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“Oh, I’m sorry,” she chortled as Gemma stood stony faced, rather stunned by her response. “But don’t you find it all a bit quaint and unreal. A modern mum and all that.”
“Modern?” Gemma considered her response. “Well, no. I’m not modern. I’m generally old-fashioned, I suppose. Do as I’m told and accept the consequences if I screw up.”
“Everything else about your lives is open and real. Don’t you think it’s all a bit unnecessary?” Clara handed her the bowl of food then strapped the wriggling Joshua down in his high chair. He immediately squawked as if she planned to take the bowl away.
“Settle down, Joshie.” She began to spoon the puree into his eager mouth. “To be honest, it’s the only lifestyle I’ve ever known. From the time I finished university, I’ve been somebody’s submissive. I don’t want to live differently. I’m quite content. The sore bum I have is a rarity. He doesn’t enjoy doing it and, by the weekend, he will be affectionate to me again.”
“Still. It’s odd that you want to live like this. At his beck and call.”
“Mainly for sex. And he is very good at it!” The familiar bloom of heat rushed to her cheeks. The spoon hovered before Joshua’s lips and, with her back towards Clara, it made talking easier. “If all I experienced was bad and unpleasant, I wouldn’t put up with it. I know what it’s like when it goes wrong. I’ve learnt that lesson. It is a mutually beneficial relationship. I’m well taken care of by my husband; I’m protected, and Jason is generous. I don’t want another way of living. I asked for this, not him. He would have taken a watered-down version. In fact, that is how we lived for the most part until Joshua came along.”
Joshua made a mess of the food, with lumps oozing out his mouth into the bib. “Am I doing this right?” Gemma sighed.
“Oh. He’s going to be a playful young man. Lead you on a merry dance.”
“Just like his dad, then. Playful.”
Gemma smiled, and Clara didn’t mention her chosen way of life again. On the positive side, she realised Clara wasn’t stuck up, nor was her coarse language offensive to the older woman. From then on, they both relaxed in their language and, if they were in the mood, they could be saucy about the world about them.
Chapter 15. Holiday
Another weekend loomed. Fully recovered from the previous week’s misadventure with the paddle, Gemma expected a different adventure, and she was proved right. On the Saturday, they were to visit Jason’s club for an evening’s entertainment. Clara, who’d agreed to babysit and stay the night at Blythewood, didn’t comment when Gemma appeared in a black corset, short skirt, and fishnet stockings. The satin-trimmed cape draped over her shoulders shimmered in the light.
“If you need us, Claude, the manager, will find us if you ring the club number,” Gemma said as they left Clara ensconced in the TV room with the baby monitor and an array of snacks.
Their regular playmate, Monique, wasn’t available, so Jason chose another club submissive to join them. Iselda, a twenty-five-year-old redhead, had been with the club for less than a year. A natural submissive, he’d been told—bisexual and versatile. Pretty, way too pretty. The moment Iselda stepped into the room, Gemma felt pangs of jealousy and tried hard not to compare her narrow waist and ample buttocks with her own.
She’d managed, over the years of visiting the club, to combat her concerns that Jason might be attracted to the club subs. Now that he permitted them to join their play, she constantly had to remind herself he didn’t touch them sexually. His chosen girl would have their hands and mouth all over Gemma, but not him. However, Iselda’s actions came close to Gemma’s limit of acceptability. Iselda gazed longingly at Jason’s handsome features until he gave her a verbal warning for disrespectful eyeballing. She failed abysmally to comply—his stark blue eyes fascinated most people. He decided to discipline her.
Their first scene with Iselda went well because Gemma wasn’t the one on the receiving end of Jason’s whip. Instead, she held a vibrator against Iselda while he lashed the other woman’s back. Iselda moaned enthusiastically, crushing her thighs together in the hope of staving off her orgasm. Jason warned Iselda
not to come, or he’d punish both of them.
The presence of another woman always created ambivalence in Gemma. Never quite the full ménage a trois, due to Jason’s hand’s-off approach, she’d become accustomed to his taste, which was to have within his control two submissives, encouraging them to tease and torment each other at his bidding. Gemma suspected that, in his past, before their relationship, Jason had been more sadistic in his group activities, probably involving other Dominants, too. His wild days had ended with Gemma’s arrival in his life. Tempered, contained, and no longer inclined to be a fervent sadist, Jason watched her explore a side of her submission she’d previously avoided: bisexuality.
Iselda managed to do as she was told, just. Jason left her on the brink of an orgasm then invited Iselda to join him in teasing Gemma. Moist lips and probing fingers explored her sensitive places in tandem, driving her wild. Jason was aggressive: he bit her inner thighs, pinched her buttocks, and slapped her pussy. Iselda—the gentle one—licked, kissed, and sucked her into a state of pleasure.
Gemma wriggled about on the chaise longue. “Please, may I come?”
“No.” Denial mode remained in operation since her paddling. She glowered for a second, before reminding herself what he had told her—he loved seeing her come for him. Him! She obviously wasn’t in the right frame of mind. She had to disown her orgasms.
Iselda knotted her limbs about Gemma, while Jason fucked. She loved the scene—wrapped between two hot bodies, oozing sexual deviancy and debauchery, at the very edge of acceptability. In the end, the granted orgasm seemed superfluous, just having Jason inside her fulfilled her needs. Poor Iselda, noted Gemma, never did receive her orgasm.
When they returned to the bar area, cleaned up and back in clothes, Iselda snuggled up against Gemma. A strange but comforting arrangement. The pair rested at Jason’s feet with Gemma between his legs and Iselda leaning against her. Jason slouched further down in his seat and drank a small measure of whisky. She could feel his engine purring. A very cheerful man.
Coming out of her blissful state, Gemma wanted to know more about the girl propped against her legs. Iselda turned out to be quite talkative and quick-witted. More interestingly, she was a qualified nursery nurse, who worked part time at a children’s day-care centre.
“Do you babysit?” asked Gemma.
A perfect ending to a perfect visit to the club. They’d found a highly suitable babysitter. Not only could she look after Joshua when they had to be out at the weekends, keeping Clara’s weekends free, she could monitor him while they disappeared into the lair in the evenings at Blythewood. The idea of his parents being on the premises but unavailable wasn’t odd to Iselda. She understood Jason and Gemma didn’t want to be interrupted mid-scene unless it was an emergency.
They gave her a tour of Blythewood the first time she came to babysit. “You lucky cow,” Iselda gasped when Gemma took her into the lair. “Why do you come to visit the club?” She wandered about the room, touching the furniture, admiring the ceiling pulleys and rings on the bed, clucking away like a happy hen.
Gemma stood by the doorway and grinned. “We do like company. Get out and about sometimes.”
The week after they discovered their new babysitter, Jason flew off to New York for a few days. Gemma suffered with serious withdrawal symptoms until he reappeared late Thursday morning at their London townhouse. She bounced around the house, waiting for him to walk through the door. She greeted him in the hallway. One of his extra-special lingering kisses with her back pinned against the wall. It told her all she needed to know. He wanted her, no waiting around for the evening.
His fingers lifted her skirt. Finding her bare flesh, free of underwear, he stroked his fingertips along her wet slit. She gasped and banged the back of her head against the wall.
