Voyage To Submission (9 page)

Jack’s mouth lowered to take her right
nipple while she felt his fingers easing inside her body. Impossible to say
which happened first, or whether it even mattered, but between his sucking and
the fingers probing forward, when he touched her clit with the thumb on his
other hand, she convulsed again. She thought she cried out, or said something,
but it didn’t matter.

For the first time, she discovered the
power of an orgasm that didn’t involve her hand or batteries. She lost track of
time until her arms ached and she lowered them to rest on Jack’s shoulders.
Slowly, she became aware he had not yet released her nipple, although he no
longer sucked. As she savored the feel of his wet warmth, his fingers started
to wiggle around again. A corner of her brain told her she should stop him, but
the rest of it stifled the niggling voice and reason quickly.

There was no pushing him away, but her tied
hands, which had moved from behind her head to the back of his, only pulled
them closer. She noticed the crisp, short hairs at the back rubbing her
forearms, she jerked on the tie and it came free. Quickly, she rubbed her
fingers up and down the back of Jack’s head, ruffling the velvety pelt. An
almost instantaneous stiffening moved through Jack’s body. If his fingers
paused, she wasn’t aware of it. After that, the only thing she really noticed
was the second, and then the third, orgasm she enjoyed swamping all of her
senses.

At some point, Jack pulled away from her
hands and moved her body to lie on the sofa. He pulled her robe closed and then
eased a blanket over her legs, tucking her feet in. She thought he mentioned a
wake-up call before she fell asleep. Last night’s sleepless hours, plus the
previous week’s restlessness and nervousness caught up with her and she drifted
to sleep.

Jack knocked on the door to Andy’s suite
about ten minutes earlier than planned. Following Ethan’s suggestion, he wore a
tuxedo. As he waited, he recalled their earlier conversation.

“The parties at the Dungeon can exist on
many different levels. If things progress as I anticipate, once we’ve given
your friends a tour, we’ll be invited to attend a private session. You and Andy
are welcome to come with Margrit and I. Dress for this is usually black tie,
for male Doms, and will vary for females, both Dominatrix and subs. Any idea
what Andy is planning to wear?”

“None at all.”

“Margrit is planning on talking with her so
she’ll be dressed appropriately.”

Waiting for the door to be opened by
Henderson, he did wonder whether Andy had taken kindly to Margrit’s
suggestions. His curiosity had made him want to look into the sack he’d
delivered earlier. Now he wished he had given into it. Seconds later, the door
opened and Henderson bowed slightly to welcome him.

“Good evening, sir. I’m afraid we’re
running a little late. Would you like a drink while you wait?”

Jack shook his head as he walked past the
other man. “Do you know how long she’s going to be? I should probably let our
hosts know.”

“At last estimate, twenty minutes. If you
will tell me the name of your host, or the stateroom number, I’d be happy to
contact them.”

“All right,” he replied. “Ethan Williams
and they are staying in the Queen Victoria suite.”

A second later, Jack was surprised to see
Henderson smile. “I’m familiar with Mr. and Mrs. Williams. My fiancée is
working as their butler for this cruise. It doesn’t happen often, but we were
both reserved exclusively for this sailing.”

“You’re engaged to a guy?” Jack couldn’t
keep the surprise from his voice. He’d met a few guys in the past that he never
would have guessed they were gay, and if Henderson was…well then, he was
surprised.

“This is the new millennium and women are
in every field these days.” Richard shook his head. “We met on board several
years ago. Luckily, my seniority and the fact women in the profession are still
scarce but in demand, allowed her an assignment to this ship as well.”

For the first time since he’d initially
seen the other man, he relaxed and grinned. Offering his hand, he congratulated
him. “Good luck! Any wedding plans? I should imagine with you both stuck to a
suite it limits your time together.”

“Thank you, but we don’t have any definite
plans for a wedding yet. We knew this cruise would be restricted. Well, I’ll
make the call and then I’ll return.”

With a decidedly perkier step, Jack walked
to the staircase and up a few steps. “Do you need any help, Andy?” he called
out.

Andy’s hand jerked slightly. Looking into
the mirror, she was glad to see she hadn’t smeared her lipstick. Running behind
always made her more nervous and ham-handed. She’d slept through the wake-up
call and luckily the switchboard had alerted Rick. He’d brought a pot of hot
tea to help her wake up while he went upstairs to turn on the shower.

Setting down her lipstick, she walked from
the bathroom into the bedroom. Her dress lay on the bed and she gratefully
found a note had been tucked into the sack from Margrit. A quick read-through
explained the garments, including tips on wearing. A white satin, merry widow,
adorned by golden embroidery and with attached garters, was the star piece of
the ensemble. White silk stockings came three-quarters up her thighs. The
actual dress was white, tulle material, which draped, swathed and clipped about
her torso into a fashion dream. A rhinestone clip at her hip held the
tissue-thin cloth and allowed it to appear as if it then fell in draped layer
upon layer to her knees.

