The Taming of Jessica (15 page)

When that thick digit began to move, flicking at her clit, Jessica found she no longer cared who he might be. Between his expert stimulation of her pussy, and Cologne Man’s ruthless groping of her tits, she was being taken swiftly to the point of orgasm.

Jason must have recognised the signs, for he snapped, ‘Ease back. Don’t get the slut too excited. After all, I haven’t decided whether she’ll be allowed to come or not.’

She moaned. He almost never called her “slut” when they were alone, and he certainly didn’t toss the word around in the casual way the other masters did when they addressed their submissive, but using it now, emphasising her role as a mere vehicle for the men’s pleasure, only excited her further. She was his slut, she knew it, existing only to do his bidding, and that knowledge gave her the freedom to permit whatever might be done to her.

The fingers were withdrawn from her panties, and she bit back a whimper of disappointment. Again nylon ripped, as the waistband of the flimsy underwear came apart with one hard yank. The ruined garment was pulled out from between her legs; she couldn’t see what he did with it, but the sound of gasps and raucous laughter suggested he’d held it up for them to view, and their reaction was to the sight of her juices. She could picture the way they shone against the sheer black fabric, and knew everyone in the room had seen the visible evidence of her excitement.

‘Isn’t it about time the men here got what they really wanted?’ Jason asked. ‘Down on your knees, Jessica.’

Being deprived of her sight made obeying a simple instruction all the more difficult. When she dropped slowly to the floor, her knee made contact with the sharp edge of the discarded belt buckle, and she yelped. Pulling it out from under her, she took a moment to surreptitiously explore its outline with her fingers. It reminded her of something; maybe, she thought, the horns of a cow. There was, she knew, more than one American here; perhaps one of them owned a cattle ranch, and that buckle symbolised his work, or his home state. Then she reminded herself she wasn’t supposed to be looking for clues to anyone’s identity, tempting though it might be. She was only here to serve.

A hard cock was presented to her mouth, and she swallowed it without protest. That familiar cologne lingered faintly in the hair at its owner’s groin; perhaps he’d handled himself while he dressed, fantasising about what Jason Raynes’s slut would be ordered to do to him, or perhaps he routinely spritzed down there.

He said nothing as she began to suck him, but his hips jerked, and his breath huffed out of him, harsh and fast. If she’d been close to the edge, he was even closer; when she slurped her tongue over his crown, he groaned and issued a muffled curse.

Buckle wanted in on the action too, for when she let the cock slip briefly from between her lips, his longer, thinner tool took its place. He tasted saltier, riper; unlike Cologne Man, he must not have washed before joining this little gathering. And a few experimental licks told her he wasn’t on the same hair trigger as his companion.

She found herself falling into a rhythm, alternating between the two men, lapping at each in turn. All the time, she was aware of putting on a performance for whoever else might be watching, her master not least among them.

Soon, Cologne Man grew tired of only receiving half her attention. Grasping her hair in his fists, he held her head steady so he could thrust hard into the O of her parted lips. He fucked her mouth with short, fast strokes, hitting the back of her throat with each one and almost making her gag. Jessica drooled helplessly around his girth, nothing more than a receptacle for his desires. She’d never had anyone show less regard for her, but she knew without her he’d be reduced to bringing himself off with his own fingers. And that knowledge made her strong, even as he weakened her with the sheer force of his physicality.

His come shot out, too fast for her to swallow. It trickled out of her mouth, and down onto her chin. When he finally pulled away, she rocked back on her heels, coughing and spluttering. But she was allowed no respite; Buckle immediately took his place.

Around her, she heard the sounds of men shuffling from foot to foot, waiting their turn. Somewhere behind her, clothing hit the floor, and she wondered who might be getting naked. Was her master standing with his dick in his hand, stroking himself as he watched her sucking off Buckle? And did he, as she suspected, have the biggest cock of any man here, or would she be forced to take something even larger in her mouth, or her pussy?

