by Jaye Peaches
More limpet shells, and he lined them up on a rock. “Have you done a business plan, investigated the finances?”
“No. To be blunt, I’m not sure how to go about it. I can’t imagine what the work would entail, nor how to make money out of the business. To be honest, I don’t think I’m cut out for going it alone.”
Seagulls squawked above their heads, and the breeze dried their swimwear. Jason stared across the small bay to where Lubinsky and Ted waited on the boat, watching the tide and currents. He weighed up John’s situation, deciding how best to help him.
“If I gave you the advice, would you do it?”
John sat up straight. “Would you?”
“If not me, somebody else. I don’t want to waste my time if you’re going to chicken out, though.”
“Hell, no. I don’t give up on things, that’s not the problem. It’s getting started, bull by horns and going for it. Andrea has the stubbornness to see things through. I don’t want to rush, though.”
“Not suggesting that you do. Best-laid plans are never rushed.” Jason flicked the shells back into the pool. “If the business plan looks good and you need finances, come to me, not a bank. I can offer you better terms on investment.”
John put a hand to his chest as if to catch his breath. “Is this some kind of dragon’s den, my pitching to you?”
He laughed. “I hope I won’t have to put you through the grinder. Seriously, once the wedding is over and you’re a happily married man, formalise your ideas. Build contacts and networks, check out potential competitors and I’ll find you a good business advisor.”
“Jason, this would be great. Really helpful. I can’t wait to tell Andi!” John clapped his hands together and rubbed them gleefully.
“We should get back, then.”
Jason rose and waved at the speedboat. On the horizon, he could see Sublime catching up with them.
Chapter 16. Blindfolded
Normally, when she was blindfolded in the presence of Jason, the room would be deathly still. Gemma would hear his feet pitter-pattering about on the wooden floor and sometimes the sound of his subtle breathing. Recently, he had taken to humming under his breath—some arbitrary tune which had sprung into his head. She found the melodic sounds comforting, especially if she was nervous.
As he approached, she would smell him. His preferred brand of shower gel and shaving cream. The masculine, gentle scent of fresh perspiration or the fragrance of his laundered clothes. Eventually, when he was in range of touching her, she would feel his warm moist breath on her skin, usually the nape of her neck.
He liked to creep up behind her. Though he moved with stealth, his purpose wasn’t to make her jump out of skin with shock, but to produce the sensation of vulnerability and thereby her absolute need to trust him. She would occasionally flinch slightly at his first touch, and her heartbeat would increase in pace. Knowing he was there, so very close to her, she would take a deep breath and relax.
Today on the flybridge, surrounded by a semi-circular area of seating, she stood completely still. She had been playing blind man’s bluff with Andrea. Taking it in turns to see who could find the other the quickest in the smaller confines of the bow end of the flybridge. Andrea had agreed to the little game and Gemma had put back on her bikini and skirt wrap. Andrea joked that the alcoholic drinks had gone to their heads, along with the heat. The blindfold idea had been inspired by Gemma’s recounting of setting a dinner table blindfolded.
“You must be good with a blindfold on,” had laughed Andrea. “Pin the tail on the donkey or blind man’s bluff, you would win hands down.”
So, they put her theory to the test.
Gemma knew Jason was nearby. For one thing, Andrea’s raucous laughter had ceased. She couldn’t hear much; she perceived footsteps perhaps, approaching her from behind. The next sensory organ to be awoken was her nose. Salty sea smell and a wetsuit with a damp, rubbery aroma. Her ears pricked up. She heard his breath, faster than usual. He must have been energised by being out on the powerboat and probably had bounded up the stairs to find them. Then came his warm breath on her bare shoulders. She didn’t flinch at all when he kissed her neck.
“Hi, babe,” he said softly.
“Hi to you, too,” she replied.
She was very tempted to kneel. His voice and close proximity made her want to be that submissive woman. She didn’t because she knew John and Andrea were close by. In the background, John greeted his fiancée warmly.
