by Mlyn Hurn
The rest of the evening was uneventful, and they were in time to meet up with the others before the party doors opened.
Andy began to think she couldn’t be shocked any more. The Dungeon party went on in the center of the room in addition to circulating ‘round the perimeter. That’s where the individual scenarios had been staged. Some were quite small, and people would stand and watch for a few moments before moving on to the next.
A few of the exhibitions had chairs set in a few rows, inviting passersby to sit and observe for longer periods. One very elaborate play lasted about twenty minutes. By the time she came upon this, their group had splintered completely. She was actually by herself. Jack had been pulled off somewhere by Tony and Danny in response to “you just gotta see this!”
An hour remained before the private party was to start, and getting off her feet sounded like a spectacular idea. She chose a seat from the mostly empty chairs, seeing the next showing began in thirty minutes. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be anything else which caught her off-guard. Several times, she had barely stopped the “oh my God” from popping out.
Once she’d agreed to the cruise with her publisher footing the bill, she had done some Internet research. Yet reading, even looking at pictures could not prepare her enough to hide her naïveté. She didn’t feel quite so bad when she heard a few other women gasping. Everywhere she looked men could be seen nearly tripping over their lolling tongues, but otherwise it was a controlled party atmosphere.
The guidelines had been clearly posted outside the party area, and Ethan had reviewed them again before they went in. He’d also pointed out the bouncers, all big, muscular guys, dressed in black leather vests with masks obscuring the upper portion of their heads, leaving only peepholes for their eyes. She had little doubt those men could quickly remove someone not observing the rules.
She tried to file away things she saw into separate files in her brain, but with so many different scenes she’d observed it was confusing to keep them all straight. She wished her purse had been big enough to hold her PDA. She did have a small recording device, but it wouldn’t hold as much. Pulling it from the white bag, she lifted it to only a few inches from her mouth.
“Separate areas for each display. The torture things are the ones I just don’t get the appeal. I can understand the prolonged sexual stimulation. But how can pain be enjoyed?” She paused, thinking about it for a moment. “Maybe it is only people who have never truly experienced real physical pain, either from disease, injury, or at the evil hands of another that can derive pleasure from pain.”
“Perhaps it is because their emotional pain is buried so deeply inside this is the only way they can find peace, or arousal.” A deep husky voice spoke from directly behind her chair.
Andy gasped and twisted around. She saw the sensual sound belonged to a slender man dressed in a tuxedo. Unlike many of the others in the room, this man looked as if he were perfectly at ease in these expensive clothes the same as he’d be in jeans. He had longish black hair, blue eyes and that sexy one-to-two-day growth of beard. She didn’t know who this guy was, but he looked European and perfect to star as her next heroic vampire!
“I apologize for eavesdropping, but it is so rare to find an unattached beautiful woman at one of these things I had to discover if you truly are by yourself, or merely been misplaced temporarily.”
Andy had to smile as the stranger’s mouth turned up seductively at one corner. “That implies I belong to someone who could then lose me,” she pointed out, in an exaggerated patient tone.
“Precisely.” The man nodded. He pulled the chair next to her back a foot or so, and then stepped through and sat sideways on the next chair. This allowed him to look right at her, she realized. Immediately, a blush began moving up her neck. “While these things are not exclusive to the BDSM lifestyle, it has been my experience the majority of couples contain a male Dom. Most of the women at these things are subs, even if they don’t yet know it.”
Andy bristled at his words, but stopped as she saw the twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve met people like you before.” She pointed her index finger at him. “You like to stir up trouble. You deliberately espouse what you believe to be incendiary thoughts. I bet you then like to sit back and watch the verbal and emotional fireworks.”
The stranger smiled, pressing his palm flat over his heart. “Guilty as charged, but it isn’t trouble I seek.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. He clasped his hands, interlacing his fingers. “Sometimes it is good to nudge people, and play the devil’s advocate.”
