The Taming of Jessica (12 page)

This time, when he picked the asparagus up, he did so with his fingers. The butter ran down on to his hand, and Jessica licked it from his skin. She thought she heard a groan from the other side of the table as she did.

The final piece was almost dangled before her face, and when she bit at it, the butter trickled onto her chin. Damon wiped it up with his finger, which he pushed between her lips. Jessica suckled it, and as she did she felt a hand stroke her thigh through her dress. She knew it had to be Jason caressing her, but she kept her attention firmly on Damon, knowing he was her focus tonight. Though those men who owned slaves for the week appeared to rank higher in the resort’s pecking order than those who were single, Barada was clearly the alpha male in the room, and she gave him the deference he was due.

While their empty plates were being cleared away, he grew bolder in his approach.

‘So, Jason,’ he said, slipping an arm around Jessica’s shoulders, ‘how are you enjoying your stay here?’

‘Very much,’ her master replied. ‘When people told me this place was a dominant male’s dream come true, I wasn’t sure I believed them, but now – well, if anything, it’s even better than they said.’

‘And you’re making the most of having a submissive beauty at your beck and call?’ Almost as if unaware of what he was doing, Barada let his hand drop onto Jessica’s breast. He brushed her nipple with the tip of his thumb. She glanced over to Jason, wondering how he was reacting to Barada’s decision to exercise his
droit de seigneur
so openly. It was a foolish thing to worry about, she knew; hadn’t she already been effectively handed over by Max to whoever might care to use her? But, deep down, she had come to think of herself as Jason’s, at least until this bizarre week was over, and she could do nothing without his permission. When he gave the subtlest nod of acknowledgement, she knew he was enjoying the thought of what might be about to happen.

‘Of course.’ Jason replied to the question Jessica had almost forgotten Barada had asked. ‘You’ve already seen what she can do with her mouth. And she’s just as talented with her fingers, believe me.’

‘Really? I must bear that in mind, though it’s pretty hard for her to do anything with them in those gloves, hey?’ Damon reached his hand into the neckline of her dress, and caressed her bare breast. She knew the other diners at the table would be able to see the precise movements of his fingers through the diaphanous fabric.

Even when the waitress arrived with their main course – fillets of a meaty white fish she didn’t recognise, served with lightly steamed vegetables and spiced rice – he didn’t stop fondling her. He forked fish and rice into his mouth with one hand, while the other continued to cup and squeeze her breasts. From time to time, he fed her from her own plate, while Jason, Malcolm, and Cyrus chatted among themselves and tucked into their food as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. All the while, the waitresses kept circulating, topping up the glasses of the guests. Even Jessica was allowed a few sips of wine, with her master putting the glass to her lips so she could drink.

At last, Damon pushed his plate away. ‘D’you want to know a secret?’ he said. ‘The fish we’ve just eaten – that was a 70-pound blue marlin, and I caught it myself this morning. It fought like hell, but I reeled it in eventually.’

‘It was delicious,’ Malcolm commented, ‘but then there’s nothing like really fresh fish.’

‘And sea fishing’s the best exercise there is,’ Damon replied. ‘Really builds up the biceps. Just what you need if you know you’re going to be spanking a naughty girl’s ass.’

While they waited for their dessert, Damon changed his mode of attack. Having groped Jessica’s breasts till her nipples were ripe and aching, he scooped each heavy globe from out of the dress’s neckline in turn, and left them there, proudly bare. As shameful as his casual exposure of her body might be, Jessica shivered with the thrill of knowing her tits were now the focus of all four men seated round the table. If Max were to glance over now, he would see exactly what Damon had done to her, and know that she had submitted willingly to the desires of their host.

Damon slipped his hand beneath the crisp white tablecloth, so he could massage her pussy through her dress. He pushed the thin chiffon between her pouting lips, wetting the fabric in the juices that gathered there. His grin was wolfish, the tracery of lines around his eyes deepening. He could tell just how much being played with so publicly was turning her on.

‘I could have you coming in front of every man here, just like that –’ His fingertip brushed over her clit, even that light, casual touch causing her to writhe in her seat with frustrated longing. ‘Max should have brought you here so much sooner. The fun we’ve missed out on …’

Jessica whimpered, fighting to retain a measure of control. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘I’m not allowed to come without my master’s permission.’

