Ivorie's Surprise [Golden Dolphin] (Siren Publishing Classic) (20 page)

“Not that I know of, but of course the
tacacᾴ
is a shrimp soup. Is that a problem?”

“Unfortunately, I’m allergic to seafood, especially shrimp. I think I’ll retire to our bedroom. I have an epi pen with me, so I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll come with you, babe,” Chris said with a look of real concern on his face as he brushed her dark, shoulder-length hair back from her face. “Please excuse us. An allergic reaction could be serious if not treated immediately.”

“Please let me know if you need us to get a doctor for Jenni.” Wolf looked stricken. The group moved to the double doors of the dining room to return to their rooms and change clothes. They were to reconvene in the dungeon.

Ivorie hugged Jenni as she left the room. She knew Jenni would be disappointed to miss the action in Wolf’s dungeon. She had been bubbling about it all day. Ivorie frowned. She didn’t want to be selfish, but she had been counting on Jenni being in the dungeon during her first scene with Drew. While she was worried about Jenni’s allergic reaction to the seafood, she was also concerned that she might panic during the scene and embarrass not only Drew but herself as well. She knew it was irrational. She had as much trust in Drew here as she did on the ship, but there was something about Jenni’s comforting presence that reassured her. She had come to rely on the other woman’s good sense and straightforward manner.

Ivorie’s eyes popped wide open when Drew ushered her into the dungeon in the basement of the huge mansion. It was painted a deep burgundy above the exquisite mahogany wainscoting that decorated the walls and was lighted with ornate crystal chandeliers. The facilities onboard the
Dolphin
were much less elaborate and smaller than the ones she now viewed. Wolf’s dungeon contained all of the same types of equipment, only much more of it. She had been awestruck when Drew came out of the bathroom after changing into the typical Dom getup of tight black leather pants tucked into high black boots. He wore a black leather vest over his naked chest. She was barefoot and wore a short denim skirt and low-cut tank top without underwear. Her wardrobe did not currently run to any of the exotic BDSM wear she had seen the subs on the ship wearing.

Drew kissed down the side of her neck and then whispered into her ear, “I think we should just watch for a while and see what Wolf and Petra and Greg and Natasha do.” She nodded. That sounded good to her. She was not anxious to jump right in. While she knew that Drew had been into the BDSM scene since his college years, she knew he did not have Wolf’s or Greg’s experience. For some reason, she found that comforting.

Wolf silently gestured to Petra, who immediately dropped into the slave position on the floor in front of him. Ivorie could see the anxiety and excitement in her clear, blue eyes. Her long, white-blonde hair was braided down her back, and she wore another of the thin, almost transparent, short silk shifts, this time in a turquoise color that almost matched her eyes.

Wolf looked at her sternly. “You disappoint me greatly, slave, and you have earned a punishment. Do you know why?”

Petra hung her head in shame, her eyes downcast as she said, “Because I did not ask our guests if any of them had food allergies. I am sorry, Master, it is my fault Fräulein Jenni became ill.”

“That is correct. Choose your punishment and prepare yourself.” He sat down in an ornately carved, high-back chair on a raised platform next to the St. Andrew’s Cross. It reminded Ivorie of a throne. He watched impassively as Petra gracefully slipped out of the silk shift, folded it neatly, and placed it next to his chair. She bowed slightly to him and walked naked to the wall where a selection of whips, paddles, belts, canes, and other frightening implements was stored.

Ivorie was horrified. They had been traveling with Jenni and Chris for twelve days, and she had not known about Jenni’s seafood allergy. Now, Petra was to be punished for the oversight. It did not seem fair to her.

Petra surveyed the wall of punishment instruments. She did not appear to be terrified, as Ivorie would have been, but only stoic and reconciled to her fate. She chose a bamboo cane with a beautifully carved dragon handle. Ivorie was shocked. It looked lethal. She brought it to Wolf, knelt down in front of his chair, and handed it to him.

“Are you sure, Petra? While I am very angry with you right now, I think this is too harsh a punishment.”

