by Jaye Peaches
Jason played with her, quietly and selectively. Nothing overt or unpleasant, they kept it in the realms of subtle and low-key. She remained attentive to his wishes, making sure when he asked for anything, a towel, drink, or a simple kiss, she gave it to him promptly and gladly.
She doubted her brother could hear her say the quiet “Sir” or see Jason’s seductive, clandestine nibbling on her earlobe or lips. If she winced or flinched, their guests seemed impervious. The bizarre spectacle on the sundeck had been filed away, confined back to his correct place in the private world of their host and his wife, and it wasn’t up for discussion or comment.
“Let’s move up to the sundeck. The view is better up there,” suggested Jason.
They rested against the handrail as Sublime cruised ever closer to the shoreline, and the pretty towns and villages became clearly visible. Gemma rested her head on Jason’s chest, and his arm draped over her shoulder. For a while, she was at peace and content.
***
Later, with their luggage packed, clothed in their travel attire and with sombre faces, John and Andrea stood on the main deck and watched Sublime approach the marina to the west of Naples. Their weekend of adventure was coming to a conclusion. Gemma stood alongside them with Jason.
“Please, make use of the sleeping cabin if you want on the jet,” Gemma told her brother.
John’s eyebrows rose. “There’s a bed? I didn’t notice on the way over. Too busy looking out the windows.”
“Yes, of course there’s a bed, for long-haul flights and other things.” She ran a finger along the railing, remembering many escapades had on that bed. John blushed.
He shook Jason’s hand vigorously. “Thank you for the offer of help. The gardening thing. I’m so pleased you haven’t changed your mind.”
Jason smiled. “Why would I?”
As the crew secured Sublime in its berth, the disembarking couple gave their appreciation for the crew’s hospitality, shaking a few hands as they departed. Their stewardess, Jada, also said her good-byes. Her duties completed, she would catch a ferry back to Barcelona.
John embraced Gemma, holding her tight to his thumping chest. Tears had formed in his eyes. She rarely saw him moved to tears. “Take care, little sis. Look after yourself. You know what I mean. I’ve put my trust in Jason, and I’m going to let go now. Don’t make me regret my decision.”
“I won’t, John,” said Gemma softly. “Thank you for being a good brother. Still being a good brother, I should say.” She reached up and kissed his cheek.
***
Gemma wiped a tear from her face. She stood by the railings and waved as the couple climbed into their limo.
The moment of despondency had arrived. The excitement of having guests was replaced with an empty feeling. Gemma sighed and wondered what the rest of the holiday was going to be like. They still had a little under two weeks to go. Part of her missed home, her garden, and the routine of a normal life. Seeing her brother depart had made her wonder if she wanted to leave, too, and not continue the cruise or maybe not continue to be Jason’s submissive for the duration of the cruise.
“Are we staying in Naples?” she asked Jason as he approached her from behind, allowing her to lean back into his arms. He kissed her neck.
“No. Moving on south. Towards Sicily and Malta.”
“Malta! I’d loved to go there,” admitted Gemma, brightening at the idea.
His kisses turned into tiny bites, and he hardened against her bottom.
“God, I need to fuck you,” he murmured in her ear. “First, though, we have unfinished business from this morning.” He drew away.
Gemma shut her eyes. Little Maria’s punishment was due.
“Do I have to witness it?” she asked solemnly.
“No. The yacht will depart once the crew has taken on fuel and fresh food. Enrique will administer the punishment to Maria. Then, when I have seen her dealt with, I will be expecting what you promised at lunch, remember?” He ran a finger down her spine.
“Yes, Sir. I remember.”
***
Enrique wanted to show Señor Jason his ability to subjugate his little Maria. He insulted her in Spanish and berated her for breaking the señor’s strict rule about privacy. He waited for Jason to give the command to have her stripped and then allow him to demonstrate his prowess with the whip.
It didn’t come. To his amazement, Jason changed the nature of the punishment, and it wasn’t simply about Maria’s negligence.
“Enough!” he snarled. “Where were you, Enrique? You were supposed to keep guard and not only was the door left open, you failed to monitor us. Your duty was to be our eyes and ears.”
Jason’s attack stunned him into silence. Taking a step back, away from the weeping Maria, he rocked on his feet. He had slipped away, not simply for a comfort break, but to fetch his sketchpad and pencils. In the brief moment he had been absent, the other two had wandered up to the sundeck. He couldn’t believe their timing and the consequences of their ill-considered curiosity.
Jason paced about the room as Enrique helped Maria to her feet. She now clutched his arm, and he wondered what fate awaited them both.
Jason halted, stood with his hands on his hips and gave them his judgement. “You both will remain in your room and, apart from fetching food, you will not stray to any other part of this vessel. You are suspended from my services, including your pay. If you wish to leave at the next port of call, you may. Otherwise, you will be reinstated in three days and be absolutely focused on pleasing my wife and me. Nobody else.”
Jason’s blue eyes tore into Enrique. He had forgotten how those eyes could inflict so much on their chosen prey.
“Sí. Señor, I apologise. I will do as you ask, and I beg we may be your dutiful servants once more.” Enrique swallowed hard.
