Page 101 of Sublime Trust

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She had nearly screwed up with her attempts at being bi-curious, she had had failed on many fronts in the nightclub and, instead of being excited about a meal out with Jason, she wallowed in negativity. Wet hair draped around her shoulders, she rested her head on her arms and leant on the dresser. Jason would accuse her of self-doubt, lack of self-esteem. In fact, she concluded that many words that commenced with the word “self” generated the negative attitudes spinning about in her head.

He rested her hands on her shoulders. She didn’t jump as she had heard him approach.

“Sit up, and I’ll dry your hair.” He brushed out the knots with long sweeps of the larger hairbrush.

“Let me play a different scenario for you. I don’t tell you I’m going to spank you, and we go to the restaurant. We have a great time, and we come back here. I tell you to strip and present. You spring tight like a coil, and when I spank you, it hurts like crazy because you’re tense. Tell me the scenario that is going to happen tonight. The one we have already started.” He picked up the hair dryer.

Gemma sighed. She knew his game; now he was playing her. She relayed what she believed would happen in the coming hours, watching his reaction in the mirror.

“Well, I start the evening feeling really pissed off with you because you’ve reminded me I’ve screwed up and need a jolly good spanking with whatever you’re going to have in your hand. I wallow in self-pity all the way to the restaurant until you discipline me, something short and sharp—”

“Do I? You’re feeling that negative about yourself?” He shook his head with despair.

“I’m afraid so. However, I’m trying to be optimistic. I think you’re going to take me somewhere different or special. I’m going to like the food and atmosphere. Maybe you might let me have a little alcohol. By the time we get back here, I will have accepted your choice of spanking implement. I’m hoping I will take my spanking well. Feel suitably submissive and glad you’re my Master. How did my scenario go?”

“I like the sound of it.” He ran his fingers through her drying hair. “How are the negative thoughts?” He gathered her hair back, pulling on the locks.

“Dispersing. Thank you, Sir.” She handed him a hair tie.

“Good because I would rather not have to discipline you in the back of the car again. I want to enjoy this meal, too.” He completed his hair-styling tasks. “Take heart from that. You’re hardly a failure as a submissive. Kneel here before me.”

She knelt naked at his feet. Dressed casually in black jeans and a pale blue polo shirt, which hugged his musculature, he had a confident swagger about his stance, more so than usual, or perhaps it was what she wanted to see in him. He held her in his blue gaze.

“Look at me. You’re beautiful. I will continue to discipline you, shape and mould you. You will accept because I ask you to. You will give yourself to me graciously and without fear.”

Cupid’s arrow had struck her heart yet again. He had found the right words for her as he always seemed to do. Overcome with the need to show her appreciation, her devotion, she lay flat before him in the position of surrender.

Another one of her first Master’s lessons stored in her memories, “Show your acceptance with your body, Gemma. If you can’t find the words, your body will do it for you.”

Chapter 32. Pleasing

Gemma’s backside blazed. The rest of her body shivered with a cold sensation, as if she had suddenly been plunged into icy waters.

A soothing hand stroked her head, a slow gentle movement from temple to neck. Gemma tried to concentrate hard on her husband and not the pain below, which had suddenly come alive again as if her senses had crash-landed back on earth. Jason’s roving hand came to rest on her lower back, keeping her still while he rubbed in the cooling lotion. His gentle words of placation oozed into her ears, helping her come out of her lost place.

Many things had gone according to Gemma’s description of the evening’s scenario. Not completely word perfect. She hadn’t left the yacht in a negative frame of mind. She hadn’t required a sharp disciplining in the Mercedes that drove them to his chosen restaurant. Her attitude had transformed following his little pep talk. She had been resolved to enjoy the meal and to show Jason she accepted his control over her.

***

The Bavarian restaurant cooked its food on big stone grills. Her kind of food: grilled meat, potato dumplings, and sticky sauces. Comfort food. It made her feel homey. For Jason, German beer.

Not the most glamorous of restaurants, but Gemma appreciated it had a genuine atmosphere and plenty of traditional Bavarian folk music and decorations. Jason’s beer arrived in a large litre beer mug, and the male staff wore lederhosen and the women white aprons with short, colourful waistcoats.

Dessert was apple strudel with vanilla sauce. “Mmmm. I love this.” Gemma licked her lips. “Perhaps we should have apple trees in the garden. An orchard maybe? I could make apple crumbles or pies.”

“Will there be any of the lawn left?” Jason gave a mock roll of his eyes.

“There is loads of space. Pear trees, perhaps along the wall. Cherry trees, too. I will talk to John. Find out what varieties would grow best.” She scraped her plate clean.

On the way to the restaurant, they had chatted amiably. The return journey to the yacht was quiet. Her hands ran nervously up and down her skirt, while her husband tracked the changing scenery outside his car window. Streetlights and passing vehicles held his attention, not his wife.

Entering the stateroom, Gemma undressed, slipping off each layer with tremulous fingers. Jason removed his shirt, baring his chest. The golden tan glowed under the halogen lights, and she warmed to his appearance. He fetched nothing. His bare hands held no ropes or implements. Enrique and Maria were absent. They were quite alone.

He waved a finger. “Come here,” he said softly.

Gemma approached, shuffling a little as she wondered where he would put her. Over the chair or the bed? He seated himself at the foot of the bed and tapped his lap with one finger. “Over.”

“Over the knee?” A small buzz hit her nervous system. Jason sought to spank her over his knee. The simplest and traditional approach to spanking, and still her preference, even if it seemed a little humiliating.


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