by Frost, E J
Well, duh.
I struggle like my life depends on it.
Logan smacks my ass with every step. It’s over my dress but it still stings because the Black Knight is the hardest-handed, blackest-hearted brute that’s ever lived in the history of the world. It feels like he’s whacking my butt with a slab of granite. I don’t know if it’s the position or the leverage he’s got or what but it smarts like fuck. I’m howling again before we’re ten steps down the hall, over Logan’s wicked chuckling.
Vashi follows a few steps behind me with Shaan gripping her shoulders. Niall follows his subbies, carrying a toy bag in each hand, and whistling a happy tune.
We’re a strange, noisy procession as we move down the corridor. A few people stop Niall to ask what scene we’re doing. Others just laugh. I get redder, and hotter, and more outraged on Princess Amber’s behalf. How dare the scurvy knave treat a princess like this?
Or is scurvy only a pirate thing? I can’t remember.
I’m going to have to get my insults straight before we start the scene, because if calling the Black Knight a doofus got my daddy doubling-over with laughter, he ain’t seen nothing yet. I’ve got years of research ready to unleash on the Black Knight’s sorry behind. And I would be fine to remember them all if Logan would just put me down so the blood stops rushing to my head. He’s such a scurvy knave.
But he doesn’t put me down. He carries me, and spanks me, down the long corridor, all the way to the other end of the ship. It’s really not fair. When we finally get to the dungeon, he doesn’t let me down, but walks around, letting me see everything from my upside-down vantage point. The dungeon’s a long, rectangular room with three scene areas. There’s a raised dais at one end with a couple of throne-like chairs clustered under a red canopy. Around the dais is a half wall, broken by a wide archway, which separates the dais from the rest of the room. That’s a castle fit for a kinky princess, if I ever saw one.
The middle scene area is more dungeon-y, with a double chain station, two standing crosses, several bondage tables, stocks, and a canopied bed.
At the far end of the room, forty or fifty feet from the dais, there’s a long oval table surrounded by benches. Both the edge of the table and the benches are padded, with lots of suspicious rings set into them. The table isn’t piled with knightly meat and drink, but rather rope, Velcro cuffs, towels, bottles of lube, bottles of water, and bowls of condoms.
There aren’t any tools or toys set out, other than the rope, but most people bring their own, at least to the dungeon parties I’ve been to. Too much risk of infection if you use toys someone else has used. Besides, it’s kind of icky. There are a bunch of weapons in the room: swords, crossed-axes, and wicked-looking halberds, which I hope are plastic, because edge-play with any of them would be deadly. They decorate the faux-stone walls, hung around shields of all sizes. Sconces between the shields flicker like torches, making everything seem scarier and more authentic.
The whole room makes me wiggle nervously.
On the second circuit of the room, Logan stops to talk to a blonde woman wearing a pink armband over a tight, black shirt. She’s got some serious muscles underneath, too, along with enviable boobies. She introduces herself as Rebecca, the scene monitor. After she goes over safety procedures and inspects the contents of Logan’s and Niall’s bags, she tells Daddy how sorry she is she won’t be participating, as Paul had nothing but good things to say about our previous scene.
Then she leans around Logan and tips her head down to smile at me. “I have a little boy of my own back in L.A. He’s got an exhibition this week so he can’t be with me. I can’t tell you how much I’m missing him.”
I feel Logan’s shoulder flex under my tummy. “Emily’s going to be role-playing for most of the scene, but if she goes into subspace she may present as a little. Are you okay with that?”
“Sure. Any issues? Emily, can you still use your safe word when you’re little?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good, that should be fine.”
“If you have some time this week,” Logan says to Rebecca. “Any chance I could pick your brains? I’m new to this dynamic and I’d appreciate any insights you have into topping a little.”
My daddy wants tips for topping me? That makes my tummy squirm. Am I so difficult to top? Maybe I can get him to tell me what she says and then I can reassure him that he really is the best daddy in the world.
“Happy to,” Rebecca says.
