cheekbone.
“Why?” she asked.
“Your orgasms are mine. You may choose to come, but I will control them for my own purpose. If I wish to ruin them, then I shall. Pain or pleasure is mine to choose. Now, be honest. Was that not an incredible orgasm I gave you?” He lay next to her.
The tear was there for a clear reason in her mind, the part that didn’t always submit rebelled and kept reminding herself not to be a victim, not to be a hostage to her body’s needs.
“Gemma?”
“I loved the orgasm, but I’m hating myself for it.” She shuddered slightly.
“Babe?” He ran his finger down the side of her face and wiped away the tear. “I want you to thrive on what I can do to your body. The pleasure you take from being controlled, not necessarily the pain. Such a thrill for me, knowing you can take what I throw at you and still send yourself into your own world of submissive ecstasy and pleasure.”
Examining the crumpled sheets of the bed, Gemma pondered, letting his words sink into her mind. “I’m a masochist. I get high on pain. That is what you are telling me.”
“Gem, why do you keep denying this to yourself? We’ve had this conversation many times, and yet, you are surprised every time I push you further and you continue to respond. I will make you a divine masochist, Gemma. A pain slut. A perfect match for me. The Dom and sub part nurtures us, the sadomasochism makes us complete. I’m not saying we should engage in more depraved sex or change our limits. They are as they should be. I’m not going back to where I came from. What we have available to us is sufficient. Yes?”
Gemma snuggled into his chest, and he kissed her hair.
“I love this braid, baby.”
His diminished erection twitched against her thigh.
“I ruined your fuck,” she said meekly. “I’m sorry. I’m ready for you, Sir. I’m yours, always yours.” She kissed his neck, where the collarbones met. “Fuck me hard, Master. Please fuck me.”
Grabbing her braid, he pulled her up onto her knees and rose to face her. His eyes pierced hers, and she dropped her own.
“Slaves don’t get to ask, do they?” He began playfully but, as he spoke, the stern tone returned. “I will fuck you hard, my needy one. I reckon we have half an hour before reaching the marina. Half an hour of fucking you senseless.”
A world rapidly approaching through their windows, lights brightening, drawing closer. He reached for the remote control and entombed them from the outside world.
“Are you ready for your Master now? No more thinking of yourself. You will forget your concerns, your impediments to my pleasure, yes? You are my slave, my collection of fuckholes, my masochist to torment, and my submissive to control. Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered, and she immediately complied. His words of domination were all it took to bring her back to him, to be his and give herself wholly.
Rough, passionate, and varied positions of sex. For half an hour, she kept her mouth shut save for her moans and pants. After he had delved into her body, he achieved his eager ejaculation over her breasts. When he had finished, he left her to bathe himself.
The scent of soap, drifting out of the bathroom, awoke Gemma from her torpor, and she stumbled into hers to shower in tepid water. Maria dried her hair, re-braiding it, and clothed her in a long summer dress of white.
***
Gemma joined Jason on the main deck, where he watched the crew tying the yacht to their slot on the marina jetty. A few had gathered to watch the arrival of Sublime, and Gemma waved at the strange faces. Relaxed and happy, she snuggled up to him, and he drew her closer. Such fantastic, kinky sex he had given her.
“Let’s dine,” said Jason. “See what Dario has to offer us this evening. We’ll visit the sights of Ceuta tomorrow.”
They dined alone in the cavernous dining salon on a mixture of Spanish and Moroccan flavours. New tastes and textures for Gemma and
“Why?” she asked.
“Your orgasms are mine. You may choose to come, but I will control them for my own purpose. If I wish to ruin them, then I shall. Pain or pleasure is mine to choose. Now, be honest. Was that not an incredible orgasm I gave you?” He lay next to her.
The tear was there for a clear reason in her mind, the part that didn’t always submit rebelled and kept reminding herself not to be a victim, not to be a hostage to her body’s needs.
“Gemma?”
“I loved the orgasm, but I’m hating myself for it.” She shuddered slightly.
“Babe?” He ran his finger down the side of her face and wiped away the tear. “I want you to thrive on what I can do to your body. The pleasure you take from being controlled, not necessarily the pain. Such a thrill for me, knowing you can take what I throw at you and still send yourself into your own world of submissive ecstasy and pleasure.”
Examining the crumpled sheets of the bed, Gemma pondered, letting his words sink into her mind. “I’m a masochist. I get high on pain. That is what you are telling me.”
“Gem, why do you keep denying this to yourself? We’ve had this conversation many times, and yet, you are surprised every time I push you further and you continue to respond. I will make you a divine masochist, Gemma. A pain slut. A perfect match for me. The Dom and sub part nurtures us, the sadomasochism makes us complete. I’m not saying we should engage in more depraved sex or change our limits. They are as they should be. I’m not going back to where I came from. What we have available to us is sufficient. Yes?”
Gemma snuggled into his chest, and he kissed her hair.
“I love this braid, baby.”
His diminished erection twitched against her thigh.
“I ruined your fuck,” she said meekly. “I’m sorry. I’m ready for you, Sir. I’m yours, always yours.” She kissed his neck, where the collarbones met. “Fuck me hard, Master. Please fuck me.”
Grabbing her braid, he pulled her up onto her knees and rose to face her. His eyes pierced hers, and she dropped her own.
“Slaves don’t get to ask, do they?” He began playfully but, as he spoke, the stern tone returned. “I will fuck you hard, my needy one. I reckon we have half an hour before reaching the marina. Half an hour of fucking you senseless.”
A world rapidly approaching through their windows, lights brightening, drawing closer. He reached for the remote control and entombed them from the outside world.
“Are you ready for your Master now? No more thinking of yourself. You will forget your concerns, your impediments to my pleasure, yes? You are my slave, my collection of fuckholes, my masochist to torment, and my submissive to control. Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered, and she immediately complied. His words of domination were all it took to bring her back to him, to be his and give herself wholly.
Rough, passionate, and varied positions of sex. For half an hour, she kept her mouth shut save for her moans and pants. After he had delved into her body, he achieved his eager ejaculation over her breasts. When he had finished, he left her to bathe himself.
The scent of soap, drifting out of the bathroom, awoke Gemma from her torpor, and she stumbled into hers to shower in tepid water. Maria dried her hair, re-braiding it, and clothed her in a long summer dress of white.
***
Gemma joined Jason on the main deck, where he watched the crew tying the yacht to their slot on the marina jetty. A few had gathered to watch the arrival of Sublime, and Gemma waved at the strange faces. Relaxed and happy, she snuggled up to him, and he drew her closer. Such fantastic, kinky sex he had given her.
“Let’s dine,” said Jason. “See what Dario has to offer us this evening. We’ll visit the sights of Ceuta tomorrow.”
They dined alone in the cavernous dining salon on a mixture of Spanish and Moroccan flavours. New tastes and textures for Gemma and
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