Picking up the dress, she saw Jack’s
reflection in the mirror on the far wall. She could feel a blush rapidly
staining her cheeks.

“You didn’t answer, so I came on up.”

“Hello, Jack. I was in the bathroom, adding
the last of the war paint.”

“Looks like you did a good job,” Jack
complimented her, smiling gently.

“Now, I just need my war pony and I’m all
set,” she joked back, without thinking.

“You can ride me anytime you like, Andy.”

Wow! Andy had to take a deep breath at the
erotic thoughts and emotions that flooded her body at his words. Trying to
think quickly, she jested. “You might not like my riding crop.”

Jack shook his head and started walking
towards her, their gazes still meeting through the reflection. “We can try out
different ones until you find the right crop to tame your stallion.”

Andy closed her eyes at his words and a
moment later she felt his hands sliding around her waist. She sighed when he
lowered his lips to her shoulder, bare because she’d pulled her hair back into
a waterfall of curls.

“You look beautiful, Andy.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, keeping her
eyes shut for one more second and then looked into the mirror. “You look pretty
dandy as well. This doesn’t look like a ‘for-hire’ tux.” She ran her hand down
the satiny lapel.

“It’s not, but was a good investment,
considering the use I’ll be getting out of it this trip.”

Andy sat on the bed and stepped into the
dress. Standing, she pulled it up and then looked at Jack, silently asking him
to fasten it. She was considering a suggestion that they stay here.

“All done. Shoes?” he asked.

“There on the bench.” She gestured to the
cushioned seat at the foot of the bed. Leaning over, she took her keycard from
the small purse she’d been using, to transfer it to the tiny, perfect little
white bag Margrit had included with the dress.

“Want me to carry that for you? Lipstick?”

“Thanks,” she said as she handed him the
card. “I hadn’t thought about lipstick.”

“I might grab you in the hall and kiss all
that pretty color from your lips.”

Andy almost quipped back something about
not letting him. Instead, she turned and skipped into the bathroom and grabbed
the gold tube. At least she’d splurged on a fancy tube so it wouldn’t be a
scratched plastic one she pulled from the fancy purse, which also held a
micro-recorder for her thoughts on story ideas. She accepted her shoes before
she led the way downstairs.

Henderson stood behind the bar as they came
down. “May I say that you clean up quite nicely, Ms. Bond?”

“Thank you, Henderson.” She crossed to the
small table and sat to slip on her heels.

Jack spoke from behind her where he had
perched on one of the barstools. “We’ll get to meet Henderson’s fiancée
tonight, sweetheart.”

“I knew it!” Andy hopped up, pointing her
finger straight at Rick.

“Amalie is working in your friends’ suite
on this sailing,” Rick added with a smile.

“How exciting! Will it be all right if I
say something? Introduce myself?”

“If you’re alone with her, then it would be
okay.”

“I promise I won’t do anything to embarrass
her.” Andy crossed her heart with one finger. “Or I’ll try, at least. As you’ve
already seen, I’m a bit of a hick when it comes to this level of posh.”

“Well, we better get going, Andy. We’re
already almost late beyond what is socially acceptable.” Jack stood and started
for the front door.

“I have no class, I’m afraid.” Andy
shrugged. She picked up the small handbag and popped in the lipstick, quickly
looking inside for the few things she’d put into it earlier. Satisfied, she
nodded before adding with a grin, “You can blame it all on me.”

“Have a good time,” Henderson wished them
as he closed the door behind them. He moved around the room, tidying up. He had
no doubt Andrea Bond would be something of a surprise to his sedate Amalie. A
grin started as he wondered what it might have been like if they’d been
switched. He loved his perfectly impeccable Amalie, but it would be interesting
to see if she got ruffled tonight when Andy spoke to her directly. Chuckling
quietly, he finished up and made his way to the crew quarters to enjoy his dinner.

* * * * *

Amalie St. Jacques had been busy all day
getting ready for this dinner party. She was used to her passengers’
entertaining, and she’d quite successfully managed three parties in one day on
one particular sailing. The last one had been for eight people and had five
full courses. But hearing Rick’s voice telling her
his
“Ms. Bond” had
run a little late served to stress her out. She’d called the kitchen, moving
everything back, and then informed the Williams.

Ethan and Margrit Williams had come as something
of a surprise, as well. They were obviously used to six-star service, yet they
were two of the nicest people she’d ever had on a cruise. Shortly after
introductions, Ethan had told her they were part of the BDSM cruising group.
She had yet to see anything out of the ordinary going on. Even if she did,
Amalie had spent hours working on not showing shock, surprise or any other
emotion.

