Sublime Trust

by Jaye Peaches

  Jason appeared unharmed. The nausea didn’t vanish immediately. She didn’t know what had happened. She sat on a sun bed, her legs shaking.

  Ludo took the binoculars back. “Wasn’t engine failure. Kevin has got the boat up and running.” He gave a bemused shrug.

  “I thought I saw an ambulance.” She bit down on her lip. He looked okay, didn’t he?

  “Yes. I can see the provincial police, too. The captain is edging Sublime in closer. It looks like Kevin is going out on the motor launch with Nick. They’ll have your husband shortly.” Reaching down, he briefly patted her shoulder.

  An eternity passed, at least to Gemma. The motor launch drifting in the shallows, but Jason remained on the beach. She had to wait nearly another hour before he waded out and got into the boat. Heading down to the main deck, she found McKenzie on the bridge, talking on a radio to Kevin.

  “What’s been going on?” she asked

  “Turns out your husband and Leo have become local heroes. They came into this bay to swim and found some local kids mucking about. They kept their distance, not wanting to risk hitting them with the boat, and then one of the kids got into serious difficulties. Completely out of his depth. Your husband and Leo dived in and kept the boy above the surface. The powerboat drifted away from them, so they swam to shore with the laddie. The police and ambulance were called.”

  “Is the boy all right?” Gemma was amazed at the events that had transpired while she lounged about on the sundeck.

  “It would appear. Swallowed loads of seawater, so they’ll take him to hospital as a precaution. Looks like the locals are impressed. Turns out the boy is the local mayor’s son.” The captain turned his attention to position Sublime ready to receive the launch boat.

  Gemma paced by the railings as the launch drew alongside. Jason sprang out of the boat.

  “Babe. Don’t cry. I’m fine.” He embraced her trembling body. “We’ve only been gone two hours, not a lifetime.”

  “It felt like a lifetime. You said an hour. Then we saw the empty powerboat. Jason, my heart almost gave out.” She shivered against his warm wetsuit. Standing in the sun on the beach had dried him off.

  “We had to wait for the yacht to catch up with us. We were sure McKenzie would spot the powerboat, she had drifted almost out of the cove altogether.” He released her from his clutches.

  “Look, I have to speak to McKenzie. Go back up and wait for me. I won’t be long. For one thing, I’m sick of this bloody wetsuit.” He gave her a little nudge, encouraging her to let go.

  Jason stood in the stateroom and, with Enrique’s help, peeled away the wetsuit. Gemma watched from the bed with her knees drawn up to her chin.

  “We’re making good speed. The winds have been in our favour. We are on course for arriving in Croatia.” Jason pulled the T-shirt over his head.

  Gemma didn’t fancy eating. She wanted his touch. However, Jason was hungry and ordered food over the intercom. She guessed a strenuous swim to rescue a terrified child had increased his appetite.

  “How old was he?”

  “Thirteen. Strong currents. Very deceptive. Even I had to swim hard to make it to shore. Leo and I took it in turns to drag him along.”

  “I’m really proud of you, Jason.”

  “It was…” He hesitated, glancing out the window to the shoreline, then gave a tiny shrug. “Right place at the right time.”

  “Would he have died if you weren’t there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you all right?” She touched his hand.

  “Yes, babe. Thanks for asking. I’m fine. Unexpected excitement.” He stretched out in the chair, hands tucked behind his head. The cove lay before them, visible through the panoramic window. He didn’t speak further about the adventure.

  ***

  Water dripped from the bath tap. A multitude of glinting bubbles danced about, catching the light, popping with the slightest movement. Gemma leant on Jason’s chest, and he ran his fingers down her belly, resting them on her lap. His fingers then slipped under her bottom and gave her buttock cheeks a momentary squeeze, separating them to allow the water to cleanse her. She groaned—his hands felt sensual and strong. The next place his hands wandered to was her ragged hair, strewn about her face and knotted by sweat.

