Noah started to speak. “One more word out of you,” Lyda said, “and you’ll be gagged. Suck it up.”
Gen saw his jaw flex, the flash in the dark eyes. She wondered what he’d do if he was loose. It was a shivery thought.
Stepping up on the stool, she started to slide her arms over Noah’s shoulders. Lyda stopped her.
“Under his arms, Gen. I don’t want you cutting off his air and not realizing it. He’d let you strangle him if he thought it would interrupt your pleasure or mine. Dumbass.”
Noah started to retort to that, and Gen dug her nails in, not wanting him and Lyda to engage again. “Fun and pleasure,” she whispered.
He subsided with a grunt and she adjusted her arms as Lyda had directed, banding them around Noah’s chest, the widest part right under his armpits. She stroked his chest hair as she overlapped her forearms. With the way the boots were positioned in relation to the frame, his upper body was tilted forward, allowing her to lean. She wasn’t sure how much of her weight to rest against him. She also wasn’t sure if Lyda wanted her to have that full contact. Those questions were quickly answered.
Lyda drew closer and rolled the flogger down Gen’s thigh. Gen made a startled noise when Lyda pressed the rounded handle between her buttocks, pushing the silky fabric of her panties against her anus. Lyda rotated the handle, stimulating her rim through that thin barrier. Gen squirmed against Noah, arms constricting over his chest.
“You like having your ass played with. That’s good. Are you a virgin here?”
No. But she might as well be. The experience hadn’t been pleasant. She knew it was all the norm, even for teenagers these days, but it hadn’t been as popular when she’d started dating, and only one husband had wanted to do it.
Lyda gripped her hair, pulled her head back. “I asked you a question.”
“No, ma’am. Once.” She wondered if she should say she didn’t want to do it, that she hadn’t enjoyed it, but maybe it would be different with Lyda. Just the whip’s touch had set off an explosion of sensation she hadn’t experienced during anal play before.
“All right.” Lyda released her hair, removed the prodding touch of the whip. “Take your legs off the stool, wrap them over his knees. Brace your heels on the lip of the metal boots. Like you’re riding him piggyback, only a little more spread out. Don’t worry about his back or legs. He’s strong as an ox, but I’ll know when it’s time for you to move off him.”
There was a smooth curved lip to the front of the boots, wide enough to make the position tenable, maybe even designed for that or other restraint options. As she complied, Lyda tucked the flogger under her arm and cupped a strap under Gen’s ass. Threading the ends between Gen’s thighs and Noah’s, Lyda wrapped it around him so when she buckled it, it cinched Gen’s mound against the top of his buttocks. The seam between put friction on her clit, making her squirm the small amount the strap allowed.
Smack!
Lyda stung her ass with her palm. “You’ll be moving soon enough, dancing from the whip.”
She put a set of cuffs on Gen then, so her arms were locked together over Noah’s chest. Lyda slid her hand between his back and Gen’s front. The nonverbal cue had Gen hollowing her back so the woman could caress Gen’s breast. She gave her nipple a quick flick before she descended, following the line of Noah’s lower back and hips, her knuckles gliding along Gen’s skin. Her body yearned toward more of that touch. However, when Lyda shifted, followed that same track to his shoulders, Gen realized she was gauging the stress on his joints and muscles.
“I’ll think you’ll be good for as long as she’ll be able to take it.” Lyda disappeared from view with a deliberate tap-tap of her boots. Gen wondered if she’d made a mistake. The woman could single-handedly unload young trees from her truck, root ball and all.
“Breathe,” Noah rumbled. “Accept the pain. Don’t tense. It works better that way.”
He let out an oath, and Gen jumped at the pop, realizing only after the fact it hadn’t touched her. Whatever Lyda had used had licked up between Noah’s spread legs and sent an admonishing sting to his testicles. The passage of air beneath her own spread legs, as well as his flinch, told her the target. It also reminded her how vulnerable her own genitals were to such a strike.
“I can gag you or give you one of those every time you talk out of turn, Noah. Which will it be?” Lyda’s voice was scary pleasant.
“The lash, Mistress,” he gritted out.
She tsked. “Exactly why it should be the gag. But I’m in a benevolent mood.”
