Judged by Him (7 page)

Esteban appeared behind him. “The captain reports we are about to pass the Rock and the Straits.”

“Thank you, Esteban. Could you bring coffee to the flybridge? We’ll take in the scenery from up there.” Jason stood and held out his hand.

Gemma allowed his warm fingers to wrap about hers. Their little play of board games had been enjoyable and confirmed Jason was a quick learner. She perhaps would reward him with a present. She hoped the opportunity would arise in the coming weeks to make a purchase.

“Let us go to the sundeck to see the scenery.” He led her away.

***

“I want to swim,” stated Gemma as they moved away from the Spanish coast towards Africa.

Jason put down the binoculars. “That should be,
may I
go for a swim, and no, you may not. You can go below and take off your clothes. Wait for me in my stateroom in a suitable pose, something that will please me. I have expectations.”

He changed the inflection in his voice—easy to do—as if he triggered an internal switch. Her backgammon buddy and tour guide had gone; her master had returned.

Gemma hesitated long enough for him to fold his arms across his chest and give her a hard blue stare. Why did she risk annoying him? The wind caught the hem of her dress, and her firm breasts lifted as she inhaled.

While she had explained the rules of backgammon, he had listened attentively and given her a smile of appreciation. Since he had beaten her at that game, he had wanted her beneath him, playing another.

He beheld her gorgeous figure attired in a skimpy summer dress, braless, hair flowing in the breeze. Her skin slowly tanning even after one day and her green eyes dazzling. Jason formulated plans for her delightful mammary glands. In the evening, off the coast of Africa, he would surprise her.

As they’d sailed past the Rock, his own hardness had become rock-like. Standing behind her, as she had leant over the railing watching the waves below, he had wanted to lift her dress and penetrate her flesh there and then. However, he had promised to show her the best sights, and he had to wait for them to pass Gibraltar.

With the sightseeing opportunity over and the afternoon drawing to a close, for the first time since they had boarded
Sublime
, he intended to play with her fully.

He moved a fraction towards her, and her seconds of hesitation were over. She left and headed down to the stateroom.

***

Gemma hovered in her bathroom, nervously fingering her hair and staring at her reflection in the mirror when Maria arrived and touched her arm.

“Can I help prepare you?” she murmured

“My hair.... I should bind it back for him.” Gemma picked up a brush.

“May I braid it?” Maria suggested.

“Please.”

Gemma waited patiently for her hair to be plaited and tied back. She allowed Maria to lead her back into the stateroom and undress her Naked, Gemma took her position by an armchair and knelt, head bowed and legs slightly parted.

“He will be so pleased with you, señora. You’re so beautiful. Let him enjoy you and find his pleasure in you. Forget everything and be his.” Maria’s words calmed her, and she settled herself to wait for him.

When Jason and Enrique joined them, Enrique offered to undress him, too, but Jason declined. “I don’t require you this time, Enrique. When
Sublime
comes to dock at the Marina, knock on the door, don’t enter.”

Maria and Enrique withdrew.

Jason tugged her braid. “This is pretty. I like it,” he commented, continuing to circle Gemma. “Did Maria do it for you?”

“Yes, Master.”

“She can do it every day. Kneel on the bed. Face the windows. You can watch us arrive in Ceuta.”

He fit snugly behind her. His erection pressed into her lower back. She started to bend forward to offer herself to him.

“I didn’t ask you do that,” he said quietly. “Lean back and keep your knees apart.”

Taking her neck with his hand, fingers pressed under her chin, he drew her to his chest. His other hand found her sex, and with slow, circular movements, he began to stimulate her clitoris. Faster and faster his fingers worked, seeking out the small organ and exposing it to his invigorating touch.

She moaned, and he kissed her shoulder, nibbling on her skin. He drove her, steered her towards an inevitable climax. Jason had given Gemma the freedom to orgasm as she wished, but she had no control over his desire to force her to come for him. A victim of her own voracious sex drive, she needed only minutes of stimulation to bring her close to completion.

“Tell me when you start coming,” he whispered into her ear.

