Gemma went to make phone calls: her brother and mother. Visits by family members filled their leisure time over the first year of Joshua’s life. Voracious siblings, aunts and uncles, grandparents and lesser cousins ate away precious time. Friends, too. Trudy and Greg paid a few visits with helpful parental advice. Zumba classmate, Mina occasionally called in after her working day to see Gemma, exchanging gossip about mutual friends. Along with Jason’s trips abroad and other social events on his calendar, she felt their time belonged to others.
“Philip has suggested we take a break, a holiday,” Jason announced over an evening meal, referring to his second-in-command. “We’ve not been anywhere since the cruise.”
Not entirely true. “When I was pregnant, we had weekend breaks at your swish hotels. Then there was the trip to Amsterdam.” Interesting sex shops, which had entertained her with their window displays. “Don’t forget Bruges. You enjoyed the beer.”
“A family break, then. Less beer, more child centric. Plenty to visit in Europe; we don’t have to go far.”
His lack of enthusiasm for travel reflected the long hours he spent on planes. She understood his desire to stay relatively local. “Not important what we do, really, when you think about it. Joshua doesn’t care where he is as long as he’s fed and changed regularly.”
Jason nodded.
She plucked up the courage to speak her mind. “Personally, I just think Philip wants a break from you. The whole company does, in fact.” She waited for the snarky response.
He smirked. “I don’t doubt it. I have been raising the bar a lot recently.”
“Wherever we go, I want to be pampered. Spa hotel. You can bond with Joshua while I drift in a state of bliss.”
Jason guffawed. “You’re spoilt rotten already.” He scratched his chin, the evening bristles beginning to show. “Berlin. I’ve been there on business trips.”
Gemma held in check a sense of disappointment. She’d preferred Prague, or something warmer like Madrid. “Berlin? Isn’t that a tad boring?”
“Lots of history. Art galleries, too, I wouldn’t wonder. Language isn’t a barrier.” His fluency in German, along with the blond hair, meant Jason often was mistaken for a native.
“I’ll ruin the illusion. The moment I open my mouth to speak, you’ll be condemned as a foreigner.”
“Berlin it is then.” A big grin formed on his face. “Teach you only to open your mouth for me.”
A week in Berlin turned out to be a low-key event, unlike their previous holidays. Jason delivered the luxury spa hotel, as requested, and Joshua adapted to the change in scenery. Having the child back in their bedroom changed the nature of their pleasure seeking. Sex often ended up being a romp in the adjoining living space. Nothing raucous or kinky. However, Jason remained firmly in control, and she maintained her submissive qualities—demure, respectful, and available. When not engaged in erotic acts, she sought to read, play quiet card games, or listen to background music on the iPod player. If he asked her to get naked, she complied without baulking.
Towards the end of their week’s stay, she floated in a wonderful, submissive place, not through sex or overt controlling actions on Jason’s part, but because she focussed on him and his lead. She sat on the floor, unless he wanted her next to him on the sofa for a cuddle. The cushion pile, which appeared on the floor of the living room, must have bemused the chambermaid, who tidied them back onto the furniture each day. Gemma called him Sir or Master for all of their waking moments. The words rolled off her tongue with ease.
Each time she showed him respect, a gentle look of gratification appeared on his face—a smile, a twinkle in his eyes, or, sometimes, he reached over and squeezed her hand. Her Dominant’s display of appreciation served to deepen her submission each day.
The stillness in the week, the lack of fuss or bother about anything, even the absence of scenes or any form of excessive play, suited their needs perfectly. Untroubled by visitors, work, or routine chores, they outwardly appeared a charming family unit. A total contrast to their previous holidays, where they were markedly engaged in bondage or discipline scenes. In Berlin, Jason didn’t push her limits or try out new scenes. She strived to steer away from disobedience or ugly displays of sulking or petulance, which had often marred the beginnings of their more kinky vacations.
“Why has this been so easy, Sir?” she pondered. Sitting cross-legged at Jason’s feet, she’d been massaging the soles. They’d spent the day walking around museums. Her idea of fun. Tomorrow, he wanted to go to a golf course.
“What are you talking about?”
“Being submissive. I mean, usually you have to help get me there. Curtail my sassy side with a few attitude adjustments.” A subtle reference to his need to spank her into obedience.
He shifted in his seat. “You’re my full-time submissive. Intense scenes aren’t necessary, I don’t think, for me, anyway. I’m pleased with how you are with me.”
“Your dominance has been very consistent this week. I don’t think you ever switch it off, but it didn’t seem to grate me or cause me to question your control. Kind of mellow, don’t you think, Sir?”
She realised they had taken a holiday from more than his working life. The protocols remained, but the kink, the overt interactions of domination and submission had been left behind.
What remained? Simple acts of submission and low-level, almost underplayed, moments of control by Jason. The choice of food, where they visited, or how they entertained Joshua—Jason handled the issues, and Gemma made the odd suggestions, which he agreed to as appropriate.
The final evening, after a delightful day where Jason experienced a new golf course and Gemma visited art galleries with Joshua, they dined in the suite, as usual. After switching the television off, he bent forward to where she lounged at his feet, playing solitaire with her freshl
y painted nails glimmering in the light.
He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Take your clothes off, Gem,” he said with a husky tone.
Her skin tingled, and the cards slipped out of her hands, tumbling onto the small coffee table. She wanted to taste his voice, perhaps it would resemble a supreme soufflé dish or caviar. Something exquisitely delicious and mouth-watering.
She took her time undressing, wriggling her hips, jutting her breasts out, and sliding her clothes off before neatly piling them on a chair. Knelt back down, she presented her body to him in the classic submissive pose of waiting. Legs slightly parted, hands resting palm up on her thighs, and staring straight ahead. A pose that caused a conflict of emotion. Willing and ready, but, at the same time, filled with trepidation.