Perhaps for her own reasons, Joanie seemed to learn slowly. Edgar was patient and always interested in improving someone else’s limited education and so the couple spent hours and hours in the stateroom, deeply committed to these educational endeavors.
To suggest that Joanie, at twenty-two, was being corrupted or taken advantage of by Edgar would have been only partly correct because, although she often expressed discomfort about Edgar’s methods, she willingly admitted that she was indeed learning a lot. Rapid and frequent applications of Edgar’s learning tools to her tits, ass and other sensitive body parts apparently served both of their needs.
At times, Edgar was certain that Joanie, like so many other bimbos he knew and fucked, was misbehaving just so she could be disciplined, however harshly. At some point in their classroom sessions, while she was tied to the heavy suspension rings overhead, to a chair or the handrails on the bathtub, Joanie, it seemed, would bait Edgar until he was forced to spank, paddle, flog or electronically punish her. On these occasions when her master’s prick was not readily available, he provided her with a poor substitute in the form of one of his many oral discipline devices. Most often these were large and larger plugs, pears, balls and faux pricks, some inflatable, some with curiously unpleasant liquid capacities and all capable of triggering Joanie’s oral receptors into a sexual response.
Very early in this shipboard romance, if you can call it that, the two discovered that for Joanie, non-consensual sex was infinitely preferable to the usual consensual kind. So, when Edgar told her as they danced in the ship’s lounge on their second date, that unless she slept with him that night he would whip her ass bloody, Joanie nearly had an orgasm on the dance floor.
“Oh my God,” she moaned into Edgar’s ear. “You can’t do that here.”
“I have the means and the intent,” Edgar whispered.
“Then I must go. Now,” Joanie said, pulling away from him and almost running out onto the deck, stopping and turning around to make sure that he was following her.
Edgar chased her easily, watching the girl in the short green dress play hide and seek as they circled the high deck and finally catching her as she leaned against a rail, trying to get her breath. From his pocket, Edgar pulled a simple Flexi cuff, a nylon cable tie, and wrapped it around her wrists, binding them tightly together with the palms facing outward. This position forced her shoulders back, thrust out her excellent and mostly uncovered breasts and made her breathe even harder.
“You can’t…” she said, trying to pull away from him.
“Too late,” Edgar whispered as he put his arm around her, pulled her Burberry wool shawl down over her pinioned wrists and hustled her up the nearby staircase to his number two stateroom. Once in the room, he pushed the unresisting redhead onto the huge bed and let her fall into the collection of pillows colorfully arranged on the top quilt. Joanie struggled slightly, allowed the tiny dress to ride well above her crotch, made indistinct whimpering cries and buried her pretty head in the pillows while Edgar put a wide leather strap around her elbows and pulled her arms back until the elbows nearly touched. Joanie gasped for air, kicking her feet until Edgar crossed her thin ankles and strapped them as well, then used another strap to bind her legs together at the knee and pulled her feet back and up, connecting them to her wrists. Joanie resisted the hogtie, but was soon almost totally immobilized, breathing heavily.
“Humm,” mused Edgar, who was also breathing hard. “What shall I do with you now?”
“I’ll scream,” Joanie breathed through clenched teeth, rolling onto her side and allowing both breasts to literally pop out of the top of her low-cut dress. “I have two brothers who play varsity football at Louisiana State and they will get you,” she added breathlessly.
“I think not,” said Edgar. He put his thumb and forefinger on her nose, squeezing the nostrils until Joanie opened her mouth. In went a normal sized, red ball gag that Edger pushed deep into her open mouth and then secured with a wide leather strap that fastened behind her head. The strap pulled her cheeks back and lodged the ball in the center of her mouth, well behind her front teeth.
“Mmmmmmmph,” Joanie burbled into the ball. “Etttt meee uhoooo.”
“Let you go? No way. I just got you. Now I’m going to fuck you silly,” said Edgar, as he helped her exposed and perfumed breasts free themselves totally from the dark green velvet dress by cutting the bodice from top to bottom and pulling away the ruined cloth, exposing her black brocade corset and thong. Her smoky black stockings were the kind that stayed up with their own elastic lace tops and they nicely accented Joanie’s lovely, narrow thighs and smoothly rounded ass.
“I’ll give you a choice, Joanie,” Edgar said as he removed his own clothing.