She twisted and writhed against his firm body; muscles stretched and flexed, as she warmed up. As she tilted, he eased her farther, arching her back over his leg. Shifting his restraining arm, he pinned her down, pushing on her chest. Throughout, the tips of his fingers continued to excite her sex.

Gemma paid no heed to the view out of the window, the dimming sky and the lights of Ceuta growing closer and brighter.

“I’m coming.” Her voice trembled.

A small rhythmic spasm began at the tip of her clitoris, and she concentrated on the actions of his hand to help her deliver her climax. As she came, Jason removed his fingers, raised his palm, and slapped her straight on her excited sex organ. His other hand smothered her cries as he spanked her. Teasing, sharp smacks, delivered with no relief between blows.

Gemma disappeared into the throes of one of the most painful and exquisite climaxes of her life. Direct pain drove her nervous system wild with confused sensations. She had thought, with the first blow, he had scuppered her climax, effectively denying her the lasting sensation that made those orgasms so special and rewarding. Instead, it rippled on and on. As she started to shake violently, he stopped the blows and released her mouth. She moaned and twisted around onto her belly. Jason stroked her back as she struggled to determine the end of her orgasm.

Eventually, her body calmed, and it all came to strange post-coital end. For a few seconds, she fell asleep.

Waking, she curled up on her side and wiped her nose.

“Gemma?” He forced her face to one side. A solitary tear trickled down her face, wetting her cheekbone.

“Why?” she asked.

“Your orgasms are mine. You may choose to come, but I will control them for my own purpose. If I wish to ruin them, then I shall. Pain or pleasure is mine to choose. Now, be honest. Was that not an incredible orgasm I gave you?” He lay next to her.

The tear was there for a clear reason in her mind, the part that didn’t always submit rebelled and kept reminding herself not to be a victim, not to be a hostage to her body’s needs.

“Gemma?”

“I loved the orgasm, but I’m hating myself for it.” She shuddered slightly.

“Babe?” He ran his finger down the side of her face and wiped away the tear. “I want you to thrive on what I can do to your body. The pleasure you take from being controlled, not necessarily the pain. Such a thrill for me, knowing you can take what I throw at you and still send yourself into your own world of submissive ecstasy and pleasure.”

Examining the crumpled sheets of the bed, Gemma pondered, letting his words sink into her mind. “I’m a masochist. I get high on pain. That is what you are telling me.”

“Gem, why do you keep denying this to yourself? We’ve had this conversation many times, and yet, you are surprised every time I push you further and you continue to respond. I will make you a divine masochist, Gemma. A pain slut. A perfect match for me. The Dom and sub part nurtures us, the sadomasochism makes us complete. I’m not saying we should engage in more depraved sex or change our limits. They are as they should be. I’m not going back to where I came from. What we have available to us is sufficient. Yes?”

Gemma snuggled into his chest, and he kissed her hair.

“I love this braid, baby.”

His diminished erection twitched against her thigh.

“I ruined your fuck,” she said meekly. “I’m sorry. I’m ready for you, Sir. I’m yours, always yours.” She kissed his neck, where the collarbones met. “Fuck me hard, Master. Please fuck me.”

Grabbing her braid, he pulled her up onto her knees and rose to face her. His eyes pierced hers, and she dropped her own.

“Slaves don’t get to ask, do they?” He began playfully but, as he spoke, the stern tone returned. “I will fuck you hard, my needy one. I reckon we have half an hour before reaching the marina. Half an hour of fucking you senseless.”

A world rapidly approaching through their windows, lights brightening, drawing closer. He reached for the remote control and entombed them from the outside world.

“Are you ready for your Master now? No more thinking of yourself. You will forget your concerns, your impediments to my pleasure, yes? You are my slave, my collection of fuckholes, my masochist to torment, and my submissive to control. Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered, and she immediately complied. His words of domination were all it took to bring her back to him, to be his and give herself wholly.

Rough, passionate, and varied positions of sex. For half an hour, she kept her mouth shut save for her moans and pants. After he had delved into her body, he achieved his eager ejaculation over her breasts. When he had finished, he left her to bathe himself.

The scent of soap, drifting out of the bathroom, awoke Gemma from her torpor, and she stumbled into hers to shower in tepid water. Maria dried her hair, re-braiding it, and clothed her in a long summer dress of white.

