Gen wet her lips. “How do you tell the difference?”
“Practice. Intuition. Trial and error. This is a consensual game, Gen. No matter what I do to you, you can end it with a single word. We call it a safeword. However, I always rely on unconscious signals first and foremost, because they’re more truthful, and often come into play long before the safeword.”
“You think I’m a submissive, not just someone indulging a sexual adventure.”
“Being a submissive is a wide, wide range. At this point, I’d rather not slap a label on you, and not just because it would spook you. I think it would limit us both. Whatever you are…it’s interesting.” One of those slim brows arched. “The fact you did what you did at the club, and how you respond to soft commands, like keeping your hands at your sides now, tells me you want to explore this more yourself.”
It was hard to argue with that. But since she seemed amenable to questions, Gen had plenty. “Say all that’s true tomorrow. How does this work going forward? Do we set up appointments…dates? Is it a relationship or like going to a carnival every once in a while?” Realizing she might sound like a clingy first date, she added, awkwardly, “This isn’t my world. I don’t know how it works.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s not your world. It’s not a world you’ve chosen to enter until now.” Lyda lifted a hand, ticking off points on her fingers. “Your boss is a very strong female Dominant, but you defer to her on a personal level as well as a professional one. Are you friends?”
When Gen hesitated over it, Lyda nodded. “The question gives you pause because yes, she is a friend, but there’s something more there too. Like family, but not. She provides a certain direction to your life, a stability to your core, that you’ve never examined all that closely.”
Lyda slid her fingertips over Gen’s knee, a stroke that sent the nerve endings around it rippling. Then she resumed her count. “Your best friend chose a man fully immersed in the Dom/sub world for her husband. You took Noah into your home for the weekend, and when you learned what he was, you took steps toward exploring the limits of that. In the shallow end, yes, but you did. And tonight, you surrendered yourself to me publicly, almost without hesitation.”
“It was the environment. When in Rome…” Gen trailed off before that keen glance, one that brooked no lying. Jesus, just like Marguerite. “But I have no idea what I’m doing or why I’m doing it. That’s not like me. I don’t like uncertainty.”
“This is entirely different from anything you’ve ever done, but don’t assume it’s alien, Gen. Haven’t you ever visited a new place that, for reasons you can’t explain, feels familiar?”
“Sounds like what cult leaders say.”
Lyda chuckled at that, but it wasn’t cynical or mocking. She sounded appreciative of Gen’s humor. The sultry note was also very distracting. Gen found herself wanting to lay a hand on her throat, feel the vibration of it. Lyda had a beautiful neck, coaxing the fingertips to stroke the lines of it, follow that slope to the generous breasts. She was obviously not going to have clear thoughts about any of this until she was well out of range of Noah or Lyda.
Resigned to that, she shifted the topic to Lyda herself. “Was that how it worked for you? I mean…you weren’t born with cuffs in one hand, a whip in the other, right?”
The lines around Lyda’s eyes crinkled. “No. But as I told you in the car, stories about me will come another time.”
The woman slid her nails under Gen’s bra strap, caressing her collarbone, then dipped to the upper rise of her breast. Gen’s skin rose in gooseflesh beneath the touch, and she drew in a breath as Lyda pushed deeper into the cup, her finger playing over her nipple as it hardened. Gen tried not to squirm on the couch in response. Her attention went back to Lyda’s breasts, those few undone hooks of the corset revealing a tempting, shadowed valley.
“What are you thinking, Gen?”
“I find you…very attractive.” What a stupid thing to say. Lyda probably heard things like that all the time. Was she really playing teenage mind games, trying to figure out the cool thing to say? Was she regressing that badly? Just be an adult and say what you mean. “I haven’t ever been attracted to a woman like this. Not past the casual fantasy level.”
“Then I’m flattered I’ve won your attention. Take off your bra, Gen.”
No matter what conflicting thoughts were going through Gen’s head, Lyda was right about one thing. Something about all of this worked for Gen. Maybe it wouldn’t tomorrow. Maybe she’d think she’d lost her mind, but tonight, when Lyda spoke, she wanted to obey. Unhooking the bra beneath the dress, she slid the straps out the sleeves, pulled the whole garment free. At Lyda’s nod, she folded it neatly and laid it on the coffee table.
Lyda straightened on the couch, putting both feet on the floor. “Stand up in front of me. Don’t be worried, Gen.”
When Gen complied, Lyda cupped her hands around Gen’s breasts, exploring their weight and shape through the thin dress fabric. She kneaded them gently, stroked her thumbs over them. She didn’t touch the nipples, even though Gen could see as well as Lyda how stiff they were, begging for the contact. Instead, Lyda dropped her hold to Gen’s hips and brought her close enough her legs touched Lyda’s knees. “Spread your legs so they’re wider than my feet.”
She did, and Lyda slipped a hand between Gen’s legs, up under the short skirt. When her knuckles slid over Gen’s labia, teasing her clit, Gen swayed in reaction. Lyda’s other hand tightened on her hip. “Put your hand on my shoulder.”
She’d take any excuse to touch the woman, and this one allowed her to twine her fingers in the silky hair that had fallen forward on the shoulder Lyda had bared. She had silky skin as well. When Gen inhaled, she got a faint whiff of perfumed powder. Gen drew in a breath as Lyda inserted a finger beneath the panties and pushed up inside her pussy. When the muscles contracted in response, Lyda let out a pleased hum. “Nice and wet.”
Gen heard her pussy make a sucking sound on Lyda’s fingers as she explored. She had no time to be embarrassed over that, because whatever else she did made Gen bite back a moan.
“Keep your other hand at your side, unless I direct you otherwise. You hold onto my shoulder with the one hand, I’ll keep you steady with the other one. You’re safe with me, Gen. Do you understand?”
She didn’t understand it, but she certainly felt it in this moment. Her uneasiness about that wasn’t strong enough to make Gen want to stop what was happening.
“You said you haven’t really taken it past the fantasy stage.” Lyda asked the casual question as her hand stayed busy. “So you’ve never had sex with a woman, Gen? Played with one during your teenage years?”
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.
Nature of Desire 8 - Divine solace Page 14