The thing with Laurel was just that Barry wasn't sure what to expect from her. She was such a sweet and gentle lady when spoken to, and she was classy and professional in her crisp suit as the DA - and then at night she would dress herself in tight black leather to beat men up.
Okay so Oliver and Barry were also dressed up in tight, basically leather outfits, but neither of them looked so kinky doing it.
Barry thought he was probably the problem himself, to look at a woman in black leather giving a thug a beating and think 'wow hot', but that didn't erase the fact that he couldn't rhyme Black Canary with sweet Laurel Lance.
It was several months - and several kinks - into his relationship with Oliver until he saw her don the black leather again and he finally understood. He wasn't supposed to match the two personalities, just like he wasn't supposed to match the Arrow with Oliver Queen.
But now he had seen it and now he couldn't unsee Laurel and Black Canary as one.
That being said, he couldn't have been more nervous to meet her in a more private setting than out on the streets fighting the big baddies, and still clad in tight leather.
It wasn't her Black Canary outfit - thank god - but it wasn't any easier, with the thigh high boots laced up all the way up the front of her thighs, the cinched leather corset, the long gloves - the crop she was twirling between the elegant gloves fingers.
Yep, he was nervous. At least Oliver was nervous with him.
"You both look like I'm about to roast you over a low fire," she pointed out, looking far too pleased with that observation. "Don't be so nervous, I'm not going to hurt either of you… much."
She did that on purpose. It had to be.
"Oliver, kneel." The command was crisp and simple, without any room to argue as she pointed down at her boots. "Barry, you can go kneel next to the bed and use it for support if you need it. Get preparing, because you'll be sitting on Oliver's cock for the majority of the night."
Barry's cock jumped at the thought, and for a split second he debated telling her there was no way Oliver would last that long. He decided against it immediately, mostly because he didn't have the courage to oppose her for even a hair.
He hurried to follow her instructions while Oliver reluctantly sank to his knees in front of Laurel, and she addressed the problem that Barry had thought of by pulling a cockring from under the edge of one of her boots. The idea of her storing sexual torture devices against her thigh like that was too arousing to dwell on, if Barry didn't want to end up embarrassing himself.
"Oliver never submitted to you, did he Barry?" Laurel sounded amused, but Barry had been getting the lube out of the nightstand so he missed her facial expression. He only looked around in time to see her snapping the cockring over the base of Oliver's cock and then standing to her full height again, weaving her fingers through his short cropped hair.
Barry swallowed heavily. "N-no, ma'am. He never did."
"I didn't think he would." She pulled Oliver close, mushing his face against the strip of skin that was showing of her thigh between the boot and the panties. "He always did have a problem with authority. Didn't you, Ollie?"
"Yes, ma'am." His voice was reluctantly quiet and muffled against her thigh. Barry loved it.
Or he loved it right until Laurel glanced at him and frowned disapprovingly. "Didn't I tell you what to do, just now? Quit stalling before my patience runs out, boy."
"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am!" Barry squeaked, fumbling with the lube and lathering his fingers with it. He leaned over the side of the bed so he could prop his arse up in the air for better reach, sliding his slick fingers over his hole a few times before pressing the first in.
Laurel watched until she was satisfied he was obeying, and only then did she give Oliver her attention back. Her grip on his head tightened a little, pushing his face even harder against her thigh before letting go.
"You can start kissing any time now, Ollie," she sneered. "Those thighs aren't worshipping themselves."
Barry watched with wide eager eyes as Oliver gingerly looked up to make sure she was serious, visibly gulping when her face was set in determination. Sure, they had all agreed on this play, but they has also all known that Oliver would be having major issues with submitting. Which was, of course, exactly why Laurel was doing it.
Oliver needed to let go, and Barry wasn't able to coach that out of him by himself, no matter how badly he wanted to be there for his boyfriend in all the ways he needed. But Laurel knew all the right buttons to push, and had happily agreed to helping them out.
Right now, Oliver looked like he seriously regretted it. If Barry didn't know for certain that Oliver was not too proud to use his safeword when needed, he'd be calling it himself now. But no… no, Oliver was just sinking right into the space Laurel was driving him to.
Oliver reluctantly stuck out his tongue, flicking it against Laurel's thigh. He leaned a little closer again to press light kisses over the skin and Barry could see the hair raising in response. Oliver was, of course, being a tease on purpose.