When he let out a fierce, whispered curse at the next one, Gen squeezed him. “Sshhh,” she said. “Don’t talk.”
“As I said, subs do tend to try to protect one another, even as they crave the pain. I’ll let you use the softer flogger on him later, Gen, but here’s a taste of it.”
When the blow from the flogger landed, Gen had tensed, she couldn’t help it. Though it stung a bit, it wasn’t bad. It was almost pleasurable, the stimulation of the wide straps licking at her buttocks, her back, falling away from between her shoulder blades like a stroke from Lyda’s hand.
When Noah shifted, the teasing friction from the seam of his buttocks made Gen tighten her legs, bear down to get more of that sensation against her clit.
“I like that. Let me see that ass wiggle when I hit you. It makes my pussy cream. I might let my pets take turns lapping it up later.”
God. Gen squirmed even more at that, dancing under the flogger, just as Lyda had predicted. Her buttocks and thighs started to heat up and tingle. She let out a little noise as Lyda let the flogger lick up between her legs once or twice, hitting Noah’s buttocks a glancing blow. Then she paused.
“Now you get his punishment, Gen. Next time you try to step between us, you remember what you’re taking on.”
Her skin was already tenderized from the other flogger. Lyda had wanted a little-girl squeal. She got one, within three strikes. Gen yelped, fingers digging into Noah. He had his head down, his whole body rigid against hers, as if he were fighting an invisible foe, but she wondered if he was nevertheless hard, imagining taking the lash instead.
She had some of that going on as well. Even though this pain was more than she’d expected, her mind warred between wanting Lyda to stop and wanting more of it.
The next strike was with the gentler flogger, only Lyda brought it straight up between Gen’s spread legs. The tips struck her pussy. She writhed at the sensation, tightening her thighs over his hips, feeling the grind of his ass beneath her upper thighs. Then came the more painful one, a sharper blow this time. Gen’s head snapped back, then pressed forward, jaw wedged between Noah’s shoulder and jaw as several blows fell in succession, bringing the pain to a level that took everything else away. Lyda then started to alternate between back, ass, pussy, thighs…
“Stop, stop…” She was gasping, everything vibrating. Lyda paused. Her fingers touched Gen’s back. Gen shivered as her nails scraped her flesh.
“Nice red lines. They usually take about a day to go away. I have a shirt that’s all mesh in the back. I might make you wear it tomorrow so Marguerite will see those marks. She’ll want to touch them. We can’t help ourselves. Do you want more, Gen?”
Gen moaned as Lyda leaned against her, cupping Gen’s buttock, and then lower, to do the same to Noah’s, obviously enjoying her ability to play with both of them.
“Yes.” She couldn’t believe she said it, because those last ones had really hurt. But in the aftermath, she had a craving to feel it again. “More.”
“That sounded like a demand. Ask properly.”
“Please. Mistress.”
“Better.” A quick stroke of her hair, then Lyda’s knuckles grazed her buttock. “If you want me to stop, use your safeword, Gen. ‘Stop’ isn’t it.”
She should have used it, the very next stripe. Those thin straps felt like they were slicing furrows into her flesh. But she imagined carrying Lyda’s marks, imagined Marguerite�
�s gaze on them, those cool fingertips sliding over them, acknowledging another Mistress’s work. And she felt Noah’s body shifting beneath her, all those lovely muscles. She thought about what Lyda had said, that Gen would be fucking him tonight, feeling his ass flex against her pelvis…
A scream tore from her throat at the next one. God, the woman had to be drawing blood. She felt like the center of Lyda’s universe, every touch, painful or not, building the bond between them.
“Diamonds,” Noah snapped. “Mistress.”
“A miracle,” Lyda said. Gen was panting. While Lyda might not be drawing blood, Gen thought she might be, her fingers digging into Noah’s chest. “The first time he’s ever used it,” his Mistress said. “But he used it for you. Which is good, because you’ve never chosen a safeword, Gen. You didn’t even think about that, did you? It’s why a Domme can’t trust a sub to use a safeword, though you should always have one.”
Gen had her head on Noah’s shoulder. She couldn’t speak yet, her mind whirling at the idea that she’d taken such a beating and still wanted more. When Lyda touched her hair, she closed her eyes. The woman brushed a kiss on her temple. “You’ve learned to take pain, no matter how bad it gets. You endure, don’t you, rabbit?”