For all his earlier sangfroid, Buckle was coming dangerously close to losing his load. Unlike Cologne Man, he didn’t force the pace; if anything, he almost challenged Jessica to make him spend with the least amount of effort on his part. She laved him all the way from root to tip, covering every inch of his shaft with hot, slurping kisses, while her fingers toyed with his heavy balls. At last, when he began to show some emotion, grunting and trying to push himself a little deeper into her mouth, she stopped sucking him. Directing his cockhead in the direction of her breasts, she pumped his length hard in her fist, until she felt his spunk spatter her skin like warm rain.

Now her audience could have no doubt she’d brought both men to orgasm; the creamy trails on her face and breasts bore evidence to that. But still she didn’t know who else she would have to please before her deliciously erotic ordeal was over.

The tense silence that had fallen on the room while Jessica made Buckle come was finally broken by Jason’s voice. ‘Very good, girl. You’ve performed beautifully so far. But that was only the beginning. Let us take a break for a moment, gentlemen.’

She heard a bottle being opened, and liquid sloshing into glasses, straining her ears for any clue as to how many drinks were being poured. Her intentions were thwarted when Jason came close to her, and pressed a glass to her lips.

‘Drink this, my good girl.’

She burned under his praise, and the soft, lascivious tone in which his words were delivered. If the men were drinking alcohol, all that passed her lips was water, cool and soothing to a throat made dry by her oral exertions.

‘You’re doing very well,’ he told her. ‘If anything, what you’ve done so far has exceeded my expectations. But let’s get this off you, shall we?’

As he spoke, he pushed the torn nightdress from her shoulders. She let it fall to the floor, not caring what happened to it after that.

The other men seemed to have finished their drinks, for now someone else came to stand beside Jessica. Jason pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of her bare shoulder, then moved back to let the newcomer take centre stage.

Something was trailed over her body as she knelt up; she recognised the feel of soft suede as belonging to one of the toys in the pleasure chest Damon presented to all his guests. The flogger. Jason had whipped her with it before now, and it held little fear for her – at least when he wielded it. Who knew how this stranger might choose to use it?

Again she heard whispering, then Jason relayed the command. ‘Get on all fours, and spread your legs a little way apart.’

Jessica did as she was told, knowing the position displayed her bottom, and the juicy contours of her sex. Footsteps paced around her, as though someone was taking his time to admire the view she presented. She tensed, having no way of knowing where the whip might land, or when. She took strength from knowing that her master watched from close by, like a ringmaster controlling events.

The flogger’s tails swished through the air, fanning out as they landed on Jessica’s rump. She sucked in a breath, but the blow had been gentler than she’d expected. It fell again, and a third time; whoever held the whip was moving his arm in a side-to-side motion, so the tails fell on first one buttock, then the next. He settled into a steady rhythm, using the flogger to create a steadily burning heat in her arse.

Close by, she heard a soft slapping, the sound of skin on skin, and realised someone must be wanking as he watched her being flogged. The feel of the whip landing on the tops of her thighs, catching the tender flesh there, brought her punishment sharply back into focus.

He knew what he was doing, building the pain with stroke after well-placed stroke. If Jessica had been able to see her backside, she knew the skin would be flushing red, the colour deepening each time the flogger made its stinging connection.

Now, a couple of strokes lashed the inside of each thigh, and though up till now she had been holding her posture without difficulty, she couldn’t help reaching round to rub at the sore flesh.

‘Jessica …’ Was that a hint of strain in her master’s voice? Could he be the one who was pleasuring himself as he watched her being beaten?

‘I’m sorry, master, but it hurts,’ she said.

‘It’s meant to. Now hold still.’

She did her best to comply with the order as the flogger made contact with her arse again, landing on skin already well beaten. Gritting her teeth, keeping her limbs taut, she fought to ride out the pain, losing count of how many strokes she took before her mysterious punisher dropped the tool to the floor.

Jason gave her no further instruction, and all she could do was cast her head around, hoping to hear some clue as to what might be about to happen next – the ripping of a condom, or the sound of the drawer where the punishment implements were kept being pulled open again.

