Judged by Him (30 page)

Day Fourteen

Gemma reached a breaking point with regard to her daily massages. The state of inner turmoil could only have been created by one man—Jason Lucas. No other person could have brought her to the watershed moment in her sexual life. She had been convinced it would be impossible and unachievable on her part.

The dilemma she faced was due to her sensual body, presenting a confused mass of mixed messages, which her brain seemed unable or unwilling to interpret. Gemma contemplated whether she should or needed to speak to Jason.

Her cynical mind told her,
don’t.
He would manipulate her, mind fuck her into saying or doing things he wanted, and she would end up agreeing to them because he had taught her to please. Her positive, trusting side remained optimistic. He had never made her do anything she didn’t want to do or found repulsive. Even the humiliating enema play had been erotic because of him. Knowing she pleased him was rewarding in itself.

That morning, he had come to witness the Brazilian waxing prior to her massage. They had returned to the routines established before John and Andrea’s visit, and he had come into the spa room without an invitation or voicing a comment, a simple observer. Without interfering with her, nor uttering a word, he had sat serenely in his chosen armchair, legs crossed and stretched out before him, watching. By the time she had returned from the bathroom, post-waxing, he had gone. Gemma had shrugged her shoulders at Maria, and the little woman had pointed at the massage table, ready to move on.

Maria had done nothing during the waxing and massage she hadn’t done on previous mornings, and yet, Gemma struggled to contain the emergence of erotic responses. It had dawned on her that Jason’s hands-off approach had been the catalyst. Those cornflower eyes of his had been remorseless. Ever since they had first met, those eyes had pierced her. Even with her own shut, they would be in her mind, lingering in the same way a light bulb’s glow did on the retina. It was as if he could fuck her with those eyes alone. With her lying on the massage table, the strips of wax being whipped off her legs, he had done exactly that, and by the time the waxing had finished, he had left her intensely needy and unfulfilled.

Maria’s firm fingers continued a torture of tactile stimulation. Every time she drifted towards an erogenous area, Gemma squirmed and envisioned sexual images plastered across her consciousness. Enrique’s erotic drawings with their stylised interpretations of her sex life. She dismissed them briskly. Then came Jason, naked and towering over her, ready to use her, or her, suspended from the ceiling, waiting to be turned into his glorified sex toy.

She should have found the experience heavenly and relaxing. Instead, she drifted in a hellish state of arousal and denial. In the back of mind, a voice begged Maria to bury her fingers in Gemma, to stroke or kiss her. Maria wouldn’t, even if Gemma pleaded with her. The problem revealed and planted itself in her mind. She wanted Maria to touch her sexually and intimately.

Except Jason would never permit that. Then Gemma clarified the mental pronouncement.

Jason would never permit Maria to touch me without him being present.

Without him being a spectator.

Without him telling her to do it.

Was she being unfaithful as a wife? The question unnerved her greatly. The two aspects of their relationship, the submissive and loyal wife, were about to come head to head and smash into each other.

Gemma reached out and grasped Maria’s wrist, halting her in mid-movement. “Thank you. That’s sufficient for today.”

She hurriedly dressed and virtually ran away. As she turned to offer gratitude for her services, Gemma couldn’t help but notice the Mexican showed no alarm at her behaviour, in fact, she had a quirky expression on her face.

***

“Señor Lucas.” Maria found Jason alone in his office. “She is in turmoil, Señor. Her body is like electricity under my hands. I can feel the energy. I have felt it many times before in women. You know I have. She stopped me and left before I had finished. The poor woman needs to be put out of her misery.”

“If she wants to be put out of her misery, Maria, she will come to me. I want her completely willing and at ease. I want her to find pleasure and release, not guilt or languish with her insecurities. If she is ready and able, she will beg me. Beg to be used by you and you won’t need to worry. You’ve been patient.”

Maria had been very patient. She didn’t mind. Anticipation made the outcome more satisfying. She craved the opportunities that awaited her and would do as she was told. She always did.