Laurel knew, and Laurel didn't accept it. Laurel roughly pushed his head down lower so he was forced to kiss the leather of her high boot instead of her skin.
"Don't stop now, Ollie," she jeered when he hesitated. Her reminder to Oliver made Barry aware he was slacking himself as well, and he quickly increased the pace at which he was fingering his hole open. He doubted his luck would last if he kept disobeying, even if he didn't do it on purpose.
Still, it wasn't like he could look away from Oliver kissing and licking the leather covering Laurel's thigh. Oliver looked so reluctant and Laurel looked so smug, and that made it all the better. Until Laurel focused back on Barry.
"Is our little boy ready for some cock?" she cooed at him, and the degradation she laced in her tone was sending cold shivers down Barry's spine. Cold shivers he was revelling in, even if this was his first time being addressed in a tone like that. Laurel truly did know what she was doing here.
"I-I'm ready, ma'am," he blurted, even while quickly pumping his fingers in and out of himself for as much stretching as he could still get in. It wasn't as much as Oliver would prepare him normally, but it should be enough. The sting of it would only make it better.
"Good. Now be a good boy and crawl over here."
Barry barely remembered to wipe the lube off his fingers over his thigh before he would spread it all over the floor, and quickly crawled back to where Laurel stood with Oliver still worshipping her thigh. He was looking a little less reluctant by now, and it made him look only hotter for it.
"Oh, my bad." Laurel giggled as if she didn't make a mistake entirely on purpose. "I actually need that gag from the bed. Do be a dear and grab it for me, Barry."
"Y-yes ma'am." He turned to crawl back awkwardly, not daring to stand up even when he needed to lean all over the bed to grab the gag she mentioned. She had it laid out with several other toys she clearly intended to use, and the assortment made Barry's cock twitch in anticipation. A plug, a length of black rope, a cane… she was still holding a crop too, even if she hadn't actually used it so far.
When Barry returned, awkwardly crawling with only one hand because he needed to hold the ball gag in the other, she gave him a proud smile.
"See? That's how a good boy behaves, Ollie."
Oliver only grunted against her thigh, and now she finally put the crop to use, swatting his backside with it from where she stood. "Manners, Ollie. Anyway, let's get our good boy all settled, shall we?" She held out her hand for the gag.
Barry had actually expected the gag to be for Oliver, considering he was the one that needed the taming here. Barry had only been on his best behaviour and certainly hadn't spoken without permission, so his face fell when Laurel leaned over to him with the gag in both hands, rather than Oliver.
She had the crop clenched under an arm while she gently wedged the ball gag into Barry's mouth, closing the clasp behind his head while the crop teased against his chest. She slid her fingers back over the straps to his mouth to test its tightness, and she gave him a concerned look when leaning away. "Not too tight?"
Barry shook his head quickly, and just as quickly the haughty smile was back in place.
"That's my good boy."
If Barry hadn't been gagged he'd be beaming at the praise, leaning into her slightly in his enthusiasm. She must've seen it in his eyes because she gave him a fond little smile and ruffled his hair before issuing her next order.
"Get on the bed, Barry. And you, Ollie, go lay down, hands over your head. Time to put you in your place."
Barry was the first to scramble up on the bed, because Oliver was reluctant to follow. But he still did, and he even crawled like a good boy to get up far enough to lay down. Oliver was pointedly avoiding Barry's eyes, and Barry understood exactly why - he was still adapting to the role he had here, with Laurel, under Barry's watchful eyes - but Barry couldn't stop looking at his lover. He hadn't been given permission from Laurel, but he still trailed his finger over Oliver's skin, tracing a featherlight path up from his hip to his shoulder. If Laurel disapproved, she didn't mention it, more preoccupied taking Oliver's hands and tying them to the headboard with the length of rope she'd had prepared.
She made Oliver some proper rope cuffs, wrist to elbow over his head so there was no way for him to wriggle himself out of it like he did. The line to the headboard seemed almost an afterthought, just to keep him in place rather than to restrain him all that much.
"Take a seat, Barry," she chirped, sounding more than a little mischievous as she gestured at Oliver's hard, ringed cock. "Ride him, but I suggest you preserve your energy. You'll be going for a while."