Jason’s arms wrapped around Gemma, and he rested his chin on her shoulders.
“Been having fun?” he asked.
“Yes. Blind man’s bluff.”
“Interesting choice of game.” He licked her neck.
“I’d been talking about how I was trained, the dinner service thing I had to do. How I have to trust my senses and not freak out,” she explained carefully, tensing under his weight.
“Talking about your training. Mmmm. We agreed to not to talk about us. Have you been inappropriate?” His quiet tone bordered on displeasure.
“Nothing inappropriate about us, Sir. My past, distant past. Mainly my first Master. He wasn’t exactly a beast of the bedroom, was he?” she said with maybe too much boldness in her tone.
“Because if I find out you have said anything about us two, about what we do together or anything that makes me think you are going to recall memories that could trigger one of your emotional meltdowns, I will be very cross.”
“I have not been inappropriate, Master,” said Gemma with greater conviction.
“Good.”
His tight grip on her slackened. “I’m hungry. We’ll eat up here. Then I will get you to wash the seawater off my skin in the shower. Afterwards, I will stuff your gobby mouth to help remind you that orifice, like your others, is mine for the duration of this holiday.”
“Yes, Sir.” Her voice fluttered.
If the other two were not close by, she fancied he might have put his fingers down her bikini bottom and confirmed what she knew to be a fact—an engorged sex organ waited eagerly for his attention.
They shared a late lunch while the afternoon sun descended towards the horizon. The ravenous men wolfed down everything they could heap onto their plates. The sedate women pecked and nibbled on their smaller quantities. Gemma had a post-luncheon assignation scheduled. The kind where she would be well used, and she was mentally preparing her mind for the appointment.
John told Andrea and Gemma the news that Jason was prepared to help him with planning his gardening business, possibly even financial help if things looked promising.
“It’s just the kick up the backside he needs. I know he can do it with the right advice and support.” Andrea put her arms around John and gave him a hug. “You’ll be good at it, you know you will.”
Gemma gave Jason her own admiring look and mouthed a thank you when she caught his eye.
Enrique and Maria removed the trays of dirty plates and the few remnants of the lunch leftovers. John yawned and gazed at Andrea expectantly. She blushed in reply.
They made their excuses.
Jason took Gemma’s hand and waved them off. “We’ll meet later on the main deck. No rush. Coffee and cake?”
***
Gemma sponged the salty seawater off Jason’s body as he leant against the wall of his personal shower. His erection was hard, pulsating and purple tipped. She ran her tongue around her lips.
Jason had come back from the powerboat trip ignited with testosterone-driven passions. It would be merely a matter of minutes before he plunged the engorged cock deep in her mouth. Her head would be pinioned in place by his tight grip on her hair. The smarting tears washed away by the warm water of the shower splashing down on to her upturned eyes. Her kneecaps would hurt, as she had to balance them on the raised pattern of the shower’s splash tray.
Jason pounced, grabbing her hair, legs on either side of her, he took his time to achieve his goal. A powerful, forceful ejaculation down her throat. Fin
ished with her face, he dragged her up to stand before him, pinned back against the tiles. Flipping her around, Jason pushed a finger up her bottom.
“This,” Jason hissed, “I will have later.”
Releasing her, he stepped out of the shower and took the proffered towel from Enrique, who had seemingly appeared from nowhere.
“Thank you, Enrique.”
Gemma remained pressed against the tiles, eyes closed, water cascading over her body, washing away the drool on her chin. Set alight by his dominance, she struggled to diminish the flames inside her. Her pulse steadied. The orgasm had been so close, it had needed but the touch of a hand to complete.
“Send Maria to her.” Jason wrapped a towel around his waist.
As he was about to leave the bathroom, he turned back to her. “My wife has pleased me. She may pleasure herself on the bed. But she has to do it with the rest of us watching. On the bed. A matinee performance. Oh, and no blindfold and only with her fingers, so we can see her pussy.”