Walking into the small kitchenette, she saw
Margrit stood at the sink, washing a few of the dishes they’d used earlier.
Amalie had already tried to convince her to leave them, but the petite woman
had laughed and continued washing. Giving up, she picked up a towel and started
drying.

The doorbell rang.

“Oh, dear,” Amalie murmured softly.

Margrit reached out with one wet hand to
stop her. “Don’t fret, dear.” She turned her head and shouted towards the
living room. “Ethan darling, could you get the door? We’re tied up in the
kitchen.”

“Mrs. Williams, as your butler, it is my
responsibility to do these types of things.” Amalie quickly pointed out to her
boss.

“I understand, Jackie. But we’re happy, so
there is nothing to worry over.” Margrit turned her attention to the last
glass.

Amalie winced at Margrit’s name for her.
Upon meeting the Williams and requesting they call her Jacques or St. Jacques,
Margrit had merely shrugged. Two seconds later, Margrit was calling her Jackie.
The nickname was said with such respect and care, Amalie just accepted it.

Amalie learned that even though this couple
was in a male Dom relationship, Margrit appeared to be in charge a lot of the
time. It was a subtle sort of thing, but she often saw Mr. Williams deferring
to his wife’s decision or choice. Of course, Amalie knew very little to nothing
about the lifestyle, but these people seemed pretty normal from what she’d seen
so far.

Margrit untied the shirt belonging to her
husband, which she’d used as an apron, as the sounds of Ethan greeting the
guests drifted into the kitchenette.

Amalie looked at the expensively perfect
little black dress. She was skillful at guessing the price of something, and
Margrit’s deceptively plain dress was undoubtedly designer and in the
four-digit range. Yet, the woman had given it little thought before she started
mucking about in the kitchen.

Margrit spoke, “I’ll take in the ice so you
can call the kitchen. Why don’t you have them deliver dinner as soon as it’s
ready? We’ll cut short the leisurely pre-dinner drinks and hors d’oeuvres part
so we’ll have plenty of time for the party. Thanks for your help, Jackie.”

Alone in the small room again, Amalie shook
her head. The personnel managers had discussed possible problems they might
encounter on this particular cruise, including ways to handle certain
situations. But those had all been about the BDSM scene and refusing undesirable
sexual advances. Nothing had covered excessive friendliness. And when she’d
told Rick of the Williams’ relaxed manner, he’d merely smiled and shrugged.
Then he’d recounted a few stories regarding his lady passenger.

For the first time ever since she’d met and
fallen head over heals in love with Richard Henderson the fourth, she’d been
jealous. Never before, despite the constant exposure to beautiful women, had
Amalie felt the tiniest bit of insecurity. She trusted Rick implicitly, but she
also had seen how some women could work a situation. Hearing Rick speaking so
fondly of Ms. Bond normally would not bother her. But this time it felt
different, and she had no real idea why. Making the call to the kitchen, she
took a moment to make sure she looked perfect in her white blouse, black slacks
and discretely pinstriped burgundy and hunter green vest.

One deep breath and she walked to the
living room. Upon entering the room, it took her a few seconds to see Ethan and
Margrit. She then saw the tall, very attractive man in a tuxedo standing by the
sliding glass door leading onto the deck. Ms. Bond must be exploring the deck,
Amalie realized. The deck was in sections unlike the long continuous one in the
Balmoral suite. A moment later, Amalie felt her stomach sink as she saw the
beautiful woman in white reenter the living room. Immediately, she noted the
other woman’s full curves, comparing her own slight and slender form less
favorably. In her mind, this wealthy, gorgeous woman had it all. Hopefully, the
man she was with tonight would occupy her hours completely even though they
were not sharing the suite.

A moment later she saw Ms. Bond look in her
direction. Her prior expectations about the other woman took a nosedive when
she saw how lovely Rick’s boss for this trip truly was. She stiffened her spine
even as her heart sank.

Andy saw Amalie and was bowled over by the
tall, slender woman’s delicateness of features and form. If ever she’d imagined
a perfect heroine, this was its human embodiment. The way she stood reminded
Andy of a graceful swan, moving and yet barely disturbing the world around her.
Forgetting her promise to Rick, Andy teetered across the room as quickly as she
could on her high heels.

“Hello, Amalie!” She reached the taller
woman and threw her arms around her. “You are absolutely gorgeous! I bet the
two of you together make the cutest couple ever. He kept you a secret until
before we came this evening.” Andy stepped back a little. Immediately, she
noticed that in her rush to hug Amalie, she smeared some of her makeup on her
shirt. “Oh, shoot! Look Margrit, I’ve gone and mussed Amalie’s perfect shirt. I
am so sorry.”