‘And would he punish you if you did?’

‘I’m sure he would,’ she replied, knowing her words were giving Damon all the encouragement he needed to keep stroking her so intimately.

‘Your dessert, sir.’

The words distracted Damon from his explorations, as the waitress set down a small metal stand in the centre of the table. She carefully balanced a flame-red ceramic pot on the stand, before lighting a flame beneath the contraption.

‘Ah, chocolate fondue. My favourite,’ Damon said with obvious pleasure.

Beside the fondue pot, the waitress placed a tray, laden with pieces of fruit – chunks of banana, whole strawberries, slices of kiwi and star fruit – as well as mini marshmallows and bite-size pieces of sponge cake, all designed to be dipped into the rich, gooey chocolate mixture.

‘Do dig in, please, gentlemen,’ Damon instructed, once the waitress had moved on to perform the same ritual at the next table. He picked up one of the long-handled, two-pronged forks provided, and speared a piece of banana, which he dipped into the fondue before popping the confection into his mouth. Repeating the action with a strawberry, he offered the fruit to Jessica. He took no more care than he had with the asparagus, and chocolate – hot, but not painfully so – dripped onto her right breast. Whether he’d planned that to happen or not she wasn’t entirely sure, but as she chewed on the proffered strawberry, Damon bent to lick the traces of fondue from her skin.

He helped himself to a couple more pieces of fruit, then a marshmallow. Jessica sat patiently watching. The men were joking among themselves as they dipped their forks in the fondue. A roar went up from one of the other tables, and Jessica turned her head to see what might be the cause of the commotion. Adele had risen to her feet, and Simone’s husband had pushed back his chair and was patting his lap as he waited for her to climb onto it.

‘In Switzerland, it’s traditional for the diner to pay some kind of forfeit if whatever they’re dipping in the fondue falls from the fork and can’t be retrieved,’ Damon explained. ‘Here, it’s the table slave who pays.’

Hearing that, Jessica sucked in a breath. Would the other diners at her table let their titbits of food drop into the pot on purpose, in the hope of spanking her? Would she find herself being pulled over Cyrus’s knee, or old Malcolm’s, and receiving a half-dozen hard swats to her naked rump, just like Simone was getting now? Part of her hoped desperately that wouldn’t happen, even as the rest of her hoped it would.

But the two men seemed more interested in the show Damon was putting on for them, feeding Jessica in a deliberately messy fashion, so that more of each forkful went on her tits than in her mouth and had to be licked from her skin. Soon, her master had joined in the fun; as he suckled on one nipple and Damon on the other, all pretence that this had ever been about food dispensed with, Jessica writhed against the seat and silently begged for permission to come.

Damon had set down his fork, and now his hand was at her pussy again, pushing the saturated fabric up into her hole, each movement causing the chiffon to brush against her clit and give her almost, but not quite enough stimulation to push her into a forbidden orgasm. It would, she knew, only take a very little more of this treatment and she would be screaming out her pleasure to the whole room, every eye on her as she came around Barada’s thick, probing fingers. The punishment that followed such an indiscretion would no doubt be quite spectacular, but she didn’t care, just as long as her master would say the words she longed to hear …

‘Are you finished, sir?’ The waitress’ voice broke the erotic spell. Jason sat upright, pulling away from Jessica, and Damon let her nipple slip from his lips to answer the girl.

‘Yes, you can take everything away and bring us coffee when you’re ready.’

That seemed to be the cue for the conversation to return to more mundane matters.

‘Do you mind if I slip out for a cigarette?’ Cyrus asked, reaching into his pocket to pull out a silver cigarette case bearing a monogrammed “C”.

Barada shook his head. ‘Not at all. But hurry back soon. That little redhead slut who served us dessert doesn’t think I saw her spill a couple of strawberries on the floor as she cleared the plates away, but I did, and I’m going to make damn sure she gets the appropriate punishment.’

‘Well, before the fun begins, I need some air,’ Jason said. ‘Come with me, Jessica.’

