by Joey W. Hill
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."
Lyda pressed herself against Gen's back again, cupping both her breasts. Gen let out a moan as Lyda ground her pubic mound against Gen's backside. Gen rolled her hips, wanting to give her Mistress pleasure. Lyda nipped her neck.
"Look at his chest, Gen. You did that." She saw it then, the crescent marks where her nails had bitten into his skin.
"He likes nothing better than to be marked by us. Maybe we'll do that permanently one day. Brand his ass when he figures out what belonging to a Mistress really means."
His gaze slid to Lyda's. Gen sensed a whisper of that conflict between them again, but Lyda didn't linger long enough to let it snag them this time. Her hands slid from Gen's breasts, and she gave her a push. "Flirt with him while I get ready."
Gen wet her lips. Keeping her hand moving on the now well-greased phallus, she moved forward, shifting closer to the wall so Noah could get a better look at her.
"No wonder a guy thinks this makes him king of the world. The weight of it makes me want to swagger."
A smile touched his lips, but it didn't dilute the intensity of his eyes. "Closer," he said, his voice a growl.
She arched a brow, but eased forward. His legs were bound, his wrists, but he still managed to emanate a sensual threat. She expected there was some primal dance of testosterone versus estrogen where the former, when whipped to a lustful frenzy like this, could set off a woman's flight instinct. Only in this case, she kept drawing closer to the threat, not away, as if she knew the danger was worth it.
When she was close enough that the tip of the dildo brushed his testicles, she reached up with her non-lubing hand. Gathering a handful of his hair, she stroked the straight silk of it over his bare shoulder, tangled her fingers in it. The other hand she put on his abdomen, leaving a slick trail down to his cock, where she closed her fingers over him. She played with the corona through the latex, wishing the barrier wasn't between them.
His head dropped, neck twisting. Before she could anticipate him, he closed his teeth on her throat. His clamp on the carotid was so firm she could feel the pump of her blood, and it accelerated as she recognized that untamed side Lyda had talked about. Her eyes closed, and she gripped his hips with both hands, pressing her upper body as close as she could, lifting upon her toes. The tip of his cock dragged against her navel, the hard length pressing against her lower abdomen.
His tongue played along her pulse, teeth tightening further. He wasn't breaking skin, but he was compressing the area enough the pulse rate started to thunder. She felt the faint buzz of the tongue stud and her whole body reacted with a gooseflesh-raising shudder.
"Noah," she breathed, her fingers scraping at his flesh. "I'm getting...dizzy."
He released her, nuzzled the bitten area. She captured his mouth, gripping the back of his neck to hold him, plunder his lips. He gave her back a kiss so intense, her toes curled in her heels. When a track of arousal ran down her leg, Lyda's fingertip slid along it. She gripped Gen's waist, drawing her back.
The Mistress had one hand on Noah's back, the other now up to her lips, tasting Gen. "Ready?" she asked, her gaze like molt
en steel.
When Gen made a noise of agreement, Lyda curled her fingers in the strap at her waist, gently tugged so she was shifted between him and Lyda. He adjusted his feet in the boots, getting ready for her. His fingers curled and uncurled in his cuffs.
Gen glimpsed another strap-on Lyda had laid on the chair. Lyda had chosen the princess-pink one for herself. The one she'd be fucking Gen with. Another little shudder ran through Gen, imagining Lyda driving that into her. "This is now your party," Lyda said to her. "You're lubed up good enough. You fuck him when you're ready. Take your time with it, play with him, do whatever foreplay you enjoy."
"I don't want to hurt him. I've never done it."
"Ease in, don't push," Lyda advised. "Other than that, you'll be fine. He has a nice, tight ass, but it's been well used. He's not a virgin to it."
Gen saw Noah's eye trained on her through that fall of hair along the side of his face, but then Lyda captured her attention with a firm touch on her jaw. "You command his orgasm, Gen. He doesn't go until you say so. If he does, he gets punished." Her gaze gleamed. "So you can guess which way I'm hoping things will go. I was holding back with you. I won't with him."