  “Do you want to me to wash your hair?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “So, how was that lesson?” Jason turned on the taps, and the water shot out of the showerhead, splashing against their skin. “Tip your head back.”

  The water cascaded down her back as she sat between his knees. “My legs gave out.”

  “I noticed. Poor Maria. You sat on her face.”

  “She didn’t complain.” She grinned, recollecting the earlier scene, an educational one intended to improve her sexual versatility. It had ended rather abruptly when Maria’s darting tongue proved too much for Gemma.

  “She can breathe through her nose, fortunately. This shampoo?”

  “Yes. Your favourite.”

  He sniffed the open bottle. “Certainly smells good.” Jason lathered her hair into a white foam.

  “What other lessons do you have in mind?”

  “It’s time to add some ropes, string you up again. Maybe a zipper or a good hard flogging.”

  He rinsed her hair out. Gemma fell silent at the word zipper—it referred to the use of clothes pegs in a line on a piece of string. Pull the string and the pegs snap off in quick succession—a painful and pleasurable combination if done during an orgasm.

  Jason wrung her hair out and kissed her neck. “Done. The clothes pegs scare you? We’ve done the zipper several times.”

  Gemma stood up and, reaching for a towelling head wrap, bound it about her hair. “We haven’t done it in a while. Sometimes, I forget whether I actually enjoyed it or not. The more pegs you add, the longer they’re on before they come off, and the pain lingers longer. I’m telling you this because you have no idea. What’s your pain threshold like, Jason?”

  She wrapped another towel about her chest. A small, enigmatic smile curved his lips. She couldn’t interpret its origins.

  “Not as good as yours. I’m aware of how clothes pegs work. I had a zipper done on me once.” He took the bath sheet she offered and rose out of the water.

  She froze, replaying his last sentence, registering its significance. “You have? When? Why?”

  “Oh, long time ago. Simple curiosity. When Damien started to let me join in with his scenes, while he mentored me, I realised I had no idea what it was like to be on the receiving end. Not as a submissive, simply as a bottom. He suggested I try a few things out. If I wanted to understand the nature of the pain I was going to inflict on my subs, I should be on the receiving end. A good philosophy.”

  Gemma remained gobsmacked, her mouth opening and shutting in the goldfish style that so amused Jason. An incredulous image of him on the receiving end occupied her thoughts. “What else did you try?”

  Jason rubbed his legs dry. “Oh. Not much. I can’t recreate some of the things you experience. I don’t have the right body parts, for one thing. Zipper was an easy one to try. Some chemical play, though not on sensitive parts, on my forearm. The cane, whip, and paddle.”

  “I can’t believe this. You submitted—”

  Jason’s hand stopped moving. He straightened. “No. Not submitted, I allowed somebody to demonstrate on me. Not a scene. No submissives present. I was curious. That’s all. So, I am well aware of how clothes pegs feel on the flesh.”

  Gemma removed her covering. She pictured Jason covered in pegs. Her hand holding the string. She didn’t know if it excited her or not. “I can’t get the image out of my head of you—”

  He flicked her nipple, making her jump back, covering her breasts with her arms. “If it lingers too long, my little subbie, I shall find a way of distracting you from thinking about it. Time to dry your hair. Maria can braid it, assuming Enrique has finished with her. He likes to fuck her after she has been naughty
with you.”

  Gemma held out her hand for Jason’s towel. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jason. Now, she saw him bent over. “Somebody caned you! Who?”

  Ten minutes later, she wasn’t thinking about Jason being a bottom. Over his lap, he walloped her bottom with the palm of his hand. Another to add to the considerable collection he had landed her backside.

  “Now, what are you thinking of?” A sharp yank on her scalp, and he pulled her head up. She tried not to grin at him. Heat radiated out of her bottom. Spanked on a wet bum, she had resorted to various techniques to take her mind off the pain of his stinging handprints.

  “Mr Mistoffelees, Sir,” she yelped. “What else!” She referred to a poem she used to help escape. Her love of T.S. Eliot poetry came in handy when she needed to distract herself. She often called upon the verses lodged in her memory. Her first Master had been a fan of the musical Cats, and it had been at his suggestion that she learnt the words by heart.

