***
“I see you used a computer to write this essay. I can’t criticise your handwriting or spelling.” Jason waved the sheets of paper in Gemma’s face.
“You didn’t specify handwritten, if I recall correctly,” she pointed out. She hadn’t wanted to fall into the trap of erroneous spelling or illegibility. In the past, it would have given him justification to spank her—not that Jason needed an overt reason—and she went along with the excuse because she enjoyed his playful spanking sessions.
“True. I don’t think I did. An oversight on my part.” He leafed through the pages. “There are no great surprises for me in what you have written. I wasn’t aware of noise being an issue during a spanking.”
“The baby has to start hearing at some stage in the pregnancy.” Gemma shrugged.
The evening sunlight shone through the window of Blythewood House’s study—Jason’s domain. Away from the brightness, he lounged in his favourite armchair and she knelt between his legs, her elbows resting on his thighs and her chin supported by her folded arms.
He scanned down the words. “You didn’t find out enough about oral sex.”
Oral? “Surely it’s not a problem as long as I’m not ill or feeling sick?” She didn’t think she had missed any salient points.
“Not fellatio, my dear, the other variety. Cunnilingus. Blowing into the vagina can create embolisms.”
Damn lawyer. So bloody typical, he should know more than her. After all the e-mails to Maggie Henderson, he’d turned out to be the fountain of knowledge. Why hadn’t he just written the bloody essay and saved her the humiliating conversations with the obstetrician! Gemma held her annoyance in check for a few seconds until it seeped out into peeved tightening of her lips.
He gave her a gentle pat. “How do you feel about going into the lair after finding all this out? Scared or willing?”
She’d anticipated his exercise was all about her reticence. He hadn’t applied his dominance every time they’d had sex. Her romantic pregnant brain craved the passion of lovemaking with its gentle seductive pace and tender words of love. Vanilla sex and keeping him in a Dominant mood during the bedtime sessions sated their desires, but nothing rough, anal, or the slightest bit kinky—no sensual toys or tying up.
Pulling together everything she’d learnt from her obstetrician, the Internet, and couple of books on pregnancy, she acknowledged that not only did she want to continue to have sex with Jason throughout, her research highlighted she missed the kinky side. He could control her, dominate with his voice and words, but she wanted the sensual play. The teasing, the arousal brought on from wearing a blindfold or having her wrists tied behind her back, and the vulnerability of being gagged.
Her biggest fear going forward: pain. Maggie Henderson’s comments about fear and hormone-driven emotional roller coasting filled Gemma’s mind with concern that she wouldn’t be able to enter the pleasure-pain arena. Whether he flogged her or tormented her, the anxiety remained she would freak out.
When they had talked about pregnancy, Jason had been the one to imply he would wait until after the baby was born. Could she wait though?
“I want to play. Do scenes.” She paused, cleared her throat. “I trust you know what you’re doing, that your research is thorough, too. I have a problem with pain: the emotional aspects of handling pain. I don’t think I can do any S&M stuff.”
Jason tos
sed her essay on to the nearby table. He cupped her face, his showing no displeasure at her concerns.
“I think the fear of pain is in your head. As long as I know how far to go, I can keep within your boundaries. Nothing shocking or harsh. A level of pleasurable pain your little masochistic brain can process for you. Communication and safe-words will be critical. Lots of yellow and mercies are fine. Reds, too. Okay?”
He palmed one of her breasts. “Jeez, your boobies are growing!”
“I’ve already gone up one cup size. Didn’t you notice my new bra collection?” she huffed.
She’d spent a fortune in a lingerie department trying out different styles only to have the assistant tell her she would be back throughout her pregnancy for ever-increasing sizes.
“Some of it. I suppose you’re going to empty my coffers on maternity clothes, too.” He grinned and she smiled back, smothering a giggle. His coffers had no bottom, from her perspective. “The lair? You haven’t answered me.”
She inhaled, imagining her naked form lying on the four-poster in the lair, her baby bump, and Jason caressing her…. “Yes. Take me in there. But if I burst into tears and go all hormonal, you’ve been warned.”
His exuberant face was all she wanted to see at that moment. He beamed, white teeth glinting. A very happy Dominant. Her pleasure was seeing his, and she reciprocated his joy by kissing his knuckles.
They returned to the lair that Friday evening. No gag. Jason wanted to keep the communication channels open.
“Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
He tied her wrists to a bedpost and she knelt on the mattress while he tickled her back with the pinwheel. His choice of toy highlighted the critical element in their play remained trust. He ran it over her bottom a few times. She gasped in delight. At each pass of the prickling pins, she held her breath. When he glided the wheel between her buttock cheeks, she froze. In the silence, her heartbeats turned into kettledrums, thumping hard in her ears.
“Good girl.”
She relished the compliment, but she’d little time to process his words. Cold lubricant smeared her pussy entrance, followed by a slow penetration, the friction barely discernible as he slid back and forth. He didn’t go all out, but neither did he hold back with the depth. Her breasts shook, swaying unhindered. When the pain in her tits became too much, she hollered. Sensing her struggle, he reached forward and cupped them, supporting them in tandem with his rocking movements.