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“No, Sir. I’m not into self-inflicted masochism or humiliation. I did my usual routine, Sir.” Her gaze remained firmly planted on his feet.
He chortled at her reply. She hadn’t lost her sense of humour. “I see. Perfectly acceptable under the circumstances. I want to tell you what I’m going to do with you. I anticipate you’re going to be somewhat anxious about my intentions, given my temperament this morning.”
“I trust you, Sir. You know that,” she responded quickly.
“I am having a challenging day and, at the moment, you are the only part of it that is pleasing me. So, I want you to keep doing that, regardless of what you feel about me.”
“My only wish is to please you, Sir. So you leave here knowing I am yours and only yours.”
He detected automation in her responses, as if she had devised a script. Her coping mechanism. “Good. Then you can appreciate that in the mood I’m in, you’re not necessarily going to be receiving pleasure from me. You’re going to have to be a good little sub for me.”
“I will be, Sir,” she said with conviction.
Gemma closed her eyes, inhaled deeply. Her familiar breathing exercises. He sat opposite her, waiting and watching her gain her composure and her nerves. She flushed with hot blood flowing through her veins. Reaching forward, he cupped his hand under her sex. With a jump, she opened her eyes. Her pussy had betrayed her. Warm juices slipped out, down his finger.
“Lusty, aren’t you? Me, likewise, Gemma. You’ve made me quite hard and keen for you. My slut. However, I’m not complaining.” His hand left her.
Gemma sucked in one last deep lungful of air and looked straight at Jason. “I’m ready for you, Sir.”
Within seconds, she bent over the padded surface of the table with Jason leaning over her. Her legs dangled down, splayed wide for him. Fingers explored her regions and her contours. He sniffed the clean aroma of her hair, rose petals and strawberries—her cocktail of scents.
“To have you,” he whispered, “to take you. This is all I desire. To leave marks on you and to know they are made by me—this is my love for you.”
His words heightened her need for him to be deep inside, and he would make her wait. With each of pass of his palm down her body, she would crave more of him and, when his other hand grasped her hair, she cried out.
“Yes, oh, yes!”
Time was too short. His actions needed to be swift. He plied her with his cock. Clinging to the table, she could do little but let him loose on her weaknesses. Each time he took her, she gave more of her submission back to him. Arching her back at one point, she screwed her wet pussy on him as if to make a point of her emotional sacrifice.
Standing over her, Jason took deep breaths to slow his heartbeat, and checking his hands were steady, he reached for what he required. He intended to devour Gemma from head to toe.
***
Gemma collapsed on the bed. As promised, he had marked her body and impaled her with his passionate thrusts. She knew the collection included bite marks and the stripes of the crop across her buttocks, and a pinkish glow from the flogger covered virtually every part of her flesh. Between her legs, she leaked. Inside, she felt a well-fucked soreness, which she had experienced before, though not for some considerable time.
His accompanying crude words of encouragement had been intensely arousing, like an aphrodisiac to her clitoris. He had been generous with the vibrating wand, offering it to her at intervals, and she’d spewed her gratitude through the ball gag. She’d groaned and whimpered as he grunted at his own exertions. When she could take no more of his devices and implements, he’d dispensed with them and resorted to fucking her hard. The rough intercourse had taken her to the brink of her limits.
It had become a struggle to contain her emotions. “Okay, babe.” Jason said. “You’re doing well. I’m slowing it up. Is that all right?” He had stroked her face with his warm hand.
“Yes.”
“Continue?”
“Yes. Please don’t let me drift too far, Jason. I’m feeling close to freaky as it is.”
“I’m watching you carefully, babe. I’m not going to lose you. Listen to my voice.”
Those interludes of normality weren’t strange to Gemma. To be addressed, almost matter-of-factly, as if their kinky sex was a routine act, kept her grounded. Throughout their time as Dom and sub, there remained a backbone of civility, respect, and mutual trust—essential elements for making their relationship successful and enduring. By the time he had achieved his long-awaited orgasm, she had been ready for his other qualities—tenderness, consideration, and supportive aftercare. Lying on the bed, he conducted himself beyond the duties of a sometime Dom. He conducted himself as her husband.
She welcomed the ice-cubes, their numbing addition to her insides. One in each hole. He checked over her body from tip to toe and announced that although he had marked her skin aplenty. Within a couple of days, she would free of the blemishes. The exception, the six marks on her buttocks—those he had applied specifically as a more enduring feature of the session.
“What is all the noise above us, Jason?” asked Gemma, head buried in her pillow.
“Apologies. Very distracting. The helipad is being assembled on the sundeck. I’m being picked up by helicopter and taken to Rome for my flight home.” Jason remained stretched out on his side, a hand stroking her back gently.
“Helicopter? You’re leaving on a helicopter?” She perched on her elbows.
“Easier than guessing which port we’ll be closest to. The GPS can pick us out of the water easily.”
