Judged by Him (8 page)

Jason lay under her, and she rested her body astride him, his hip bones on either side of her knees. Firm fingers pinched her waist, helping her position her body over his erection, and she slowly impaled herself on his stiff shaft. She gradually encased him entirely, sinking her flesh around him, stretching, grinding with the sense of friction. He groaned as she settled.

“Don’t move.”

With a cry of discomfort, Gemma felt her torso lunge forward. She understood what was happening. Each bound, melon-shaped breast was attached to the corner of the headboard, which creaked as she shifted. If she rocked forward, her pinioned arms behind her back caused her to lose her balance. If she leant back, the ropes held her breasts in place, stretching them out. The position kept her bolt upright and helpless.

“Now. Fuck me.”

Gemma swore into her gag. Her heart pounded up into her throat, more adrenaline saturated her body, and she put the invigorating effect to good use. She bounced up and down, swung her hips back and forth, squeezing his cock with a frantic display of hip gyrations and pussy clenches.

An exclamation of delight issued forth from below.

Breathe
. Gemma sucked air in through her nostrils and gave into the discomforts and pained tissue. She disconnected her body from her brain. Random thoughts of nothingness, abstract images of erotica, and her own sounds of exertion came crashing together. The palette mixed and endorphins kicked in. She went to her own world of escapism. She didn’t care who stood watching or that they were having sex on a luxurious yacht off the coast of Africa. Gemma entered the world of subspace.

She had a sensation of floating off the bed, as if the ropes propelled her up to the ceiling. Was she hallucinating behind her mask? What would her eyes have seen if they had been open? If she felt pain, she didn’t interpret it as such. She continued to rock back and forth in a monotonous motion. She had no idea if she imparted any useful stimulation for Jason. She kept going, knowing he lay beneath, controlling her, watching her jive and rock. She didn’t care about anything. Her mind vacated her corporeal being. If Gemma were driving a car, she would have crashed it in a matter of seconds.

***

“Señor!” Enrique gasped.

“Yes. I know.” Jason grabbed his wife’s waist, holding her steady.

Her head tilted back. Jason watched her for a minute, her rapid breathing and drooling mouth, deciding how long to leave her in this state.

A picture of bondage beauty. With her breasts pulsating and gloriously enlarged, shoulders twisted behind and arms straight back. His diva of pain and lust. Through his blood, adrenaline coursed, warming him. He wanted to linger in the mood before he had his orgasm and the sensation left his body. The power and strength of control he had over her intoxicated him. He wanted to wallow in the elixir of their session and lose himself in it.

His hands held her, helping her keep the rhythm. Together, they worked, and with each thrust, he journeyed towards his climax. Her feverish moans invited him to his conclusion.

“Oh, fuck!” yelled Jason as he achieved his orgasm with force, bucking up and down beneath her splayed pelvis. His chest muscles tightened, and his fingers squeezed her waist, pinching the skin between his fingers.

He allowed himself only a few minutes to enjoy its aftermath. His wife needed him. Gemma stood in danger of sustaining injury while lost in her trance, and she had to be brought back gently. Easing his dwindling cock from inside her, he manoeuvred from under her body and, with Enrique’s help, unbound her and removed the gag and blindfold, massaging her shoulders and wrists. Her eyes tightly shut, she seemed ignorant of their actions. Her breasts released, she let out a muted scream with the rush of blood circulating back around. Jason’s strong fingers alleviated her strained groin until Maria brought a bowl of warm water and bathed between the legs.

“Babe?” Jason whispered in Gemma’s ear. “Come back. You’ve been in your own world. You need to look at me.” His voice strident, commanding, and she opened her eyes.

“Ow!” She grimaced. “Oh, fuck. I don’t want t—” She struggled against him.

“Leave us,” he barked at the other two.

He held her tight, embraced and swathed about her aching body. She came down from her vacant place and began to regain her composure. She let him kiss her, his tongue gently caressing her sore flesh. He called her sweet things and, as they knotted their bodies about each other, he grew large and hard again. She held his shaft and licked.

“For you, babe.” His hand sought out and found her clitoris. This time she didn’t drift away but joined him a spiralling climax of passionate lovemaking. For the rest of the night, they slept, arms and legs intertwined.

