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“I will be. You know I will,” Gemma said, the strength in her voice returning.
Jason lifted the laptop lid again. Work beckoned, his constant, undesired distraction.
“Go and clean yourself up. Make me proud. We leave at eight-thirty for dinner.”
***
Humiliated, degraded, and used, Gemma hobbled out, clutching her pants.
The moment before she’d kicked the wall, her stomach muscles had been constricted as if she had cramps. The massage had sounded indulgent and pleasant, the shaving tolerable, the waxing, she would grin and bear, if he wanted it. Nose facing the wall, Gemma had fumed. There wasn’t any chance of him carrying out the threat of the crew hunting for humiliating objects with which to degrade her. Unfortunately, having Jason witness an enema was a genuine threat. Gemma had wanted to have sex and nothing else. Her careless attempt at asking had misfired. With him on his throne and screwing with her mind, she had been at his mercy. He had milked her predicament royally.
She staggered to her personal bathroom and turned the taps on for a bath. “Señora?” said Maria quietly.
Gemma jumped. “I didn’t hear you approach.”
“Sorry, señora. Please, let me take care of you. I’m here to serve you.”
Maria touched her arm. She flinched and turned to see Maria’s face. A genuine, caring face.
“I know, señora, what these men do. I know we want to please them, but sometimes it is hard. To be everything they want us to be. He will show his love, but you must be patient for him.”
The older woman took her in her arms and held her gently until the tears dried up. Maria undressed her, helped her into the bath, and poured oils into the water. Satisfied Gemma was relaxed and comfortable, the maid waited. Gemma could guess at Jason’s instructions to Maria: befriend her mistress, keep her calm and ready. Ready for him.
Gemma underwent a remarkable transformation. With Maria’s help, she put on one of her sleek cocktail dresses, applied make-up, and styled her hair into a bun. By eight-thirty, she decided she looked stunning, quite recovered from her earlier visual breakdown. The soothing bath had steadied her nerves and the aromatic oils cleared her nostrils. Jason would be proud of her tonight. She intended to make every effort to impress him, to be the prize every man would want on his arm. Starved of sex, she might as well look sexy. She risked irking Jason, but if he wanted the beautiful wife, he would have to tolerate other men staring at her.
Despite her comments in the car about Maria, Jason had been completely right. The woman was keen to please her and certainly had been attentive. Well-trained in servitude, Maria never offered Gemma anything she didn’t ask for. Her brush, her towel, whatever she wanted to hand, appeared within reach.
***
Jason changed into a casual suit of beige silk and went in search of his wife. She remained, as he had instructed, seated in the stateroom, admiring the brightening lights of the marina. The lanterns dangling from the masts of the sailboats, the illuminations for the decks of the other yachts. The moment he entered the room, she slipped down onto her knees. Her posture, this time, perfect. He stood over her and brushed a hand against her head.
“Stand up. Let me look at you.”
She did, with considerable grace.
“Beautiful. You are gorgeous, babe. You’re going to make me proud tonight. Time to leave. Do you have a wrap? The air will be cold later, and we’re eating al fresco.”
They dined at a restaurant high in the hills, overlooking the coast. Gemma perched on her seat and gazed about her with her newfound tranquillity. They ate their courses unrushed and, by midnight, they still had dessert to go. A soprano opera singer appeared and impressed them with her exquisite arias. One o’clock came, another hour passed.
After an awkward journey in the car on the way to the restaurant and a subdued entrée course, Gemma engaged Jason in conversation, asking about yacht building, and this led to a safe place for them to converse.
Jason had succumbed to his yacht’s charms years ago when he used to charter it fresh out of the builder’s dockyard. The layout of the vessel, the number of crew required to sail her, and the speed it could travel across the seas were all things he had become keenly acquainted with over the years.
Eventually, when his income skyrocketed to multimillionaire levels, he had purchased the luxury cruiser and chartered it back out to make money. His use of the yacht had declined when his hedonistic
days mellowed and he had re-doubled his efforts on the work front.
Plenty of other diners lingered to chat and laugh together, but Jason signalled for the bill. Returning to the yacht, he allowed her to snuggle up against him in bed and listen to his beating heart. She appeared content and undemanding of his attentions.
Chapter 5. Aftercare
Day Two
As Gemma and Jason leant against the railings at the stern of the yacht, crowds gathered on the dock to watch their imminent departure from the marina.
Rising at a respectable time, Jason had done his obligatory workout in the gym. The crew had moved about him as he strolled about his yacht cooling down, wiping the droplets of perspiration from his face with a sweat towel. He’d said nothing in greeting. Most of the crew were new to him although he’d known Esteban and McKenzie since his first cruise on Sublime. They’d kept their mouths shut over many voyages, having signed the required non-disclosure agreement, an obligation required of all of the crew.
Esteban, the medic, had been briefed on Jason’s lifestyle preferences on the first voyage many years previously. He had raised his eyebrows at the scant description and shrugged his shoulders with indifference. The girls Jason had brought with him on those earlier cruises had been friendly, pretty, and, for the most part, invisible. What Esteban couldn’t see, he couldn’t judge.
