Harper's Submission [Golden Dolphin 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (8 page)

The Master, with the help of one of the female stewards, released both women, wrapped them in blankets, and put them on one of the sofas, while the Russian woman ushered the passengers out the room. Shit, he had seen that Russian woman around the ship a couple of times.
I’d sure like to get my hands on that one. What a body.
Harmon couldn’t believe the Master had brought two women to orgasms with so little effort on his part. Hot damn. He just might blow his load right here if he wasn’t careful. Now he had to move out of the room with the crowd and get back to the storeroom without being discovered. He tried to shield his face without being obvious and tried to stay close to the group in front of him as they made their way out to the passageway.

When Harmon was back in the storage room, he quickly scanned through the pictures on his cell phone. He couldn’t believe the gold mine on his phone. Too bad he couldn’t have used his digital camera and lens, but that would be far too dangerous in the close confines of the dungeon room. Nevertheless, he was thrilled with what he had gotten so far. Now that he knew the score and what was going on, he couldn’t wait to see what else he could get. He probably should take these pictures and run at the first opportunity, but he just couldn’t pass up the chance for an even bigger score. The mother lode was waiting for him in Court’s suite. He just knew it, and he wasn’t leaving without it.

Bar Harbor, Bar Harbor, Maine, on board the Golden Dolphin, November 13, 2013—Wednesday Morning, Day Four of the Cruise

Harper and Morgan woke early and went out to the main deck to watch for whales as the ship approached Bar Harbor and prepared to anchor in deep water. While they were having early coffee on the deck and waiting for breakfast, Harper had been thrilled to see a pod of pilot whales off the starboard side. She counted three of the black whales that were members of the dolphin family. The largest looked to be about twenty feet long. Harper couldn’t stay in her chair, and she leaned over the railing so far that Morgan had put his hands around her waist to anchor her on the deck.

“Babe, I’d hate to see you end up in the water. I think they mostly eat squid and octopus, but you might be a tempting morsel nonetheless.”

“Yikes! You’re right. I just got so excited. I’ve been looking forward to seeing whales. That’s the highlight of the trip for me.”

“Well, we could take a whale-watching cruise instead of sightseeing ashore if you would like that. We’re not pulling out until three o’clock.”

“That would be fabulous. I’ll call the purser and see if they can book something for us.”

Harper and Morgan took the tender to the dock and boarded the Kathi B whale-watching boat. It was a beautiful, sunny morning on the bay. As the boat made for open water, Harper enjoyed the white harbor seals and porpoises. They were about twenty miles out to sea in the Gulf of Maine when they entered the whale feeding grounds, and they saw their first humpback whale and heard it clearing its blow hole. The naturalist guide told the passengers that it was a female of about forty-five feet, and weighing approximately thirty tons. By identifying her unique dorsal fin and fluke pattern against the Humpback Whale Registry, he was able to tell them her registry number, history of sightings, physical markings and injuries, who her regular companions were, and that she had been seen with a calf in 2008. She was heading south to warmer waters for the winter.

Harper was thrilled just to watch her blow and flip her tail, but when she breached, Harper squealed with delight. When the whale approached the boat, Morgan, who was standing behind Harper, wrapped his arms securely around her waist and rested his chin on top of her head. Apparently he didn’t trust her not to get too excited and lean over the rail. She rested back against his chest and just enjoyed his warmth. The temperature out on the open water was a good fifteen degrees colder than it had been closer to shore.

“Oh, Morgan. She’s so beautiful. I wish we could see a calf. Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Keep your eyes open, babe. You never know.” He pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and snuggled her closer.

She felt the hard ridge of his erection against her back and surreptitiously wiggled her butt against him. “Hey, sailor! Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?”

He squeezed her tight and, laughing, said, “Watch it, Harper. A disrespectful attitude could get you into trouble with your Master.”

“No way. I don’t have a Master. I’m a Domme.”

“We need to talk about that. I want you to think about letting me take charge. I know we have been doing pretty well in bed, but your issues have not magically disappeared. You promised to think about it. Can I reserve a theme room for us tonight?” He continued to hold her tightly.

“I have thought about it, Morgan. I’m still a little nervous…but I guess I want to try. You seem to already know me so well, and I know that I trust you completely.”

Bar Harbor, Bar Harbor, Maine, on board the Golden Dolphin, November 13, 2013—Wednesday Evening, Day Four of the Cruise

Morgan had attempted to reserve a theme room for that evening, but unfortunately, by the time he had made the call, all of the rooms had been booked.

“Babe, how would you feel about doing our first scene in the dungeon? All the theme rooms are taken, and I really don’t want to wait until tomorrow. The sooner we start this process, the better.”

“I don’t know, Morgan. For our first scene I’d feel more comfortable with some privacy.” He knew his face was giving away his disappointment, and he quickly pasted on a bland expression. He could tell she saw right through him as she continued. “Okay, Morgan. I’m willing to try it in the dungeon. Hopefully there won’t be a lot of people in there tonight. If I freak, promise we’ll stop and try again tomorrow, okay?” She looked very nervous to him, and he wished he could reassure her. He knew, however, that this scene promised to be a very emotional and possibly trying experience for her. He planned to take her back through what he was sure would be some uncomfortable memories. They needed to be brought out into the light of day, or more accurately, the dark of the dungeon.

“Absolutely, Harper. You know I’ll want to push you, but you’ll have your safe word.”