Gemma’s heart skipped a beat.
Chapter 17. Exhibitionist
Seeing her tense up and knowing she would be reticent, Jason walked back to where she lingered, still in the shower cubicle. He leant in and switched the water off.
“You performed, for Andrea, a beautiful rendition of your life before me. Give us a display of your well-trained body,” he mocked.
She was very tempted to walk off and refuse the offer of the orgasm. She didn’t want to do the humiliating play. Jason knew exactly how to rile her, how to infuriate her. She had been too forthcoming with Andrea. He hadn’t been there to hear what Gemma had said, but he would have guessed she had been indulgent with her recollections.
She let Maria dry her body. When she entered the stateroom, Jason, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, lounged in an armchair. Damp hair glimmering in the sunlight, bare feet crossed, and arms stretched out on the armrests.
She knelt at his feet. “Please, Sir, I…would rather….” What she’d rather do was irrelevant. She was supposed to be obedient, and to plead otherwise would be pointless.
Jason pursed his lips. “You’re struggling with your fear of being humiliated. All I ask is for you to masturbate for us, and we’re not exactly a bunch of strangers.” He poked her with a toe. “Nothing to say? Disappointment is what I’m feeling at the moment. You said you would try to overcome your inhibitions.”
Gemma remained resolutely silent. She had no idea how to play him. He had her trapped in a state of submissive reluctance. Wrapped in her anxieties, she had forgotten to show sufficient appreciation with regard to his offer to help John. A murmured thank you, nothing else. Guilt crept up on her.
“This isn’t meant to be a punishment. Contrary to what you may think, I’m not mad at you for chatting with Andrea. I merely pointed out you should be selective in your choice of topic. It’s good you can talk about your past without dredging up difficult memories. You reminded me of your fears of reminiscing only the other day. Yet you managed perfectly well today. You should be proud. Look at me, Gemma.”
He poked her again, and she lifter her head higher. Unshed tears smarted in her eyes.
“Am I that transparent to you, Sir, that everything I do or say, even if you’re not present, is printed on my face like a book.”
“Yes, to be blunt. But the ability to read you allows me to help you and take care of you.”
He watched her intently, for tears or anger. She remained in an emotional no-man’s land. “Let us return to the real matter at hand. Your dislike of being exhibited will be addressed to my satisfaction, and since you aren’t prepared to provide me with an orgasm of your own volition, I shall insist you do it for mine. Go. On the bed, now!”
Gemma crawled onto the middle of the mattress. Suddenly, his demands sent a shock wave through her head. It awakened the raw emotion of vulnerability, a place of profound discomfort. A soft limit of her emotional endurance.
Jason assembled her audience. Enrique appeared as if summoned by a secret command. He and Maria took up positions near the foot of the bed, one to each side, and they stared at Gemma impassively. Jason remained in his armchair, regally positioned for the best view.
“Legs farther apart and get on with it.” Jason tapped a finger on the armrest.
Gemma’s tattooed hands began their slow circular movements around her clitoris. Closing her eyes, she gradually built the pace up and rocked on her haunches.
“Eyes open,” snapped Jason then he softened his tone. “I want you looking at me. Your attention on me. I am all you need focus on. Nobody in this room wants you to fail.”
Gemma struggled, her shoulders tense and her face rigid with frustration. Finally, her eyes settled on him, and he gave her what she desperately wanted, a friendly, pleasant face of reassurance—he smiled. He delivered an affirmation, his belief in her abilities, and it had an immediate effect. She became aroused. Her skin pinked up about her breasts, breaths grew rapid and audible, and her body transcended into a place of indulgence. Her decorated hands trembled as she pushed fingers up against her clitoris, and her legs wobbled with the impending climax.
She had been cross with him, but not any longer. She blanked out the intrusive faces of the other two. Maria had given her a nod, and even Enrique mouthed a “go for it.” Jason was right, there were only friends in the room, nobody to hurt or judge her abilities. No grotesque young men to taunt her. Being on show, the centre of attention, caught her imagination.