They arrange to meet for lunch the day after tomorrow and just as I’m wondering if I’m going to be on my own for lunch that day, since I doubt I’m invited to their Dom-talk, Logan asks Niall if Vashi can have lunch with me.
I wriggle and whisper my thanks. My daddy takes such good care of me. He really doesn’t need tips, even though it’s so cool that he’s reached out for them. None of my other Doms have been that humble.
When they’re done chatting, Niall takes Vashi over to the table and has her kneel on top of it. He cuffs her hands together in front and runs rope to attachment points on each side of the table. She’s comfortable and free to look around, but she’s not going anywhere. Once he’s done with Vashi, Niall leads Shaan to the other end of the room, through the arch, and up onto the dais. As Logan strides along behind them, I hear Niall talking softly to Shaan.
“By not cagin’ yer cock, I’m showing how much I love yeh. What d’yeh say?”
Shaan grunts something into the ball gag that sounds not at all polite. Interpreting gag-speak is a gift I don’t have, but what Shaan said sounds suspiciously like “fuck off.”
Niall evidently thinks so, too. “When yeh doan show respect for me gifts, stócach, it makes me see me arse. Turn around.”
As Logan finally lowers me to my feet, Niall takes out a fat, black marker and writes, “choke me with your cock,” below the wet patch from Shaan’s drool on the front of his dress.
Shaan howls into the gag.
“Keep it up,” Niall warns him. “Plenty more things I can write on yer frock.”
Logan gives me a firm pop on my already-stinging butt, which gets him my immediate attention. “Go sit in the middle chair, Princess.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Even though I’m distracted by what Niall’s doing to Shaan, and a little dizzy from being upside-down for so long, I hop over to the chair. There’s a time and place to be defiant, and this isn’t it.
Leaving me to watch Niall dominate Shaan, Logan moves around the room. He and Rebecca drag a big wooden tub close to the door and fill it with swords. I can see from the way he handles these swords that they’re plastic, which cools my anxiety a hair. Then he moves an empty rack close to the chain station and hangs cuffs and floggers from his toy bag on its hooks. The floggers are definitely not plastic. I can see both the knotty one and the one with metal rivets, a sight that shoots my anxiety back up into the stratosphere.
After he secures Shaan to the arm of my chair, Niall joins Logan at the chain station and pulls out his own tools, including an absolutely terrifying-looking short whip.
“He’s not going to whip you, is he, Mr. Shaan?” I whisper.
Shaan groans into the ball gag and tips his head back against the chair.
Oh, wow, he totally is.
Logan returns after he’s finished unpacking his toys. I give him the widest eyes I can manage because the floggers look super-scary.
He chuckles, picks me up out of the chair and sits down with me in his lap. “Before Rebecca opens the door and we really start the scene, tell me how you’re doing, little girl?”
“I’m good, Daddy, except that your floggers look really mean. But I’m still excited. And thank you for checking in with me before we get started. It makes me feel super-safe.”
There, that should reassure him that he’s doing a great job of topping me.
He kisses the tip of my nose. “That’s my girl. What are the safe words for tonight?”
I notice he doesn’t reassure me
about the floggers, but I focus on his question. “Yellow if I’m overwhelmed, frightened for real, or at my pain threshold. Red if I need you to stop and check-in.”
“Good girl. I may ask you for colors throughout the scene just to see where you think you’re at. This is a fair-sized room but with thirty people in here it’s going to be very busy. I’ll lay down some ground rules at the beginning, including that no one touches you but me and that no one’s to humiliate you. We already know that not everyone aboard is great at following scene rules, though, so if someone touches you or says something that upsets you, I want to hear your safe words right away. Don’t wait for me to ask a color or I’ll be displeased. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Right.” He tucks a strand of my hair that’s worked loose from my braid behind my ear and kisses me again. “I don’t intend to let you go once the knights sack the castle, but if we get separated for any reason and you’re frightened, go to Niall or Rebecca. Either of them will take care of you. Any questions?”
“No, Daddy.”
“Okay, my sweet girl. Time to get in character. Who are you?”
I lift my chin. “Princess Amber, the most defiant princess who ever lived.”