Instead, there was only silence, then the same rhythmic slapping she’d heard before, as an unseen fist shuttled along an erect cock. And was that a second hand, joining in with a rhythm that almost, but not quite, matched the first?

‘Jessica, I want you to touch yourself.’ Now there was no mistaking the hoarse quality to Jason’s voice, as though forming the words was an effort. ‘And I want you to tell me – tell everyone – what you’re doing.’

When he’d asked her before, on their first night together, she’d been so reticent to comply. And it still embarrassed her to have to reach between her own legs, where her sex hung like a ripe, exotic fruit, and to say, ‘I’m playing with my cunt, master. And I’m so wet and horny my juices are dripping down my legs.’ But she did it, causing a collective groan of lust from the watching men.

Her fingers moved faster, as her need to come overrode all other impulses. Dimly, she was aware that two men were masturbating near to her, their lust driven and matched by her own. Someone grunted, and she heard an exclamation that might have been in Spanish. Then hot ropes of what could only be come landed on her arse. She felt a hand smoothing the creamy fluid into her skin, and the thought of how that must look, coupled with the teasing touch of fingers that could have belonged to any of the men at the resort, pushed her towards a sense-shattering orgasm. She had just enough presence of mind to shriek, ‘Master, I’m going to come!’

‘Do it, Jessica. Do it,’ he urged her, and she almost lost her reason as the tension broke within her and she slumped to the floor, fingers still busily working in her sex as she climaxed.

Rolling over onto her back, she was greeted by another shower of come, splashing onto her breasts and belly. The groans that accompanied them had a familiar ring, and she knew without doubt it was Jason who had branded her with his essence.

Exhausted, she lay unable to move, while people moved around her. After a minute or so, the door opened and shut, and in the bathroom, the shower was turned on. Someone eased her gently into a sitting position, and the scarf was untied. When it was removed, she found herself staring into Jason’s bluer than blue eyes, the look in them one that caused something to melt within her. More than admiration, it was the gaze of a man who clearly had deep feelings for the woman he regarded. Feelings she didn’t particularly want to analyse right now.

She looked round, but they were alone, and nothing she could see in her immediate vicinity gave her any clues as to whose this suite might be.

‘He’s in the shower,’ was all Jason would say, ‘and he doesn’t expect us to be here when he comes out. Let’s go, Jessica.’

He took her hand, helping her to stand on legs that still trembled after everything she’d been put through. As they left the room, closing the door silently behind them, she couldn’t disguise the pride that swelled within her. She’d done everything Jason had asked of her, followed his every instruction, and pleasured a group of men on his command.

But still the question of which men she’d pleasured wouldn’t go away. At least her stay at the resort was almost over, for she knew that for the rest of her time here she’d be looking at all the males she passed in the corridor, or sat with at dinner, wondering which of them had flogged her, and which had come over her tits …

Jason pushed open the door of his room. ‘Let’s get you clean, you dirty girl,’ he said, and led her in the direction of his bathroom.

Chapter Sixteen

‘So, is submission everything you’d thought it would be?’ Honey asked, propping herself up on one elbow and winking at Jessica.

‘That depends on who’s asking,’ Jessica replied. She’d been expecting another session of discipline training on her last morning on the island, but instead Jason had said he wanted to spend some time on the beach.

‘After all,’ he’d said with a grin, ‘how will anyone know I’ve been on holiday if I don’t come home with a tan?’

She thought his skin looked appealingly sun-kissed already, but she hadn’t said anything, relishing the chance to pretend, however briefly, that this was nothing more than a standard week in the sun, rather than some kind of kinky boot camp for those in need of lessons in submission.

‘And if you’re good,’ he’d added, ‘I might even let you have a dip in the hot tub.

That, she had to admit, did sound like something worth being on her best behaviour for, though she knew she wouldn’t be able to go anywhere near the infinity pool without thinking about how close she’d come to losing her life in those innocuous-looking waters.

Now, Jason lay on a sun lounger to her left side, reading a day-old English newspaper that had been brought over with a delivery of supplies on an early-morning boat. ‘I see United won again,’ he commented to no one in particular, as he studied the sports pages.

