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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."
Lyda lifted off her, gently detaching her arm from Gen's grip when Gen couldn't uncurl her fingers on her own. Lyda guided Gen's arm under Noah's. "Hold onto him," she ordered. When Gen complied, palms pressed to his chest, Lyda withdrew. Gen's pussy contracted with the movement, a shiver running through her. She only had a moment to miss the pleasure of Lyda's body before a terrycloth robe was laid over her shaking shoulders. Lyda threaded her hands into the sleeves, one at a time, as if Gen was a doll. She didn't try to pull the robe around Gen's front, letting her draw warmth from Noah's strong back, the curve of his buttocks against her pelvis.
After Lyda ensured Gen's arms were wound securely around his chest again, she released Noah's wrists. She brought his arms down one at a time, ensuring he kept his movements gradual. She directed him to hold onto the side pieces of the frame. "Stay in this position until I get her moved."
Putting her hands on Gen's hips, Lyda eased her back, bringing the strap-on out of Noah's ass together. "Easy. Take everything slow."
The internal muscles released. Gen heard Noah's grunt at the stimulation, then the phallus was out. After Lyda removed the strap-on, she let Gen collapse against his back, her damp pussy pressed against his ass. She didn't want to think or feel beyond the simple bulwark of his body.
But Lyda insisted on moving her once more, guiding her down into the chair she'd slid up behind them. Gen blinked. The world was spinning. Though her butt was in the chair, the rest of her wanted to go topsy-turvy, like a rag doll with no bones.
While Lyda was steadying her, Noah bent and unlatched the boots. He stripped the condom off his cock, tossed it in the trash. "Let me help, Mistress," he said.
Though Lyda made a mildly annoyed sound at his disobedience, she nodded. Noah scooped Gen off the chair. Her arms circled his neck, hiding her face. When he slid down the wall of the cubicle, seating them on the floor, she realized he'd picked the side partially beneath the mezzanine, sheltering her from the watching faces above. He understood so much without being asked. No wonder Doms liked using him as an "aftercare nanny". Did Lyda ever do that, so she didn't have to do it herself? It made Gen sad to think so.
Just as before, she had a mix of desolate feelings warring with post-orgasmic euphoria. Distantly, Gen was aware of Lyda stripping the condoms from the strap-ons and putting everything they'd used into a used toy bin for sterilizing. Mess all cleaned up, at least on the outside. She needed to go home. She wanted to go home.
"You said he could go home with me." She spoke against his throat.
"Yes, I did." Lyda's voice told Gen she was across the cubicle.
"I want to go home."
"All right. We'll get you dressed--"
"I don't care. I just want to go home." Gen pushed herself up, rising on unsteady legs. Way unsteady.
"Whoa." Noah, somehow far more recovered than she was, was on his feet. He had her on one side as Lyda caught the other. "Take it slow, Gen. You need to--"
"Let go of me. I need to go home. I...stop..."
She pushed away from them, never mind how disoriented she was. She couldn't find the exit to the cubicle. It was a fucking maze. A labyrinth, just like her feelings, this sudden panic. "I'm going." She bumped into the wall like a beetle in a bottle, but started moving along it. The wall should give way to an opening.
"Gen." Lyda's snap was effective as the touch of a whip, jerking Gen around. She was pushed into a chair. "Sit until you're steadier. Sit. Down." Lyda's unshakable grip stayed on Gen's shoulders until the words penetrated. She met Lyda's silver eyes. In control. Lyda was in control.
Gen shivered. "I can't...what is this?"
"It's kind of subspace and sub-drop, all at the same time."
"Sundrop? Like the soda." A hysterical laugh bubbled up. Noah was squatting by the chair, his hand on her knee. She gripped it as if she thought she might fall off a real cliff if she let go of him. She wanted to seize Lyda's other hand, but Lyda had straightened. As a result, Gen's hand landed on the soft linen of her shirt, Gen's fingers curling into the waistband of the riding breeches, thumb fingering the zippered side. Lyda was beneath, cool flesh, a bare hip bone. No underwear. Would she ever see Lyda naked...and not just physically?
"Sub-drop, dopey. Not sundrop." Lyda stroked her hair from her cheek, then took a firm hold on her chin. "Sessions bring up a lot of shit in a submissive's subconscious, things that can overwhelm you, because you're too emotionally drained to process them. No shields to contain them. That means it's working the way it's supposed to work. Don't fight it. Just ride it out. We're here to watch over you."
Easy for Lyda to say. She'd caused that earthquake inside Gen, yet she looked unfazed, steady as a mountain. Detached. It hurt. Gen drew away, closer to Noah. She clenched his hand. "You said...I could keep him tonight."
