Author's note:
Chapter 15 continues the story of Ezra's sister, Danielle, and follows on from chapter 12, which ends with Danielle and her fiance, Roger, going to her parents' home for their wedding.
*****
1 Australia
Danielle Goldrick and Roger Harcourt were married in a short formal ceremony at the Goldrick family estate on the coast about twenty miles north of Perth, Australia.
Sixty doting family members and close friends watched the couple make their vows under a white canopy on a hill with a view of the blue-green ocean, criss-crossed by white-tipped waves. It was a cool June day. An east wind brought the smell of the sea and lightly fluttered the ladies' dresses but was more of a relief than a nuisance.
The groom was traditionally nervous in his top hat and morning coat. The bride was radiant and beautiful in a white and cream wedding-dress with gold cross-stitching; a dress hundreds of years out-of-date and therefore timeless and perfect.
The wedding party returned to a marquee on the lawn for dinner and embarrassing speeches. Mostly embarrassing. Roger's speech touched on a solemn note when he remembered Danielle's brother, Ezra, who was necessarily absent. They drank to his health and the hope of a safe return.
After the speeches, a string band played waltzes and the racier numbers of the Nineteenth Century for those guests not too replete from a sumptuous dinner to dance. Still in her wedding dress, the bride stood up with her new husband, her father-in-law and her own father. Then she changed into a red party frock and danced with all her other male relatives, her husband's relatives, even the best man. She loved dancing and by eight o'clock, with the party in full swing, returned to claim her husband for the rest of the night.
Although Roger didn't dance very well, he knew how to hold his wife and sway in rhythm. Danielle had always meant to correct this major failing but never seemed to have the time: now she had the rest of their lives together to teach him to dance properly.
Content to hold him around the neck and gaze adoringly up at his face, Danielle let the tingling excitement and unexpected butterflies of the day gently drift away. She rejoiced in a sense of satisfaction that it went so well - not that she expected anything else, with her mother in charge.
Mariotta Goldrick, the famed society beauty and perfect hostess, a vision in a powder-blue dress and white stilettos, effortlessly ensured that no guest lacked food, conversation or a dancing-partner. She supplied her parents and older relatives with brandy and charmed two of her grand-nephews away from the bar and onto the dance-floor, to escort Roger's younger sisters. Finally she turned her attention to bride and groom.
"Come on you two," she commanded. "Eight o'clock: time for bed. Off you go."
"We're happy here, Mum," Danielle said, gazing up at Roger.
"You'll be even happier in bed. Go on. And stay there! I don't want to see either of you for three days. (You can come out tomorrow afternoon to say goodbye to everyone)," she graciously allowed.
"Well, fresh new husband," Danielle said, "are you going to stand up to your mother-in-law?"
"I don't think I dare, Darling. Your mother's very intimidating."
"Nonsense, Roger," Mariotta insisted. "I'm a lamb. Everyone knows that. And, by the way, if my daughter can walk straight or sit comfortably, I'll send you back to do it to her again properly."
Just then, Nathan Goldrick arrived with a glass of champagne for his wife.
"Really, my love," he said, "I'm sure the young people can arrange their bedroom matters for themselves."
"Bedroom matters, forsooth! My dear husband, you weren't always such a prude. Children, shall I tell you what my Lord and Master did to me on the very day we met?"
"Oh, Mother!" Danielle exclaimed, as the seasoned diplomat himself kept a diplomatic silence.
"All right," Mariotta said with determination. "I'll whisper it to my handsome new son-in-law."
She did so.
"That was not very diplomatic behaviour, Sir!" Roger said, sounding shocked.
"My dear boy," Nathan replied, "I have no idea what my flighty wife told you: she changes her stories every time she tells them. ... However, if you are minded to take Mariotta's advice, then I give you my congratulations a final time and wish you both a very good night."
He kissed his daughter on the forehead and shook hands with Roger.
Everything considered, it seemed a good idea to start their rounds of thanks and goodnights. With Mariotta in charge, however, the valedictions were short. She bustled the lovers quickly and efficiently to the secluded lodge-house, a five-minute walk from the main house, where they were spending their wedding-night.
"You'll find everything you need indoors and I'll have food and fresh linen delivered to the pantry."
"Oh, Mum!"
But Mariotta was serious. She kissed their cheeks and whispered a final instruction to Roger, then she pushed them inside and shut the door, regretting only she couldn't lock it from the outside.
