Divine Solace: 8 (16 page)

Gen shook her head. “A little experimenting in high school.
The usual stuff. Mostly fantasy, though.”

“Did you ever think about taking it past the fantasy stage?”

“Right now.” Gen’s throat was dry. “A lot.”

Lyda’s expression was capable of making Gen’s cunt suck
harder on her hand. She wanted that mouth on her. Her fingers tightened on
Lyda’s shoulder, her body yearning forward.

The woman made a pleased murmur. “You’re hot for it right now,
that’s for certain. When you were fantasizing about it before, did you think
about taking it further then?”

“No. I kept it at fantasies. I figured that was normal for
most straight women.”

“Straight and gay are relative terms on a normal day, but
especially when it comes to Dominant and submissive behavior.” Lyda took her
hand away from Gen’s hip to slip another several hooks. It opened the corset
enough that she could fold it back, the stiff cloth holding it in that position
to reveal a full, blue-veined, pale-skinned breast with a deep-mauve areola and
nipple.

“Would you like to put your mouth on me here, Gen?”

Gen’s mouth was too dry to swallow. Lyda gave her a sharper
look. “For some things, I’ll take a nonverbal response. Not for this. Ask me
for what you want.”

“I want to suck…put my mouth on you. Please.”

Lyda’s eyes glittered, her mouth firming. “Already jumping
ahead in your mind, aren’t you? You’re going to need to be on your knees,
aren’t you?”

They weakened immediately, her body already telling her it
wasn’t going to listen to any rational arguments against this.

Lyda slid her hand free and used both hands to ease Gen back
and down to her knees, widening her own to give her the ability to shift
closer. “Hands still at your sides,” she reminded her. “Mouth only. And get rid
of the panties.”

Gen bit back a protest, because her fingers were itching to
touch Lyda’s curves. But the denial added a sweet bolt of longing to her core.
As expected, Gen couldn’t remove her underwear as smoothly in a kneeling
position as Noah, but she managed it under that molten stare, setting them
aside. When she moistened her lips, anticipating what would happen next, Lyda
didn’t make her wait long.

Cupping Gen’s head, Lyda brought her forward again, her
other arm sliding around her shoulders, gathering her in. “Put your mouth on
me, Gen. Suck my nipple. Show me if you know how to give me pleasure.”

Gen parted her lips. She was barely breathing as she made
contact. It felt the way her own nipple felt, crinkled roughness and soft both.
She explored, sliding her tongue around it, then opened her mouth wider,
wanting to taste the pale flesh beyond. She traced several of those blue veins
with her tongue, then returned to the nipple and took a stronger suck on it.
Lyda made a noise…pleasure. She was giving a Mistress pleasure. Her Mistress,
for tonight.

Lyda molded her hand over the back of Gen’s skull. Gen
wanted to put both her arms around Lyda’s waist and hips. Wanted to let her
fingers slide over latex and feel just how tight it was molded to Lyda’s ass.
She couldn’t be wearing anything under it.

Her hands had moved before she realized it. Lyda closed her
hands around her wrists and spoke. “Noah.”

Gen hadn’t heard him come in, but his hands were on her
shoulders, sliding down her biceps, drawing her arms back. He held her by the
elbows with gentle strength, kneeling behind her as Gen continued to suckle
Lyda’s right breast. His rigid cock pressed against her buttock, the inside of
his thigh against her hip. Her elbows brushed his upper abdomen. His scent
mingled with Lyda’s, and Gen had that curious sense of being surrounded by both
of them again, in a very good way.

She also noticed being restrained increased her fervency, as
if she was trying to prove she could give Lyda more pleasure if she gave her
more freedom. Lyda’s knee pressed against her other side. However, she threaded
her other leg between Gen’s and probably Noah’s behind her. At first the leg
was straight so it made no contact, but then Lyda bent it so her thigh pressed
against Gen’s cunt beneath the dress. Gen moaned outright this time, her lips
against Lyda’s flesh. Lyda’s fingers tangled in her hair, tugging at her scalp
in a rhythm that matched the flex of her leg muscles, both suggesting lovely,
rocking sex.

She thought about what would happen if Lyda pushed Gen’s
face down between her legs, let her pleasure her cunt beneath the tight hold of
the latex. Gen’s pussy convulsed at the thought, the reaction turning into
thick liquid rolling down her thigh. It would pool against Lyda’s leg, dampen
the latex.

