by Jaye Peaches
As voices talked over and around me, I was very conscious of the need to keep my knees tight together. My knickerless state was distracting and I could not keep up with the flow of conversation. I was starting to look like an empty-headed frivolous girl, with an inability to talk sensibly to anyone. I suspected this humiliation was what Jason intended. He was busy enjoying himself on the golf course while I squirmed and looking ridiculous on my bar stool. I was starting to feel angry and if truth be told, furious. Was this public humiliation or did he consider his golf course to be a private arena? It did not matter to me as I was seriously pissed off with the entire knickerless situation.
The golfers drifted in for lunch after the ninth hole and Jason was one of the first to arrive looking pleased with himself, his round was going well I deduced. He bent down and planted a kiss on my cheek.
“Comfortable, Gemma?” His voice was laced with amusement.
I glared at him, trying very hard to communicate my state of affairs silently.
“Let’s eat,” he said.
He took my arm and led me, with the other wives and girlfriends, to the restaurant. The layout was a buffet style, with a selection of salads, cold meats and cheese. The men stood in one corner, reliving the morning’s round with exaggerated mock swings and putts. Jason was to one side talking in a hushed voice to an older man. The women were milling about, interweaving and picking at their food. Jason took pity on me and broke his conversation to come across to me. Putting his plate down, he introduced me to his companion.
“Gemma, this is Philip Hills, a very important person in my company.”
Philip looked uncomfortable at the compliment. However he took my hand and shook it warmly.
“Pleasure is mine, Miss Marshall. I never had the chance to meet you while you were working for us.”
“Please call me, Gemma.”
Meeting Jason’s deputy was confirmation of Jason’s commitment to me and an introduction to a significant person in Jason’s life was encouraging.
Jason glanced at his watch, ever the timekeeper.
“Time to hit the last nine.”
Over the next two hours, I coped without any embarrassing moments. I managed to acquire an appropriate chair to sit on and I had more success in conversing with the other women. The golfing partners returned as each of their rounds finished. Jason appeared and I could tell by his expression that he had won his game. Taking me around the waist, he murmured in my ear.
“I want a progress report, Miss Marshall.” He lowered his hand and caressed my bottom briefly.
I flinched and he tutted back at me. Some of the others were leaving and the general hubbub died down. Soon we were left with a few couples who were staying for an extended drinking session.
“Come.”
Jason rose from his seat having finished his coffee and led me out of the bar and down a corridor. At the end was an office, he opened the door and I followed him in. He leant back on the door and turned the key in the lock as he did. Moving around the room he systematically closed the venetian blinds blocking out the light and any unintended audience. My heart was beating in my throat.
“This is the club manager’s office. He doesn’t work on Sundays so we won’t be disturbed,” explained Jason.
He went and sat behind the desk, swinging back on the swivel chair, hands behind his head. Blue eyes looking me up and down. I kept my eyes down looking at my feet, hands clasped behind my back. Jason waved me over with a finger and indicated I should stand next to his chair behind the desk.
“Down!” he commanded in that way that made my legs buckled away underneath me.
Oh crikey! I knelt at his feet and steadied my breathing.
His body maybe relaxed but his face had hardened up. “Lift your skirt up.”
I pulled my skirt up high, above my waist, parting my legs more. I knew what he wanted to see.
“Kneel up, so I can touch you.”
I grimaced at the pressure on my kneecaps as they took my weight. He grasped my sex in one hand and began to rub back and forth. I shut my eyes and groaned. Then he smacked me from underneath and I jolted, brought out of my reverie. He pressed a finger on my lower lip, pushing it down to open my mouth. I sucked on it, tasting my own wetness on it.
The shoulder straps of my dress top were roughly pulled down. He pinched my bra cups and uncovered each breast in turn. I must have looked shameless, skirt hitched up and breasts exposed. His fingers pinched my nipples and with a vicious twist of his wrists, he screwed both of my nipples round, pulling them sharply away at the same time. I made a silent scream, too shocked to add sound to the exclamation. Tipping my head back, my chest forward, I clutched my ankles to support my weight. For several minutes, he was exceptionally mean to my tits. Drawing pain out of me slowly and I experienced a brief moment of intense pain before he stopped. His hand stroked me below and for a moment I wondered if I might come with the gesture.
“Such a wet creature down there. I like my girl being wet for me.”
“She is, sir. Ready for you.”
No further words were spoken as he grabbed the hair at the back of my head and pulled my face down to his lap. Unzipping his fly, he held his hard, purple tipped penis in his hands and thrust it in my mouth for me to use. I noisily licked and tongued his substantial shaft, and he leant back, eyes shut, enjoying my blow-job. He quickly showed signs of climaxing, suddenly sitting forward, he pushed me further into his mouth. I gagged and the reflex sent him into a powerful release. Jason hardly made a sound as I swallowed his salty juice. I turned my mouth away and wiped a trickle away from my lips.
“Straighten yourself up. It is time to head home.” He stood and adjusted his trousers. I busied myself with bra and dress.