‘I have to say you look like you’re enjoying yourself here,’ Honey continued. ‘You have a certain glow about you, Jessica, like you’re getting something you’ve wanted for a long time.’ She smiled. ‘It’s the look I get whenever Ray comes home with one of those cute blue Tiffany boxes.’

‘So where’s your master at the moment?’ Jessica asked, seeing no sign of Rafael anywhere. Normally, he liked to hover close enough to pick up on Honey’s latest indiscretion, and dish out whatever punishment he felt it merited. She was finally beginning to understand the strange dynamic that existed between them, with Honey deliberately provoking her master into disciplining her, and both of them gaining a thrill from her brattish behaviour.

‘Oh, he’s gone to play golf, with Damon, my darling Ray and that hottie, Sebastian. I did worry that they might want to take me along, but this is strictly a boys-only outing. They’re probably discussing business, or measuring their dicks in the forest, or something. It’s just as well. There’s nothing I find more boring than golf.’

As if Honey had invoked the men’s presence simply by mentioning their names, Sebastian Voller came into view, bounding down the steps that led to the beach, followed by Rafael dos Santos.

‘Apologise to her,’ Sebastian was saying. ‘Tell the little slut why her master is nothing but a big, fat
Verlierer
. A loser.’

‘Someone seems pleased with themselves,’ Jason muttered, folding his newspaper shut and sitting up on the lounger.

‘Let’s just say we had a little wager on who would go round the course in the fewest strokes …’ Sebastian took a wad of Damon dollars from his breast pocket, and fanned his face with them. ‘I’m so hot, I need a drink to cool down. Come on, why don’t you let me buy you one?’ he said to Jason. ‘Or, rather, let Mr I Can’t Play Golf here buy them.’

Jessica could see Honey already mentally planning the taunts she would throw at her master about his lack of ability on the golf course, in return for a serious bottom-warming. She marvelled at the way the woman could turn any situation into a potential opportunity to be spanked.

‘No thanks,’ she heard Jason say. ‘It’s kind of you to offer, but it’s a little early for me to be drinking, to be honest.’

‘But I insist,’ Sebastian replied. ‘Let me buy you something without alcohol. I need to celebrate my good fortune.’

Obviously sensing that the German would keep on at him till he accepted, Jason said, ‘OK then, mate. Lead the way.’

He rose from the lounger, and beckoned Jessica to follow him. As they headed in the direction of the bar, Jessica could already hear Honey saying, ‘You mean to tell me you couldn’t even beat him at a simple game of golf?’

‘That slut’s mouth will get her into trouble,’ Voller commented, though he too clearly knew that was the whole point of Honey’s mockery.

The barman greeted them with a smile as Sebastian and Jason settled themselves on high-backed stools. The man’s grin seemed especially wide as he turned it on Jessica, and she found herself blushing. Had he been one of the mystery men who’d watched her yesterday? Might he have been the one who’d flogged her? She shook her head, sure she was reading too much into his friendly demeanour.

‘What can I get you?’ he asked.

‘I’ll have a beer,’ Sebastian began, ‘and my friend will have a –?’

‘Grapefruit juice, thanks,’ Jason supplied.

‘A grapefruit juice. And give the slut a glass of sparkling water.’

Jessica couldn’t quite decide how she felt about being included in Sebastian’s largesse. She couldn’t help remembering how Max had reacted when the man had beaten him to that business deal; nothing really got Max down for long, but he’d been quite bitter about the whole affair, claiming some kickback must have been involved. And Jason didn’t seem to trust the man for some reason. But, she reasoned, this was just a drink. What harm could it do?

Except one drink turned into two, and then a third, and the conversation between Sebastian and Jason, which was initially light-hearted and friendly and mostly concerning football and rock music, took a sudden turn.

‘I’m in the mood for another wager,’ Sebastian declared. ‘You see, Jason, I have no hard feelings about the fact you beat me in the bidding for Jessica here, but I would really relish the opportunity to show you the kind of discipline I would have given her had I been her master.’

