“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.