If they left the yacht, their reputation would be in shreds. To be dismissed by a wealthy patron was too dangerous, especially given their immigration status in Spain.
“Very well. Out of my sight,” snapped Jason.
***
Jason suspected Enrique’s tirade at his lover was due to the man’s trying to impress him. Listening to the fiery man rant at the shrivelled Maria, Jason made a decision. There would be no physical chastisement and no opportunity for Enrique to bestow his whipping. When he reached down and slapped his lover about the face, Jason had filled with fury. Enrique had vanished from the sundeck at a critical moment, and his transgression had been as bad as Maria’s.
Jason paced the stateroom. The Mexicans had left, Maria held tight in Enrique’s arms. The man seemed to be genuinely remorseful. He held Maria tight to him, kissing her black hair. Jason was angry with himself for underestimating the man’s increasing obsession to capture the kinky scenes. Maria had simply been negligent and thoughtless. Enrique had forgotten his place and assumed he could draw when and as he wished. Spending three days out of sight and ostracised was a suitable punishment for them. Gemma probably would appreciate the extra privacy, as she had tired of Enrique’s company.
Jason found Gemma on the flybridge, engrossed in her stars and streaking meteorites trailing light across the blackness.
“Done?” she queried.
Jason sighed. He struggled to keep secrets from her, even if the truth had the potential to upset her. “Enrique, I think, has been trying to impress me too much, and Maria was absent-minded. I’ve confined them to their room for the next three days. The crew will be told they are having a respite period. Save them the embarrassment of being suspended from duties. They are to stay away from this deck.”
Gemma didn’t criticise his decision—it wasn’t her place. However, as he’d expected, she seemed relieved.
“I’m glad she wasn’t whipped. It seems harsh to me. Perhaps in the long run, she’s done us a favour. John has finally confronted what we are and seems to have accepted it.”
Jason didn’t disagree with her. He stared up at the stars. There was a clear view of the Milky Way,
and he found the twinkling, fixed constellations stilled his troubled mind. Tomorrow, he had work to face, and he felt in his bones it was going to be a bad news day.
He didn’t want to think about what had transpired in the stateroom. He wanted her. “I’m sorry your ‘anything’ is going to be somewhat subdued. I’m not in the mood for excesses this night. The Jacuzzi up here is warm, and I like the stars.”
They stripped and sank into the small pool, switched on the whirlpool, and allowed the gently swirling bubbles to pummel their bodies. Entwined in the warm water, they played spot the constellation, and that in turn became discover the erotic image portrayed by the night sky.
“Can’t you see, Jason, it looks just like a cock.” She drew her finger about in the air.
“You’re obsessed, Gem. Is that what you’ve been doing up here? Cock spotting?”
He nuzzled his chin in her hair as she lay back between his legs. At long last, he chilled out and went hard, pressing his cock into her naked back.
“Oh, God, Gem,” he moaned. “What would I do without you?”
Chapter 20. Deal Off
Day Ten
“Señor Lucas? I am very sorry to disturb, but there is an urgent phone call for you.” Esteban’s distant voice came out of the intercom handset.
“Shit!” said Jason, rousing himself from the bed.
Gemma stirred, turning over, and drifted back off to sleep.
Jason took the call in his study, wearing his sweatpants and vest with his hair dishevelled—he’d gone to sleep with it wet. Listening to the news, he gripped the handset tightly, squeezing it between his fingers as his rage grew.
The deal was off.
The other party had pulled out, not prepared to sell off their lucrative subsidiary. The reasons given—none. The lack of excuses infuriated him. To have wasted time and energy on the negotiations, lawyers, and due diligence. The regulatory requirements, financial considerations, and profit forecasts—all generated and completed for nothing.
Philip rattled off a string of measures he had put in place. “We’d ironed out much of the issues we had last week, Jason. Nothing seemed to indicate they were going to back off completely and kill the acquisition.”
“They didn’t come clean about the asset portfolio, though, did they? No, there is something going on, something is wrong in that company. I’m not going to give up on this matter until I have an explanation of why they ditched a deal that was to our mutual benefit. I’ll come back today. Sort this fucking mess out myself!”
“I’m sorry, Jason. I—”
Jason cut across his apology. “Get my jet back out here somewhere. Get my travel arrangements sorted. I want to be back by tonight. We can talk tomorrow, Philip, when I’m in a better frame of mind, because at this moment, I don’t want to hear apologies or accusations of whose arse has screwed up. I have to go tell my wife she is going to be deserted on our holiday and, at this precise moment, that is what is occupying my mind.”
“I understand, sir.”
Jason slammed the phone down on him.
***
Gemma approached the office door. She had heard his raised voice, venting considerable spleen at someone. It was early, barely nine o’clock in the morning. With the sun blazing, the heat returned quickly, and the air conditioning worked hard in the background. Assuming his anger had abated—because the room had gone quiet—she decided to turn the door handle.
Jason sat at his desk, his face deep in thought, his arms folded, chin on his chest.
“Gemma.” He inhaled deeply.
“What’s wrong, Jason?” She approached, wrapping her gown about her body tightly.