Despite her cautioning, Barry was eager to mount his lover's cock. Laurel handed him the lube so he could slick Oliver's cock up beforehand, but then he was quick to straddle Oliver's hips and reach down beneath him to angle Oliver's cock up. It was impossible not to moan around the gag at the breach of his hole, and Oliver wasn't quite able to hold back from making a tight little noise himself.
Barry sank down slow but steady, not stopping until he was sitting right on Oliver's hips. He glanced at Laurel for her approval, and when she gave him a nod he started to move, rolling his hips slowly to push and pull Oliver's cock inside of him. Oliver felt so huge after so little preparation, and it was an exquisite feeling of fullness that Barry craved more of. Every time he pressed down onto Oliver's hips he could feel his lover twitch, feel the slight movement of his hips below him in his need to fuck upwards into Barry.
But he wasn't getting anymore than Barry was giving him, and Barry had been told to preserve his power for a long ride. And honestly, they had both signed up for some good torture when asking Laurel to join them.
"Such a good boy," she cooed, sitting next to Oliver's head and stroking through his short cropped hair as if petting a dog. "Is he always such a good boy for you, Ollie? Just look at him, all slow and beautiful. He's like a dancer and we're getting a private show here."
Barry whimpered behind his gag, but Oliver didn't respond. Oliver's eyes were fixed on Barry now, as if his gentle bouncing was hypnotising him.
"Ollie." Laurel's tone was warning. "I asked you a question. Don't test me."
Oliver licked his lips, visibly swallowed, and then finally ground out a response. "Yes… he's always this good for me." A pause and a tightening of Laurel's hand before he added: "Ma'am."
"And so beautiful," Laurel repeated, giving Barry an approving once-over that had him shudder. "Or I should say pretty. He's positively pretty. Is that why he caught your eye, Ollie? You always loved pretty women; is that what you saw in Barry?"
"No ma'am." Oliver's jaw set, and Barry had to slow to watch him with bated breath for what he was going to say to that. "Barry is pretty on the inside. That's what I saw."
Barry felt like he was ready to melt with feelings from Oliver's words. Here he was riding his lover's cock with Laurel watching them and he said such sappy things that it made Barry want to cry and return all the praises. But Barry was gagged and Laurel was in charge, so there was nothing he could really do.
"That's amazing." Laurel sounded serious - neither teasing nor demanding, but actually honest. Her demeanour flipped back to where it belonged right now almost instantly though, and she smirked at Barry as she gave Oliver his next instructions. "Show him, Ollie. Worship him."
A particularly cruel order, considering how she tied Oliver up. But Oliver still made a valiant attempt by rolling up his hips, sharp little thrusts to counter Barry's movements and drawing short gasps out of him. Barry truly wanted to lay down and kiss Oliver, but neither did he have permission nor the ability, with the gag.
Laurel kept stroking Oliver's hair, watching them intently with soft encouragements here and there, but she did nothing to intervene or join. It was confusing but arousing, just having her watch while Barry bounced on Oliver's cock, his pace picking up the closer he was getting to his peak. His hands were twitching to take himself in hand, and he nearly did once before managing to quickly change course and plant his hands on Oliver's stomach for balance instead.
"You can touch yourself, if you want," Laurel encouraged, smiling even more impishly than before. "As long as you keep riding him like the good boy you are. It's not like Oliver is going to cum any time soon, is he?"
Oliver's moan was positively pained, and it drove Barry to ride him faster, finally wrapping a hand around his own erection to stroke himself to his end in a hurry. It was easy to reach - he was embarrassingly fast since becoming a speedster - especially considering he'd been riding Oliver's thick cock for a while now, and he was just a beat too late realising he might need permission to cum at all.
The idea of crossing Laurel was not enough to stop him, and he arched his back with a loud moan that was barely muffled by the gag, spilling in thick spurts all over Oliver's belly and chest. Oliver jerked under him, affected by the clenching of Barry's body around him and the hot splatter of seed on his skin, but the cock ring was not going to let him get anywhere himself.
Barry's movements slowed, his breathing heavy and laboured by the gag now, and he stilled on Oliver's cock when it all became too much. Too little air, too sensitive, too-
"I do believe I told you you couldn't stop, didn't I?"
Barry's head shot up sharply, wide eyes at Laurel who had one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised in question. He whimpered, but was unable to explain himself with the gag in place.