In the bedroom, the newly-weds took off their shoes and sat on the edge of the bed, holding hands, breathing quickly, taking in the reality.
"We did it!" Roger said.
"We surely did. You composed yourself very well, husband."
"As did you, wife. You were beautiful, radiant, perfect."
"You were pretty handsome yourself, tuckered up like a grey penguin."
He pulled her to him and they kissed. She climbed onto his lap.
"What scandalous story did my mother tell you?" Danielle asked.
"Are you sure you want to know? Some children never recover from learning that their parents had sex."
"I think I can take it, though spare me the grisly details, if there are any."
He told her.
"Ooh! Ooh!," she pushed herself away. "Grisly details!"
"Sorry, Darling. I'll spare you the rest. ..."
She settled back into his lap.
"I've been meaning to ask this for ages," he said. "How come your father is such a successful diplomat when his wife is so deliciously indiscreet?"
"Ha! You think there's a contradiction? Dad's successful because Mum's so indiscreet. It's all an act: she reveals some trivial secret to put people at their ease and make them want to be less guarded in return."
"Very clever. It helps him, I suppose, that the diplomacy game is still heavily skewed toward men and most men fall instantly in love with Mariotta."
"Yes, that helps. It's the irresistibility gene: all the Goldrick women have it."
"I knew you had some kind of power over me. I thought it was drugs."
"Drugs are unreliable: the irresistibility gene is more certain."
"Certain enough to keep us confined to this bedroom for three days, as per your mother's orders?"
"Well, we can try, though I don't think she can stop us going for a walk outside."
"Actually, Mariotta's last piece of advice to me catered for that."
"Really? What did she say?"
"She said that, if you wanted to leave, I should tie you to the bed."
"Ooh! Well, go on then."
"Maybe I will, though you don't want to leave yet, do you?"
She immediately got up and walked to the door. He jumped up to catch her and held her but she struggled, laughing, inching toward the door. He lifted her up and placed her back on the bed. She leapt up again and ran for the door. He grabbed her again and, this time, as she struggled in his arms, he plonked her on the bed and lay on her, trapping her under him.
"Now stay put," he ordered. "Didn't you just vow to obey me?"
"Certainly not! I vowed to laugh at your jokes, even when they're not funny, and to fake an orgasm every so often just to keep you happy. I never said 'obey'."
"Not funny? When are my jokes not funny?"
She laughed and pulled him down to kiss him.
Getting into it, she turned them over to go on top and used his body to push herself up; then she sprinted for the door a third time (though slow enough to give him a good chance to catch her).
"All right," he said, his arms around her waist, pulling her back to the bed. "Mariotta's rules!"
She lay on her front on the bed, laughing hard. He knelt over her, searching for something to restrain her with. He decided on a pillow case and shook out its pillow, grabbed her arms and knotted her wrists together. With another pillow case, he tied her ankles. Then he pushed her onto her side in the middle of the bed.
"Stay there, wife, while I find something better to tie you up with."
She looked at him saying nothing, her eyes shining, an expectant hungry smile on her lips.
He pushed her blonde hair from her cheek and kissed her, then he slapped her bottom ("Ooh!" she exclaimed) and went to hunt in the drawers and cupboards for a large soft blanket, which he took to the kitchen. With a pair of scissors, he cut the blanket into strips.
It was a complex procedure, keeping Danielle still while undressing her, removing the restraints and tying her up properly. Of course she struggled, laughing and squirming, even trying to bite, giving him just enough trouble to want to gag and blindfold her.
Finally he got her in the position he wanted, spread-eagle on the bed, naked except for her white stockings and suspender-belt, her wrists and ankles tied to the corner posts, her bra loosened and pulled down her chest, releasing her big juicy tits with the pert toothsome pink nipples.
He left her there, breathing quickly, anticipating, loving her wedding night so far. Normally so independent, so much in control, she relished giving up power to her new husband, longing for him to take possession. The soft blanket strip covering her eyes, another strip gagging her mouth, made her concentrate on her predicament. She took shallow breaths and tried not to relax.
Roger stripped and lay on her. He started on her neck, kissing, flicking her throat with his tongue, taking small nibbles, working down to her shoulders. She enjoyed it too much to put up any resistance at first, but she began squirming again, just for show. She was already aroused and beginning to ache for his cock in her.