***

Gemma kept up a good pace on the treadmill, accompanied by the high volume on her iPod ear buds. The workout calmed her nerves and focused her thoughts. She had succeeded up to a point and now felt ready to bring her inner befuddled state to a necessary conclusion.

Catching sight of her husband, she switched off the treadmill and wiped her face with her sweat towel. A trickle of perspiration slipped between her breasts. Her Lycra shorts hugged her thighs, and a sheen of warmth covered her sticky face.

“Hi,” she said, pulling out her ear pieces. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Dressed in his cut-off jeans and a black vest, she found him to be very casual and youthful in appearance. Sexy, too. Every so often, he threw off the mantel of executive and became the playboy illusion she fantasised about.

“Didn’t think this was your favourite room.” He leant on the control panel of the treadmill and traced his finger over the selection buttons.

“All this lounging around and rich food. I’m getting flabby.” She patted her tummy.

“I’m not working you out enough?” He chuckled.

“Certain muscles are very well exercised. My lungs and heart need a steady, fast beat to improve my aerobic capacity. Your workouts are somewhat irregular in pace,” she explained.

“I see. I think you’re hiding from me.” He took her hand. She stepped off the rubber platform, and he drew her to him, pressing his chest against her, his hips, too. “Well?”

She kept her hands to her sides, refusing to participate in the cuddle. “Perhaps.”

She didn’t want this. She wanted to talk, not have sex. “Jason. Can we talk? I mean if I said I wanted to take a break, could we?” She slipped out of his hands, stepping backwards.

“A red kind of break?” His amused expression remained unchanged.

“Yes, I suppose. I want to chat to you, candidly.”

“Sure, darling. Here?”

“No. Let me shower first. I’m sticky and hot. What I want to talk to you about, I don’t think I should be sticky and hot. Under the canopy, with the sea breeze.”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you there.” He glanced a kiss at her cheek and left the gym.

***

They lay side by side on the lounger, staring up at the underside of the white canopy. Her hair lay wet and damp under her head. She had dressed in a long dress—a protective cladding about her body. A sense of foreboding filled her, not fear or dread, more uneasiness.

“Tell me, Jason, tell me what you mean by sharing me. Or not, as the case may be.”

“Time for definitions, is it?”

“Please, don’t mock me. I don’t want to put myself in the predicament of abusing your undeclared rules through ignorance or misinterpretation. You’re a lawyer and very precise with your words. I need to know how precise,” she bit out.

“Sharing what I own, what I possess, is my decision. Not yours. I won’t let you have sex with other Doms, or any man for that matter. It is adultery. Women are, for me, a different matter. You’re not a lesbian. You won’t develop a relationship with a woman that involves loving, romantic intercourse of your own volition. However, it does not stop you from being sexually aroused by another submissive.”

“So, my taking erotic pleasure of a woman is all right?”

Jason pursed his lips and then nodded. “As long as I’m present and it is my pleasure that you do so.”

“You’re saying, you don’t have a problem with me being touched or used by another woman as long as you’re present, give permission, and I consent.”

“More specific than that. I’m in control. I direct and instruct. I have never said I have an issue with you being with others
submissives
. Consenting submissives. You have always said you are uncomfortable with having sex with women. I respect that limit and will not force or ask you to if you do not give me your consent.”

“Topping. I’m forbidden to top you. If there is another sub present, a participating, consenting sub, would one of us be topping, telling the other what to do?”

“I am the Dominant, the Top. You and any other submissive are my bottoms. If I’m controlling you both, then neither of you would be topping me or each other. You can work it out for yourself.”

Gemma took a deep breath. “I think I’m becoming open to the idea of being with a woman. I’m not sure how far I want to go with the notion of bisexuality. Touched, maybe. Penetrated, I honestly don’t know. I don’t want to be anything other than a submissive, a bottom.
Your
submissive. Is this a shock to you? Or am I right in thinking your little game of sensual treatments and massages were designed to
manipulate
me into becoming bi-curious.” She folded her arms across her chest, adopting a firm, slightly peeved stance.

