Submission in Seattle

CHAPTER TEN

The level of trust they had in each other set the tone for their relationship, which became warmer and deeper as the months passed quickly. Their sexual activities always involved very hot, but loving, dominant/submissive play. Monica derived a great deal of satisfaction from simply serving him. Sometimes it was in small ways, like bringing him his coffee and sitting at his feet for a while. At other times, they would engage in semi-formal training where Cole would show her how to dry him after he stepped out of the shower or how to pose herself in the sexiest positions for his visual enjoyment. Above all, they were deeply in love.

It was not a complete fantasy world, however. They each had important responsibilities that demanded a great deal of their time. Their dominant/submissive relationship fulfilled some basic inner needs, but it also provided a form of escape from the daily stress of life in the business world. Monica was becoming an expert at changing roles when she left work. It was becoming quite natural to be forceful and assertive by day, submissive and loving by night. She felt a sense of balance in her life that had never existed before.

Cole became a bit wrapped up in major contract negotiations involving a new method of programming traffic computers to regulate the flow of traffic on city streets. His fee would be substantial if he could arrange the kind of terms that he was hoping for.

When the contract was signed he estimated that his planned retirement date had been moved up by at least a year. Monica had also finished a major marketing project and they felt like they needed to take a little time off. Sitting in the living room with glasses of Johannesburg Riesling, they discussed travel possibilities that could be arranged on short notice.

Considering the limited time that was available, they decided to vacation someplace within a day's drive.

"Have you ever been to Victoria?" he asked. "It's only about three hours away by ferry. We'll need to check the ferry schedules."

"I've heard a lot about it, but haven't been there myself," Monica replied. "In fact, I've never been on any of the ferries. I'd love to go there!"

The Canadian city of Victoria was isolated from the mainland on Vancouver Island and was only accessible by air or by ferry. A fleet of passenger and auto ferries plied the waters of Puget Sound to provide the vital transportation links. They made reservations for three nights at a quiet hotel in Downtown Victoria.

On Thursday, Cole removed the center seat from the minivan to provide a large empty space inside the vehicle. In the wee hours of Friday morning, they loaded their bags and drove north to Anacortes.

At 7:30 AM they parked in the waiting line at the ferry terminal. They watched from dockside as the sturdy ship maneuvered for docking. The huge hydraulic ramp was deployed from the dock to match up with the great door in the stern. The smell of salt water and the cries of the seagulls blended with the manmade odors of machinery and the sounds of automotive engines. Monica counted seventy cars and trucks racing up the ramp from the vehicle deck and stopping to wait again at the U.S. customs terminal.

When they were allowed to drive onto the ferry, Cole was pleased that the minivan had been allocated a parking place in one of the darker corners of the vehicle deck. They would have over three hours to kill while the ferry made its way through the narrow channels of the San Juan Islands before arriving at the Canadian port of Sidney.

As soon as people parked their cars, they all went upstairs to the passenger decks for coffee and sightseeing. Cole and Monica waited until the deck was deserted, then moved into the rear of the minivan. A pile of blankets and pads covered most of the floor. They undressed quickly, then got under a soft down comforter. The rocking motion of the ship indicated that they were underway and Cole pulled a set of their favorite leather wrist cuffs from under a nearby pillow.

He used the wrist restraints and some spring clips to attach Monica's hands to the base of the bench seat at the rear of the minivan's cargo compartment. Protected by the nearly black windows, he spent the next half hour seeing how close he could get Monica to coming without actually letting her climax. His favorite technique was to simply lick her clitoris until she started to wiggle her hips. Then he would stop for a while and kiss his way up her perfect tummy to her delightfully protruding nipples. The throbbing of the ship's engines easily covered her happy noises.

When he felt like he was nearing his own limit, he unfastened her restraints from the base of the seat and they moved up onto the seat itself. Cole sat down first, then ordered Monica to service him orally. Kneeling on the floor between his knees, she demonstrated a natural, but not fully developed, talent for fellatio. He had to stop in just a few minutes, as he could feel his orgasm already starting to develop.

"You're getting too good at that, my little slut girl. Come up here with me now, I have plans for you"

"Let's hurry Master, I need you inside me now!"

"Kneel on the seat with one knee on either side of me. That's right. Lower yourself onto my cock... God that feels good!"