Gen remembered the pain of those thin straps. The same way he'd wanted to protect her, she didn't want Noah punished. Lyda was right. It was hard to reconcile those two emotions, craving the pain Gen wanted to spare another.
Lyda stepped back, picking up the pink strap-on so she could sit on the chair. "He's all yours, Gen. You own his ass, his cock, and everything attached to them. He's your property. Touch him any way you wish. Command him however you desire."
A heady thought. Wicked, politically incorrect, titillating. Irresistible. With every word Lyda spoke, Noah's breathing elevated, making those handsome shoulders and chest expand and contract, conveying arousal, anticipation. Gen's gaze riveted on the curves of his buttocks. Wetting her lips, she stepped forward. She slid one fingertip over the right cheek, and it quivered, both of them tightening in automatic reflex. Hard desire speared her.
"Do that again," she murmured. "Hold it that way."
He obeyed, tightening his ass so his thigh muscles hardened, as well as the muscles of his lower back. She ran her fingers over the pleasurable terrain, scraping him to watch those little twitches and movements. God, he had a fine ass. "Now relax it."
"I like thinking about the way it looks from behind, when a man's inside me." She wasn't sure if she was talking to herself, him or Lyda. It didn't matter. "The pumping motion as he's thrusting. I'd like to have a mirror on the ceiling, so I could watch. I think I could come from just that, no matter what else he was doing."
An image passed through her mind of Lyda lying on top of her the other night, making a similar movement. Her beautiful heart-shaped ass would have been making that flexing motion, her shoulders and slim back shifting.
Gen ran her hands over Noah's back, that vision melding into this one, both pleasurable. She caressed his shoulders, his neck, under his hair, into his hair. He rolled his head with the movement, like a horse being pleasured by her touch, and she liked that, so she did it again, exploring all of him. As she did, she moved closer, nudging him with the dildo. It slid between his legs, and she rotated her hips, rubbing the phallus against his testicles. Sliding her arms around him, she pressed herself full against his back and began to work her hips in the act of coitus she'd just described. When he let out a quiet groan of pleasure, she ran her lips along his spine, between his shoulder blades. All hers. He was all hers.
And they both belonged to Lyda. The Mistress's regard was a tangible force. She was seeing what Gen had imagined, the rise and fall, flex and release of her ass as she moved against Noah, their naked bodies pressed together. Though Gen was allowing her own desires to lead her, Lyda had directed their physical and emotional responses onto this track. Yet it wasn't all one-way. Gen loved knowing they were making Lyda wet and aroused. She was strangely humbled that Lyda was restraining her obvious natural instinct to dominate them both to let Gen explore who and what she was.
She rose on her toes to bite Noah's shoulder hard, payback. She thought again about Lyda's threat to make her wear a shirt that would show off her own marks. It made her crazy hot to think of it.
Sliding the dildo from between his thighs, Gen adjusted the stool. With a steadying breath, she stepped upon it. As she guided the lubricated tip between his buttocks, she earned a fervent oath from him and felt him bracing himself in the boots.
A well-used ass, Lyda had said. But to Gen it was all brand new.
She was careful, because she remembered how much it had hurt her. But Lyda's finger hadn't hurt. Gen had begged for more with the movement of her hips. She pressed inward, her heart high in her throat. God, it felt... She eased farther in, and those muscles gave way like open sesame, a gateway waiting just for her.
She expected it was the closest a woman could get to what sinking into someone was like. She slid deep, Noah shuddering all the way, and then she was holding him tight around the waist, the strap-on pressed against her cunt in a way that begged her to keep moving, keeping working it back and forth so she'd get that stimulation as well. But she stayed like this an extra moment. She could feel Noah's inner muscles clutching the dildo. The vibration came up the shaft, sexy, involuntary little twitches. Experimenting, she drew back, then sank back in.
Oh yeah. That was the ticket, if how his breath whistled out and he clenched his fingers in the cuffs were any indication. She did it again, small movements, spreading her hands against his chest, plucking at his nipples. She wasn't hurting him, which was a relief that spiked the pleasure, as did his rough words.
