so Betty can rest for the night, and barely ten minutes later, she hears a knock on the door, looking up from her phone to see Bret strolling in with a smirk on his face.
“Saw your boyfriend working in the library,” he drawls before Betty can snap at him to get out, and her retort dies quickly on her tongue as Bret begins unbuckling his belt and unzipping his slacks. He pulls his long, hard cock out and wraps one of his hands around it, and Betty’s pussy twitches in an instant despite the panic that shoots through her as her eyes flit from his cock to the still-opened door behind Bret. It’s barely parted an inch, but she still scrambles down Jughead’s bunk, rushing past him to shut the door and lock it.
“Bret,” Betty hisses, whirling around to narrow her eyes, but her gaze catches on the white wetness gathering at the tip of his cock as he lazily strokes himself.
“I knew you were eager to see me again,” Bret chuckles, and Betty stubbornly shakes her head, even as her clit throbs, her eyes unable to move from Bret’s cock. He steps closer, making Betty stumble backwards until she hits the heavy door behind her, and Bret takes advantage of her second of distraction to grasp at her ponytail and yank her down onto her knees in front of him.
“Let go,” she growls, shoving at his legs in an attempt to tug herself away, but he has both hands on her now, yanking her struggling body forward. She cries out at the harsh tug on her arms as Bret makes her stumble on her knees, forcing her flat onto her stomach on the floor. “Bret!” she snaps, starting to scream out, but Bret’s laugh cuts her off as she feels his hand roughly yanking her jeans and her panties down her ass until they’re bunched around her knees.
“You can yell all you want, slut, but almost nothing carries through these walls.” He shoves a hand between her legs, slides his fingers through her folds and snickers when he finds them already wet. “Were you thinking about me all day?” He rubs at her clit, and Betty moans, momentarily distracted from her struggling as her body shifts back against his fingers, seeking more. “Were you this wet thinking about how much bigger I am than your boyfriend? How much better I can fuck you?”
“N-no,” she protests breathily, her cunt twitching when he brushes his fingers over her entrance.
“No?” He finds her clit again, rubbing fast, tight circles, and Betty’s head falls onto the carpet as she tries to muffle a moan. “I saw you and Forsythe in Mr. Chipping’s classroom earlier. Being in there didn’t bring back memories? Didn’t make your slutty little cunt ache, remembering how hard I fucked you over his desk? Or how you came all over his floor because you were desperately grinding against my shoe as you swallowed every drop of my cum?”
Betty feels her face flush in embarrassment, not even trying to deny it as those very memories that had rushed through her earlier come flooding back. She’s been wet all day, ever since stepping inside of Mr. Chipping’s classroom, and every brush of her jeans against herself through her panties a steady, teasing friction that had been hard to distract Jughead from and even harder to distract herself from, too. She’d been so desperate for relief that she hadn’t even bothered kicking her jeans off once Jughead had left her in his bed to head to the library; she’d simply pulled up one of her saved porn videos on her phone and shoved her hand into her panties, rubbing at her clit, and she’d just been on the edge of finally coming when Bret had walked in.
And she’s at that edge again as Bret fucks her deep and fast with three fingers. She can feel his body curved over hers, his hard cock pressing against the round cheek of her ass, and it feels as if it only takes seconds before she’s presses her face against the carpet and screaming out in orgasm.
Her body is still shaking in pleasure when she feels Bret pull away, and she’s far too consumed by her high to attempt to escape now. Betty can feel her orgasm pooling onto the carpet beneath her, and it makes her come harder, thinking about how it’ll be hard for Jughead to miss the smell of sex this time with her cum soaking the floor.
Bret’s hands are on her hips, lifting her ass off of the carpet just enough so he can thrust his cock into her, and Betty keens out a moan as he buries himself to the hilt. He feels so much bigger like this, somehow, especially with how little she can really spread her legs with her jeans still caught around her knees. Bret groans, too, the tremors of her first orgasm still rippling through her and making her pussy clamp and clamp around his cock before it’s all the way in, and then he starts fucking her, hard and rough.
Betty presses her face into the carpet to stifle her moans, but she feels Bret wrap her ponytail around his fist once again, tugging her head up and letting her wanton sounds echo through the air. “That’s right, slut,” Bret grunts, and Betty moans louder when she feels his other hand smack at her ass, “let me hear you. Let’s see if your cries will still be echoing off of these walls when you’re cuddled up with your boyfriend tonight and dreaming of my cock.”
Humiliation unfurls in her stomach, making her clit throb and her body squirm under the unrelenting pleasure building at the base of her spine. Then she feels Bret’s hand wedge itself under her body and between her legs to rub at her clit, and she cries out louder and longer as her second orgasm crashes over her.
And Bret doesn’t ease up, doesn’t pause for a second as he yanks her up by her ponytail and onto her hands and knees, her legs and arms shaking and already threatening to give out from under her as he smacks her ass again and again. Her cheeks throb, every spank making them all the more sensitive to the brush of his hips as he continues fucking her at a steady pace.
“Leave it to Jones to find himself a secret pain slut,” Bret taunts as he lands another smack on her ass, the hardest yet, and, as if on cue, Betty shrieks out as her third orgasm squirts out of her and onto the carpet. Bret laughs, and the pure humiliation that bursts through only makes her come harder, her nails clawing at the floor and her legs scrambling to pull her off of Bret’s cock even though he still holds her in place by her ponytail, fucking her faster. “Oh, this is definitely giving me ideas for next time,” Bret chuckles.
Betty hopes to God that there isn’t a next time, but as she feels Bret’s hips jerking against hers, making her body quiver in anticipation for his hot cum to start spilling inside of her, she knows it’s useless to believe otherwise.
