“Yes, you’ve guessed. An additional feature required only by me, the owner. It disappears when chartered.”
Jason retrieved a remote from the bedside cabinet.
He pressed one button, and blinds sheathed the windows, casting the room into semi-darkness. Another button and the lights came up gradually. Then the ceiling compartment slid open to reveal a ring and pulley.
“I told you I was going to string you up, didn’t I?” Jason tapped the table. “Tucked away in this room is a padded top for this. So don’t worry about the glass.”
The remote activated and everything returned to normal lighting and style.
Gemma gulped and stood nervously, tapping a foot repeatedly. Enrique and Maria arrived with their luggage and Esteban with a tray of refreshments.
“We will have the food on the sundeck, please,” announced Jason.
He led her up the stairs to the flybridge, complete with a mast arch in the centre to cover the bar and yet another dining table. A cascading pool to the aft with sun loungers and, to the bow, a large lounger. It resembled a bed: square shaped and sheltered by a fixed white canopy draped over it like a tent and anchored with poles.
“It can get hot out on the ocean. This keeps the sun off all day.” Jason settled on the lounger, and Gemma lay down next to him.
Her heart thumped with excitement.
“All this space, just for us,” she marvelled. “I can’t get my head around it.”
Enrique appeared with the tray of refreshments and laid it on a low table next to lounger.
Jason nodded in dismissal. “Thank you. We won’t need anything else for now.”
Enrique retreated.
“Grapes, bread?” Jason asked. “The Spanish eat late. It will be a while before we have to leave for dinner.”
Gemma dined on bread and salami, quaffing the fresh orange juice. She examined the surroundings, twisting about while popping grapes into her mouth. The lounger reminded her of a four-poster bed, the kind Jason favoured in his dungeon.
“This is a fuck pad for you, isn’t it?” she blurted. “The canopy, the seclusion.”
“We’re not exactly overlooked up here, Gem. Until we’re at sea, anyway. Yes, the canopy provides shelter from the sun. But you’ve guessed correctly. An innocuous arrangement to a charter guest, not to us—the support poles come in very useful. Speaking of the sun, make sure you use plenty of lotion. On this deck, you bathe nude. I don’t want any of those white strap marks or a pale arse on you. Nice and even all over. Don’t overdo it though.” He slapped her bottom as she lounged on her belly. “I don’t want a bronzed goddess. A golden tan will do.”
“Do I get a bronzed god?” She sniggered.
“You’ll get what you’re given. As usual,” he replied with another hard slap.
She didn’t mind. At that moment, only one thing occupied her mind. Sex. Driven by her insatiable libido, she was soaked below. Uncomfortable in her long shorts, she crossed her legs to give herself relief and rested her head on her arms. She would have to wait until they were at sea before they could use the lounger. The bustle and noise of the marina reminded her they were not alone.
Jason prodded her. “Let’s get below before we turn into a peep show.”
She agreed, and they returned to the stateroom to unpack. While Gemma broke the ice with Maria by discussing matching outfits and garments, Jason showed Enrique the contents of one holdall.
Chapter 4. Summons
Enrique grinned at the collection. “A fine selection,” he commented. “And the rope is of good quality. Not that I expect you to use anything else.” He ran his hand down the fibres.
“Find a home for this lot, Enrique. A locked drawer. I don’t want my wife to know what I have in store for her. She may not like surprises; however, I like watching her response.” Jason patted him on the back.
Jason made his way to the office and began linking his laptop and other devices to the vessel’s Internet connections. He leant back in his chair and waited for the devices to boot and attempt to talk to each other.
His hand drifted to his crotch. There had been movement down there earlier; he had felt it lying next to Gemma on the flybridge. He couldn’t fail to notice her crossed legs and fidgeting hips. So desperate for sex, she had to comment about the hidden on-board facilities he had specified and fitted when he’d purchased the yacht. That night, they would dine out, and she would be stuffed with food and fatigued by the late hour. He would keep her waiting until the next day. Simply seeing the error messages on his laptop monitor suppressed his desires. There would be a period of frustration while he kicked his computer into action. She would have to learn patience.
Gemma had tested Jason in the car on the way over from the airport. Her silly remark about a handmaiden had riled him. Not the word itself. It had come off the top of her head, a throw-away term. What bothered him was her fretting about the presence of Enrique and Maria and their role as servants. She doubted the definition, and she had every reason to wonder at their presence.
The Mexicans were a kinky couple like them, and Gemma suspected Enrique and Maria would be doing more than laying out their clothes and serving food. His wife wouldn’t be forced to do anything she didn’t wish to do. If, however, she kindled it, nurtured, and acknowledged the liking, then Jason would let her. No man might have sex with his wife, but he’d never had any issues with women using each other if they did it at his command and with him in control of the situation.