“You are probably one of those ‘out of the box’ types. You love change, being on edge and the adrenaline surge you get from the emotional brouhaha is your drug,” Andy replied succinctly. “Sir, you are a bad boy. Or that is what my best friend’s mama called the boys who were always in trouble and one step ahead of the law.”
“Madam, do you accuse me of being an outlaw?”
Andy blushed even brighter. That’s pretty much precisely what she’d just done. “I am sorry. I don’t even know you and here I go accusing you—”
Immediately, the stranger stood, bowed slightly at the waist and offered his hand to her. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Peter Waldron.”
Andy put her hand out to shake his, but was taken aback as he turned it, and then leaned over further to press a light kiss to her knuckles. As he straightened, she realized why she had thought he looked familiar. “You’re that duke guy!”
Peter sat back down, nodding. “Guilty as charged, but I don’t use the title much, when I’m traveling. It tends to draw too much attention.”
Andy nodded. She decided not to sympathize verbally because she didn’t want him asking why she chose to avoid notoriety. Instead, she changed the topic. “Are you a Dom on this cruise with a sub?” The minute the words left her mouth, she realized how impertinent the question sounded.
Peter nodded. “I tend to the dominant choice, but I’m woefully all alone on this cruise. Or rather I’m here with friends from London. Now, back to you. Are you alone and why are you talking into a micro-recorder?”
“I am on this cruise with friends from my college days. It’s kind of a reunion, I guess. One of them suggested the cruise instead of just meeting at some hotel or going to the infamous mouse park.”
“Hmm,” Peter paused, staring at her.
Andy fidgeted under his intentness.
“I should imagine visiting Mickey and Donald would be rather fun with you,” he finally said. “Anyway, why the recorder?”
Andy frowned. “I hoped you’d forget that part.”
“Not likely. Also recording equipment is not allowed in these things.”
“I know, but I figured since I wasn’t recording the actual displays—”
Peter shrugged. “I won’t tell those big guys in leather if you tell me why.”
“You wouldn’t really turn me in. I’m sure you are too nice—”
Peter stood, craning his neck as he looked around the immediate area.
Andy reached out and tugged on his sleeve. “Okay, okay, I’ll confess.” She tucked the recorder back inside her purse. “I’m taking notes so I can write a book.”
“Damn!” Peter had already resumed his seat, but now he leaned forward. “Are you going to write one of those exposé books that tell all and embarrass people, using their real names?”
Andy shook her head. “No, I write romance novels.”
“I wouldn’t have thought the American housewife was into BDSM.”
“That is the second time you’ve made an assumption. Anyway, once my editor heard I was going on this cruise, he talked to the publisher. They paid for me to have a better cabin so I could work.”
“How much working have you managed so far? Wait! I told you my name, but you managed to skip telling me yours.”
“Sorry. Andrea Bond. Unfortunately, I haven’t done anything concrete, which is why I thought if I recorded some first impressions here to
night I might get a germ of an idea.”
“How about you and I work on a story together? I bet between us we could come up with a few steamy scenes.”
Andy blushed as his words evoked a rush of nervousness. Writing about sexual situations alone in her apartment was definitely a different set of circumstances than talking about it with an attractive stranger. Feeling on edge and too warm, she blew a puff of hair upwards into her bangs. “What if I decide I need to be the one in charge? Could you handle that?”
Peter shrugged. “I’ve wondered about that myself. I think if it is the right woman, it will feel right.”
“Andy! I couldn’t figure out where you’d disappeared to!”
Andy shifted on her chair and saw Jack had indeed found her. His all-American appearance was almost the exact opposite of the bad boy look Peter had. “Hello, Jack. I had to sit down and slip these darn shoes off. I saw this show didn’t start for thirty minutes so I took advantage.”
As Jack neared, Peter stood.
Andy introduced the two men. “Peter, this is Jack Riley. He is part of the group I am traveling with. Jack, this is Peter Waldron.”