“Wipe your lips, your lipstick is smudged.” He held my chin, inspecting me.
I took a tissue from the desk top, cleaned my lips and tossed the tissue in a bin. I was so wet below I dreaded sitting in case it soaked through my dress fabric.
“That will do.”
Jason unlocked the door and his face softened. Taking my hand, he patted it.
“I’m pleased, Gemma. A good round of golf followed by a good face fuck. A perfect Sunday don’t you think?”
I gave a fake smile in agreement, deep down I was left used and unfulfilled. I had obeyed him without question and he had given me nothing in return. No orgasm or even a tender caress. I had to remind myself this was what submission was often about - my needs were negligible, his were everything. His Sunday was perfect and my perception of the day was of no consequence to him. A good sub would be over the moon with her performance in the golf club. I wanted something else from him but I knew he was not going to provide me with it - his love.
Arriving back home, Jason requested a full Sunday roast with all the trimmings. I found a fresh chicken in the fridge waiting to be cooked and spent the next two hours pottering around in the kitchen preparing the roast. The main consolation was that he had allowed me to change into clothes that were more casual and I had underwear back on.
“This is great, Gemma. Like my mum makes it,” Jason cleared his plate after having seconds. “Aren’t you hungry?”
I had been eating slowly, too slowly. “I’m fine.”
My answer must have been too terse because he was starting to look annoyed with me.
“Oh Gemma, Gemma. What am I to do with you?” his eyes rolled up to the ceiling. A rhetorical question. “There is obviously something wrong.”
What could I say to him? How to explain to him - I could not reconcile the Jason who was tender and sensitive when my friend was hurt, and the Jason who treated me like his slut that afternoon. I had fallen in love a man who came in two parts and I wanted to bring them together into one but how? When would he open up and tell me his real feelings toward me? I could not wait forever.
“We need to leave at nine o’clock. You’d better clear up.”
The
conversation was over and the unresolved issues were left on the table to fester.
***
My first day at work was a whirlwind of meetings, setting up my computer and meeting new faces. There were only forty employees in the company and I loved that we were all on the same floor. I was given my own office. The room was cramped, but the space was mine and I marked it by hanging a picture on the wall. I ended up working longer than I planned, but I wanted to make a good impression. By the end of the week, when I checked my timesheet, I had worked far longer than my contracted hours.
My new workplace had a different atmosphere to Jason’s company. Lunch was a hurried affair for everyone and there was no communal dining area to escape to for a break. In its place, there was a small kitchen with a microwave and kettle. A few of my colleagues huddle together around each other’s desk while chatting. I tried hard to make connections with people. I could not afford to have another job become a dead end. My resume would not survive the ignominy.
I was assigned a small project to break me in and immediately I was in at the deep end. With a small company there was little hierarchy or formality. It also meant having to resolve issues without much support. The computer was only partially set up and I had to use a remote support desk to fine tune my settings. A foreign voice down the end of the phone was disconcerting and I was glad my background in computing had given me a head start with technical issues. I relished the opportunity to put my career back on track.
I arrived chauffeured by Gibson, causing me to feel awkward and self-conscious. I was not to leave the building without her escort. After what had happened to Trudy, I was not arguing about the increased security.
Tuesday arrived and I had a surprise visitor. A tap on my door and I looked up to find Jason standing in the doorway.
“Jason!” I could not hide my delight.
For a minute I panicked with the idea he was going to shut the door and perform a repeat of Sunday afternoon on me.
“I was driving by on the way back from a meeting.” He perched on the edge of my desk.
I could see Martinson standing outside in the corridor. I wondered what the others would make of my boyfriend turning up unannounced with a personal guard. With the exception of Daniel, who was familiar with Jason’s name and company, the others were oblivious of the significant ‘other’ in my life. Martinson was walking up and down, eyeing up the windows and doors with his professional eye. It dawned on me that the visit was an excuse for my safety to be checked out. I was comforted that Jason took my safety so seriously that he came in person.
“I have something for you.” He reached inside his jacket pocket. He handed me an invitation ticket with my name printed on the glossy surface.
“An invite to my company’s annual Winter Masquerade Ball, this Saturday evening,” he pushed the ticket across the desk to me.
“Jason, how wonderful.” I picked the shiny ticket up. For a minute, I pondered certain issues.
“You don’t look pleased,” admonished Jason.
“There will be lots of people from your company. I don’t think I can face them knowing. Not after all those rumours.” I held the ticket in my hand and looked up into his blazing blue eyes as he digested my comment.
“Well, for starters. It is not every one in the company. I invite the senior executives, managers and their partners. Other business partners and minor celebrities who support my charitable foundation. They are completely unaware of you and have no interest in office gossip. Having a ticket is a privilege. Most of my staff would be falling over themselves to receive an invite. You’re going because I want you on my arm, smiling your beautiful smile and shaking numerous hands. I promise not to take you off into some secluded room and fuck you, since this seems to be an issue with you. At some point we will address your dislike of humiliation in substantial detail,” his voice was super quiet, head bending down so only I could hear him.
