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Sublime crossed the Adriatic Sea at a sedate pace. They had to pass through several busy shipping lines heading to northern Italy. Gemma slept for a brief period after Maria’s helpful massage of her taut legs. Still no orgasm, and even in her sleep, her sex remained swollen, nursed by erotic dreams. By the time she awoke, provided with drinks and other reinvigorating refreshments by Maria, she felt as pliable as play dough in a small child’s hands. Led to the stateroom, she meekly stood under the pulley and, without speaking, let Jason and Enrique bind her wrists above her head. Legs spread very wide by a spreader bar, she continued to prepare herself for the proposed flogging. Her favourite implement, guaranteed to drive her to an orgasm.
The leather tails descended rhythmically as Jason swung the flogger across her body in a figure eight pattern. Gemma visualised streams of numbers, turning them into a painting. Twos for the sky, fives for the trees, and sixes for the oceans—a swirl of colourful digits. She had a strange way of linking numbers to colours in her mind. A sensory ability she couldn’t explain to others. The breathing exercises helped until Jason, with a devious smile, covered her mouth with a ball gag.
She trembled with pain and exhilaration and tried to anticipate what was coming next. Was he going to fuck her while she hung from the ceiling?
“Open your eyes, Gemma. On me!” Jason coaxed. “Come on. You have been begging all afternoon for an orgasm. Nothing to stop you now.”
Blinking, she found a naked Jason directly in front of her, tossing the flogger around in his hands. His bronzed body relaxed in posture. He clutched his lubricated cock in his other hand, stroking the tip, waiting patiently for her to orgasm, his face calm and almost malevolent in nature, as if her pain was necessary for him. Gemma wanted to and didn’t want to come—a mess of emotional contradictions filled her head. Not just the much-needed orgasm. She was to dance in a club that night. The mesmerising image of dancing for him became her catalyst. Her jiving, gyrating body, swirling about while he watched from the side. Captivated by her hold over him.
I’m coming!
Over and over, the waves travelled out from her loins, her pulsating clitoris, sweeping across her breasts, and into the neurons of her brain. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she fought to stay conscious.
She went in a matter of seconds from an intensely physical orgasm straight into the euphoric bliss of subspace. Released from their bindings, her freed legs enabled him to thrust deep inside her, and she shrieked in her stupor, eyes bouncing back to life. From tip to hilt, he drove on and off her and his hands gripping her waist.
“Again, baby. Come again for me!”
His passionate voice filled her ears. The one she found the most erotic and she couldn’t ignore. His thumb rubbed above where he slipped in and out of her sopping sex hole. As she obeyed him and let another orgasm flood her body, he joined her. Enrique immediately untied her wrists and lowered Gemma carefully to the rug beneath her. With the dying embers of his erection, Jason continued to move inside her, making sure his seed planted deep inside her fertile body.
Spread-eagled and breathing hard, Gemma was content in her own world. Gone, her self-awareness and thoughts of decorum.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” she muttered.
His fingers explored her, squeezed her breasts and buttocks. She reached an orgasm one final time on the rug, stimulated by his hands frigging her hard while he pumped what little life he had in his cock back into her. Aftercare began immediately, as he caressed and soothed her, gradually bringing her back to an awareness of her body and mind. She had to admire Jason’s ability to retrieve her from the brink of oblivion.
Lying on the bed, she submitted to Jason’s traditionally post-scene inspection. He ran his fingers over tender skin. “Watching your or
gasms, quite spectacular. Very satisfying. A good fuck as well.”
He gave her a vigorous rub to help disperse the marks. She buried her head in a pillow, waiting for him to finish. He applied soothing arnica cream liberally over all of her blemishes.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Sir, because my clit has packed up her bags and gone for an extended break. No more coming from her.” She pointed between her legs.
Jason laughed. “Then I don’t have to worry about your sex drive while you frolic about tonight.” He cupped her hand on her sex.
“Seriously, I don’t think even you can get an orgasm out of me until tomorrow.”
“Even me. Interesting statement. Who else did you have in mind?” He poked her.
“Just a figure of speech.” She sighed, feeling him probe her interior. She’d dug her metaphorical hole deeper.
“I do like a challenge.” He grinned at her, and her eyes widened.
“No! Please, no. What could you possibly do to me to make me come?” She was sure she was beyond any sexual response with her body deflated and throbbing badly in places.
“Oh, I know exactly what will make you come,” he teased.
“I’m telling you I’m spent,” she said firmly.
“My dear, I’ve gotten orgasms out of girls in a worse state than you. Believe me.”
He knelt next to her and leant over her, his face fixed on hers. A faint, wicked smile formed on his face, like photograph developing in a dark room. She found him very imposing, and her breathing picked up in pace. His handsome naked body, irresistible. She had claimed nothing was happening inside her. A lie. Her brain couldn’t switch off her greedy sexual appetite.
She had to show resistance. The game required it. He would want her to hold back from him, add to the challenge. “Oh, no, you’re not going to prove a point with me.” She started to sit up, but he pushed her back down.
“Unfortunately, I’ve decided I will. Why are you giving me such ungrateful looks? I’m about to give you pleasure for nothing.” He parted her legs.
“Jason, what are you doing? Sir!” she shrieked as he started to lick her.