‘And what kind of discipline is that?’ Jason asked, keeping his tone light, though Jessica could sense something in Sebastian’s words had rattled him.

‘Real discipline. The kind that is meant, my friend, not the kind that is merely played at. And I suggest a little game of chance to see whether or not I will be permitted to give her that discipline.’

As he spoke, Max wandered into the bar, deep in conversation with Wesley Cole. Simone, Cole’s slave, walked a couple of paces behind them. She wore a collar around her neck, and from the wide metal ring set into the front of the collar hung a thin, crook-handled cane. Whether this had just been used on her, or was just about to be, Jessica couldn’t tell, though the girl’s careful posture suggested she might be recovering from a recently striped bottom.

‘Ah, just the man!’ Sebastian announced, beckoning the newcomers over. ‘Max, my friend, I am just about to engage Jason here in a wager. I am proposing that we use a coin to decide who gets to punish her. We toss it, and whoever calls heads or tails correctly, best out of three, will have the chance of inflicting discipline on that beautiful bottom of hers. What do you say, Jason?’

Jason glanced over at Jessica. She kept her expression neutral, not wanting to let him know about the shiver of alarm that had passed through her at Sebastian’s talk of “real discipline”. In one of their discussions on the subject, Jason had told her no master should attempt to inflict punishment on a submissive if either one of them had been drinking heavily, or was under the influence of drugs. But though the German had been drinking, she could tell he was nowhere near the recklessly drunk stage; if anything, she suspected the alcohol had only sharpened his desire to beat her.

‘OK, you’re on.’

‘Good man.’ Sebastian fished in his pocket, and dug out a coin. ‘Heads or tails?’ he asked Jason.

‘Heads,’ Jason replied at once.

‘And so you leave the tail for me. How appropriate.’

He flipped the coin, and let it land on the bar counter, covering it with his hand. Everyone crowded round to see how it had fallen. Jessica felt her stomach lurch with disappointment at the sight of the reverse side of the coin, with its pattern of a galleon in full sail. But that’s only the first one, she told herself. Still two chances for it to land Jason’s way.

Again Sebastian tossed the coin; this time, the Queen’s head stared back at them when he pulled his hand away.

‘So, it all comes down to the final throw,’ he commented. ‘I am sure we are all of us hoping that our luck is in.’

Jessica couldn’t help wondering if he included her in that remark. Max too, given the animosity between her husband and Voller. The tension in the little group gathered at the bar had risen a notch or two; even Simone, who had no stake at all in the proceedings, gave Jessica’s arm a sympathetic squeeze. Everyone knew how much was riding on this third toss of the coin.

Sebastian strung the moment out as long as he could. Had he taken a sneaky look at the outcome before announcing the result to everyone? If so, he gave nothing away; Jessica knew she would never want to play poker against him.

‘And the coin comes down –’ He moved his hand away with a flourish, giving everyone a moment to look and take in what Jessica was sure he already knew. ‘Tails. I am sorry, Jason. What can I say?’ His smile, like his words, carried not a hint of sincerity.

‘So now what?’ Jason asked.

‘We take Jessica to the dungeon.’ Sebastian motioned to the barman. ‘You keep a few bits and pieces behind the bar, don’t you?’

‘Yes, sir,’ the man replied.

‘Well, would you be so kind as to lend me a collar and leash? My friend here has been so incredibly lax in his enforcement of discipline as to neglect to keep the slut on one.’

‘Of course, sir.’ The barman disappeared from sight below the lip of the counter for a moment, returning with a black studded collar to which a dog leash had already been clipped. Sebastian fitted it in place around Jessica’s neck, fastening the buckle a notch tighter than anything she had experienced with Jason. The thick leather pressing against her throat made her acutely aware of every breath she took, and reminded her that he could, if he wished, restrict her air intake even further.

‘Come with me, slut,’ he ordered, giving the leash a sharp tug. ‘And whoever else cares to witness her discipline …’

He cast a look around the little group. Wesley Cole shook his head. ‘I’d love to, but I’ve got an arse of my own to stripe before the morning’s out.’

