Chapter Text
Jon, as Archivist, generally sticks to his own office, where he can lock himself in and scramble back into clothes should they have a visitor. The other three are rarely needed personally, so as long as there's an assistant in the bullpen to direct and distract visitors any one of them can be long gone, high-tailed to the darkest, deepest corners of the Archives. Jon only hangs around in the bullpen when they're sure that their most common visitors are universally unlikely to pop down.
The ones they like have been given subtle nudges, just enough to boost their research to the finish line at lunchtime Friday. Half a day isn't long enough to get a substantive start on anything new with the weekend so close, so researchers who finish Friday morning are allowed to take a half-day and leave at lunch. None of the frequent visitors they actually like are from any other department, so it works nicely.
The only slights Jon is willing to acknowledge against himself are deliberately petty and entirely incidental, mostly people who checked out books he wanted and made him wait, and Jacob in Research, who's lovely but accident-prone and once managed to get a finger stuck in the adjustable screw-holes on Jon's desk's leg. The three of them maintain a List of people who have been awful to Jon, regardless.
Likewise, Martin refuses to agree that anything in his anecdotes could ever be objectionable, and Jon is entirely willing to join the coalition maintaining a different List. The prime position on that List, unfortunately, is out of reach of their petty vengeance, so they just lay in supplies of ice cream and movies when Martin's gone to see his Mum.
(Sasha, she knows, has her own List, but it's ridiculous. All three of her boyfriends have been threatened out of any interference on her behalf. Tim is Listless by default, because they don't have access to his heinous old boss at his publishing job and he's a wonderful person who otherwise, like Sasha, has no enemies.)
The remainder of their most frequent visitors occupy one or both Lists. She and Tim are positive that Leigh volunteers to be the one to come down to the Archives whenever possible specifically to be terrible to Martin. She looks much too put out when Martin, using company time for good or ill, is in the stacks instead of at his desk.
Martin has several friends in the Library still, though, who are willing to do him a favor every few months and hide a list of titles for a couple days. He and Tim are frustratingly competent at gleaning details about people's projects without drawing suspicion. All the titles the remaining researchers need for their current projects have spent the week checked out for intense use by one of them, or disappeared mysteriously for most of the week. The researchers have just received them, and Sasha feels very little regret about taking a stroll through the Library and making seemingly-innocent but time-consuming messes to ensure none of their usual visitors make it down to the Archives this afternoon.
Jon takes the ball gag without resistance, and follows his leash when Sasha leads him into the bullpen. "Show her, Whore," she says, handing the leash to Martin and assuming a disinterested mien.
Jon is placed in Martin's position of the morning, in the space between her desk and Tim's. They initially placed them so close so that they could pass each other things without it being disruptive to their focus, but once they started bringing play to the office... well, it's certainly useful. Jon's muscles tense and he makes soft noises behind the gag, legs spread and on all fours, back parallel to the floor. The weight dangling from his piercing sways lazily with the tense and untense of his muscles, trying to stay motionless enough that the file Sasha set on his back won't slide off.
"Good girl," Sasha says to Martin. "You deserve a reward."
Martin's mouth curves wickedly. "Thank you, Mistress."
Jon whines and struggles when Martin kneels behind him and, with the bare minimum of preparation, starts to fuck him in the ass. The file shifts dangerously with every thrust, and Sasha suspects that Jon's legs are twitching for more than balance.
Before Martin finishes, of course, the file finally tumbles to the floor. Jon's chest jolts as he takes a surprised breath at the sound, but Martin pays it no mind. The file isn't real, just scratch paper in a folder beat up enough to be destined for the bin if she didn't adopt it to add verisimilitude to occasions like this. When Martin plugs and abandons Jon, Sasha swats at his thighs with another folder. "Bad girl."
Jon whines, but Martin looks up expectantly, and Sasha passes him the pumps from her bag. Jon is left gasping from the weight of them dangling from his swollen chest. Sasha sits back in her chair a bit and sets her mug on Jon's back. "Here."
Martin crawls under her desk and up her skirt obediently, and Sasha lets her head tip back. Martin is conscientious about giving good oral, and today is no exception. She buries a hand in his hair and looks at Jon, tortured and humiliated with his waist squeezed to a nothing, arousal growing with every tremble she watches send the pumps and weights swinging. She closes her eyes and comes with a moan. "Good girl."
-
They wait out the end of the workday on days like today. Tim and Sasha both have theatrical stacks to demonstrate their need to work a bit past the end of the day, should anyone come down and send Jon and Martin into the stacks to hide, but he doesn't think they'll be needed. It's only happened once or twice, and never on a Friday. Facilities won't come down, they have their own stash of cleaning supplies and leave bags and empty containers at the top of the stairs to be taken to the dumpster and replaced. It means none of them feel particularly guilty about filthy happenings, so Tim thinks it's worth cleaning a bit of regular filth as needed.
Jon spends the entire afternoon trying not to make noise, limbs edging in and out of tremors as he tries to hold his position without spilling any of what they've stacked on his back. Sasha keeps picking her mug up and setting it in slightly different places, as if she were actually drinking the water in the prop mug. Martin brings them tea, which they keep on their desks, but Sasha can't help needling Jon. Jon, Tim is sure, would agree with her actions were he to ask; they have the same taste for a certain kind of realism. Every time Tim taps on Jon's temple, he pats a green against the floor.