“Mmmmm?” was the only answer Joanie was capable of.
“Fuck or suck?”
“MMMMMMM?” louder, but still unclear.
“Okay, I’ll fuck you and you can suck me afterwards.”
“MMMMMMMMM!!!!!”
“Okay, but you had better be really good at sucking. Otherwise, harsh penalties will follow.”
“MMMMMM,” was the muted response from her mouth while the slow rotation of her hips provided a more graphic illustration of her desires and intentions
Edgar was now naked as well and pushed her over onto her back, despite Joanie’s muffled complaints about her bound arms under her. He slowly unfastened the upper leg strap and Joanie realized that he had unbound her legs so that her crossed ankles came up under her ass and her knees spread wide as the strap holding her ankles and wrists closely together forced them apart.
“How accommodating,” said Edgar, easily inserting himself between the spread and stocking-encased legs. “I hope you don’t mind, but I like girls with their stockings and shoes on, and those high heels are quite flattering, so we’ll leave them on if your don’t mind.”
“Mmmmmmmm…” repeated Joanie, trying to find a less painful position while consciously aligning her sex with his rapidly hardening prick. In an instant, Edgar was inside. No preliminaries. No foreplay other than the bondage and gagging, which seemed to bring Joanie so close to climax that the moment he penetrated her, she was writhing and moaning with more vigor than Edgar had ever encountered in his varied and extensive sex life.
The two came together with a force usually reserved for people struggling to survive some terrible physical challenge. The contest that followed was equal in terms of calories burned by running a couple of miles at top speed. In a few breathless minutes, they were exhausted; Joanie still twisting and jerking at her bonds and Edgar pulling out, totally drained, and rolling away to wonder exactly what had he gotten himself into.
Poor little, innocent babe from East Goulashes, Louisiana, huh?
Edgar thought
. This woman could teach me a few things, I imagine.
Chapter Two
Gifts
The cruise was over too soon, but based on her recent week with Nate in the penthouse, Bibi already yearned for another sea assignment. When she reached her fourth floor, rooftop apartment in what had once been the border zone of East and West Berlin, she found that she had a guest. Only two other people had keys to her flat and as soon as she unlocked the door and caught a whiff of a certain exotic and expensive perfume, she knew it was Karine Schultz, her long time friend from university. Karine greeted her with her arms wide open and a lover’s kiss on the mouth.
Even though she was happy to see her, Bibi was a bit annoyed that Karine hadn’t told her she was in Berlin and that she was coming to visit.
“What brings you here?’ was the only greeting Bibi could offer as she slowly sifted through her new mail. Distracted for a moment, she was delighted to find both a bonus check from her cruise employers and a new proposal for an extended assignment in the eastern hemisphere on a large private yacht.
“I don’t believe it,” she said aloud, suddenly remembering that Karine was standing in front of her, the bathrobe she wore fully open and disclosing the lush, teenage-like figure that Karine worked so hard to maintain.
“You don’t sound very pleased to see me,” Karine said, closing the robe and turning away. “I guess I should have called first.”
“I didn’t mean you,” Bibi said hastily. “And I AM sorry,” Bibi said. “I am tired and expected a few days of quiet. Now it looks like I’ve got another assignment.”
Karine smiled and sat down on the couch. “You want me to go?” she asked, sulkily.
“God, no. Just sit tight and have a drink or something while I pull myself together. I need to read this offer and then we can get some dinner and spend some time together. I’ve missed you, Karine. I really have,” Bibi added, trying to sooth the slightly ruffled feathers of this special woman in her life. She sat down to read the offer.
The proposal, forwarded to her by Franz Muller, one of the few agents she used and trusted, was almost too good to be true. The contract would be for not less than six months on a two hundred forty foot mega yacht sailing the Caribbean and perhaps visiting ports of both North and South America. The pay was nearly double her usual fees and all expenses were paid in a unique fashion: included with her signed agreement would be an advance payment of five thousand Euros to cover expenses and that amount was renewable as she might need it. The final bonus was a note from Franz telling her that the same proposal had been sent to her friend and associate, Jean Groff, in Amsterdam.
