Divine Solace: 8 (28 page)

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 plenty 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.”

Gen curled her fingers around the phallus. It was a good
size, thick and hard like Noah’s cock, encased in latex. She could tell the
inside of his condom was already streaked with his pre-cum. Though technically
she wasn’t stroking herself, it felt amazing, her pussy tingling under the
pressure she put against her own clit. Was this what a man felt like, standing
before a woman, stroking his organ, a sense of conqueror in the motion? Rousing
the desire to sink deep into a wet, welcoming pussy?

Noah’s expression of suffused lust made her hotter. “Oh,
yeah, he likes watching you do that,” Lyda said. “You can make him come, just
by doing that and talking dirty to him. Telling him where you’re going to stuff
that, how hard you’re going to make him come, pounding his ass. Watch his hands
fist in the bonds. He fights it, but he wants it too. I’ve seen a man fuck him,
and he enjoys it, but it’s not the same as when a woman does it to him. It
makes him come undone, and you remake him in the aftermath. You take him all
the way home, and then you keep him there.”