She realized she was shaking. This wasn’t aroused trembling, but something emotional that had dislodged and was bouncing around loose. Lyda made a soothing sound. Her hand slid down Gen’s spine, trailing between her buttocks. Gen’s eyes opened, her legs jerking but unable to close as Lyda slid the whip handle into her soaked pussy. Slow, pumping the shaft like a man’s cock. When Noah jumped, hips thrusting forward, Gen suspected Lyda had slid the other whip handle into him. Imagining Lyda impaling them both, working the two whip handles in their overlapped bodies, had her body’s shakes turning into different kind of spasms.
“When you were fucked in the ass, Gen, did you enjoy it?”
“No.”
Guy had pushed her face into the pillows, nearly suffocating her and making her neck hurt as he tried trying to adjust himself at the right angle, forcing it until she had to complain, ask him to take it slower. He did, but it still burned, and she bled afterward.
“So he did it wrong.” Lyda touched Gen’s lips. “Suck my finger. Get it wet.”
Gen parted her lips. Lyda watched her suck on the digit, her absorbed expression whetting Gen’s response. “Keep holding that whip handle in you, Noah,” the Mistress said absently. “You let it drop, Gen will be wearing a much bigger dick to fuck you.”
She gave Gen a feminine look of conspiracy as Noah bucked, a groan coming from his lips. “When I tell him to clench those lovely ass muscles, it makes it more pleasurable inside. Tsk, tsk. Leaking into that rubber, aren’t you? Every drop of that belongs to me. You hold it in until I give you permission.”
“Yes Mistress.” He spoke through gritted teeth as Lyda withdrew her finger from Gen’s mouth. Sliding her dry fingers down the valley of Gen’s spine, she probed between her buttocks with the wet one. The quivering of her body, the way she felt inside and out, was wild, desperate. It was obvious Lyda liked that. “No clenching against me, baby girl. Let it in. There…we go.”
Gen let out a surprised breath as Lyda’s finger slid through the rings of muscle, moving in a way that produced an intense spiral of interest from Gen’s nerve endings. “You have a fine, tight little hole. Some night when you’ve been a bad little girl, I might let Noah give you an ass fucking. There’s an untamed beast inside him. But you know that, don’t you? Would you like to see more of that?”
So Lyda knew about those precious five minutes in the kitchen, when Noah’s power and ferocity had taken Gen over so that she’d nearly lost herself in it. “I’d like to see any side of him. Ah…”
Lyda had hooked her fingers back around the whip handle she had inside Gen’s pussy and was working that at the same time she was working the finger in her anus. “Keep clenching on that handle for me, Noah. I want your muscles milking it like you’ll be doing when Gen’s fucking you.”
“Yes Mistress.” Noah’s voice still had that strangled quality. Gen pressed her cheek hard against his back, fighting her own growing response. She was rubbing herself against his buttocks. The two whip handles knocked against each other. She could feel the impact as they made contact, the wide and thin straps brushing their legs.
“Stop moving, now. Both of you.” They stilled, bound to Lyda’s every wish. She removed both whip handles, a sensual pull out of Gen’s engorged tissues. Lyda’s finger came out of her anus with a teasing stroke of her rim. Setting the whips aside, Lyda released Gen’s bonds and eased her off Noah’s back. She’d pulled over one of the nearby chairs, and lowered Gen’s shaking body into it. The first pressure of the vinyl seat on her aroused pussy caused a whimper. Lyda pressed her down fully, so the stripes she’d left on Gen’s flesh were against the firm surface of seat and back, the flash of discomfort balancing the crazy need to rub against the chair, against anything.
“Feet flat on the floor, back against the chair, like a proper schoolgirl. I need to wash my hands and then we’ll get to the next part.”
Noah remained in his bound position, head down, shoulders rising and falling. Lyda had put her directly behind him, so Gen couldn’t see how thick his cock was, but if his arousal was as intense as hers…it made her shudder, thinking of him thrusting into her, stretching her. His buttocks flexed again as he shifted in the boots.