"God...fuck...Gen."
The power of it was unbelievable. Lyda had said he was her property. Hers to fuck, to possess. To keep. She'd never experienced that with any boyfriend, husband...they'd been sand passing through her fingers, even when she lay in bed next to them, even when holding them. Was it like this every time a Domme claimed a sub? Was it just an in-session kind of feeling, or could it be carried into the real world? Could it intertwine with how Gen felt about Noah and become a constant element of their relationship, as much as waking in the morning together, sharing breakfast, paying bills...
If it could, how did Lyda keep it compartmentalized the way she did? Or did she?
Gen's response was ratcheting up with every impact of the strap-on. It silenced the debate, focused her on the here and now. Then Lyda's fingers curled over her hips. On Gen's next pull-back stroke, Lyda slid deep into her cunt.
She'd stayed aware of Lyda's scrutiny, but somewhere along the way Gen had lost where she was, what she was doing. So it was an erotic shock to be suddenly impaled, her aroused tissues clutching the dildo inside her the way Noah's ass was holding onto Gen's. "Oh...Christ..."
Lyda was doing exactly what she'd threatened...promised. She pushed Gen flush against Noah and held her there, using him as a wall and not allowing Gen to move as she worked her hips, thrusting the pink phallus in and out of Gen's pussy. A slick slide against tissues already vibrating with need.
"Mistress..."
"Just take it, baby girl. I get my pleasure before you get yours. That's the way this pyramid works. Don't you move, or I'll beat you with that flogger again."
Noah was a lit cannon under Gen's grip, his body hot and hard, every muscle clenched. Her own thighs were shaking as Lyda kept driving into her. At some point, she and Noah were doing the shuddering thing together, incoherent breaths, pleas and oaths slipping from their lips. Gen dug her fingers into his chest, held on for dear life.
"Please...Mistress..."
Lyda let out a nasty chuckle. "Keep begging. You have such a sweet pussy, I might just have to keep at this for a while."
"I can't..."
"But you will. You both will." Lyda pinched her nipple, making Gen flinch. "If he gets too close to coming before you give him permission, dig your nails into the base of his cock, give his balls a twist. It works wonders to ke
ep them focused."
She'd forgotten Noah was waiting on her to give the command. She'd abdicated everything to Lyda the moment she touched Gen. What did that say about her?
Lyda had said he'd be punished if he came before Gen gave the order. Noah was obviously so desperately close she followed Lyda's orders, groping for his cock. Holy fuck, he was huge. Her pussy got even wetter, if that was possible. She could hear it sucking on the phallus Lyda was thrusting into her. Lyda made a pleased noise.
Gen bit her nails into his cock, squeezed his testicles. Harder, until she heard him grunt. And Lyda slammed into her again. The woman's breath was rapid, and then it moved into a soft moan, entirely feminine, unexpected. Gen had expected her to roar like a lioness. Yet it was even more arousing to hear Lyda release with those female helpless cries of pleasure. She had her mouth pressed to Gen's shoulder, teeth on her flesh as she held Gen's hips tight, worked the dildo in her fast and furious. Gen couldn't last a second more. She barely remembered to gasp out the permission.
"Come, Noah. Please come."
He released with a snarl. With his hips pistoning and Lyda still deep inside Gen, Gen was catapulted into another universe-bending climax. When Lyda's hands gripped her breasts and tweaked her nipples this time, it shot her over a higher ledge. She was whirling, spinning, tumbling.
She clawed at Noah as if she really was falling off a cliff. Since Lyda was pressed full against her back, Gen groped behind her, latched onto her forearm. She held them both tight as she fell to earth like a stone.
*
Music returned. Voices. The erratic air currents in a place occupied by a lot of people. She'd had another intense sexual experience in the middle of a club, a public forum. When she tilted her head to look up, she regretted it. The mezzanine had become standing room only, like ringside seats at a heavyweight championship. She knew without being told it was all for them. It had been a spectacular event to witness, let alone experience. God, what the hell?
"I need to move," she managed. "Please."