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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."