She watched as the two men shook hands.
Peter turned to her a moment later. He pulled a business card from his pocket, holding it out. As she accepted it, Peter smiled. “Call me if you’d like to learn some facts from a pro.”
Andy watched as the smooth British lord of the realm departed. She sat, aware of Jack straightening the chairs and then sitting in the one right next to her. Opening her small bag, she tucked the card inside.
“What’s he a pro at?” Jack’s voice caused her to look up.
She told herself not to read too much into his question or his tone. Undoubtedly, he was merely curious about a stranger. “I think he referred to this lifestyle. He said he was a Dom, but has no sub with him on this cruise.” Andy was sure she heard Jack growl low in his throat before he spoke a second later.
“Was he hitting on you to be his sub?”
Andy shook her head, glancing sideways for a second. She hated sitting like this because you always got a crick in your neck trying to look at the other person. Instead, she faced straight ahead. “English dukes don’t hit on women. And he certainly doesn’t look like he has to hit on any woman. I’m sure they are lining up wherever he slows down long enough for a line to form.”
“Damn! Peter Waldron. I thought he looked familiar. And any man, who isn’t gasping his last breath, will hit on a beautiful woman.”
Andy had shaken her head before she realized what Jack said. Was he saying she was beautiful? That certainly wasn’t a way she’d ever felt comfortable thinking about herself. Most definitely her friends would all be considered pretty or beautiful.
“How much longer do you want to stay at this party?” Jack interrupted her thoughts.
“You want to leave?” Andy knew she didn’t keep the surprise from her voice. She would have thought the guys would really be enjoying this kinky kind of stuff. “I thought men enjoyed this kind of thing.”
Jack shifted around in his chair so he could look at her. The intentness of his gaze unnerved her somewhat. She wondered if she should have just kept her last opinion to herself. Had she insulted him?
“I was just asking a question. I didn’t say I wasn’t enjoying this,” he replied tersely.
There was something in his voice, which went up slightly at the end, revealing he’d been emotionally affected by her remarks and questions.
“I keep imagining unwrapping you from that dress.”
His words caught her off-guard.
Andy gasped in surprise, while her heart sped up and her breath came in short, staccato puffs.
“You remind me of a perfectly wrapped present,” he went on. “While I can see how lovely and sweet you are all wrapped and tied up with white and gold, I have no doubt what I find inside will be amazing.”
Andy told herself to look away. Yup, that was precisely what she must do. Don’t believe his sweet talk. It will only break your heart. Instead, she felt her heart trip up to triple speed. Her breath became uneven and the butterflies in her stomach suddenly developed attention deficit with hyperactivity. Damn!
“Hey, you two!”
Gayle sat in the seat directly in front of Andy. Ray looked sheepish as he flopped into the chair beside her.
Gayle twisted around to smile at Andy and Jack. “Oh, my God! Andy, can you believe this stuff? I know my mouth keeps falling open as I gape from one shocking display to the next.”
Ray glanced back over his shoulder. “Tell me about it! I’m the one who has to keep closing it for her.”
Andy smiled, shaking her head. “You aren’t alone. I came over here because the chairs were empty, and there wasn’t a show scheduled for half an hour. I figured I could get some respite from being embarrassed and startled, not to mention giving my feet a break from these heels.”
“I’m glad I’m not alone in that, at least. Medical school didn’t prepare me for this, but Ray is beyond being shocked,” Gayle added, chuckling.
“He’s already seen it all,” Jack murmured a moment later.
Ray reacted immediately. “I have not!”
Gayle winked at Andy. “Hmm, I think I’ll not comment further.”
Andy smiled, truly enjoying the warm feeling of camaraderie she experienced with these people who had been her friends a long time ago. What surprised her was it had been so long since she’d felt like this and she’d forgotten how special it was to share moments like this with people you cared about, and had a common history with as well. Feeling like her old self, she replied, “Sounds like he’ll be having a tame bachelor party!”