“The deal has collapsed. No explanation.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Oh is an understatement. I foresaw problems but not a fucking meltdown! I have to go back.”
“What, to England. When?”
“Today, Gemma, today.”
A wave of nausea hit her belly. “Both of us?”
“No. You can stay. One of us might as well enjoy the rest of the fortnight.”
“On my own. Without you?” Gemma put her hand to her mouth. “Will you be back?”
“I don’t know. I honestly can’t predict the next few days.”
“I’ll come back with you,” she said with a firmer voice.
“No!” snapped Jason. “There is nothing for you to do. I’ll be working, meetings, etcetera, and you wouldn’t see me anyway. I expect I’ll be back. I need to see what is happening in person, meet the relevant parties face-to-face. With any luck, I’ll return by the end of the week. The crew, everything is paid for. No, you will stay. That is my final word on the matter!” His eyes bore down on her.
Gemma’s heart sank. She didn’t want to be abandoned, left on a big yacht in the middle of the sea.
“Please, Jason....”
The wrong approach. He didn’t want supplications. He wanted absolute obedience from her and total control over her. The very thing he lacked in the workplace from his normally reliable employees, thousands of miles away.
Jason shot her a fierce glance of disapproval, lines furrowing on his forehead. “I’m very aware how disappointed you are. Do I look like I want to go? That this is something I am pleased about!”
“No.”
“Then why the fuck do you get to whine about it? Why do you get to ask me to stay or take you with me?”
“I don’t.”
“You don’t. Correct. You ask for nothing because you should be grateful to have this yacht, all these people waiting on you. The sun and the stars…you get to a have all this while I sit on a plane, then in my office, and listen to the pathetic excuses of people who have let me down. You will keep me happy by thinking of me while I am away. Not your fucking self. While I go and ensure the money is there to provide you with this exorbitant opulence, you will be thanking me in your head, every minute of the day.”
“Yes, Sir.” Gemma shrank her voice to a tiny tone of acceptance.
She wished she could have walked into the room again and spoken differently. Showed him her gratitude for remembering her in his difficult times. Agreed with him that he was right to go home and sort out what troubled him. She should have clearly stated she was fine and all right to be left on her own.
“Once I have dealt with a few essential e-mails, made my travel arrangements, briefed McKenzie, and ensured your needs, your fucking needs, are going to be well taken care of, I will come and find you. Then, for the few hours we have left on this yacht, you will make sure my needs are totally met and provided for. You will think of nothing but me. You will not speak a word that makes me think you are going to be anything other than my obedient fuck slave. When I leave, I shall make sure that for the next few days you have a constant reminder of me. Your body will be sore, marked, and littered with little memories of me. That way I shall know you are going to be mine.”
“Sir.” She couldn’t fight his anger. She knew it wasn’t directed at her, not the entirety of it. Having his working life impact their special holiday saddened her. He wouldn’t have anticipated such a disastrous turn of events, especially leaving her behind. The pleasure at being his submissive faded. It wasn’t because what he planned to do to her—such an outpouring of desire would normally turn her on terribly—as much as the reason why he wished to do it that marred the sentiment of lust. Rage fuelled her Master.
“Now, go and have breakfast. Have you stopped bleeding?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Prepare yourself for me. I’ll come when I’m ready. You won’t have Maria, so do what you have to on your own. Then you will wait in the stateroom for me. Patiently and dutifully.” His tone wasn’t to be defied; he wouldn’t tolerate hesitation.
Gemma scampered straight for the stateroom and threw herself on the bed, bursting into tears. He would be gone by the evening, and she would be alone. She let the tears flow, and once she had had her outpouring
of anguish, she started to pull herself together. She would do exactly as he asked, and she wouldn’t show her true feelings to him. She would allow her body to be used by him. Given his demeanour, she knew he would make gruelling use of her, too.
She expected him to want to cause her pain and for her to give him compliance, pleasure, and unswerving obedience. She would, for the few hours they had left together, be the most perfect submissive for him. She would utilise the years of training she had recounted to Andrea, use all of her techniques to please him. If he left her marked, sore, and satiated with rewarding orgasms, then so be it. She wanted him to.
***
By the time Jason returned to the room in the early afternoon, ready for her, Gemma had taken up position by his preferred armchair. Kneeling and naked. For the first time that day, he hoped to be happy.
He had expected Gemma to be disappointed. A natural reaction, and his announcement would have been a shock. She struggled with loneliness, being accustomed to an active social life. The crew would be sympathetic and attentive, but they were not her friends. Unfortunately, he had been informed Maria had succumbed to a severe migraine caused by stress. He would have reinstated her under mitigating circumstances. Gemma wouldn’t tolerate Enrique. She disliked him, and he suspected Enrique would attempt to assert his own authority over her. He opted to leave the Mexicans out of sight. He would advise Enrique that two days exile would be sufficient for their penalty, rather than the three he had originally specified. By then, Maria, he guessed, should have recovered.
His preparations for travel were going well. Back at his headquarters, his staff bent over backwards to accommodate his demands on them. His diary for the next day filled with wall-to-wall meetings. He anticipated unpleasant experiences for a number of his employees.