Page 7 of Judged by Him

She couldn’t escape his grasp nor breathe naturally. She stared up into his blue eyes. Captured in the corner of the room, she waited for him to answer his own rhetorical question.

“A sex slave, not just a little subbie, but my own private slut to enjoy. You’ve practically begged for it ever since I told you we were going away for three weeks. Three weeks—I don’t think you appreciate what it means, do you?” He kept his tone level.

She shook her head. Gemma could have no idea what the cruise would entail since Jason had kept his holiday plans close to his chest.

He managed to rip off a button on her shorts as he yanked them down, dragging her knickers down, too. One of his hands took Gemma under the chin, tilting her head backwards. He plunged two fingers of the other deep inside her drenched hole. Forcing his hand up until he came close to fisting her, he held her there briefly while she melted about him, glazed eyes half-closed. Withdrawing his fingers, he let her lick them clean of her copious juices with long lashes of her tongue.

“You will wait, my impatient whore. I’ve no intention of fucking your ravenous cunt today. You will demonstrate how appreciative you are of me first. I’m fed up with your attitude, wanting me, and doing everything you can to entice me. I decide, you slut. These fuckholes will be used when I wish, when I want them, as befits their owner,” he hissed at her. “If you chose to come, you’d best show your gratitude. What do you have to say to me?”

At his brutal words, her legs squeezed tightly together. Her neck flushed pink in a rush of heart-thumping blood, and her breathing remained rapid. He summoned her submissive nature to the surface, retrieved from where she hid it during the normality of their daily lives.

“Oh, please. I need it, you know I do,” said Gemma with surprising clarity. “It’s not the sex I crave. Give me your dominance; make me feel it my bones. I can’t get there without you. I’m sorry. Feed me, Master, and I will give you my submission—”

“Hush, you silly thing.” He smiled into her sparkling green eyes. Gemma responded with a slight upward curvature of her lips. It was game they played, the opening flourish of a well-practised dance. The steps of their particular dance would last three weeks, and then they would withdraw, returning to their usual routines.

Her quivering lips had a magnetic pull. He grabbed at them with his own parted ones and enjoyed, for a few brief seconds, an interlude. Curling his tongue around her mouth, he toyed with her, pressing his body hard into her own, making her feel the electricity coursing through him. His loins ached to be released, to thrust deep inside her wetness—it was there below, along with the stiff nipples and tingling clitoris. Jason was vastly familiar with his wife’s body, her nuances and sensual switches. The pause in the proceedings wouldn’t last. Jason wasn’t seeking the kind of eroticism based on romance.

Breaking off, he nodded into her imploring eyes. “So be it. What you need, you’ll get.”

Hands about her neck, he pushed her down to her knees. Jason reached down into his pants and took out his stiffened cock. Watching her pout and flounce about in her corner had given his sex drive motivation, and he could no longer contain his urges. She would be used and reminded he was the one to be obeyed, served, pleasured, and nothing mattered beyond his needs.

Gemma opened her mouth with the willingness he expected from her. She understood he would never harm her. As her Dominant, Jason respected her trust in him as he respected her submission.

She sucked hard on him, trying to make him come, but he wasn’t going to let her off easily. Each time hi

s orgasm neared, he withdrew and took a deep breath, relaxed his stance, and plunged into her mouth until the sensation returned. The minutes ticked by, and her jaw must have ached, and her eyes watered. Her shorts and knickers remained trapped about her ankles. A pathetic sight of dishevelment.

Her wavy hair bunched in his hands, Jason watched the tension in her shoulders slip away. She relinquished, neither fighting him nor resisting him—her focus shifting to pleasing him. After each of her deep breaths, she willingly lowered her mouth onto him and used her tongue around his balls, flicking and teasing with the delicate tip. Eventually, Gemma gazed up at his face and, fluttering her eyelashes, implored him for release. For a tender moment, Jason saw reflected in her pupils his own body, bearing down on her, as she sought his forgiveness with her eyes.

Coming down from his ferocious need to exert his control and willpower over her, Jason let her take him at her own pace and released her hair. Gradually, she reached a rhythm, and he moaned.

“Good girl,” he said.

His words triggered a rise in her natural instinct to submit. With her submission came her intense libido and sexual desires. Gemma gave to him and took back herself. Jason watched her shake as she supressed her orgasm. She had dug down deep to put him first and keep her own lust on hold. Her surrender was deeply gratifying to behold.

When Jason started to build to a climax, he let himself complete, spurting his thick milk down her throat as she swallowed eagerly. She cleaned him with her tongue before he re-arranged his clothing and returned to his seat.

Gemma remained as he had left her, semi-naked, face atrociously covered in drool, and eyes watering. A humiliated pose essential to her submission.

“Tidy yourself. Stay on your knees.”

She managed to pull up her knickers and shorts. With the button gone, she relied on the zipper to keep them around her waist. He threw a tissue box to her, and she wiped her face. Mascara smeared across her cheeks, giving her a forlorn expression.

Jason sighed, cocking his head to one side. The need to hold and embrace her grew, yet he held it at bay. For the moment, he wanted her to feel his dominance, his control, and nothing else. Later, he would offer his affections. “I will speak to Enrique, remind him when other crew members are present, he is to be polite and courteous in his tone.”

Gemma let out a small sob of relief. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“We always seemed to begin our holidays like this, don’t we? Me fucking you into submission. If this is what it takes for you to find yourself, then so be it. We will dine out, and you will be the perfect companion for me. Contrite, loving, and devoted.”

“I will be. You know I will,” Gemma said, the strength in her voice returning.

Jason lifted the laptop lid again. Work beckoned, his constant, undesired distraction.

“Go and clean yourself up. Make me proud. We leave at eight-thirty for dinner.”

***

Humiliated, degraded, and used, Gemma hobbled out, clutching her pants.

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