Betty can’t really look her boyfriend in the eye when she shows up at his dorm to surprise him only one week later. He’s happy to see her, she can tell, but also guilty because he’d already made plans to lock himself in his room to work and he doesn’t want to be thrown off schedule by losing out on a weekend of writing. Betty tells him that it’s fine, that it’s her fault for trying to find out if he had any plans before showing up unannounced, but it doesn’t totally ease his guilt when she offers to stay, anyway, so she can be there for him when he needs a break.
“Won’t you get bored?”
Betty tries not to blush as she shakes her head. “Stonewall may be a little stiff for my tastes, but who wouldn’t love to spend a night in that library?” she asks with enough enthusiasm in her voice that it must be convincing, because her boyfriend just smiles sweetly and shrugs in agreement, telling her to have fun in there.
She doubts he means she should let Bret strip her bare and pull her onto his cock as he sprawls on his back on one of the leather couches, but, well.
What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
“Just as I thought,” Bret drawls as he fixes his cocky smirk on Betty’s face as she rides and rides his cock. He isn’t touching her, just has his hands folded behind his head, and despite the fact that she’s been fucking herself hard on his cock and rubbing desperately at her own clit for forty minutes, she hasn’t come once. Every time she feels the pleasure ready to crash over her, it starts to fall away, and she whines in protest as body shivers and her hips stutter, the sensation fading away once more. “You can’t come without being roughed up, can’t you, Betty?”
She wants to shake her head and protest, but then Bret reaches up with both hands and pinches her nipples hard, and Betty squeals at the sharp burst of pain as her clit pulses under her fingers. She knows Bret feels her reaction, too, as her cunt starts clamping and clamping around his cock, making him chuckle – and then he starts roughly rolling both nipples between his thumbs and fingers and Betty instantly grinds down harder on his cock, eyes rolling back as her entire body throbs in arousal.
But she should know better than to give Bret a second to work with, because only seconds after her eyes have fluttered closed, they’re flying open wide as she yelps sharply at the sudden pinch in both of her nipples. It’s harder and colder than Bret’s fingers had been, and she glances down to find two small, metal clamps fastened each nipple. There’s a chain connecting them, and Betty finds Bret’s glinting gaze as he wraps hooks his fingers under the chain and tugs.
It’s instant and hard, the way Betty comes from that one, harsh sensation, head tossed back and her cries echoing through the air. Bret says almost no one comes into the library this late if they aren’t already there to work, and though they’ve in a hidden corner on the second floor, which is visited even less than the first floor, it still makes her body throb with humiliation of the thought that anyone could hear her and come looking. It makes her come harder, and every squirm of her body makes the clamps tug at her nipples, the painful pleasure shooting through her and dragging out her high.
It feels like a long moment before Betty sways forward, body slumping as her orgasm finally starts to taper off, and she watches through blurry eyes as Bret unknots his tie and pulls it from around his neck. He loops it once through the chain of her nipple clamps and then shoves the tie up against Betty’s lips, which are still parted as she tries to catch her breath. The sudden motion tugs at the clamps, but her moan is muffled as Bret shoves the chain and the tie into her mouth, and he knots the tie in place against Betty’s mouth. The chain is just short enough that it tugs Betty’s breasts higher in this position, making the clamps feel even tighter against Betty’s now-sensitive nipples, and already, she can feel her clit throbbing and throbbing in pain and pleasure.
“Let’s see how easy it will be to make you come now,” Bret taunts, grasping Betty’s wrists and holding them tightly in his hands before she can try to free her nipples, and he uses his grip on her for leverage as he starts fucking up into her without abandon.
It would be embarrassing how quickly she comes for a second time thanks to the torturous pleasure on yanking at her nipples, but she’s far too lost in her high to care.
She comes three more times like this, her pussy oversensitive and her nipples even more so as Bret fucks and fucks and fucks her, the chain tugging on her nipples every time her head starts to loll back from pleasure. When Bret finally starts to come, he lets go of her wrists and lets her body fall forward onto his as he holds their hips flushed together, his cock throbbing and twitching as spurt after spurt of his cum is emptied inside of her.
(Her nipples still feel as if they’re throbbing as she kisses Jughead goodbye at the end of the weekend, and, judging by the smirk that Bret gives her when he catches her eye down the hallway, he knows it, too.)
“I think maybe I should leave you here like this and let Forsythe find you,” Bret taunts and he rolls the vibe over her clit once more, making her squeal out in yet another orgasm as it squirts out of her and wets her stomach and her thighs. He has her wrists bound to her ankles, her body stripped naked and her legs spread wide as she lays over Jughead’s desk as Bret sits in his chair, holding the vibrator to Betty’s pussy in one hand as he tugs at the chain of her nipple clamps with his other.
Betty’s body slumps against the cum-soaked surface of the desk as he pulls the vibe off and lets the chain drop from his hand, her eyes rolling closed as her body shivers from the tremors of her orgasm. But the sound of a zipper being tugged down has her eyes fluttering open only seconds later, and she sucks in a gasp as Bret steps close, the thick tip of his cock prodding at the tight rim of her ass.
“No, Bret, please,” she breathes in protest, but he has the vibrator back against her clit, holding it in place as she cuts herself off with a keening moan, which climbs to a high squeal as he thrusts his hips forward and slides deep into her ass with one thrust. Her eyes cross from burning pain that dissolves quickly into pleasure as he rolls and rolls the vibe over her clit, and she’s so wet and pliant from coming so many times that he starts thrusting into her ass with little resistance.
Then he grasps at the chain, giving her nipples another tug, and her ass starts tightening around him as she squeals.
“Maybe having Jones here won’t be so bad after all,” Bret muses, his smirk blurring out of focus as Betty’s eyes start watering with yet another orgasm quickly building down her spine. “As long as his slutty little girlfriend keeps dropping by for a visit.”