Each cubicle had a small sink unit. Lyda washed her hands, then examined the selection of strap-ons on the wall. “There’s a pink one,” she said, with amusement. “Bright, girly, princess pink. It adds the extra dose of humiliation to the man whose ass you’re fucking. But we’re not about humiliation, are we, Noah?”
“No Mistress.” His back vibrated, odd little shivers, his head still down. Gen looked toward Lyda. Despite her apparent focus on the strap-ons, the Mistress had an eye trained on the male as well. On them both. Gen lifted a questioning brow and mouthed Is he okay?
Lyda tilted her head left to right, a sort of kind of answer. A serious look to her eyes, she gestured to Gen, letting her know she could go to him. Though she was still riding that intense arousal, her knees were steadier now. Gen rose, circled in front of him. His body shadowed her in its angled position like a leaning tree, his arms the spread branches. When she touched his chest, his eyes opened. She thought she saw anger, arousal, fear, a deep hurricane of feeling that couldn’t be separated or described. Or answered with words. She put her fingers on his mouth, and he kissed her fingers.
“Turn around,” he said.
Realizing what he wanted to see, she pivoted, looked over her shoulder at him. “It’s okay,” she said. “It felt…good. And bad.”
“Yeah.” He studied the marks. “Step back? Close enough I can touch them.”
She wasn’t sure how he could do that with his hands bound, but he pulled against the hold of the wrist cuffs, managing to reach her shoulder with his lips. The resulting sensation activated the nerves between the mark under his mouth and the ache of the closest stripes like the strands of a charged web. “I’ll kiss every one of them if you want,” he said.
“Afterward.” She turned to face him. A whirl of feeling rose at his tender gesture. It evoked similar ones in her. It also somehow connected to a sudden deep urge to do exactly what Lyda was going to allow her to do. She wanted to fuck him the way a man would.
* * * * *
Gen trailed her hand along his side, leaving him with the caress. Lyda was leaning against the wall, waiting on her. Moving across the room in her heels and sexy underwear, Gen didn’t stop until she stood in front of Lyda. She stayed that way, letting Lyda look her fill, waiting for what she’d command. The Mistress nodded, tacit approval. “Take off the panties.”
Gen stepped out of them without hesitation. She realized she’d stopped thinking about anyone on the mezzanine, and she was only vaguely aware of the voices and music outside the cubicle. Yes, there were p
lenty of naked people here, but it was more than that. This was a fixed spot in the universe, the only one that mattered.
Taking the panties, Lyda tossed them onto the pile of Gen’s clothes on the chair. Then she lifted a flesh-colored strap-on from the wall and fitted it over Gen’s hips and between her thighs. As efficient as a horsewoman saddling her mount, Lyda cinched it up against Gen’s clit, closing the distance between flesh and rubber. Then she adjusted the straps at the waist and those threaded between and around Gen’s thighs. When she was done, Lyda was behind Gen. She slid a finger back into Gen’s pussy, putting her other hand on Gen’s shoulder to hold her steady. Gen made a needy noise, her fingers clenching.
“Making sure there’s still room for me,” Lyda said, sliding free to pinch her ass. “Walk around in it. Feel the way it moves. Get used to it, think about where you’re going to be putting it. Let him see you in it. And let’s get rid of this.” Unhooking Gen’s bra, she slid it down her arms, and added it to the rest of the clothes. Sliding an arm around Gen’s waist, she guided her to an angle where Noah could turn his head and see them.
His eyes latched onto the strap-on, then moved up. Lyda stood behind her, one arm looped around Gen’s waist, her other hand sliding up to cup her bare breast, pinch a nipple as Gen leaned against her.
Lyda pushed her hair aside with her jaw, kissed her neck. “So beautiful,” she said against Gen’s skin. “The two of you. I can’t get enough.”
Gen had no will of her own, but she’d never been in a situation where it mattered so little. Everything Lyda did to her was something she wanted, and she was eager to see what she would do next. She didn’t have long to wait.
“Hold out your palm,” Lyda ordered.
When Gen complied, Lyda produced a tube of lube. She squirted a generous dollop of the warm, slick gel in Gen’s palm. “Rub it on your cock, Gen. You’re getting ready to fuck him. You want to go in easy and deep. Watch his eyes as you do it. Think about how you’d put the lube on his cock.”
Nature of Desire 8 - Divine solace Page 24