“Ease back now. There you go.” Lyda broke the contact, nails
whispering against Gen’s throat before she pushed her back into Noah’s embrace.
He slid his hands around Gen’s waist, bringing her full against him, both of
them facing Lyda.

She gazed up at Lyda, who’d risen and circled behind the
couch. She folded the corset back in place, but she didn’t rehook it. “I’m
going to go get changed. Then I want to do a little pre-bedtime reading. Noah,
feed Gen her snack. Afterward, I want the two of you lying on the floor there.”

She pointed one elegant finger toward the rug laid out
before the fireplace. The fire screen was stained glass, showing a tulip
against multi-colored green shards. “Legs scissored together, both of you on
your sides. Get comfortable, because I won’t be permitting you any movement
until I command it. I’ll be back in a moment.”

She disappeared down a hallway. Noah shifted next to Gen,
putting his back against the sofa. When she collected herself enough to drag
her gaze from the hallway, he was studying her unbound breasts beneath the
filmy dress fabric.

“I like this look,” he said.

Rallying, Gen gave his naked body a similar once over. “Same
goes.”

He was beautiful, all firm muscle and tanned skin. And he
had a really nice cock, thick and ready to perform, the testicles a dark-plum
color beneath. Her fingers got that itchy feeling again, wanting to cup and
stroke. It was pretty clear the conditions tonight were not the same as when
he’d been at her house. But did that restrain her? The rules were only there if
she chose to accept them. If she didn’t, then…

She walked her fingers up the inside of his thigh. He
watched her, those dark eyes not discouraging her, but not encouraging either.
He was letting her figure it out. His cock jumped, though, telling her she had
its vote. Curling her fingers around the shaft, she pressed a thumb over the
slit, feeling the arousal there. She brought that fluid to her lips, tasted
him.

“Let’s get you fed,” he said. She was happy to hear an
unsteady note in his voice.

She noticed then he’d placed a plate on the coffee table
behind her. It contained a sandwich and chips. Next to it was a glass of soda,
as well as a glass of water. He’d quartered the sandwich. Picking up a piece,
he extended it toward her mouth.

Gen drew back, settling on her heels. “I can feed myself.”

“She said to feed you.” He cocked his head, his hair sliding
forward over his shoulder. “It helps to stay in the zone, so to speak. If
that’s where you’d like to be.”

“They immerse you in the commands, make you rely on their
direction, and brainwash you so it’s all about pleasure, not questions.”

Noah didn’t seem offended. If anything, he seemed to ponder
it. “It’s not really brainwashing. Wouldn’t most of us like a safe way to leave
all questions behind, not have to worry about anything, and just feel pleasure?
In a good way?” He met her gaze. “It’s all a choice. If you prefer to feed
yourself, you can do that.”

Gen looked at the quartered sandwich in his hand, the rest
on the plate. It was one thing to follow sexual commands. But being fed like a
child…it didn’t appeal to her.

“Can I try something different?”

“You can do anything you want,” he responded with that smile
that made her want to do all sorts of things to him.

Taking the sandwich from his hand, she offered it to him. He
took a bite, keeping his eyes on hers as he chewed, swallowed. She had to
admit, it gave her a peculiar thrill, having him accept the food from her hand.
She took a bite of the sandwich for herself and then did it again, choosing to
alternate between feeding him and herself. She handed the next quarter of the
sandwich to him. “Okay, I’ll give it a try.”

It was arousing, though not for the reason she expected.
From the first bite she took from Noah’s hand, she saw what Lyda had pointed
out. He did enjoy this, in a way that could be mistaken for how a Domme like
Lyda would enjoy it. His eyes darkened, facial muscles tightening, his entire
focus on how she took food from his hand. He became even more intent when her
lips and tongue teased his fingertips.

She shifted onto her knees and put her hand on his thigh,
gripping it with needy fingers there as he fed her the next bite. He lifted the
water glass, guided the straw between her lips. When she was done drinking, her
lips were wet and cool. He leaned forward, tasted them, a sliding type of kiss
that didn’t linger. Yet his eyes glinted as if they’d committed a playful
infraction, coconspirators.