***

Gemma joined Jason on the main deck, where he watched the crew tying the yacht to their slot on the marina jetty. A few had gathered to watch the arrival of
Sublime,
and Gemma waved at the strange faces. Relaxed and happy, she snuggled up to him, and he drew her closer. Such fantastic, kinky sex he had given her.

“Let’s dine,” said Jason. “See what Dario has to offer us this evening. We’ll visit the sights of Ceuta tomorrow.”

They dined alone in the cavernous dining salon on a mixture of Spanish and Moroccan flavours. New tastes and textures for Gemma and Jason to experience. She pulled a face at the lentil soup, nibbled on the kefta meatballs, and filled her stomach with flatbread. She moaned about the dishes being too exotic and aromatic. Jason pursed his lips when she mentioned her reticence about new foods. She stopped complaining.

At night, the yacht lit up with bright illuminations—a palace of light and glitter. After dinner, Gemma, for a while, wandered about the yacht, exploring the changes in light and shadows. The colours and smooth coolness of the decor. Soon she would ready to start painting. It was only a matter of time before she succumbed to the lure of brush and paper. She simply had to choose the first picture.

When Jason had excused himself from her company after dessert, he had suggested she write a postcard to her parents. Send one from every port they visited. During her wanderings, she found the stationary pack in the salon of the main deck had a selection of postcards with pictures of the exterior and interior of
Sublime
. She picked one showing their stateroom and the exterior lit up at night. Her parents only knew she’d had gone on a Mediterranean cruise on their private yacht. As Jason had kept Gemma in the dark, she did the same with her parents. They would never know about the kink.

***

Gemma rested her waist against the stern railings, staring out into the darkness, lost in her own thoughts. She framed countless drawings in her imagination, each one a version of the blue, cloudless sky and the reflection of the sun in the sea. Did she want to paint her first picture with watercolours or acrylics? A finger lightly tapped her shoulder. She jumped, snapped out of her daydreams.

“Señora? Señor Lucas sent me to find you.” Maria cocked her head towards the bow.

Gemma deposited her wine glass on the bar as she made her way to the stairwell. Maria punched the keypad, and the women ascended to the upper deck and the stateroom. Sitting in an armchair, with legs crossed and hands behind his head, waited Jason. Behind him stood Enrique, arms folded across his chest. Gemma couldn’t help but notice the bundles of rope on the bed.

“Please strip her, Maria.”

The window blinds lowered and the soft lights activated. Gemma stood dutifully before her husband while her maid removed her clothes efficiently and quickly.

“Kneel on the bed facing away from me.”

Gemma took up her position. Glancing to her left, she watched in a mirror as Enrique received Jason’s clothes: his immaculate trousers and white shirt, underpants and wristwatch. She couldn’t take her eyes off her husband. Seeing him naked immediately excited her. Fingers trembled on her lap, and her scalp tingled with invisible electricity. Caught in the act of spying, she heard him clear his throat. Quickly, she looked away and then spotted the additional ropes. Two sets dangling down from the corners of the headboard, waiting to be attached to her in some fashion. Another rush of adrenaline flooded her body. She needed to stay on top of her nerves or else she would be overwhelmed.

Jason took her breasts in his hands, cupping each warm pool of flesh. He caressed them with his fingertips until she let out a tiny moan then drew her arms behind her and bound her wrists together. Jason continued coiling the rope around her wrists, reaching nearly halfway up her elbow. Trussed with ropes about her upper arms, forcing her to bunch her shoulders behind her back, making them taut and nearly painful.

Teeth gritted, Gemma remained impassive as Jason, who, with Enrique’s assistance, bound her breasts. First, as if cocooned in a bra, they were roped above and under, pressing against her ribcage. Then they looped rope around each breast. Her soft tissues squeezed out into swollen red balls, throbbing with blood. Her cleavage accentuated and her nipples purple and rigid.

Jason gagged her. “Don’t panic. I’m right with you. I can see your face. Remember your gestures?”

Gemma nodded. A blindfold slipped over her eyes. She was well aware both Maria and Enrique watched, their presence necessary as Jason would only undertake this kind of bondage with a monitor.