***

Enrique and Maria left them on the disorderly bed to recover. Enrique had already composed the new picture in his mind. The graphic, cartoonish drawing of an anonymous, make-believe couple engaged in erotic bondage. Her breasts would be augmented to a mammoth size, her shoulders practically dislocated. Her skin covered in stripes and welts. His muscles would be bulging, hands plucking hard on the chains attached to her nipple clamps. His subscribers liked the exaggerated poses—the liberty he took with his pen and paints. Little did they know how close the picture was to reality.

Day Three

Gemma and Jason awoke late by their standards—eight a.m. They laughed at the messy bed with the scattered ropes still attached to the headboard.

She knelt on the bed, arms held out before her, palms up. Jason checked her over, tracing his finger along the route of the ropes. She suppressed a giggle; his gentle fingers tickled. The marks on her wrists had nearly faded. She didn’t have to worry about wearing long sleeves if they went out.

“Um. The marks here will take a while to go. A day, I should think.” He rubbed the ribs under one breast, and she felt a slight soreness.

Inspection complete, she stretched out on the bed, flexing her feet and toes. She wondered what he had planned for the day.

“Do you plan to fuck me, or
may
I bathe?” she asked.

His eyes flashed. “Yes, take a bath after breakfast. I’m hungry. Then you can have your massage, can’t you?” He arched a brow.

“Yes,
Sir.
” She saluted. Her mood remained buoyant following a good night’s sleep. Determined to stay invigorated, she bounced off the bed, pirouetting on her toes towards the bathroom, wriggling her bottom as she went.

“I think
that
deserves a small spanking, don’t you? Something for later.”

His laughter echoed about the room.

They ate breakfast aboard
Sublime
, away from the prying public. Gemma re-arranged the cutlery, straightening the fork and knife, aligning them neatly next to the place mat, checking with her thumb the distances between objects. Picking up the napkin, she unfolded it, shook it under the table then refolded as if she were playing at origami.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I feel restless after last night.”

“We’ll be walking around Ceuta’s market.” He sipped his thick black coffee with relish. “You went off with the fairies last night.”

“I assumed so. I don’t think I’ve been that deep before.”

“No lingering aftereffects? I didn’t let you go off for too long.”

“I’d no concept of time.” Her shoulders ached, and her breasts felt mildly tender, but, otherwise, she had no ill effects from the bondage. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Esteban approaching from the galley with fresh coffee.

Jason waited for the man to clear the empty plates from the dining table then continued. “Enrique believed I was edgeplaying with you. I had to placate him this morning. He thinks you weren’t up to it, that you’re too delicate for me.”

Enrique’s remarks ruffled Gemma’s pride. “If you take me to the edge, it will be fine by me,” she said, sticking her chin out.

Jason frowned. “We don’t edgeplay, Gemma. If you want to safe-word, you should. Don’t let me think otherwise,” he said sternly, blue eyes glowing.

She quickly backtracked. “I’m just saying I trust your judgement. I don’t want to edgeplay. It’s not necessary for us.”

“Good. The morning is warming up, and I want to lunch out.” He pulled back her chair, took her elbow, and drew her into his arms. “Bath. Massage. Go. Hurry.” He pecked at her lips after each word. As she turned to leave, her bottom caught a slap. A hard one, she noted. A reminder of what he had mentioned earlier.

After her bath, she descended to the main deck, took a deep breath and entered the beauty treatment room. No Maria. Only Jason sitting in the solitary chair. She walked past the massage table, stood before him with hands clasped behind her back.

Jason raised his eyebrows. “Should you be dressed?”

Slipping out of her clothes, she nearly rolled her eyes at him when he patted his lap. She wanted to resist a little, show him some sass, but daren’t. Something about his pose, the stern expression, and the finger drumming on the armrest stopped her. Her pussy clenched instantly as she lowered her hips over him. He adjusted her position, trailed a finger down the crack of her buttock cheeks, and gave her bud a tickle. Gemma wriggled appreciatively. The gentle prelude ended with the first smack of his hand on her bottom.

The spanking remained erotically charged throughout. His fingers teased her sensitive parts between firm slaps of his hand. A tickle of anus, a pinched of her labia, or a grab of her fleshy buttocks. After a warm-up over his lap, she stretched out on the massage table with a pillow under her hips.

