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“Surely Jason doesn’t let Enrique model his artwork on him!” Gemma couldn’t imagine her husband condoning the use of his image.
“Oh, gracious, no. Enrique wouldn’t use real faces or bodies in his work. It is stylised, and all he needs are themes to work on. Señor Lucas likes his work and is happy for him to do this,” Maria explained.
“Would he show me some? I paint, myself, and sketch, too. Jason thinks I should have a career as an artist.”
In their numerous conversations about her paintings, she’d told him she might consider giving up her current career if children entered their lives. She’d constructed a tantalising image of her painting in a workshop with children playing nearby.
“You should, if you wish to. You can do anything you like. You’re lucky,” noted Maria.
“True. These girls, did he show any interest in their lives?”
Maria chortled. “No, señora. I told you, the girls were his pleasure vessels, like this yacht. They waited for him in the stateroom or on the sundeck. Always waiting for him to come and ....”
“I understand. He fucked them and used them. Like he does me.”
As if to read her mind, Maria stopped her massaging fingers and stroked the hair from Gemma face. “Oh, no, Señora Lucas. No, no. Not like you. Believe me. He is so different with you. In one day, I see the difference. ”
“How is he different? Please, Maria, I don’t have a point of comparison. He doesn’t speak of his past, and I have never seen him have sex with another woman. He takes his marriage vows seriously. We both do. What was he like with them?” Gemma implored. “Did he watch them have enemas with you?”
“Yes. But he would never have let them have an orgasm. He did other things with them. He loved to humiliate. You felt ashamed after this morning. You are privileged; he lets you enjoy yourself. Señora, he is between his worlds. The Dominant who wants to control you and use your body and the husband who must love you very much.”
“How can you know that? All I felt this morning was the indignity. The orgasm forced, then he kept me waiting to relieve myself,” said Gemma in a huff, raising her head.
“Not that long, señora.” Maria laughed. “I have seen him force them to stay at his feet, begging, crying for relief, and threatening punishments if they failed. You swore at him! Mother Mary, another girl would have been thrashed for such disrespect.”
“I suppose. I do get angry with him sometimes. I shouldn’t show it.”
“And still he lets you come. With his hands, not a toy—”
“His hands.” Gemma smiled, resting her head back down. “Yes, I like his hands.” She giggled.
Maria continued her massage. “See. You are different. He will come back here again, though. I think he needs to do this kind of play with you. Something to degrade you, yes?”
Gemma sighed. Maria’s perceptions struck a chord.
“Each morning, he reminds me I am his submissive. However he treated me the night before, as wife or his sex slave, I will be made to entertain his dominate nature. He has given me the freedom to orgasm at will. He hinted to me, though, he would seek pleasure from me in other ways. I’m finding out, aren’t I?” She buried her face in her arms.
“I shouldn’t tell you this, señora.” Maria bent low and whispered in her ear, “Yesterday, while you bathed, he came and found me. He asked to know if you were all right. He told me if I ever thought you were too distressed or upset, I should find him and bring him to you. My sweet señora, he never, never asked me to do that before. If the other girls, the previous ones, struggled, he let them have a break or time to themselves. But he offered no sympathy or true concern. If they couldn’t cope, he would send them back and choose another. On his first cruise, when there were several men, he did that. Sent one girl packing because she kept asking for mercy.”
Gemma reflected on Maria’s words and took comfort. She would hold them in her mind as she returned each morning for her massage, manicures, and other treatments her husband specified, such as waxing or plucking her eyebrows. Depending on their schedule and his need to work, Jason might be there, too. His eyes would fixate on Maria’s talented fingers and kneading palms as she worked over Gemma’s fine body. The oils would glimmer and shine, and Jason wouldn’t permit Gemma to be covered, ensuring he would have full view of her nudity.
***
Maria concentrated on massaging the beautifully body under her fingertips. Her señora had gone silent, no doubt pondering their conversation. Maria suspected she had gone too far, but her señora had been persuasive and Maria had sympathy for the woman’s circumstances, especially her ignorance.
An experienced masseur, of both the therapeutic and sensual kind, Maria had noticed the faint scars on the other woman’s buttocks but knew not to comment. A thin line like a white scratch, and small, puckered spots. The latter appeared to be scars from small puncture wounds. Not a needle—too big to be a needle. Something else. The skin had healed smoothly about them, and the marks were only truly visible at close quarters.
Señora Gemma had been the victim of a serious crime and suffered traumatic flashbacks. A syndrome of some kind. The information had been provided in a lengthy e-mail from the señor before she and Enrique joined the crew. Maria’s English wasn’t sophisticated enough to understand the medical aspects. All they had been told was strictly no blood or handcuffs. If she became unresponsive to words, extremely pale, or panic stricken, the señor was to be informed immediately.
Maria didn’t regret her exposé of Señor Lucas’s past. It had settled Señora Lucas into the right frame of mind. Maria had learnt from previous cruises the señor liked watching her massage other women. She was expected to make Gemma aroused and drive her wild so she wriggled and squirmed under her hands. The señor had made the stipulation in a private e-mail.
When Maria reported to the señor what happened to Señora Lucas during the massage, he gave a small nod.
“Good. Keep at it. Don’t touch her. She has to come to me. This has to be her choice. You’re doing her a favour, Maria. Don’t feel guilty. In any case, you’re pleasing me and, if all goes well, Enrique will be able to witness you in action. You will be well rewarded by him.”
Maria remained at Señor Lucas’ feet. She felt a stab of sympathy for the señora. Nevertheless, Maria suspected the señora would succumb and discover things she hadn’t dared to before the cruise.
“May I speak freely, Señor Lucas?”