His words, and the urgency with which they were delivered, reminded Jessica that she and Max weren’t the only people who would be leaving the resort today. Others were taking in the opportunity to fit in one last punishment session, one last enactment of a cherished fantasy, before returning to the pace and pressure of their everyday life.

That left Jason and Max, neither of whom appeared to want to leave her alone with Voller. The small party set off for the dungeon at a swift pace, Sebastian taking long strides that forced Jessica to scurry to keep up with him, or risk being choked by the tightly buckled collar.

‘You have the dungeon key already?’ Jason asked as Sebastian opened the door to the small, low-ceilinged room, no doubt remembering how he’d had to book it out from the reception desk.

‘Let’s just say I had a feeling this would be my day.’ Sebastian smiled, ushering Jason and Max inside.

He dragged Jessica into the centre of the room, bypassing the whipping stool and the pillory. If he didn’t intend to fasten her to either one of those, then what? She stood still, trying to show no emotion, as he went to a chest that contained various pieces of equipment, and pulled out a length of thick, industrial-looking chain. A wide, sturdy eyebolt had been screwed into the ceiling; Sebastian pulled over a small step stool that had been provided for the express purpose of allowing the dominant to feed chain, or rope, through that eyebolt, leaving the ends dangling down. Once he’d done that, he buckled a thick cuff round each of Jessica’s wrists, and fastened those cuffs to the ends of the chain. She was left with her arms stretched tautly above her head, and her feet just about planted on the floor. It was a position she felt she could hold for a short amount of time before the strain on her shoulders became too painful, and she hoped he didn’t plan to leave her there for an extended session.

Max and Jason were standing to her left, just in her line of sight. She didn’t turn her head to look at either one of them, afraid to meet their gaze in case she broke down and begged to be freed. She couldn’t embarrass either her husband or her master like that, even though every fibre in her body screamed that she really didn’t want to be at Voller’s mercy.

‘You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to have you like this,’ Sebastian told her, making a slow, appraising circuit of her naked body. ‘Bound and helpless, about to learn what it truly means to submit. And you will submit, as you never have before.’

For the first time since they’d entered the dungeon, Jason spoke up. ‘Before you go any further, you need to know that she has a safeword. It’s “violets”.’

‘Safewords are for amateurs,’ Voller scoffed. ‘I will know when the slut has taken enough, I assure you, and it will not be when she thinks that’s the case.’

Jason stepped close to Sebastian, and Jessica could see his hands were bunched into tight fists. ‘She has a safeword,’ he repeated, his voice a low hiss, ‘and if she uses it and you don’t stop what you’re doing, trust me, I will knock your teeth right down your throat.’

Max put a hand on Jason’s shoulder, pulling him away from the other man. ‘It’s OK.’

‘No, it’s not, Max. Sebastian thinks he knows what’s best for Jessica, but he doesn’t. She’s not Simone, or one of the house girls who’s used to being disciplined all the time. She’s not a pain slut, and I don’t want him treating her like she is.’

Sebastian said nothing, merely turned and studied the rack of implements on the wall. To Jessica’s anguished eyes, he seemed to take for ever to make his choice. At last, he selected a riding crop, and she shuddered inside. Could he have known that was her least favourite out of everything Jason had used on her, with its vicious bite and the fiery lines of pain it left in its wake?

‘One last thing before we begin …’ Holding the crop between his teeth, Sebastian undid his shirt buttons, and took it off. Despite herself, Jessica felt a traitorous trickle of juice escape from her pussy at the sight of the German stripped to the waist. His muscles were nearly as spectacular as Jason’s, his skin tanned an even golden shade, and his pouting good looks reminded her irresistibly of the coat check boy at Envied. How long ago it seemed now that she had pinned that guy up against the wall of his own cloakroom and fucked him to a standstill. Had it really been little more than a week? So much had happened since that night, and it had brought her to a place where a man with the same model looks but the temperament of a true sadist was about to thrash her with a riding crop.