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Shit! His little fucking traps surround me. Luring me with pleasant conversation and then whoosh! My Master strikes.
“As you wish, Sir.” Her pulse quickened as his weight bore down. “When?”
He shifted, moving away. “Later. It’s already nearly two o’clock, and I’m starving.”
Gemma sighed. She felt hungry, too, but not just for food.
They ate on the sundeck. Jason insisted Gemma remain naked and at his disposal. He kept her in a perpetual state of readiness. Touching her and running his smooth-tipped fingers over her body. After the meal, he lay her over his lap as he rested on the lounger and played with her. Teasing her sex, breasts, and bottom, poking in and out of her with his fingers. She squirmed and writhed under his ministrations.
“You need holding down, don’t you, slave?” he whispered in her ear.
Something hot and urgent sizzled inside her sex. “Yes, please, Master.”
What would have been humiliating to her two weeks ago was now tantalising, erotic, and extremely desirous. He had toys brought to him by Enrique, his favourites, and cruelly he took her to the brink and then withdrew them. Unable to achieve her orgasm with his constant change of direction, she whimpered. After half an hour, he grew bored and told Enrique to bring rope. They hogtied her, and Jason played with her in the small pool on the sundeck. Pushing her under and spinning her around. Pulling her up and down in the water by her nipples, making her cry out. He didn’t seem to care if they were heard. She didn’t shed tear. However, her eyes smarted from the sharpness of his tugs on her nipples. Still, she couldn’t reach a climax.
Her calf muscles tightening, she rushed her mercy word out. “Yellow!”
“Cramping?” guessed Jason.
“Nearly. No more, please,” she begged.
Maria, who had been patiently watching throughout the water play, gave Gemma a mini massage, stretched out on a sun bed while Jason relaxed in the pool. He had managed to temper his hardness, holding back from full blow sex with her. If he could wait, so would she.
***
Their conversation that morning had brought to Jason many memories of other times, other voyages on Sublime. Maria had commented, very soon after he had arrived on the yacht with Gemma, that he had changed. A bright, perceptive woman, accustomed to feeling tension under her fingers, sensing it slip away as she pressed down on pressure points and knots of strained tissue. Maybe she saw personalities in the muscles and tissue of her clients. He only guessed at the source of her perceptive powers.
She had massaged him, not on this voyage, but earlier ones. She had made him come with her hands only. Good, strong orgasms, which managed to invigorate him even in the state of total relaxation. In return, he rewarded her well, though not with intercourse. Enrique didn’t like Maria having sex with anyone but him, but he was happy for powerful hands to bring her to a climax.
On those distant cruises, Maria had obediently stood by, mute, during the enemas she’d performed on his chosen sub. She would stand by as Jason tormented his chosen girl. Maria had seen his mean streak, the sadistic side of him in full flight and, in hindsight, he realised it must have been hard for her to witness. That first voyage—when he came with three other Dominants and three
subs—the yacht had been jointly chartered between them, with Jason paying the substantial deposit. Wealthy, though unsure how to make best use of his growing personal fortune, he came to see what play was like on a cruise. Dipping in and out of ports, constant sunshine, and never-ending warm days.
The other men were equally young. Wealthy in the own right, they’d decided to collectively have two weeks of orgies and debauchery with willing participants. They split the costs between them, allocated the private deck and stateroom as a communal playroom, while sleeping in the best cabins. Not that they slept at regular times. Carefully selecting the right girls for the trip, they had tested them out in their homes and clubs. Imposed a contractual agreement with the three young women and instructed them in how they should conduct themselves.
Sitting in Sublime’s pool, Jason acknowledged, that he had treated the girls like objects. He hadn’t been the cruellest of the four of them. He had refused to punish one girl. She had been struggling and constantly broke their rules: orgasm denial, speaking without permission, looking at them. Instead, to save her bruised bottom from further abuse, she had to polish all the mirrors using her breasts and a cloth. Enrique drew a fine picture of the girl with breasts squashed against a mirror.
One girl did leave. Not because she was unable to deal with the demands of their sexual appetites or the humiliating acts they made her perform. She found out she suffered terrible motion sickness. Constantly uttering yellow during scenes, especially if she was used orally, she tearfully apologised for intense nausea. Jason had on a few occasions held her hair out of the way while she vomited down the toilet bowl. She had tried the patches and pills, but nothing worked as her sensitive inner ears refused to balance out the movement of the yacht beneath her feet or knees. The girls had been made to kneel a great deal.
Jason, from outset of the voyage, had used his leadership qualities to ensure he managed the whole adventure. The other men accepted his role without question. Jason liked to keep his face expressionless when at his most controlling, his eyes bright and piercing. While the others pushed the seasick girl, Jason had taken her to one side and sat her on his lap, cuddling her.
“You’re not a failure if you go home,” he had whispered in her ear. “You couldn’t have known you’d have this problem. Go back and enjoy being fucked on terra firma. Don’t let this put you off servicing Dominants. You’re good when you’re not about to puke on my feet.”
The girl smiled, gave him a quiet thank you, and agreed it was the right decision. She left at the next port and had been replaced by a reserve girl.
“You should have pushed her, Jason,” had said one of the other Doms. “I don’t mind her throwing up as long as she keeps her legs spread wide for me.”
Jason had frowned. His natural inclination for hygiene had been one factor in sending the girl back, but in his heart, he knew he was never going to have an ailing woman submit to him.
“You’re the sick one.”
The other man thought he had been jesting and shrugged his shoulders, but Jason had been serious. Mentally, he made a big note to himself. Buy the yacht and share it with his real friends—Doms and subs he respected. After the cruise, he didn’t contact the man again.
Maria had never heard those conversations between Jason and the seasick submissive, nor the one with the unsympathetic Dom. From her perspective, the woman had been put off the yacht and sent packing because she kept saying yellow too much. Outwardly, he appeared unapproachable, harsh, and unyielding. In reality, Jason hadn’t been as severe as he seemed. He liked to keep a façade of remoteness and disinterest. He cultivated the behaviour in both his personal and public life, building his reputation for aloofness and indifference.
Gemma and probably his mother were the only two people in recent years to have breached his control mechanisms. His wife had found a way with her love and honesty. His mother in her acceptance of his lifestyle and non-judgemental views of him. With those two women, he let his face show his emotions more readily and clearly. He had let Maria hold the view he was a decadent and insensitive man for many years. Perhaps she, too, had seen past it all. Maybe she was another to accept he wasn’t a total bastard, after all.
***
