Honeys After the Honeymoon - Cover

Honeys After the Honeymoon

Copyright© 2014 by LughIldanach

Chapter 9: At the Dark Lotus dungeon party

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 9: At the Dark Lotus dungeon party - Vanessa and Victor, after their honeymoon ("I left my heart, and her vibrator, in San Francisco"), continue opening their relationship and enjoying kink. Their household is a romantic polyamory rather than a harem, the members of which are valued for not just sex -- but also get all the sex they can. Being provocative, to the women of the story, is performance art to be celebrated. There's some true incidents, and characters are based on real people.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Fiction   True Story   Humor   FemaleDom   Workplace   Prostitution  

As I played with Vanessa, Caroline, Sylvette, Mike, and Jill, the rest of our group went to an area that traditionally was for people who liked to give a show, and, with appropriate respect, have strangers approach and look into participating.

Joyce, Molly Anne, Kris, and Rachel

Before coming to the dungeon, Joyce had been muttering, “If I have a Domme body, I might as well try it out.” Anytime you put extra-high heels on a woman over six feet tall, it creates an impression. Her high-fashion experience was such that she could wear a one-inch platform and a seven-inch heel. By the time one considered her hair, she looked as if she was seven feet tall.

Certainly, her legs were endless, displayed in red fishnets and red boots, below a red corset with side cutouts above her hips. Molly Anne also wore a red corset, but the two women had plotted their displays. Molly Anne’s was laced to below her belly button, and showed off her breasts, which were a bit larger than those of Joyce. Much shorter than Joyce, Molly Anne couldn’t compete on leg length.

Rachel was stunning in a purple bodysuit, its color enhancing her bright red hair, and showing off her nipples and cameltoe. She also wore thigh-high black hose, showing off skin at the top, and was graceful in six-inch strapped pumps. Molly Anne’s stockings were stay-up, but she had enhanced the look with a roll-on garter in vivid purple, matching Rachel’s outfit. Joyce also had a garter, hers a fiery orange, holding up her traditional stockings.

Joyce gestured for Molly Anne and Rachel to come close, and for Kris to ensure their privacy. An expert in swords and in the Malay martial arts called silat, Kris dropped into a guard position for the others. He wore traditional Malay dress, of a loose tunic called a baju melayu, and a sarong, called a sampin, around his hips.

“Ladies, what do we do next? Sure, I have the Domme look, but it just hit me I’m really not very up on the lifestyle. Molly Anne, you probably have a better idea on how to dominate. Hell, Rachel, you probably are the sort of experienced submissive who can guide a new Domme.

Rachel smiled. “Thank you ... ma’am.” She dropped her voice so only the other two could hear. “At this point, don’t worry about more than acting authoritative. You don’t need to flog anyone, or tie him or her up, to be dominant.

“At some point, back at home, you might want to role-play both Domme and sub with trusted friends. One of the hardest things to grasp is that in a consensual situation, it’s really the sub that’s in control -- but that subs shouldn’t top from the bottom.”

“Here, though, people are going to march up and ask that you Domme them. Turn them away unless they are courteous, and, critically, have something to offer you. If dominance and submission are about power exchange, why would you want to exchange power with someone that doesn’t have any?”

“Thanks, Rachel. Power, hmm? Thinking of that time where you put several threatening guys on the ground ... submissively of course.”

Joyce looked gratefully at her. “Thank you. Ma’am sounds right. Did you realize that Mistress makes me want to giggle?” Molly Anne nodded.

“Ma’am and ma’am -- hey, that’s one place where mistresses does work -- I’m out of sub role now. First, you two, relax. This isn’t a test. We can all have fun if you don’t think of this as more than role-playing. What could work is to role-play some, and all of us enjoy the exhibitionism of the roles. You don’t have to order me around. I’m actually more a willing service sub and I really do not like humiliation. I’m not particularly interested in bondage. Over there -- she pointed -- is a sort of stage, where we can put a couple of throne-like chairs for you two and an ottoman for me.

“You may attract the attention of others.” Rachel gestured Kris to come close. “Kris honey, I’m not in role. Will you help out if someone respectfully admires our play and seems to want to join?” He nodded emphatically.

Scarlett joined them. A little surprisingly, she wore leathers that were sexy, but actually had some relationship to an actual fighting outfit. She wore a dagger and sword.

When you want to send the very best

They noticed a man noticing them. Their first impression was that he was in Scottish garb. The second impression was that he had an incredibly fine posture. Molly Anne signaled Kris, who went to him and invited.

