Divine Solace (Nature of Desire 8)

She was carrying her shoes, and Noah nudged her onto the stepping stones, keeping her out of the vegetation that might prick her feet. The slate still held some of the heat of the humid day. She heard the faint pops of bug zappers.

At the top of the steps, Noah opened the door for her. Thinking of what Lyda said about Noah working his ass off for the right to fuck Gen sent a ripple through her. She had a difficult time not staring at the heavy weight filling the charcoal-gray knit shorts.

Gen managed not to stumble over the threshold as Noah gestured her to precede him. Lyda leaned against the wall at the end of the hall, arms crossed beneath her breasts, one booted foot hooked over the opposite ankle. Her perusal made Gen feel as undressed as Noah. A female glancing at her in a dressing room was just curiosity. Are her thighs fat as mine? Lyda was evaluating her as a sexual being, someone from whom she intended to make sexual demands. The difference was astronomical.

Lyda took off the tunic covering her corset. The latex leggings molded her sex, the tantalizing crease between thigh and hip. As Gen watched, Lyda unfastened the first several hooks of the corset, exposing a deeper plunge between her breasts.

"You're not in the position I require when you enter my house."

She was talking to Noah, because he immediately dropped to one knee. He kept his grip on Gen's hand. Lyda's gaze remained cool, dispassionate. When she arched a slim brow, Gen wondered if she expected her to kneel.

That wasn't the scary thing. The scary thing was Gen had to lock her knees to keep herself from doing it. A big part of her wanted to tumble down that rabbit hole, see what adventures lay in wait for her.

This isn't me. Be cautious.

Better to be safe, even if it made her sorry.

Chapter Six

She'd been so close to doing it, her heart hammered in her throat as if she had. Did Noah feel it? His grip had tightened, his thumb sliding over her palm, a reassurance.

Lyda moved down the hall, her body sexual poetry in motion. "Eyes on the floor. Let go of her hand."

Gen alone had the pleasure of seeing the latex crease around Lyda's sex, the way her breasts quivered as she sauntered toward them. She had a thin silver chain wrapped around one hand.

"You knew to kneel when you first entered. You were being polite, trying not to make our guest feel self-conscious. But who do you obey, first and foremost?"

"You, Mistress." Noah's voice was respectful.

"Take off your underwear."

He did so, with more grace than Gen could have managed if she'd been on her knees the way he was. She saw a bare haunch emerge, the seam of his buttocks. When he sat back, she bit back a surprised noise. His cock was locked in a curved, form-fitting metal sheath. His testicles were swollen beneath its steel collar.

She'd thought he'd been erect tonight, and instead it had been the frame of that chastity cage. When he'd been stroking himself, he'd been gripping that sheath, the entire purpose to titillate Gen's senses. But God... He'd said the pain of getting hard in such a device kept the cock from getting erect, but in that environment, saturated in sex...God, performing oral sex on Gen... Lyda was a sadist.

Lyda let the chain unwind from her hand, dangling a key in front of him. "You may release yourself, now that I know your cock will only be getting stiff from what I do to it. Or what I allow Gen to do to it."

"Yes Mistress." When she dropped the key to the floor in front of him, he unlocked a small padlock that rested in the valley provided by his testicles. Gen watched, fascinated, as he parted the two pieces of the sheath. There'd been a thin steel rod inserted into the slit, about an inch long. Jesus.

The tip had milky-white pre-cum collected around it. Even as he removed it, blood was starting to fill his cock. It was clear the organ would soon be standing proud between his thighs. Wearing it only restricted his physical state of arousal, not the mental one.

"As soon as the beast is out of the cage, it's ready to play." When Lyda caressed his hair, he pressed his temple to her thigh, brushing his lips there. "Let's see if you've been as good as you're supposed to be." She crooned it, but Gen saw the measuring look in her eyes. Squatting, Lyda clasped his cock in a functional grip, probed the slit. Muscles rippled across his back, his body tightening at the stimulation. "Good boy. You didn't wear it too long."

She looked at Gen. "He earned himself a severe punishment the night it started to hurt and he didn't tell me. Taking care of his cock so I have use of it whenever I wish is an important priority for a male sub."

"What did you do to him?" Having this conversation while Noah kept silent, his eyes down, was odd, but Gen was too curious not to ask. Lyda's hand remained on his neck as she rose, thumb tapping his main artery in an idle caress that had his fingers curling and uncurling on his thighs.

"I shamed him by doing the cleanings and flushings myself. He took the prescribed antibiotics from my hand. On top of that, he was allowed to do nothing for me, as his Mistress, for a week. If I couldn't trust him to care for something as precious to me as his dick, I couldn't trust him to care for me. It did the trick. For now."

Noah's cheeks had a dull flush from that exchange. Gen noticed a flex of his jaw muscle. Lyda saw it too. "You have something to say, Noah?" she said sharply.

"No Mistress."

"Hmm. Gen, are you hungry?"

"A little."

"Noah, go fix us a snack and a drink. Something with carbs and protein. Gen will need her energy and so will you. Bring it to us in the living room."