you’re not rubbish at sex. Quite the contrary. You’re very accomplished at it, not a harlot or prostitute. If I exhibit you, it’s because I’m proud of you. You had a bad experience with abusive humiliation, not erotic humiliation. Not all women are turned on by being humiliated or exhibited. I accept it won’t be your preference, but I do expect you to submit willingly and to please me, not dwell in the murky past and shrivel up in my arms. Take pride in my pride in you.”
“Thank you for the kind words. I will try, Master. But you must accept I won’t always go to those places with you.”
He wasn’t convinced, far from it. Humiliation or exhibitionism were not hard limits any longer, certainly in the private arenas he had created for their play, and he wasn’t going to restrict their usage. His chosen scenes weren’t requests to be declined. The word “try” wasn’t acceptable when “do” was what he expected. He would plan a scene that would require her acquiescence once and for all.
“Go shower. Let Maria braid your hair. We will dine early. No need to keep Spanish times for meals any longer.”
***
Jason left Gemma in the pool, taking his robe from Enrique as he returned indoors.
Though the water play had been fun, Gemma had found the sex too swift to take any erotic pleasure. The added knowledge that the crew had watched them had dampened her desires. Such a blatant weakness had been unearthed by her husband, then prised apart and dissected.
Talking to Jason with her back to him had given her the courage to describe her first scene of humiliation. She’d wondered if Jason found her behaviour to be no different from a whore. It had been how she felt inside after the foolhardy encounter in the bike shed. However, he hadn’t called her a whore. That had been her own conclusion.
Maria handed her a towel. “Another time, he will think of you.”
Gemma couldn’t hide her disappointment. She would find a way to make him want her again.
***
When Gemma came down from the sundeck with a towelling robe draped around her , Jason waited at the bottom of the stairs. She had taken the opportunity for late evening sunbathing in the dregs of the day’s heat, while he had a post-meal coffee and chat with McKenzie regarding the route for the next few days.
Jason needed to work. An unfortunate necessity, as one of his favoured acquisitions had reached a critical stage of the negotiations. E-mails flew around, and meetings were happening in his absence. Reading between the lines, he had a sense of foreboding.
The sun had set, and the stars had come out in abundance.
“I love it up there,” she told him. “I could spend hours looking at the constellations, drifting between the stars like a comet in space.”
Not a surprising admission for Jason to hear, her love of open, stark places was entrenched in her bloodstream. He suggested she check the Internet for maps of the stars and try to spot the major constellations.
She shook her head. “I prefer to make up my own names and designs in the sky.” She stretched a hand above her head, drawing lines in the air.
He caught a glimpse of her breasts as she painted her imaginary lines, the henna tattoo made them pert and gloriously enlarged. He adored the delicious curvature of each breast. Jason headed to the office, and he backtracked to fetch a large, thick blanket from the storage box.
“Come with me.” He waved a finger, and she arched her eyebrows in response. “Actually, go find something to entertain yourself. I don’t want you bored.”
Gemma returned with her Kindle. Greatly to his pleasure, she had removed the robe to reveal her nudity. Jason laid the blanket out on the floor of the office and pointed to it.
“Help yourself to cushions. Stay down there. At my feet.”
She grinned at the request. Jason booted up his laptop and began the laborious task of sorting through his e-mail by prioritising and dismissing
“Thank you for the kind words. I will try, Master. But you must accept I won’t always go to those places with you.”
He wasn’t convinced, far from it. Humiliation or exhibitionism were not hard limits any longer, certainly in the private arenas he had created for their play, and he wasn’t going to restrict their usage. His chosen scenes weren’t requests to be declined. The word “try” wasn’t acceptable when “do” was what he expected. He would plan a scene that would require her acquiescence once and for all.
“Go shower. Let Maria braid your hair. We will dine early. No need to keep Spanish times for meals any longer.”
***
Jason left Gemma in the pool, taking his robe from Enrique as he returned indoors.
Though the water play had been fun, Gemma had found the sex too swift to take any erotic pleasure. The added knowledge that the crew had watched them had dampened her desires. Such a blatant weakness had been unearthed by her husband, then prised apart and dissected.
Talking to Jason with her back to him had given her the courage to describe her first scene of humiliation. She’d wondered if Jason found her behaviour to be no different from a whore. It had been how she felt inside after the foolhardy encounter in the bike shed. However, he hadn’t called her a whore. That had been her own conclusion.
Maria handed her a towel. “Another time, he will think of you.”
Gemma couldn’t hide her disappointment. She would find a way to make him want her again.
***
When Gemma came down from the sundeck with a towelling robe draped around her , Jason waited at the bottom of the stairs. She had taken the opportunity for late evening sunbathing in the dregs of the day’s heat, while he had a post-meal coffee and chat with McKenzie regarding the route for the next few days.
Jason needed to work. An unfortunate necessity, as one of his favoured acquisitions had reached a critical stage of the negotiations. E-mails flew around, and meetings were happening in his absence. Reading between the lines, he had a sense of foreboding.
The sun had set, and the stars had come out in abundance.
“I love it up there,” she told him. “I could spend hours looking at the constellations, drifting between the stars like a comet in space.”
Not a surprising admission for Jason to hear, her love of open, stark places was entrenched in her bloodstream. He suggested she check the Internet for maps of the stars and try to spot the major constellations.
She shook her head. “I prefer to make up my own names and designs in the sky.” She stretched a hand above her head, drawing lines in the air.
He caught a glimpse of her breasts as she painted her imaginary lines, the henna tattoo made them pert and gloriously enlarged. He adored the delicious curvature of each breast. Jason headed to the office, and he backtracked to fetch a large, thick blanket from the storage box.
“Come with me.” He waved a finger, and she arched her eyebrows in response. “Actually, go find something to entertain yourself. I don’t want you bored.”
Gemma returned with her Kindle. Greatly to his pleasure, she had removed the robe to reveal her nudity. Jason laid the blanket out on the floor of the office and pointed to it.
“Help yourself to cushions. Stay down there. At my feet.”
She grinned at the request. Jason booted up his laptop and began the laborious task of sorting through his e-mail by prioritising and dismissing
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