I turned crimson. My discomfort over Sunday’s sexual encounter was more apparent than I intended.
“Thank you very much, Jason. I would be delighted to attend your ball,” I looked up at him and smiled my sweetest smile.
“Good. Then it is settled. You will need a ball gown and a mask. There is a number on the back of the ticket where you can obtain something suitable. The theme is African wildlife.” I turned the ticket over and noted the phone number and website address.
“What will you be going as?” I inquired.
“Why, Miss Marshall. The lion king. See you later.” He turned on his heel and was gone.
Chapter 18
The week flew by. I was busy with learning the ropes in my new job. I barely saw Jason and our only sexual encounter was on Wednesday night. The sex had been brief, rough and to the point. I thought both of us needed it to be brisk, relieving are own personal stresses in a mutually beneficial fashion. The orgasm had been certainly worthwhile and he did not keep me waiting too long for relief. The act of intercourse was limited by my period. Jason solution to my menstruation was to make use of other holes.
Oral was becoming increasingly routine. I was not even sure if Jason saw it as full blown sexual activity. He was happy for me to suck away to bring him to satisfaction and give me nothing back in return. I was, for the duration of a blow-job, his service submissive performing his desired request as efficiently as possible. As I had my period, I was turned over and told to stick my bum up for him. He was generous with the lubricant but beyond that he fucked me no differently to vaginal sex.
He had asked me about having sex during my period earlier in our relationship and I had shaken my head when he said he had no problem with vaginal sex as long as there were towels down on the bed. I had blanched completely at the idea. Little buttons of panic had fired off in my head at the idea of blood and sex. Something in my face must have alerted him to my rising levels of stress.
“OK, nothing in your pussy, don’t worry. Most girls don’t like it, especially with the cramps,” he had patted my thigh.
It was not the cramps that had put me off the idea.
“I’ll fuck your arse instead,” he had said matter-of-factly.
I had nodded as if I was perfectly happy with the set-up. The reality was I was losing my thoughts to a place I did not want to go to.
“Gemma, babe, what’s wrong?” had asked Jason softly.
“If you don’t mind, when I get my period, can you just not talk about it,” I had said quietly. “Just do what you want, but don’t make a fuss.”
“OK,” he had said with a shrug.
On the Wednesday he did just that. I had sucked him into a hard rod and turned over for him to use my bum. His fingers had frigged me from below and I came quickly. Regardless of his expertise in bringing me to a climax, it had been another unromantic encounter between the sheets and did nothing for my reservations. I gave and he took, the dynamics were as we agreed and yet it was not sufficient for me any longer. The whole proceedings were over in less than half hour and he fell asleep untroubled, while I lingered in wakefulness, fretting over things.
Trudy’s mother rang me on Thursday to tell me Trudy had been discharged and she was now living with her mum. Trudy’s memory of the attack had not come back. I was relieved for her. In my experience, it was better not to remember anything. The police had lost the trail of her attacker, without a description they could not confirm his identity. Even with the threatening text message, there were no firm leads. The stolen mobile he had used to contact me had never switched on again and the police were convinced he had disposed of the device. I could not bring myself to see Trudy, not while he was on the loose.
***
Friday I bought my ball gown and my mask arrived in the post. Jason and I were staying at Piedmont for the weekend. There would not be any play in his lair.
I hovered outside Jason’s study. Nearly ten o’clock and apart from a brief exchange over dinner it had been another day where he seemed absent in my
life. Sticking my head into his room I found Jason not at his desk but staring out the window as the rain poured down outside.
“Hi. Just wondering if you wanted anything. Wine? Sir?” I held the door handle in my hand, not knowing whether to come in properly.
He answered my question by waving me in. Closing the blinds down, he turned to look at me. That unreadable face again. I waited for him to answer.
“I’m fine.” He reached me in a few graceful steps.
He was dressed in jeans and t-shirt, most unboss-like. Younger looking, heart meltingly handsome and I could see the bulge in his pants. Whenever I was in close proximity to him, I found my face flushed with blood, pangs of desire in my loins and skin prickled with goose bumps. I was desperate to stretch myself out and give over my body to him. He pulled on my waistband and clutched me in his arms. Kisses were pressed hard on my neck and face. I undid the buttons on my jeans and pushed them off my hips so they slipped down to my ankles
“Gem. I need you so much. I’m so glad you’re here with me,” his voice oozed into my ears.
He pulled me to his desk and I perched my bum on the edge. His lips had not left me. It did not take more than a few minutes for him to be inside me, stretching me and probing deep. My knickers were ripped off and lying on the floor. With a gentle shove, he pushed me back and I lay on his desk, head hanging off the edge, my legs up in a V shape and he continued to pummel in and out of me, my hips held firmly in his hands.
“Come for me, baby. Let me hear you,” he groaned at me.
I did and the orgasm was good, exquisite and rippled on deliciously. Jason was more urgent, abrupt and violent reaching deep inside me, planting his seed with force.