"Come on, keep going. Don't make me come there and punish you, Barry." The hand she didn't have rubbing over Oliver's scalp slid over the bedsheets to find the cane left there. Barry's eyes widened in the realisation that that cane was a threat, and he quickly started to move again, wincing at hos sensitive he was now to the drag of Oliver's hard cock inside of him.
"That's better," she cooed, giving him an approving nod and releasing the grip of the cane. Instead, her fingers brushed over the plug there though, and she gave it a look of delight. "Oh! I forgot all about this one! Oh, we can't have that now, can we?"
While Barry gingerly kept moving as instructed, she sat up to her knees to scoot over to him with the plug. She had grabbed the lube and added a generous helping to Oliver's cock when Barry lifted himself, the cold of the gel making them both shudder, but Barry was quite grateful for it anyway. He watched with some worry as she slicked up the plug, craning his neck when she came around him, and he was only a little ashamed at the relief he felt when she lifted one of Oliver's legs rather than trying to work that plug into him alongside of Oliver's cock. This was the most logical choice but Barry couldn't help but worry regardless, seeing as he had never seen Oliver encourage any touching to his own hole before.
It also explained why the plug wasn't all that big, not being meant for the one who happily took a pounding from Oliver's rather well endowed dick on a regular basis.
All of Oliver's muscles tightened up so quickly Barry felt for a moment like he was sitting on actual wood. Laurel hushed him from behind Barry's back, and Barry could sense her patting Oliver's thigh until he slowly, very slowly, started to relax his muscles one by one again.
"That's a good boy, that's right Ollie," she cooed from behind. "Just relax, just feel it. This tiny plug won't hurt you, it will just give that little bit of extra pressure. It's good, isn't it, Ollie?"
Oliver groaned, but it actually sounded like a positive response. Barry was mesmerised by the idea alone. Maybe he would dare to bring up the idea of a plug for Oliver again at a later date.
For now, it served rather well as a distraction for Barry. His movements were slow now, but he was distracted enough to not be bothered by his post-orgasm sensitivity or the slowly building ache in his thighs. He kept going, steadily riding his lover that was slowly easing back down on the bed, not quite back to fucking up into Barry again but clearly getting there. The scrunched up look of discomfort was fading from Oliver's face, the flush on his face leaving him looking just needy now.
"You are quite perfect like this!" Laurel smacked Barry's arse and he gave a sharp yelp of surprise around the gag, eyes wide as they followed her crawling back around to Oliver's head. But she didn't settle next to him this time. Instead she wriggled out of her panties and straddled Oliver's face, lowering herself until she was practically sitting on him. She gave a contented sigh at the heat of Oliver's skin against her, and Barry whimpered when he saw Oliver's tongue flick out against her.
"There… that's a good boy," she hummed, relaxing where she sat with a dreamy look on her face. "Eat me out real good and I'll let you cum too."
Barry increased his pace, whimpering slightly, but the over-sensitivity was fading. Oliver's cock was hard and pulsing inside of him and Barry needed more. Now that he was watching Oliver eat Laurel out with her literally sitting on his face, he got needy again, his complete lack of refractory period betraying him for the stab of arousal.
The moans coming from Laurel were outright filthy, encouraging Barry to become louder himself. Oliver could only grunt from where his face was pressed into her crotch, but it was enough for Barry to be able to make out the sounds of him. And each grunt, each moan pulled from Oliver, made Barry bounce a little harder. Each time Laurel arched and moaned and then reached up to dip fingers into her corset from above, no doubt to pinch a nipple- Barry couldn't stop himself, his orgasm taking him by surprise as he gasped and shouted around the gag, hips thrusting hard up into the air. It was only by a miracle that he didn't move so far that he'd lose Oliver's cock from his hole and risk Laurel's anger.
He whimpered as he came down from his high, eyes flickering up to Laurel's face to wordlessly beg her to let him stop. But she wasn't giving him anything, just a heated look that spoke of more and he felt himself forced to keep going, whimpering and moaning all over again.
Now his thighs were definitely hurting from the extended period of riding Oliver's cock.
The only relief was that he suddenly felt Laurel's hand on his cheek, and he was already leaning into the touch before even realising she had leaned over to him first. He would've met her for a kiss if not for the gag; instead she kissed his cheek chastely - a ridiculous notion considering he was riding Oliver's cock and she his face - and then started to kiss and lick her way down his jaw to his neck. His heavy breathing hitched at the sharp sting of her teeth biting him there, his head tilting to the side to welcome her attentions.
