“I mean, I know what kind of people are on the boat.” I waved in their general direction. “I just not sure how it all works, you know. But, I’m open.”
“I guess you’d have to be to agree to go on a voyage on the BDSM boat.”
“That’s not what they call it do they?” I laughed.
“No, I suppose not.” He shrugged. “They also couldn’t call it a sex yacht and get people to pay what they charged.”
I laughed and snorted.
“Oh my god.” I could feel my cheeks getting red.
“You’re adorable.” He grinned down at me and gave me a wink.
“You’re funny, sir.” I nodded and turned back around.
“Ms. Simmons.” A man in a stark white uniform held his hand out and helped me onto the boat. “Welcome aboard. If you will please come with me.” He held onto my hand and guided me through automatic doors into a sitting area. A few other people were already waiting on couches arranged in a U-shape. A square coffee table sat in the middle of the room.
“Please have a seat and we’ll start with our orientation in just a few minutes.” He walked away and another steward in the same uniform came by with a tray of drinks.
“We have champagne and fresh orange juice or perhaps I can get you something else.”
I grabbed a glass of champagne and took a small sip.
“Hey.” A woman a few chairs down waved for me to join her. “I’m Camy.”
“Lucinda.” I smiled, and took a seat beside her.
She pushed her blond hair behind her ear and shifted in her seat. “Where you from?”
“Austin.” I sipped my drink. “You?”
“Seattle.” Her eyebrows arched as she studied my face. “Are you excited, nervous, or about to throw up?”
“All the above, but mostly excited.” The other people in the room—mostly women, and four men—were either talking in groups or sitting quietly sipping their drink.
A slender man in a black suit stepped through the open doors and whispered to one of the stewards. They finished delivering their drinks and then filed out of the back of the room in a line. Once the door closed behind them, the young man in black cleared his throat.
“Good afternoon.” The man straightened his coat and pushed his hair out of his face. “My name is Christopher Stevens.” With a quick motion, the suit jacket came unbuttoned and he slipped it off his shoulders. A chair scraped against the floor as Christopher pulled it from the nearby desk and lowered himself down with casual confidence. “I will be your guide, or contact.” He shrugged his shoulders. “The sub director, if you will.”
We all laughed.
“For the trip, if you have any questions, concerns or are just not feeling it, please find me and let me know.” He wore an earpiece and pulled it out of his ear before continuing. “I want to emphasize that you, ladies and gentlemen, while our designated subs on our little adventure, you are also guests and will be treated as such. You have all been given the rules of the ship and your role of submissive is reserved for scenes and any other negotiated moments. We do not expect you to be giving your submission away to anyone just because they have a D sign over their head. This is not what this trip is about.
“Think of this is more like a singles cruise, but the question ‘are you a dominant or submissive’ is already answered. You can avoid that awkward conversation.” He chuckled and we followed.
The room held a mosaic of people – women and men, of differing races and ages. Every face in the room, regardless of age or background possessed that unmistakable quality that turned heads.
“I encourage you to get to know each other and then of course, get to know the Doms and Dommes on the trip.” Christopher shifted and reached for a notebook. “Everyone has been vetted and passed security checks, but things happen. Situations arise. We are using a universal safeword system. Red for stop, yellow for slow down or if you need a minute. Green is all systems go. You’ve all participated in scenes before so none of what I’m saying should be new to you, but I’m going to say it anyway. Negotiation will start with a mediator and all scene rooms, hallways and every other open space on the yacht is monitored by security cameras. Only places that don’t have cameras are your private staterooms. You are more than welcome to invite guests or be invited by a guest into their room, and same rules apply. There are six scene rooms, and our scene stage allows for our group activities each night and can be reserved for the exhibitionists among you. The resources to protect you are available, all you have to do is ask. And, if you at any time want off the boat, a water taxi can be summoned within fifteen minutes and while the NDA still applies, you are free to leave with no explanation needed, no hard feelings. If this environment is not for you, it’s not for you.”
He skimmed the folder in his hand before closing it and looking up. “Okay, any questions?”
A brunette standing in the back raised her hand.
“Yes, Shelly?”
“You said the scene rooms have cameras, what happens to the recordings?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“The recordings are held until the end of the trip. Then they will be deleted.”