As she and Gayle laughed, she saw the affronted looks on not just Ray’s face but Jack’s as well.
“I’m in charge of the party and I think I’ve just been insulted.” Jack scowled, looking from Ray to Andy.
Andy laughed. “Perhaps you could borrow a piece of paper and pencil and make some notes.”
Ray guffawed loudly, turning enough to punch Jack on his arm. “Dang! She got you with that one, dude!”
“Shh!” Gayle shushed her fiancé. “The show is going to start.”
Andy settled into her seat, quietly pulling out her small recorder. She didn’t know what she might see, but she didn’t want to take the chance of missing or forgetting something. Beside her she was aware of Jack moving on his chair, scooting it a little bit closer, and then putting his arm along the back of her chair. When she looked sideways at him, he merely gave her a small smile and then turned his attention back to the stage. Doing the same and stop trying to second-guess everything would be her wisest course of action.
Looking forward as the curtains swept open, she saw a tall, gray-haired man come onto the small stage—
Chapter Six
“Welcome, Masters and Mistresses, ladies and gentlemen! I’m sure you will enjoy this little scenario. We now enter The Castle of Dark Pleasure run by Mistress Danica. Enjoy!”
A tall, raven-haired woman walked onto the small stage a moment after the gentleman left. She was dressed in black, covered from the base of her throat to her toes, which were encased in black boots. Other than the pale skin of her face and neck, she was black. Her hair was back in an elaborate chignon. Her makeup was perfect, highlighting her dark eyes and bright red lips. Moving to the center of the acting area, she removed her gloves.
“Pierre!” the woman called out.
She was joined a few seconds later by a tall, quite muscular—as evidenced by his bare chest—blond-haired man. He wore black leather pants, white cuffs and white collar, with a black silken bow tie. When he stopped a few feet from Mistress Danica, he stood with his hands behind his back.
“Yes, Mistress Danica?”
She walked around him slowly, looking his body over, up and down. “It appears you’ve forgotten I was to be greeted with my preferred evening cocktail.”
Pierre lowered his head as he rep
lied, “I’m sorry, Mistress Danica. I was in the kitchen and didn’t hear you enter until you called. I was preparing your cocktail when you sent for me.”
“Very well, but when you return, I want you to also bring me your favorite whip.”
Pierre jerked in surprise, but nodded and left quickly.
Mistress Danica turned to face the audience. Sighing loudly, she spoke as if she were speaking to herself. “Sometimes I think he deliberately disobeys just so he can feel the heat of the tails across that fine ass of his.”
A short spate of tittering laughter went through the audience.
A doorbell rang, and then a few seconds later a redheaded woman entered. This woman was dressed in the traditional French maid’s outfit. Her hair seemed to be pulled up and back, covered by a frilly white cap. Stiff black bombazine material concealed her arms, from shoulder to wrist, which was more of her body concealed than any place else. The bodice dipped low in front so that nearly the entire top half of her breasts were displayed surrounded by a one-inch frill of lace. The waist was tight and flared into a short skirt, which ended at the top of her thighs. There was a miniscule white apron, and beneath it all were several layers of equally short white crinoline. Black thigh-high stockings and four-inch heels completed the ensemble.
Jack leaned close to Andy and whispered. “I’d like to see you dressed in that little getup.”
Andy stiffened in her chair. Unnerving how close Jack’s words mirrored her own thoughts seconds earlier. She wanted to dress up to please, and certainly arouse, him! Without commenting, she stared at the stage.
“Mistress Danica?”
Danica turned to look at the maid. “Yes, Madeleine?”
“Monsieur Lascaux has arrived.”
“How delightful! Come in, Francois. You are just in time for Pierre’s disciplining. Would you like to assist me?”
The dark-haired man bowed low over Mistress Danica’s hand, kissing it lightly. “That sounds delightful. May I enjoy the lovely Madeleine, as well?”