He nips my chin and grins before standing like I weigh nothing and depositing me back on the chair. He bows to me and his grin grows wicked. “The Black Knight salutes you, Princess Amber. But I’m still going to raze your castle to the fucking ground.”
He flashes me another grin before he strides away, making a circuit to his toy bag to pull out a black helmet and tuck it under his arm. Where did he get that? Is there a costume department on the ship? I swear, there’s everything else. He checks in with Niall, who is standing next to the table, talking with Vashi, before giving Rebecca the nod.
She opens the door and the noise of the crowd outside washes into the otherwise quiet room. The crowd’s babble thins as they file in. There are more men than women. They wear a variety of clothes, from a big-bellied man who’s wearing a black leather harness and a matching G-string, through a gamut of black jeans and sundresses, to a woman in a full-length, Renaissance gown.
When Paul, our previous monitor, walks in, he winks at me. Our tour-guide from this morning follows him, still wearing her bikini top along with a saucy mini-skirt and a pink collar. She waves and I give her a princess wave back.
“Thanks for coming to our scene,” Logan says, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’m Logan and my submissive on the throne there is Emily. For the scene tonight, I’m the Black Knight and Emily is Princess Amber. We’re doing a capture and punishment scene. I put on the board that this is a medium impact scene and I will be marking Emily. If anyone’s uncomfortable with that, please speak to Rebecca, the dungeon monitor.”
Logan waits while Rebecca raises her hand to identify herself before he continues. “As indicated on the board, this is an open scene, so everyone is welcome to play. Rebecca has wristbands. Tops, your wristbands are blue. Bottoms, your wristbands are yellow. If you switch, grab both. If you’re available for sex with someone other than your partner, please pick up a pink wristband. If you’re available to give or receive punishment, please pick up a white wristband. No wristband means you’re not available for sex or play with anyone other than your partner. Emily and I will not be wearing wristbands. No one touches Emily but me. I won’t allow anyone to verbally or physically humiliate her. It’s a no-strikes rule. Do it even once and I’ll escort you out. Scene safe word is red. Anyone who’s just watching, please sit at the table. Anyone who wants to play a knight, gather around the sword barrel. Anyone who wants to play a lady or a wench, join Emily in the castle. After the knights storm the castle and take the ladies and wenches captive, there will be an opportunity to negotiate before we start the punishment aspect of the scene. Please pick up your wristbands from Rebecca before we begin.”
I get so excited listening to my daddy as he sets out the scene rules that it’s hard not to wriggle out of my chair. But Princess Amber would be cool and haughty, so I just toss my head at Logan when he glances at me. He grins and moves to the sword barrel.
Niall collects wristbands from Rebecca and strolls over, sliding blue and white bands up his arm. He holds Shaan’s eyes as he approaches, and I shiver at the power in just that look. Shaan must be melting into the floor. He doesn’t show it, though, as he yells something incomprehensible but clearly not very polite into the ball gag. Niall leans down to kiss him on the head before unbuckling one cuff, pushing yellow, pink, and white bands up Shaan’s forearm, before restraining him again.
“If I take out the gag, can yeh be good?” Niall asks Shaan.
Shaan doesn’t answer, but his eyes, which I thought were so warm and kind, shoot daggers at Niall.
Niall pats the top of Shaan’s head. “I see that’s a no. I’ll just let the other knights know that they should take out the gag when they want to use yer mouth. An’ to expect some cursin’.”
Shaan yells something into the gag that’s definitely a swear word.
Chuckling, Niall walks away to join Daddy at the sword barrel.
After collecting wristbands, ladies and wenches begin filing through the arch and climbing up on the dais. I want to retreat from so many strangers, but Princess Amber wouldn’t. I stiffen my spine and greet each of them regally. Our tour guide, who has the same wristbands as Shaan, curls up in one of the chairs beside me and starts chattering away about our day in Cabo. As I’m trying to respond, the lady in the Renaissance gown sits on my other side. She introduces herself as Gabriela during a break in Mikaela’s chatter.
“Your dress is lovely,” Gabriela says.