She bowed her head, kissed his hand, and said, “Yes, Master. I deserve to be punished for my oversight that has caused our guest to be ill.” She fastened the ankle and wrist cuffs she had taken from the wall. Her dignity was touching, and Ivorie found herself becoming more and more upset by the spectacle. She gripped Drew’s hand tightly, and he pulled her close to his side.

Petra rose gracefully and went to an angled bench next to the wall where she bent over and waited for Wolf to fasten her restraints. He checked them carefully after snapping them to the eyebolts on the bench. He gently moved the long braid over her shoulder and ran his hands down her back and over her upraised bottom before he massaged a pleasant-smelling lotion into her skin. He looked over at his guests. “This will protect her and also prevent infection should I accidently break the skin. I know this might seem harsh to you ladies, but this is our arrangement. I would have preferred just a good spanking, but this is Petra’s choice.” Ivorie could see he didn’t look very happy about it at the moment.

Wolf took his position behind and slightly to the left of the spanking bench. He tested the tensile strength of the cane by swishing it back and forth a few times. The whistling sound it made sent shivers up Ivorie’s spine. “You will receive five strikes. It is not necessary to count. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Master. Please administer my punishment.” Ivorie was surprised that she did not sound frightened and was not pleading for mercy.

The first whistling strike landed with stinging force across Petra’s buttocks, sending a ripple through the taut muscles of her bottom. She made a slight hissing sound but otherwise did not say anything. It was followed by four more equally stunning strikes, none of which overlapped each other, but left evenly spaced red welts across her bottom. Tears were running down her cheeks as Wolf gently applied more of the antiseptic cream before he released her restraints and picked her up. He cradled her in his arms as he wrapped her in a soft cotton blanket and sat in his chair with her.

“My friends, I need to see to Petra’s aftercare. Please enjoy the dungeon and amuse yourselves as you will.”

* * * *

Ivorie was enthralled as Greg gestured for Natasha to stand on the platform beneath a bamboo-pole-and-pulley system attached to the ceiling. His stunning physique was highlighted by the skintight leathers while the red, green, and black dragon on his chest was on full display. “Strip, sub. I am pleased to say that you have been exceptionally well behaved lately and have not earned a similar punishment.” He went to a cabinet and withdrew several lengths of strong, indigo-colored, natural hemp bondage rope. He bound her wrists and ankles with the hemp rope and then motioned for her to stand beneath the pulley system suspended from the ceiling. “I think I will please myself by binding you.”

Natasha bowed to him in what looked to Ivorie to be a traditional Japanese style. “Whatever pleases my Master.” He returned her bow. He proceeded to tie a series of elaborate knots down the center of her naked chest and pubic area, crisscrossing and pulling the ropes tight until they framed and enhanced her abundant breasts. He continued the pattern of knots down between her parted thighs and around her pouting, pink pussy lips and tugged it tight. He wove more ropes into the intricate design he had fashioned until he had her bound to several bamboo poles and suspended above the floor in an artistic pose with her legs spread wide open. Her dragon tattoo was highlighted by the dark rope tied around her thighs and butt.

Drew whispered in Ivorie’s ear, “Greg is a Kinbaku, or Shibari, master. That’s the ancient Japanese practice of tying knots in geometric patterns and shapes to emphasize the curves and planes of the female body. Done correctly, it’s very beautiful. The slightly rough texture of the ropes enhances the smooth skin and curves while the placement of the knots on pressure points enhances the sub’s pleasure. Greg takes pride in never repeating a pattern. It’s an art form.”

Ivorie was intrigued. “The contrast of the dark ropes against her pale skin is beautiful, as is the way she looks hanging from the ceiling in a ballet-like pose. She looks like an airborne sculpture.”

When he was finished, Greg stood back to admire his work. Then he approached the immobilized Natasha. He licked and sucked her nipples, which were squeezed prominently forward by the pressure of the ropes. Then he bent his head to the juncture of her thighs and proceeded to use his mouth and tongue to bring her to a stunning orgasm that rolled through her vulnerable body. She was helpless as she was suspended in the air. Ivorie could see that implicit trust was integral to this procedure.