When they've heard the crowd depart above them, and then half an hour of additional stragglers, Sasha runs up to the supply closet for a new box of staples. They've been getting by with increasingly absurd improvised paperclips for a day and a half to preserve the errand, because all three of the others have horrors about taking anything unnecessarily and won't let Tim do it instead. She knocks an all-clear on the door to the top of the stairs so no one jolts out of position when they hear her jogging down.
"We're good!" she says. Jon moans.
Martin is easily ordered back into the clothes he wore in. Jon is left to sweat it out as all their other immediately pre-departure tasks are taken care of, things left in order for their return on Monday and double-checked into their bags to take home.
The weight on the end of the plug in Jon's cunt is replaced with a much lighter one after he's confirmed that he's sure there really won't be any unfortunate accidents on the way home with it. His nipples, freed from the pumps, are swollen and red, and he gasps every time something brushes his chest. He meekly dresses in the clothes Sasha gives him, short dress with a cinched waist that emphasizes his figure and rests barely on the right side or indecent. He sways on his heels, which are tall enough to be a bit jarring in their departure from what Tim expects.
He's still swaying when they reach home, but not for long. As soon as the door is shut behind them, Tim steps neatly to the side and sweeps Jon into his arms, racing up the stairs as fast as he safely can while Jon laughs and shrieks, too surprised to try to stick to the game. He goes for the heels first, once he tosses Jon somewhere in the middle of the bed and kicks off his own shoes, but makes quick work of the dress and Jon's glasses. He's pulling up the negligee when Sasha and Martin charge in laughing.
"I think bad girls ought to have to make it up before we're done," he says to them, but mostly sideways toward Jon to catch his reaction.
Jon moans and arches beneath Tim. "Please, sir, I want to be good."
Tim works on arranging Jon to his preference while the others peel out of their clothes, Martin's collar set aside when he nods to Sasha's unspoken question. He snaps a few pictures of Jon, stilling the corset and panties, spread out on the bed before they swarm around him.
Tim takes his ass, because Martin already had a shot at it and he wants to torture Jon, just a tiny bit, before releasing him from the ropes holding him to the headboard and the game. Martin toys with Jon's swollen, sore chest. Sasha wraps her legs around his face and buries her hands in his hair, head thrown back and the column of her throat beautiful against the bedroom's warm light.
Jon makes noises that go straight to Tim's dick, whimpering and moaning in equal measure. Martin's attentions on his chest look painful, but when Martin taps the back of Jon's hand to check he snaps his fingers three times. He's hot and tight around Tim, squirming but pinned.
Tim comes to the expression on Jon's face when Sasha finishes and joins Martin at his chest.
They lie there for a bit, the three of them loose and tired while Jon continues to react vocally to Martin's attention on his chest. When Tim catches his breath, he reaches around and starts circling Jon's clit with his fingers. "Good girl."
Sasha is the next to rouse, and Martin abandons Jon's chest. Even with two of them, Tim fingers Jon to orgasm almost before they get the collar off, whispering what a good girl he's been all the while.
-
Sasha has an infinite well of energy that Martin's rather envious of. While the three of them are loose-limbed on the bed, still shaking off the afterglow and helping Jon out of his getup, she bounced back off the bed and runs downstairs. By the time Martin, as the most aware of the trio, gets off the bed and goes to run the bath, he can hear her on the phone.
They elect to wait for Sasha in the bath, because it sounds much more appealing than to hang around unable to talk over the roar of the water than to get chilly or climb back into their clothes on the bed to wait it out. He means to push Jon at Tim, to be pampered a bit after spending the whole week collared, but there's a flurry of movement he wasn't expecting and then Martin is the one sitting in Tim's lap with Tim's fingers against his scalp, gently rubbing in shampoo. He goes to say something in protest, but then Jon is at his chest, kissing and teasing the thoughts right out of Martin's head.
"Food!" Sasha says, an unknown amount of time later when Martin is sleepy and warm and they've turned the water off. She shucks her clothes, still dressed for the office aside from the panties that got thrown somewhere when they arrived upstairs. Tim releases Martin from his lap to help her get the food situated.
"I thought we were getting dumplings," Martin says when he's passed a bag of greasily delicious fish and chips. Dumplings are Jon's favorite, and should be the obvious choice.
Sasha raises her eyebrows and holds up a carton, shaking it gently before she lets Tim hand it to Jon. It takes until Jon pries it open and takes the fork Tim offers him to attack his dumplings for Martin to realize.
He sets his food on the edge of the tub and sinks into the water up to his eyes, even though he knows that it won't fool anyone into thinking that whatever his face is doing under the mountains of bubbles that resulted from Tim taking a heavy hand with the bubble bath, he isn't blushing and smiling.
Dumplings are Jon's favorite, and they usually get whoever had the most tiring day when they order takeout to package with their aftercare. Fish and chips is Martin's favorite.
It shouldn't surprise him to be included in things like that after so long, but it does.
He doesn't try to direct Tim away when the food is gone and he goes to continue playing with Martin's hair, possibly with shampoo included at some point but Martin isn't sure. Sasha goes to Jon, so he lets himself just relax into fingers in his hair and kisses on his shoulders and sweet nothings in his ears.
The second Tim's hands are gone, Martin spins and returns the favor by kissing him breathless.