More things became evident. In most respects, he moved like a big cat. The one variation is that he limped slightly on his left leg. They also became aware that while he wore the Scottish knee-length stockings, complete with skean dhu dagger, he seemed to be wearing black nylons under them. Molly Anne wondered, every vibe I get is that he’s comfortably masculine. I wonder why the stockings? Fetish? Well, we can ask.

Kris brought the man to them. He bowed, and then introduced himself. “In an ideal world, someone would perform the introductions, but this poor world is not ideal. I am Douglas MacDougall, once a soldier...”

Scarlett moved to his side. “Good sir, I am Scarlett Sherman. I have also been a soldier, but of the skies, and I am known to these people. As a fellow wearer of the sword, may I ask your regiment?”

“While my injuries prevent my being active in the field, I shall never leave its traditions, or will its teachings ever leave me. Twenty-second, Madame.”

Molly Anne heard Scarlett mutter, “As Tom Clancy wrote, ‘when you care enough to send the very best.’ Thinking of writings, do not think of drawing any parallel between me and Maureen Birnbaum, Barbarian Swordsperson.”

“It is my desire to be strong in the service of a proud lady or ladies. That certainly does not mean craven submission, but more that I am complete only when I am a champion for a fair one. I’m sure that you have noticed that below my knee stockings, I wear nylons. Those are symbolic rather than erotic for me. They signal my respect for that which a woman may do to be attractive, and signal that I accept I can do no less.

Molly Anne looked simultaneously thoughtful and naughty. She gestured gracefully at her groin, and then pulled at her clothing to reveal her shaven mound. “What is worn under your kilt? Are you, perhaps, shaven as well?”

He gave a soft smile. “Nothing is worn under the kilt. It’s all in very fine working order, save a few scars. As you seem to have sensed, I, too, have shaven my ... sexy parts, again as a mark of respect.” Very deliberately, he raised his kilt, confirming what he said. The weapon revealed was as large as his dagger.

“To be serious, I don’t want to be a traditional submissive. That which intrigues me, though, is the role of a champion for a great lady. In a way, that’s a service sub, but one that must have power toward others. It also can be romantic and sensual, according to the lady’s desires.”

Molly Anne was looking intensely at Douglas. “I find that extremely attractive. Perhaps you may be the champion for myself and for Lady Joyce, my sister by another mother. May I drop out of role, Douglas?”

“Of course, my lady.”

“I find you hot as hell, and, within your scenario, I definitely want to fuck. I want to watch you play with the other women of my immediate household. Could you do that?”

“Oh, I think so. It appeals to me a great deal, to mix sensuality into the scene.”

“Indeed, Douglas. I’d enjoy telling my sub to pleasure you.” The front of his kilt twitched, but the promise was to be delayed.

Courtesy and respect are great for getting laid

A somewhat drunk voice called out, “Hey, ladies! Do you really want a guy in a skirt and nylons when there are real men around?” Female laughter backed it up. The group looked up to see six people, all quite young, in various black PVC “warrior” outfits that could be considered fetish. All seemed from the drunk side of the Force.

Rachel dropped out of submissive mode. Whispering quickly, she told the other two, “I shall serve you, but defensively. So will Kris. Remember that worthy subs are powerful.” Her face hardened as she leapt to her feet. Several people remembered her expertise at krav maga. Douglas and Kris pivoted in the direction of the voice.

Scarlett also turned; hand on sword hilt at first, but then letting her eyes twinkle. She looked over at the four women. “Are you here to gawk, to be submissive, or try to be dominant?” These two do look a little more mature than the jerks.

Enraged by Scarlett’s comment, the two men rushed at her. Rachel simply tripped one and caught the other over her shoulder. She jerked him off his feet, and inquired, in the sweetest of voices, “Shall I drop you on your head, break your arm, or will you be good?”

Two of the women ran away. The remaining two were a bit older. One had long black hair, an olive complexion, and enormous brown eyes. The other, with skin the color of chocolate milk, had well-sculpted kinky hair. She spoke first. “In retrospect, thank you. I’m Dafna. My friend is Charlene. We’re both graduate students but were visiting a fraternity house and met the two ... gentlemen.” She gestured, contempt in her hand. “We aren’t hard-core BDSM people, but we enjoy fetishes, and we’re sexually adventurous.”

Douglas moved to the one on the floor and jerked him to his feet. “Apologize to my ladies.” Kris, listening, drew a sword, but held it at a saluting position.

Joyce whispered to Molly Anne, “I’m discovering that I’m not quite ready to be a public Domme. Help me if I stumble.” She spoke more loudly. “I thank you, Douglas, Kris, and Rachel. Douglas, if you are to be our champion, you should have a token from us. She pointed to her garters, and those of Molly Anne. Do please take a garter, and feel free to use your tongue and let your fingers wander. Kris, would you like the other garters? Rachel?

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