* * * *

Drew knew that his hard-on was going to burst through his leathers if he didn’t get relief soon. Watching first Petra’s punishment and then Natasha’s bondage display had put him in a precarious position. He desperately wanted to bury himself in Ivorie’s hot core, but he did not think she was ready for a display of public sex. He did want her to experience a true D/s scene, however.

“Strip, sub. Are you ready to serve your Master?”

Ivorie had a tentative look on her face but said, “Yes, Master.” He could see she was wondering what he had in mind. While she took off her skirt and tank top, he flipped the buttons on his leathers open and let his granite-hard erection spring free. He sat down in a luxuriously upholstered chair, leaned back, and spread his legs. He gestured to a naked Ivorie to come closer, and she eagerly knelt down between his knees.

“Pleasure me, sub. Mouth and lips only.” He saw the light of mischief in her eyes and cocked his eyebrow. “No nonsense. Do a good job and you will be rewarded. Disappoint me and you will be punished.” He could see that gave her pause for thought and smiled to himself. Ivorie still did not really understand submission. He knew he did not want submission on a full-time basis like Wolf, and certainly he did not want a slave. He grinned to himself. A little judicious respect and obedience would be welcome.

Drew watched as Ivorie took the tip of his engorged cock between her pink lips and began to lick around the glans, running her tongue lightly along the slit as she gathered the drop of salty pre-cum. She closed her lips around the top and began to suck gently. Then she ran her tongue along the veins on the underside. She kissed and sucked her way up and down his shaft as she obediently kept her hands on her thighs. Drew began to breathe heavily as his rock-hard cock bobbed against her lips. She took his cock into her mouth as deeply as she was able without engaging her gag reflex and continued the suction until his balls tightened, and he blasted a stream of semen into the back of her throat. She dutifully swallowed and smiled up at him as she continued to lick him until he was clean. She lifted an eyebrow in inquiry, and when he nodded his assent, she tucked his cock back into his black leathers and buttoned him closed.

“We’ll continue this in our room, sub. I don’t think you’re ready to put on a show and have sex in the dungeon.” When she rubbed her cheek against his thigh and flashed him a grateful smile, he was glad he had decided not to push the conclusion in the dungeon.

* * * *

Ivorie followed Drew back to their room. When he had closed the door behind them, he pulled her up against his chest. “You did well for a newbie sub, Ivorie. I was proud of you.”

She didn’t know what to say in answer to his praise. “Thank you. I’m glad I didn’t embarrass or disappoint you.” She had been nervous, especially when she had realized Jenni and Chris would not be there, but in truth, she had also been very excited by the activities in the dungeon. Greg and Natasha’s demonstration of bondage had been strangely beautiful. Petra’s punishment had been disturbing, but in some ways exciting as well. She certainly did not want to experience a cane across her bottom, but the spanking Drew had given her had made her hot, and she wouldn’t mind trying that again. But she didn’t know how to tell him that. She hoped he’d figure it out for himself.

“Master, may I disrobe you?” At his nod, she smiled up at him as she pushed the leather vest off his shoulders. She ran her hands down over his impressive chest and kissed her way down to the waistband of his leathers. She opened the buttons and pushed the leathers down his hips. He stepped out of them, picked her up, and walked to the bed where he deposited her on the satin counterpane.

He pulled the tank over her head and slid her skirt down over her hips. When she was naked, he laid down on the bed beside her. He smiled into her eyes as he ran his hand down over her silky abdomen and found the pearly wetness between her legs. He kissed down the center of her stomach, put his hot mouth on her center, and sucked at her throbbing clit. When she was writhing in desperation, he slid two fingers through her cream and into her hot center. He rubbed her throbbing clit as she pushed up against the palm of his hand eager for more.

* * * *

Drew quickly donned a condom, rolled over, and pulled Ivorie beneath him. He positioned his shaft at her hot, wet opening and drove in to the hilt. He stilled for a moment to give her body time to adjust, and then he began the long, slow, luxurious strokes that he knew would drive her crazy. He’d had the edge taken off by Ivorie’s ministrations in the dungeon and could now afford to take it slow and easy. He’d make her beg for completion before he was done. He buried his face in her neck to hide his grin. Ms. James was in for the ride of a lifetime.