Jason turned on his side and propped up his head on his elbow. “Manipulate you? A harsh word perhaps. Let’s be honest. I’ve created a scenario to enable you to explore your own desires more. I’ve always thought you had the potential to be versatile. However, your training in that respect was extremely limited. I asked Maria to massage you, and I knew I had been leaving you needy. What was your choice, your own decision, was to remain aroused or lose the sentiment. To let yourself have a simple therapeutic massage and nothing sensual. I gave strict instructions Maria was not to touch you in a way that would stimulate you directly, no clit tickling. Everything that happened in that room, your responses and attitude, was down to you and nobody else.”

“So, if I’d gone stiff as a board and felt nothing, would you be disappointed in me? Consider me a bisexual failure!” Her fingers coiled about her shoulders, hugging herself tighter.

“No! Absolutely not. I have said I wouldn’t make you be something you are not. You wouldn’t have disappointed me or failed in any way. What both of us would know is that you would never accept the presence of another female submissive in our play. Babe, please, you could never disappoint me.”

“Another one of your little tests, then?” She wanted to turn her back on him, hide away in annoyance. She fought hard to stay still.

Jason sighed. “Don’t be angry. It is counter-productive. The treatments served a purpose. They kept you relaxed and very refined in appearance. If you saw them as a test, then so be it. If you hadn’t come to me today with these questions, remained uninterested, you wouldn’t be judging this as a test.”

“Maria has been keeping you informed. Hasn’t she?” snapped Gemma.

“Yes. Because I didn’t want to push you too hard. You may recall, this morning, I didn’t lay a finger on you or say a word. I merely watched. Did you want her to touch you, rather than have me? Should I be offended?”

Gemma sprang up, swivelling to face him, hands on her hips. “Yes, you should! Because it’s about being unfaithful. You finally see this as a husband should. Because, to me, Jason, this is all about our status as husband and wife. I feel like I would be unfaithful to you. You see all this sexual play as only part of our D/s lifestyle. I’m your wife above all else. I’ve been tearing myself up because of these feelings of disloyalty. As a sub, I’m curious and willing. As your wife, I don’t know what to do!” She covered her head with her hands. “Argh!”

“Monogamy. Are we monogamous in our marriage? We are. I’m not proposing I have penetrative sex with another woman. You can choose not to, as well. What we can do is introduce another female submissive into our play. Does that satisfy your concerns about faithfulness and devotion to each other?”

“I suppose so.” She relaxed her shoulders slightly. She wasn’t truly put off by the unfaithful argument.

“To me, adultery is not the issue. Neither of us will be having intercourse or making love in a romantic fashion with another of the opposite sex.”

“You’ve an answer to everything, Jason. You make me feel inadequate and foolish.”

Tears hovered in her eyes, waiting to be shed. She struggled to deal with her indecisive demons. Jason sat up straight and faced her.

“I have an answer because I have thought of the questions. What do I do for a living? I acquire businesses and companies. I ask many questions to determine whether they are suitable, profitable, and match my portfolio and the ethos of what my company represents. I like to be prepared.”

“So, I’m an empty-headed numpty who should have thought this all through on my own. Well, thanks for the confidence-boosting chat!”

He was fast reaching the end of his tether, frustration evident in the narrowing of his lips and the lines forming on his forehead. She had to make a decision soon.

“Will you please stop playing the low self-esteem card? You said at the beginning of this conversation you don’t want to screw up. I call that being conscientious, thoughtful, and respectful of me. Your natural attention to detail and, above all else, your pretty, over-analytical mind going into overdrive. Now, stop bloody thinking, and tell me. Do you or do you not want me to ask Maria to touch your sex, suck your little clit, or whatever else will drive you into oblivion? The choice is yours.”

Gemma made her decision and told him.

They spent the rest of afternoon on the sundeck. The heat had become nearly intolerable. With no breeze coming off the waves, neither wanted to sit in the sun. Jason lay on the lounger, under the canopy, reading a hefty novel. Gemma relaxed at the other end of the sundeck. She sat under two parasols, dressed in her bikini, and listening to music.
Sublime
made its way past the tip of Italy’s boot, on course to reach its heel by midnight. The view from the port side was of an arid country baking in the early summer heat.