He pulled out her chair, leaving his jacket, which he’d removed at some point between their main course and dessert, draped over the back of his own, and guided her to her feet. Obediently, Jessica trotted after him as he left the room, not even turning her head to see whether Max had noticed them go. They stepped out to join Cyrus on the veranda, where he stood leaning on the balustrade, staring out at the ocean. The moon hung low and full in the sky, casting its cold light over the gently rippling waves.

Noticing them standing close by, Cyrus took a reflective drag on his cigarette and nodded to them. ‘You think this view is something,’ he said. ‘Well, you should see the way the pool looks tonight.’

‘Pool?’ Jessica couldn’t help asking, even though she knew her master would chastise her later for speaking out of turn.

‘D’you want to see it?’ Jason asked. When she nodded, he commanded, ‘Follow me, then.’

He took her down a short flight of steps that led off the side of the veranda, and across a stretch of marble tiling that led to the resort’s spa area – something she should have guessed a complex such as this would possess.

If this had been the kind of holiday she’d hoped for when Max had first told her he was bringing her to Isla Barada, she knew she’d have spent plenty of her time here. Back in London, she enjoyed nothing more than a girly spa day with her friends, being massaged and pampered and swapping gossip over a cocktail in the bar afterwards. She wondered if she would ever feel able to tell those friends about all the depraved things that had been done to her during the last few days, and how much she had enjoyed being used and abused by Barada’s wealthy guests.

The waters of the hot tub were silent at the moment, waiting for someone to press the button and send them churning into life. How tempting it would be to slip into that tub, and let the bubbling jets massage her skin. If she sat in just the right position, she’d be able to direct those jets right onto her clit, and reawaken the delicious feelings that had been cut short when the waitress had interrupted their kinky little scene.

With some difficulty, she dragged her mind away from her own need for gratification, and continued her contemplation of the spa facilities. The infinity pool was the real centrepiece. It must, she thought, have cost Damon Barada a fortune to have its foundations cut into the hillside, so that as swimmers approached the far edge, they received the impression that the water was about to tumble into nothingness, the lip of the pool merging seamlessly with the horizon. With darkness fallen and the moon so bright in the sky, the view might have been diminished, but spotlights built into the pool’s blue-tiled walls revealed the full glory of its other asset – the mosaic relief on its bottom. Mimicking the designs of Ancient Rome, it depicted mermaids frolicking with what appeared to be Neptune, the god of the sea.

Taking a couple of steps nearer to the edge of the pool, Jessica took a closer look at the design. Of course it had been given Damon’s signature erotic twist, and Neptune appeared to be quite enjoying the attention of his bare-breasted companions, given by the size of the erection that jutted out from the folds of his robe.

‘Come on, Jessica,’ Jason said from somewhere behind her, ‘we’re going back for coffee now.’

‘Yes, sir.’ She knew she should follow him at once, but she couldn’t resist taking one last, slow look around. After all, there was no chance of her coming back here before the end of her stay, and she had to imprint the beauty of the night sky and the gently rippling waters of the pool on her memory.

‘Hurry up, girl, don’t dawdle!’

Jessica turned sharply at the sound of her master’s command, only for the heel of her shoe to snap right off. She lost her balance, toppling backwards into the pool. Her mouth and nose filled with chlorinated water, and panic overtook her. Jessica had never been the strongest of swimmers and now, with her hands fastened behind her in a bondage glove that was impossible for her to remove unaided, she sank like a stone towards the bottom of the pool. Not wanting her last sight on earth to be the tiled outline of Neptune’s grotesquely huge cock, she kicked off her shoes and did her best to push upwards, managing to break the surface briefly and scream for help, for her master, for Max.

Then she was sinking again, struggling in the folds of wet chiffon that hampered the movement of her legs. Closing her eyes tight, certain this was the end, she uttered a silent prayer. Then something cleaved the water with a heavy splash. Strong arms wrapped themselves around her from behind, and she was being hauled up, and towards the steps at the shallow end of the pool.

‘Hey, take it easy, Jessica,’ Jason’s voice murmured, as he worked to unbuckle the bondage glove with one hand while holding her steady with the other. Once he had worked it down and off her arms, he tossed it onto the tiled lip of the pool, then helped her up the steps and out to safety. Still clinging to him, she coughed up a little water, feeling sick and disorientated, but all too conscious of how much worse things might have been without her master’s intervention.