Feeling his manhood engulfed in her soft warmth was an exquisite sensation. Before he could lose himself in this sensual bliss, he reminded her to clip her leather wrist cuffs to the hooks that he had installed along the ceiling where normal people would hang clothing.

This position placed her delectable breasts right at Cole's mouth level and provided Monica with leverage to raise and lower herself on his ironhard phallus. When she rested all her weight on him, the seat cushions were compressed and the throbbing vibration of the ferry was transmitted deep into her body. She also found that she could rub her overheated clit on Cole in a most satisfying way.

"Oh Master, that feels so good! I can feel the vibration way up inside me!"

"You may come whenever you want, my dear." He took great delight in fondling and punishing her breasts for as long as possible. With her arms extended to the corners of the minivan's roof line, her breasts were displayed in just the manner he liked. He pinched the sensitive nipples and slapped her firm globes to watch them jiggle.

The moderate pain in her mammary erogenous zones soon combined with the vibrations in her womanly core to launch the first of several massive orgasms. "I'm coming Master!" she cried out.

Cole was thankful that the sounds of her guttural screams and grunts were absorbed by the noisy environment on the ferry. He held out as long as he could, but when he discovered that the springy seat cushion would allow him to thrust and withdraw to suit his own inner rhythm, it was all over. His uncontrollable muscular exertions lifted and dropped Monica repeatedly, forcing her to climax again.

When they were able to speak again, they laughed together at the steamed up windows, then noticed that it was growing cold inside their private play chamber. Cleaning up and dressing in warm clothes, they left the minivan and went upstairs to join the other passengers.

They huddled close together at the rail as they watched the forested islands slip by, so close they could almost reach out and touch them. The clean, chill breeze soon drove them back inside for coffee and a warmer observation point inside the main cabin. Several passengers remained at the rail to watch for killer whales. Shortly before noon, they arrived at Sidney, on Vancouver Island.

Driving off the ferry, they waited in line for the Canadian Customs agents to ask the usual questions of all the drivers. The cuffs and other toys were hidden from view, since they had been warned by friends that kinky toys were sometimes confiscated at the border.

Cole had been very careful to leave his handgun at home. The Canadian government didn't even trust its own citizens with guns and they were certain to come down hard on any barbaric American who might dare to defy their laws. He noted the familiar sign he had seen before at the customs station which read "NO OFFENSIVE WEAPONS". He had once asked a customs agent what might constitute a defensive weapon, but the only answer he got was an hour long search of his vehicle. This time the only surprise was the fact that pepper spray was banned in Canada and Monica was relieved when she remembered that she had left hers in another purse. Apparently self-defense was not supposed to be an option for Canadians.

They made the half hour drive into Victoria and checked into their hotel around one in the afternoon. Although the English style shops and buildings were interesting, the usual cloudy weather made Victoria somewhat dreary looking. Monica announced, "Aren't the English supposed to be famous for their tea? I could sure use some right now."

"Funny you should mention that," Cole said, "I was just going to suggest that we have high tea." Walking a few blocks to a busy, crowded tea shop, they ordered the shop's version of high tea, which included a large plate of tiny tuna and cucumber sandwiches as well as various biscuits with jam. The tea itself was served at the perfect piping hot temperature and was brewed to the ideal intensity.

Feeling fortified and wearing their favorite walking shoes, they set out on foot to explore downtown Victoria. Monica was thrilled at the English atmosphere as they passed numerous shops selling souvenirs and imports from Mother England. That evening, they dined at a restaurant which replicated old English culture from the Shakespearean era. In the courtyard out front, there was a set of antique wooden stocks that reminded them of their kinky friends back home.

In their hotel that evening, they realized that loud sexy noises would not be appropriate, so they snuggled in the comfortable bed for a while, then happily engaged in quietly dominant and silently submissive sex. They fell asleep in each other's arms and didn't awaken until late the next morning.

They spent Saturday exploring the area by car, visiting a fort, a lighthouse and the famous British Columbia Museum next to the Parliament Building. Something about Victoria was making them terrible horny, because they returned to their hotel room and fucked like bunnies whenever they could.

They returned home on Monday, sore from too much sex. In order to be ready for work on Tuesday, Monica needed to return to her own apartment that night. "I sure wish I could stay here tonight, Howard," she whined seductively.

"I wish you could too. We're going to have to do something about that soon."