* * * *

Harper was nervous but strangely excited as well. She knew this could either be very good for her, or a complete disaster, and she had no clue which it would be. Her years of therapy had obviously not solved her problems. Maybe it was time to try a different, if somewhat unorthodox, route. They had finished dinner while the ship was making way out into international waters toward Halifax, Canada. They had agreed to meet in the dungeon after each going back to their suites to change clothes. Harper knew that Morgan always wore a mask at Le Club Eastside and wondered whether he would do so aboard the
Golden Dolphin
. It would add a certain edge, however, and she hoped he would. That mask had featured in a few of her fantasies.

When Harper walked through the double doors of the dungeon, she immediately saw Morgan waiting for her. He wore the black leather pants and high boots that highlighted his spectacular body and prominent package. She was able to catch glimpses of his gorgeous muscled chest and six-pack abs under the open vest. She was not disappointed to see he also wore the mask she had seen before in New York. He was an imposing sight—not a Dom to be trifled with. A shiver of excitement skittered up her spine and down again to tickle her lady parts. She really didn’t know how to proceed. Although she was versed in D/s protocol from the Domme’s side of the procedure, she wasn’t sure how to begin as a sub.

Morgan walked up to her, put his hand on the small of her back, and propelled her toward a back corner of the room near the St. Andrew’s Cross. It was secluded and fairly private, and she knew she would be more comfortable there than under the blinding spotlight in the center of the room. “Thank you, Morgan, for considering my privacy.”

“Sub, did I give you permission to speak?”

His low voice sent a spear of anxiety directly to her pussy.
Here we go. This is it. I hope I can handle it
. “I beg your pardon, Sir.”

“Silence. One more breach of protocol, and you will earn a punishment. I will let you know when I want to hear your voice, sub. I know you are used to being the Domme, but now you are my sub, and I will control the situation.”

His black eyes shone out of the mask, and she quailed for a moment as fear bubbled up from her belly. She quashed it. He was already attempting to assert his dominion over her. His Dom aura was intimidating, but she was not really afraid of him. She was determined to give this a real try. It was too important to her future with Morgan, or any other man for that matter, to give it less than her all.
When did I decide I want a future with Morgan?
That thought must have been lurking in the back of her head for some time now. She had just not acknowledged it to herself. She knew in her heart that Morgan had the potential to be everything to her, and she wanted the chance to make it work.

“Strip and assume the position.” He directed her toward the floor in front of the cross. She slipped out of the short, black latex dress with the crisscross straps across the chest and back, hung it in the armoire near the door, and knelt in front of him with her knees spread and her hands resting on top of her thighs. She forgot to lower her eyes, and he reached down and swatted her butt. “Eyes, sub.”

The swat was sharp, and she involuntarily yelped. “Ouch, that stung!” She hadn’t meant to let the exclamation slip out, and she looked up at him in horror. He reached down and delivered another smarting smack on her bare butt, his stern expression daring her to say something else. She quickly lowered her eyes. She knew she would have corrected a sub of her own, but she was still a little shocked at the swiftness of his retribution.
This is serious. I’d better pay attention
.

He looked down at her. His anger was immediate but fleeting, and she could tell by his expression that his displeasure had already passed. “On the step of the Cross, sub.” She rose, not quite as gracefully as she would have liked, went over to the cross, and mounted the hydraulic step. He came up close behind her. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. He ran his hands up each of her arms, competently fastened the cuffs, and carefully checked that they did not chafe her skin and weren’t too tight. He then repeated the procedure with the ankle cuffs before he adjusted the height of the step. She felt very vulnerable and more than a little embarrassed. Here she was, buck-naked in front of strangers, and she wasn’t comfortable with it.
That’s why I’m a Domme, damn it
. Thank goodness no one seemed to be paying too much attention to them—except for that crewman in the back corner. If he started to salivate, she was going to call this off. What was his problem? Surely he had seen his share of scenes on board. The BDSM theme was the purpose of the cruise after all.

Morgan ran his hands up and down her back and over her butt, massaging the tight muscles until she began to relax under his touch. His big, strong, warm hands felt wonderful on her skin. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Relax, sub. Put yourself in my hands. I’ll take care of you. Your pleasure and pain are mine to give, and your mind is mine to know.”

She didn’t know if she should respond or not. He might just be talking to relax her, and not be requiring a response. She decided to err on the side of caution and keep quiet.

“See, sub? You’re learning. I will ask for a response when I want you to talk.”

Whew! Thank goodness I kept my mouth shut
. She had to be on top of her game here. With her butt in such a tempting position, she would rather not incur her Master’s wrath.
My Master? Oh, no. He hasn’t earned that yet
.

* * * *

Morgan took a deep breath. He hoped he was doing the right thing. He didn’t want to make Harper’s problems worse by making her relive them, but if there was a possibility to help her heal, he wanted to do all he could. He already knew that she was going to be very important to him. Maybe the most important. It was too soon to tell. They had already made some progress in bed, but he knew her problems ran deeper than could be solved by a little fuck therapy. If she would let him shoulder the burden, even for the length of a scene, maybe she could begin to dig out from under the emotional pain, so that she would be able to see a break in the clouds. He hated to think of what she had suffered for so long—the violation and betrayal, the insecurities, and the lost opportunities for meaningful relationships, both in the BDSM world and the vanilla world. It was all very sad, and the blame should be laid where it belonged—on her abusers, not the slender shoulders of a vulnerable girl. He knew it was too late to punish them now, although he wished he could.

He moved in very close to her ear and said very quietly, “Okay, sub. You are going to tell your Master what happened to you when you were little that has made you so distrustful of people. I want to know all the details.”

“No, Morgan. I can’t talk about it, especially not here.”

“Sub, we are in a scene. You will call me Sir or Master. You agreed to participate in this exercise. Are you disobeying your Master? I’ll give you one more chance to obey. No one can hear you but me.”