"Keep going," she ordered against his skin when he slowed further to avoid knocking her teeth out or something as he moved. He sucked in a deep breath and picked up his pace, ignoring all aches to roll his hips faster, to bounce faster, to ride faster. Laurel made a sound of approval against his neck, biting and sucking several hickeys in a line from the nape of his neck to where his shoulder got too bony.
She was noticeably sloppier by the time she got there and pulled away, holding on to Barry's shoulders as she started to grind down on Oliver's face.
"Oh god, Ollie, that's it keep going…"
Barry watched her with wide eyes, now more focused on her pleasure than what he was doing anymore. Her head tipped back and she moaned obscenely, and next she had one hand down behind her to - presumably - try to grab Oliver's hair and holding him still why she cried out on shuttering gasps.
She was beautiful in her orgasm, and Barry didn't even notice speeding up his movements as he watched her peak so brilliantly.
He wasn't aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks either, not until she stopped moving and her eyes met his, her face softening and her fingers coming up to wipe salty tears away.
"You've had enough," she decided, panting. "You've been so good for me, Barry."
Barry whimpered, leaning forward at her indication to, allowing his face to rest on her shoulder while she unclasped the strap of the gag behind his head. He kept moving, more awkward but no less fast, no less intense, but tried to keep his head as still as he could while she released him from the gag. When she pulled it out and away to drop it on the bed he was panting heavily, stretching his jaw to ease the ache.
She pushed him off of her, upright again, and moved off Oliver's face. Barry whimpered at what she left behind, Oliver's face flushed bright red and wet from her juices, his eyes closed and his expression peaceful, considering how hard Barry was still riding him and him being the only one who hadn't gotten to finish yet.
That last part was soon resolved when Laurel leaned over, sliding up the cockring and keeping him stable so Barry could lift up enough for her to take the ring off and immediately sitting back down just as eagerly. It was all a pleasantly painful ache by now and he whimpered once more, not finding his words anymore despite the removal of the gag, just wanting to cum.
"One last time, Barry," Laurel encouraged. "You can both cum now. One more time."
Barry was all but sobbing and Oliver was writhing on the bed, the peaceful look disappearing completely for pure need as his started to buck his hips into Barry, chasing after the orgasm that had been denied for all this time. Barry cried out loudly as he came for that last time, feeling Oliver jerk as he peaked as well, spilling inside of him while Barry added the last spurts of his mess on Oliver's chest.
"So good, my boys," Laurel cooed, leaning in to kiss Barry's cheeks, licking the tears away. "I'm so proud of you. You're such a good boy Barry, such a good boy."
He was crying for her now, not for the ache in his thighs or the wrung dry feeling after forcing three orgasms in such short succession. He was just crying as she wrapped her arms around him, letting him rest his face against his shoulder while his fingers tried to find a hold on the leather of her corset.
"So proud," she repeated, her words falling to sweet little nothings as she lead him off Oliver's cock and down beside him on the bed. She gently kissed his lips and then rolled him to curl against Oliver's side. Barry clutched to Oliver immediately, wrapping around him as much as he could, leaving Laurel's hands free to undo the ropes that were still keeping Oliver in place.
As soon as Oliver could move he had his arms wrapped around Barry, pulling him half on top of his chest in his need for them to be flush together. Laurel left with a giggle to get them a washcloth and clean them up, thankfully fully aware of how she had wore them both out. She gently removed the plug from Oliver's arse and tried to leave them afterwards, but Barry glanced up at her to give her a pleading look.
They were his first words in what felt like forever, and he knew Oliver was backing him up with exactly the same look at Laurel as he was giving her. She visibly faltered, hesitating for a moment before smiling.
"Fine. Let me just take these off and I'll find one of Ollie's shirts to wear to bed, and I'll be right with you."
Barry hummed gratefully while burying back into Oliver, clinging as close as his lover was to him.
Laurel joined them about ten minutes later, and she was drawn in much like Barry was, halfway on top of Oliver from his other side. Barry sighed contently and he felt the remaining tension bleeding from Oliver's form.
"Thank you, Laurel," Oliver said softly.
"Thank you," Barry echoed sleepily, burrowing into the hug a little further.
"Any time," she returned fondly. "For you two? Any time."