Welcome to our next serial. A vacation cruise in eight (give or take) parts. Check back Saturdays to see what kind of trouble Mark and Ivy can get into in international waters. Catch up on Chapter 1!

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He laughed a little as he crawled over her, the familiar weight of his body pressing her down. Trapped. Hot. Safe. Right where she belonged.

“I know that look, my sloppy little slut,” he said. “I remember when just having me on you was all you could handle, but I’ve spoiled you for too long. That look is, ‘What is Master going to do today?’ And lucky for you, the answer is quite a lot.” He reached over into the toy bag, grabbing a bite gag and sliding it between her lips. “Bite down,” he ordered. “Hard.” He reached behind her head, tightening the strap so she couldn’t do much to wriggle around it.

She looked up at him, trusting him to know her, to care for her. There was no way she could say anything to him now, but she trusted that he would break her down to nothing and build her back up. It was the way they had always been, and she loved it.

Mark gently rolled her onto her stomach, exposing his favorite canvas to whatever game he wanted to play. But he was taking his time. A luxury they all too rarely had. But she was nothing but his toy for the whole week. If he never let her off the bed, she’d be overjoyed. A complete mess, but still overjoyed. And so he spent the next several minutes kissing across her back, dragging his nails over it just enough to leave light pink lines that faded almost as soon as they appeared, pausing occasionally to rub at a knot if he found one, and listen to the sounds she made through the gag. It was exquisite torture, and there was a puddle beneath her before he was through.

Ivy desperately wanted more, more touching, more pain, more anything. Mark knew all the ways to drive her crazy, but she loved it. She loved feeling helpless. And she loved feeling cared for. The way he rubbed at the knots in her back made her moan in a similar way to how she sounded when he fucked her, especially with the gag in.

Mark reached for the toy bag again, jingling the contents a bit more than necessary. She couldn’t see what he was reaching for. Really, she couldn’t see much of anything. She was stuck staring ahead at the headboard of the bed, which made the next toy seem almost redundant. He reached up, slipping the blindfold over her eyes—his favorite one, a soft blue silk that he’d chosen to match her thong. Even if there hadn’t been anything to look at before, the blackness filling her vision still sent a clench through her guts and sent her one step further into subspace for him.

Being blind and unable to speak, having those senses deprived of her, was something that turned her on immensely. The lack of control that she knew was coming was intoxicating. Her breath started to come a little bit short, and she made a little gasping sound that she knew scared Mark in the beginning, but he’d grown used to it.

Jingle jingle, he was pulling something else out of the bag. Her ears were the one sense he never denied her. As far as he was concerned, there was no more effective tool to tease her with. He grabbed her right wrist and stretched it up and out, slipping a leather cuff over it and securing it to the headboard. “Pull,” he ordered, the command practically exploding around her as he spoke low in her ear, his voice and touch basically her whole world at this point. That’s what he’d been checking for, somewhere to attach the cuffs. He’d probably checked the whole thing ahead of time. He mostly let her plan things, she was used to it, but he wasn’t above sneaking in to make changes when it suited him. She followed his command, tugging and wriggling against the bond to test it.

She knew that her wrists would be sore by the time he let her loose because he would make her writhe and scream. Hopefully, the walls were thick enough that no one came knocking to check on her.

He repeated the process on the other wrist, then moved down to her legs. For each one, he gave the same command to check that they were comfortable and secure. And then she felt the bed shift. Then nothing. She strained her hearing, but all she could hear was the sound of the ship. What the hell was he doing? Where was he?

The answer was simple. He was leaning against the wall, about three feet away from her. Not moving, not making a sound, just making her wait for the next move in his game.

Lying there, hearing nothing, she tried to slow her breathing, listening for any move, any sound, anything. The ship rocked gently, swaying her almost to sleep. But there was too much adrenaline to manage it. Too much excitement. She wanted to know what would happen next.

Finally, she heard something. A sort of rattling clinking sound. Not right for the toy bag. What the hell was he doing now? The bed rocked a little as he climbed back on, and she heard the noise again as he sat something on the shelf next to her. He crawled over her, facing opposite her head and staring down at her ass. He reached down, spreading her cheeks open and diving his tongue in, licking at her hole, moaning softly at the taste. “How does a nasty slut like you always taste so good?” he asked. Not that she could answer.

She moaned around her gag, loving the feeling of it. It sent tingles down her spine and pulsing heat to her pussy. Feeling his tongue there where she knew he would use and abuse her later was a sweet promise of what was to come.

He pulled his tongue away, and she heard another rattle and then something cold against her ass. The first ice ball, perfectly smooth and round, thanks to the deluxe ice machine in the corner of the suite, slid into her ass.

“I was thinking of having some fun with the beads, but I saw that, and I decided it’d be more fun,” he said. And then he slid in another. “There are five beads on your favorite string, and they’re about the same size as these. Think you can handle six? I gotta give you a little extra to account for them melting.”

Ivy nodded and tried to say “Yes, Sir,” which, of course, was completely muffled, but she was pretty sure Mark was able to figure it out. The reality was that he wasn’t really asking her anyway.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. That was seven. Assuming she was counting. Mark never was very good at it. He always said he thought it was more effective to have her count, but she was pretty sure it was just to cover up that he made mistakes with it when he got excited. Or he was just feeling like a bastard and had an extra ball. She didn’t really have much time to contemplate it because after a bit more rummaging in the bag, she felt the thin, silicone tip of a butt plug at her pussy lips. 

“Lube,” he ordered, slipping it into the flared base.

The cold of the ice cubes penetrated her senses more than anything else. Ivy groaned around her gag and clenched her ass around the cubes. She appreciated the fact that they were round and didn’t have sharp edges. Those could be uncomfortable in bad ways. But these were practically made for this purpose. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Mark had arranged for it specifically.

Mark pulled the plug back out and slipped it into her asshole. “And now, we leave those in there to melt,” he said. “Not quite as good as plugging you up with my piss, but it’s good to try something different every once in a while. Don’t you think, goddess?”

She murmured another, “Yes, Sir,” but they both knew she wished the liquid in her ass was his piss. She always preferred the warmth of it, plus the fact that it made her feel like the dirty fucking slut she was.

“Shame we don’t have more room,” he said, rummaging around in the bag again. “But I made sure to bring something that’d work just in case.” That something, she found out a stinging second later, was a crop. One that was perfectly adequate when swung by the wrist rather than the arm. She’d have preferred a cane or a full-length whip. And there was a good chance they were in there as well, waiting for later in the week, but until they got used to the new space, this was safer. He brought it down on her shoulder blades, leaving bright red marks in the squared-off shape of the tip. Another tease. She’d gladly take pain from him anywhere, and the marks were sure to be delightful when she saw them in the mirror later. But she never enjoyed it anywhere as much as her ass and thighs.

She tried not to squirm too much to mess up Mark’s hits, but it was difficult. She was glad the restraints held her down, but she was definitely pulling on them already. It was going to be a long night.

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