She thought back on the ogling boys of her teenage years, following her about, chatting her up, commenting in hushed voices about her tits and bum. Nobody had ever told her she was unattractive or undesirable. Everyone liked her and found her good company. With these memories and the intense gaze of her handsome, impressive husband, she felt her confidence boost, her self-esteem rocket. She was a well-trained, pleasing, and accomplished submissive, desired by many and taken by the best. Her master, her lover, and her husband.
Gemma’s legs practically buckled underneath her as she exploded with her climax.
“Oh, God!” she yelled as her body crumpled and shook with the aftershock. On wobbly legs, Jason came across and held her against his body until she finished. By the time she regained an awareness of her surroundings, the other two had gone.
“Well done. That wasn’t so difficult was it?” He hugged and patted her back.
“No,” she gasped, grateful for the physical contact.
“Lie down. On your back. Take the weight off those shaky legs.”
“Thank you. For making me do that. I’m sorry I’ve been lacking in gratitude. About John and...this holiday. I know you’re distracted by work, and I appreciate the time you’re giving me, us.” She leant over and kissed him on the mouth, his lips parting, he exhaled into her mouth.
“Babe, you’re divine,” Jason cupped her face in his hands. “What you did in the shower was exactly what I needed. I’m floundering with work, unable to see the whole picture from out here. It’s frustrating, and you are the perfect picture of obedience and very sexy. Too sexy. I wanted to fuck you on the flybridge with that blindfold on!” He kissed her back.
His face darkened slightly. “From now on, though, no backing off. When I ask you to do anything, in the presence of my chosen audience, anything, whether it involves sexual intercourse or an act of humility, you will do it without questioning, back chatting, or hesitating. I’m not giving you any further latitude on this issue. You’re an established submissive, and this shouldn’t require me to negotiate or make repeated requests.”
He held her chin in his fingers as he spoke, though his reclined position portrayed his most dominant features of his face.
Gemma blanched slightly and took a deep breath. “I will try to—”
“Not try. Do. Without thought or over analysing. Switch the brain off.” He tapped her temple with his finger. “Now, we should be good hosts soon. That orgasm was mine, the next are yours. Twenty minutes of this.”
He held up the Hitachi massager. In her excitement, she went to grab at it, but Jason shook his head and held it away.
“Twenty minutes!”
He switched it on. “High setting, don’t you think?”
The buzzing grew louder and faster.
“Oh, thank you, thank you,” she gushed, lying back and parting her legs.
Jason propped the Hitachi’s vibrating head on her clitoris. Gemma jumped slightly at its intensity. Wriggling her hips she let out a tiny groan.
Lying next to her, with his hands behind his head, he shut his eyes. “I’m sure the orgasm count is way in your favour. I can’t believe how generous I’m being with you.”
***
While the two couples had a break, Enrique sketched out a new picture. Maria sat at his feet, sharing an orange with him while he quickly captured the image in his mind. The man would be standing over the woman. She would be kneeling at the man’s feet, back arched and mouth wide open. Her glorious head of hair would be clutched tightly in the man’s hands while he filled her mouth with his gargantuan erection. Colossal in size, it would suffocate her with its dimensions. All about his imaginary couple, water cascaded and bouncing off their bodies. Not a shower. He had decided to place the couple under a waterfall where hard rocks would surround them and turbulent water froth at their feet.
The sketch completed he showed Maria.
“Perfecto!” She smiled and offered him another segment of orange.
Chapter 18. Voyeurs
Day Nine
Framed by the archway, Andrea stopped dead in her sneaking tracks.
It was as if she and John watched from an auditorium. The archway transformed into the promontory of a theatre, and the bed-shaped lounger now became the stage. The morning sunlight reflected off the angular white awning, dazzling but insufficient to blind her nor prevent her from seeing what was happening underneath. Even in the shadows, she could clearly see it all. What they were doing.