Jason took advantage of various items lying around the room. Opening cupboard doors and drawers, he rummaged about while she propped her head on an elbow, filled with a sense of trepidation at what he might find. A plastic spatula and a wooden hairbrush. He alternated, whacking for a few smacks with one before switching to another. She squirmed, baulking at the stinging spatula. He rested a hand on her lower back, holding her steady. Burying her head in her arms, she absorbed the firm strikes of the hairbrush and relished the kinder strokes of his hand, which moved across her burning cheeks, tempering the pain.

Returning from a trip to the bathroom, she halted on her tiptoes. Another woman had arrived with Maria, who was speaking softly to Jason.

I’m naked with a red bottom
! Gemma took a step backwards, trying to retreat into the bathroom. Jason wandered to her and draped a bathrobe around her shoulders.

“You could have warned me we had a guest!” she hissed.

The other woman addressed Maria in rapid Spanish as they moved to the worktop in the corner of the room that housed the cupboards and storage. Jason led Gemma to meet the newcomer.

“Gemma, this is Margarita. A local who has come on board to help Maria.”

“Señora Lucas, hello,” said Maria’s companion in a thick Spanish accent.

The woman stirred a bowl of thick amber paste.

“Henna,” explained Jason. “Margarita is going to help Maria paint your skin with the dye. The pair of them will work quicker than Maria on her own. They’re going to paint the back of your hands, your feet, your breasts.” Jason grinned. “And here,” he rubbed her lower back, the point of her coccyx.

Gemma stared at him in disbelief. Jason generally frowned upon tattoos. Permanent tattoos. Henna would be temporary, something he tolerated. She couldn’t think of a suitable defensive argument, and his triumphant bearing of his teeth told her he knew she couldn’t. He owned her body for the duration and could do as he wished, as long as he didn’t permanently mark her.

“I’ll leave you to it. I look forward to seeing you painted for me. I’ll be in my study.” Jason strolled out of the room.

Gemma huffed for a few minutes, fingering the backs of her hands, wondering if he would embarrass her with something artistically ghastly or worse still, vulgar terms like she’d seen on some subs. Then she sighed. Her worries were unnecessary. Jason, vain and self-conscious about his appearance, wouldn’t embarrass her by adorning her with slutty words. “What design?”

Maria wagged a finger. “You will see. Señor Lucas chose.”

“Great.” She scowled. Why all the secrets? He had kept the route of cruise from her, the name of the yacht, and now her secretive Dom had designed some motif for her tattoo. She’d learnt not to complain. Jason wouldn’t change his nature, not fundamentally. He liked keeping secrets so he could surprise her. “Where do you want me?”

“Lie down and relax, señora. I’ll put music on for you. We do your feet and hands first.” Maria patted the massage table and Gemma climbed up, resigned to her situation.

The women jabbered away in Spanish, laughing one minute and serious the next. Gemma felt sidelined. She missed gossiping with her female friends. Hearing their laughter made her envious. She turned her face away from them.

Maria briefly put a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. How ungracious of us to speak in Spanish.”

“Teach me a few words since I’m lying here bored.” Gemma turned her head back.

For the rest of the morning, two applicator tips drew patterns on her skin while she learnt a little Spanish to the merriment of the other women. She blushed and squeezed her eyes shut when they drew back the robe to do her breasts, ashamed at the intimacy of the stranger.

“How long will this stain remain on my skin?” Gemma asked.

“Oh, not long. The dye has not penetrated for long enough to last more than a few weeks. Probably by the end of your cruise, it will start to disappear. But the suntan will linger.”

“Suntan?”

“Yes. The pattern will show up in your suntan. Pretty, yes?”

Maria led her to the mirror, and Gemma admired their work, the delicate details on the backs of her hands and on her breasts. Twisting, she tried to see the tattoo on her back. Maria held a hand mirror to one side, enabling Gemma to catch sight of the small loops. She recognised the motif they had drawn over her skin. Jason would be pleased.

But with the clock showing noon, no time remained for her massage. Jason wanted to take her to lunch. She went to find him. Sitting at his desk, typing away, he looked up and gleefully slapped his hand on the table. “Show me.” He signalled her to come closer.