Realizing that she had not actually seen Jean since the night she had gone off with a charming football player on the Isosceles Deck while Bibi disappeared into the BDSM clutches of Nate, the barman, Bibi immediately telephoned Groff, got only her voice mail, and left a hurried message saying: “Call me at once, Jean. We’ve got a cruise on tap.” She put down the phone, stripped off the worn T-shirt and tight jeans and headed for the bathroom and a shower. On the way, she reached out, tapped Karine lightly on the shoulder and said, “Want to join me?”
“Of course,” was Karine’s anxious reply. The two headed for the large bathroom with its double shower, dropping a few remaining items of clothing along the way.
Bibi, now accepting Karine’s unexpected presence, got a sudden glint in her eye and as the younger woman came into the bathroom, Bibi greeted her with a pair of brilliantly polished steel manacles, snapping one cuff onto Karine’s right wrist and quickly bringing her left arm around and putting the opposite cuff on it. Surprised, but, as always, accepting, Karine purred and turned to Bibi, offering her lips once again. Bibi, always faster and more agile, popped a ruby red, rectangular sponge gag into Karine’s open mouth, pulled the bands back behind her neck and secured the gag until it was snug. Karine only purred and did not struggle.
“You come here unannounced. Get into my flat and mess up my plans for a quiet evening of rest and recuperation,” Bibi said, holding the chain linking the wrist manacles in her left hand and pushing Karine into the now streaming shower with the other. She took a common dog chain leash from the doorknob and pushed the dark-haired woman to her knees in the rainfall-like water. Again, Karine complied. Bibi wrapped the end of the dog chain around Karine’s ankles, crossed them and pulled the chain tight, then pulled the remaining chain up between the manacles and back down to the now bound ankles. Karine bent backwards at the waist with the bondage, arching her back until she was in a kneeling hogtie with her wrists well secured to her feet, the gag still in her mouth and her eyes closed to the now warm shower water.
Bibi, still not inside the shower enclosure, was about to step in when the front door buzzer sounded. She hurriedly grabbed a towel and walked out of the shower. At the front door, she pressed the answer button.
“Yes?” she said, slightly annoyed that once again her valuable personal time was being interrupted, probably by someone selling something she neither needed nor wanted.
“Universal deliveries.” It was a man’s voice with a strong Middle Eastern accent.
Persian?
Bibi thought
. This city is overflowing with Arab refugees and few of them have jobs, let alone work in delivery.
“I have package for you.”
“Leave it at the door. I can’t come down right now.”
“It needs you sign.”
“Take it back and deliver tomorrow.”
“Will send back to the original. We only try one time.”
Suddenly, Bibi remembered the contract with Groff and realized she might not be back home for quite a while. “Okay. Wait at the door, I’ll be right down.” She pulled her jeans and T-shirt back on again, took her keys and bounded down the four flights of stairs. Half way down, she remembered Karine chained in the shower. “She’ll keep, I guess,” Bibi said as she reached the lobby.
The delivery guy stood right in front of the door window, looking more like a fishing boat crewman than a deliveryman. He stared in at her through the plate glass window with a huge grin on his face. He had a full beard, dark complexion, wore a dirty, torn, fisherman’s knit sweater and black wool watch cap. Except for a hand-written stick-on card on the right side of his chest, nothing identified him as a delivery person. Warning bells went off in Bibi’s always-suspicious head. Now more cautious, she leaned forward to try to read the name tag while she talked to him through the door. “Let me see your ID,” she said.
“What?” shouted the man, his expression changing to one of annoyance.
“Your identification. I can’t read your name.”
“I am Ammad,” he said, now shouting at her through the door.
“Who is the package from,” Bibi asked.
“Hey, woman,” said the Arab with a sneer. “You no want this, I go. Take it back. You too much trouble.” He turned and started down the front steps and toward the outside door. Quickly making up her mind, Bibi unlocked and opened the door. Two men, hidden on either side of the entrance and totally invisible until the door was open, were on her in an instant. The bigger one, who was built like a TV wrestler, had a ball gag on a strap that he tried to force into her half-open mouth. The other, a slightly smaller man, also with moustache and beard, wore a leather jacket and cap, had handcuffs that he sought to clip on her wrists as she fought to get back inside. As these two men grabbed her, Bibi brought up both feet, her knees touching her chest and, kicking hard, pushed off on the delivery guy, catapulting him onto the floor of the entry area and down the steps. The force of her jackknife kick took her and the two men back inside the door.