  She struggled to fight off a fit of giggles. Each time she caught her breath, another wave of ridiculous sniggers erupted out of her mouth. She knew it wasn’t a serious admonishment. Her feet waggled up and down like flippers. An image of a seal spread over Jason’s knees came to mind, and it set off another stream of titters.

  Jason stopped spanking and pushed her naked body off his lap. She flopped onto the floor, clutching a buttock cheek.

  He wagged a playful finger. “You have twenty minutes to get ready for dinner. So, be quick. If you have trouble sitting this evening, you only have yourself to blame.”

  “Yes, Master. Thank you for spanking me, Sir.”

  Wriggling her throbbing bottom in his direction, she fancied he had wanted to find an excuse to spank her for the last few days. The last instance over the armchair had involved tears and protestations. Not the best kind of spanking for either of them. A playful spanking relieved tensions and lifted their spirits. Jason, following his stressful sea rescue, had manufactured an excuse. She didn’t mind.

  “You’re welcome.” A slow smile spread across his face until teeth glinted.

  Gemma waited until she reached the seclusion of the bathroom before muttering, “You bastard,” under her breath. She tried not to smirk at her reflection in the mirror. Now, she was certain he had set her up; the grin on his face had said it all. She also noticed he never answered her question. His pain threshold remained elusive and untestable by her.

  After dinner, he took her hand and led her to the stateroom. A firm grip and she felt her heart starting to pound and her insides buzz with expectation. Enrique and Maria had the evening off, hidden away in their own cabin, up to their own games.

  Gemma stood in the middle of the stateroom, while Jason circled around her divesting himself of his shoes, then jacket, watch, and socks. Halting in front of her, he took her chin and tilted her head up to him. His mouth descended and his lips encased her own. He peeled her dress off, unclipped her bra and, kneeling, slipped off her knickers. Rising, he paused between her legs and inhaled her sex. For a few minutes, he inserted his tongue into her slit and flicked it back and forth, making her gasp and rock on her feet.

  “Undress me,” he whispered.

  She unbuttoned his shirt, running her hands down his chest, over his abdominal muscles to his waistband. His button undone, his flies unzipped, she pulled his trousers off his hips and he stepped out of the legs. Next, kneeling, she lowered his boxer shorts and tossed them to one side. Resplendent and large. Upright and rigid. His cock was a joy to behold.

  Leaving her on her knees, he fetched the cordless vibrating wand. Handing the device to her, he told her to place it against her pleasure point and press hard. He commanded her to kneel at his feet, peering up at him, while he enjoyed his erection, running his hand up and down, tugging on the tip.

  Grabbing her hair, he came first, all over her upturned face. Not far behind, he held her by the hair until she completed her climax, writhing and twisting while he clung to her hair.

  “Thank you! Oh, God, thank you!” she murmured as he took the wand off her.

  “Go and clean yourself. I’m tired. That is sufficient for tonight.”

  Standing in the bathroom, Gemma examined her reflection in the mirror. His semen trickled down her face onto her bosom. White globules of fluid had collected on her nose, lips, and chin. She smeared the thick liquid all over her face, spreading into her skin as if it was lotion. She licked her lips and then the palms of her hands. She tasted of him. She had him all over her face. A small smile crossed her face.

  Climbing into bed Gemma noticed he had gone to sleep. Soft regular breaths and a perfectly still body. Lying on her back, she rubbed a finger over her face and sucked on it. She purred. If he didn’t put his seed inside her, she would keep it on her face and, now and again, have another sample of him until she fell asleep.

  Chapter 26. Reflections

  Day Sixteen

  Gemma rose early in the morning and washed her face. The sticky mess had dried on her cheeks. By the time he woke up, she had poured his coffee and placed the mug on the bedside table next to his buttered, toasted bagels and glass of orange juice.