“Nothing as nice as yours. I mean, this is like out of a music video but yours looks authentic. My da—the Black Knight is going to flog it off me so it’s kind of disposable. Yours won’t get ruined, will it?” I ask.
Her gown definitely isn’t disposable. Up close, I can see all the embroidery on the brocade bodice and tiny seed pearls clustered to make flowers on the gold, satin skirt. It must have cost a fortune.
Gabriela smiles. “No. I’ll have my husband remove it if necessary.”
“You’re married?”
Another kinky couple. I didn’t expect there to be so many couples on the cruise, I guess because the dungeon parties and munches I’ve been to have been more for singles. I can see why Logan needed me as his cover. As a single Dom, he’d have stood out.
“For three years in August,” Gabriela tells me. “Are you and Logan married?”
I shake my head and bite my lip. Not married. Not even living together yet, although the happy tingles in my blood turn into full-blown fireworks whenever I think about moving in with Logan for the summer. But married? I’m not sure. Marriage wasn’t any kind of magic wand with Ash. I don’t want the same thing to happen with Logan.
“You seem very close,” she observes.
She can tell that from two minutes of watching us?
“I watched your cheerleader scene,” she continues. “He’s a conscientious top and you respond beautifully to him.”
Something ticks over in my mind and I check her wrist. She’s wearing blue and white wristbands. She’s a Domme? No wonder she’s not worried about her dress.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She smiles, the skin around her deep brown eyes crinkling. “I’m looking forward to watching your flogging, Emily.”
I could get lost in her eyes. Her power is really quiet. Nothing like Logan’s or Niall’s. They wear theirs like winter coats, big and woolly and staticky when you brush up against them. Hers is like quicksand. It sucks you down and swamps you and there’s no way out.
“Th-thank you, ma’am.”
She smiles again before glancing at the knights, breaking the spell. Wow. Just that long moment of eye contact and I’m quivering and covered in goose bumps. I’m not even attracted to women, but if she told me to kneel, I totally would. Yikes. I feel sorry for her sub if he ever dar
es step out of line.
Thinking about kneeling makes me search out Logan in the crowd. He’s still standing near the barrels of swords, deep in a pow-wow with his knights. There’s only a dozen of them by my quick count and I glance around to see where the others went.
Two men are sitting at the table, well away from Vashi and I’m sure Niall engineered it that way because he’s a good Dom, even though no one will ever be as wonderfully protective as my daddy. One of the men has a collared woman kneeling by his chair, so that means we’re down to ten women, although maybe Shaan counts as one? As I look around, I realize another man has joined the wenches. He’s not wearing a dress. He’s barely wearing anything at all: just a pair of teeny, tiny gold shorts that dip all the way down to the root of his dick. His cock’s outlined by the shorts and it’s obvious he has a really big piercing. Double yikes. He’s talking a million miles an hour to Mikaela and another woman wearing a Pink Pearl bikini. They all have the same yellow, pink, and white wristbands. Maybe that evens the numbers up? I hope so. I really don’t want to see anyone triple-teamed.
All thoughts of numbers, kneeling, and Gabriela’s quicksand power fly straight out of my head when Logan sets his helmet over his head, grabs a sword out of the barrel, and stalks towards the archway with his sword held high.
“Princess Amber,” he booms. “I’ve slain your father. Everything he owned belongs to me. Yield your castle and I’ll spare you and your ladies.”
Not a chance.
I jump out of the chair and race to block the archway. I stick my hand out as though that’s somehow going to stop him, which is kind of ridiculous because he could bulldoze me in a single step. But it’s totally something Princess Buttercup would do.
“Hold, sodden-witted knave! Where is your proof?” I draw myself up on my toes, as tall as I can go. Logan’s still looking down about six inches at me, and his glower through the cross-shaped opening of the helmet is really impressive. It makes me quake in my non-existent boots, but Princess Amber would show no fear. She’s a cast-iron, nuclear-winter iceberg. “My father is vassal to King Henry and I hold Castle Amber in his name. Sack this place at your peril, addle-pated fool!”