Losing her earlier reservations, she ate every bite from his
hand. Licking the oil left on his fingers by the chips allowed her to bring up
both hands to cup his. She followed the creases of his palm, nipping at the
base of his fingers, pleased at how they caressed her face as she did it. His
cock jerked, responding to the stimulation, but she gave him credit for keeping
his attention on the charge Lyda had given him, as immersed in the pleasure of
it as Gen.

At length, though, he pushed the plate away and scooped her
up, bringing them both to their feet. He took her hand. “Ready to do the
scissor thing?” he asked.

“Maybe. If you tell me what that means.”

“Easier to show you.”

She gave him a narrow look. “I’m sensing ulterior motives.”

He chuckled, but drew her to the rug, an ultra-soft throw
meant to feel like animal fur but wasn’t. Kneeling, he drew her down with him
and stretched out on one hip, propping up his head with a bent arm and hand
braced in front of him.

“Okay, lie down with your head at my feet and body stretched
out in front of me so your feet are here.” He patted the spot in front of his
chest, accurately gauging the difference in their heights. “Just think erotic
Twister.”

That made her smile, which she was sure he intended, since
she was feeling nervous again. When she complied, he adjusted her so she was
turned mostly on her stomach, helping keep her comfortable as he adjusted their
legs into a scissor lock. As he gripped her hips and eased the core of their
bodies closer together, she realized only a few inches separated her pussy from
his testicles. She expected “flush” meant closing those few inches.

He met her gaze, making sure of her state of mind as he made
the intimate contact. Her thigh muscles twitched against his, an outward
reaction to her inner one, feeling the weight of his balls press against her
labia in such a careful, planned way, where the body wanted to move but the
mind held it still. Looking down their bodies, she saw his cock hard against
his belly.

“No movement now,” he said. “Pillow your head on your folded
arms. It’s more comfortable that way.” Since he was still on his hip, he folded
one arm beneath his head, his palm pressed against the rug, holding them steady
as much as was needed.

Lyda was moving around in the kitchen. Gen heard the
microwave going. Perhaps she drank tea with her evening reading. Gen could feel
the pulse in his scrotum, matched by the beat in her own cunt. What had seemed
like an odd, maybe even silly position—erotic Twister indeed—was apparently up
there in the list of erotic torture methods. Her breathing was shallow, her
nipples tight against the rug through the thin dress. She wanted to move,
wanted to rub against him. Why shouldn’t she?

Because Lyda had said they were to remain still. Unlike
small infractions like Gen touching Noah’s cock, which hadn’t been directly
proscribed, Gen sensed deliberately going against something Lyda ordered would
be disrespectful, like putting one’s feet up on someone’s coffee table when
invited to a luncheon. Gen had choices, yes, but in this case she suspected she
only had two approved ones. Stay in this position or back away from Noah and
decide not to do this. Period.

Lyda reentered in a thin silk robe, one that stopped
mid-thigh and showed enough provocative movement of her breasts beneath the
overlapped lapels, a flash of thigh as she moved, to suggest she wore nothing
under it. She carried a book and a teacup, the tag fluttering over the edge.
Setting them on the side table next to a wing-backed chair close to the rug,
Lyda moved to the mantle and uncovered a metronome. “These are very useful for
taking things slow. Did you think I wouldn’t know about that kiss, Noah?”

She didn’t turn as she said it. Gen realized Lyda must have
lingered to watch their mutual feeding from an unseen position.

“No Mistress.” Noah didn’t look disturbed, but he wasn’t
rebellious about it. His gaze was fixed on everything Lyda was doing, his body
tight and aroused in its locked position against Gen. She found herself caught
in the same thickening atmosphere, her heartbeat accelerating.

“I’ll address that later. For now…” Lyda set the metronome
ticking in a steady rhythm. Turning, her gaze covered Noah’s naked body and
Gen’s, still in her dress. The skirt was rucked up so high from their position,
Gen knew her ass was peeking out of the bottom, revealing the pink curves.
Lyda’s look of pure pleasure confirmed it.

From the pocket of her robe, she produced two scraps of
cloth Gen realized were blindfolds. She squatted before Noah first, while Gen
was thinking,
oh no, I don’t think so.
Before Lyda put it on him, Noah
caught her wrist. They locked gazes, Lyda giving him a cool stare. “Let go of
me, Noah.”