  Jason woke to find her kneeling by the bed. “You’re gorgeous, babe. I love it when you greet me like this in the morning.”

  Gemma rested her elbows on the edge of the mattress. “Would you like to fuck me before or after breakfast, Sir?” She propped her chin on the back of her hands and fluttered her eyelashes.

  Jason laughed. “I’m hungry. You’ll have to wait. Go and find Maria. I’m going to take my time having breakfast in bed then check my e-mails.”

  “As you wish, Sir.” She couldn’t resist wiggling her bottom as she left—her “this is what you’re missing” taunt. His chuckles followed her out of the room.

  Following her massage, Maria draped a robe over Gemma’s oiled skin. Maria’s hands rested on her shoulders briefly, squeezing them in a reassuring fashion.

  “Thank you, Maria. Perfect, as usual.”

  She sauntered back up to their deck, feeling relaxed and ready to deal with whatever Jason desired. Knowing he had work to do, she hunted around the salon until she found a few items to take into his office. She planned to keep him company as unobtrusively as possible. Tapping on the door, she slipped into the room.

  She tossed a blanket and magazine on the floor before joining them. Unlike the first time, she didn’t attract his attention with her flirtatious body; she felt cold. The turbulent air conditioning blasted, and she wrapped the blanket about her. She curled up into a cocoon. Shutting his laptop down, he leant back in his chair, and his hand brushed against the visible bulge in his pants.

  An hour later, the state of the bed told a story of their lovemaking. The stained sheets kicked to the bottom, pillows scattered about, and sweat dripping off their bodies onto the mattress. Even in the midst of straight, vanilla sex, Jason led her as if he was a film director. How she should touch him, and his words, hands, and eyes articulated where she should position her body to receive him. She lapped up the instructions, finding his voice seductive and gently assertive. Secretly, she wished he controlled her orgasms. To have him in her and speak the word “come!” would make her melt around him.

  Satiated and spent, Gemma leant her head on the leather boarding and between her legs, on his stomach and resting his head on her belly, lay Jason. Motionless and breathing quietly, his rapid exertions ceased. She stroked his hair with her hands, running her fingers through his blond strands, which had darkened with perspiration. Fresh sweat gave off a divine smell.

  “Still not bald,” he muttered into her belly.

  She jumped slightly. “I thought you were asleep.” Fooled yet again by the expert. But she smiled, he’d spoken those words to her when she had first touched his bare body nearly three years earlier.

  He lifted his head. “Do you remember the first time?”

  She paused, delighted that their thoughts had re-traced the same journey. “Of course.
A precious moment that can’t be reproduced or re-created. I was so nervous!”

  Jason lay next to her. One of his fingers trailed around her belly as he rested on his other elbow. “Nervous? You didn’t seem especially nervous. Quite keen, if I recollect. Foreplay was barely necessary.”

  “Oh, before then. In the car, on the way to Blythewood House. I realised I had broken all my own rules. After what had happened to me, you would have thought I would have been extra careful.” She shook her head with the mildly unsettling memories.

  “Rules?”

  “Leaving a contact number or have someone ring me at a specified time. You know, that sort of thing. Instead, I went with a strange man on my own. I was very aware of my vulnerabilities. Blythewood House, in the darkness, looked like a Victorian gothic horror house. I thought I was about to enter a world like my first Master’s—a time warp experience. Of course, the interior of Blythewood is different, not exactly antique. However, I made a decision to trust you before I’d even got out of the car.”

  “I can assume you have no regrets! What if I had told you I was a Dominant from the outset? No vanilla wooing you. Would you have gone with me that first night?”

  Gemma tilted her head to one side. “If I had been in my subbie mindset? No. I would have requested another meeting, a proper interview-type thing. Limits discussed up front. You know the drill, we did it three weeks later. But I wasn’t in my submissive place back then. I lost it completely. I genuinely thought you were going to be a vanilla lover for me. I think that was why I was mad at you when you ignored me for a few days. You were being a typical Dom, and I was thinking, I’m your girlfriend, speak to me!”