by G. C. Scott
‘Now close your legs and open your mouth,’ Harriet told her rather inelegantly. ‘Let’s eat our lunch.’
Victoria, however, only picked at her food. It was an interesting study in the relative strengths of two primary drives, and the sex drive appeared to be winning.
They ate in silence for a while, Harriet watching Victoria and the waiter watching both of them. Then Harriet commanded Victoria to use her hand to stimulate herself. After only the briefest hesitation she did as she was told. Her hand disappeared beneath the table and the unmistakable signs of sexual arousal soon appeared in her face. Her reticence was in inverse proportion to her excitement. Or maybe her reticence was simply a necessary part of the excitement. Harriet knew that Victoria liked to be told what to do, as did most of her clients. Where would I be without the submissives of the world? she thought. Working for a living, she answered herself.
Victoria was concentrating so hard on what she was doing to herself that she had stopped eating. Harriet watched with interest as she began to breathe rapidly. ‘Tell me what you’re doing to yourself,’ Harriet said abruptly. ‘And do try to eat a bit. This is a restaurant, and people will notice if you leave your food. You don’t want to make a spectacle of yourself.’
Victoria was looking intent. Talking must have been rather low on her list of priorities, but at length she said, ‘I’m touching myself.’
‘Where? How?’ Harriet asked. ‘Be specific. Didn’t they teach you about the importance of narrative detail in your literature and writing classes?’
‘My cunt, then! Outside. The inside’s full of cucumber so I can’t get at it.’
‘Indeed? And however did you get a cucumber into such an unusual place?’
Victoria didn’t make the obvious answer. ‘And I’m going to come in a moment, unless you let me stop,’ she said with an edge of helpless desperation in her voice. ‘Right here in public,’ she added. Her voice shook and her face was flushed. Every time she drew in a deep ragged breath she wriggled her shoulders and breasts, no doubt feeling the little needles sewn into her bra.
‘Well, there isn’t any harm in that so long as you can be ladylike about it. If you shout about it, the rest will be wanting some too. But tell me,’ Harriet asked disingenuously, ‘does it really feel all that good? I don’t have much experience with kinky sex and masochism.’
‘You know damn well how it feels,’ Victoria hissed as she bent forward in her seat. Her breasts touched the edge of the table, and she gasped at the contact. Her plea to be allowed to stop was less than sincere.
‘You can stop now, Victoria,’ Harriet ordered her quietly.
Victoria paid her no attention.
Sternly, Harriet said, ‘Stop. Now.’ She touched Victoria’s foot under the table with her shoe to emphasise the point.
‘But I’m almost there!’ Victoria wailed.
‘I can see that for myself, thank you very much. That’s why I want you to stop. Both hands on the table, please.’
Reluctantly Victoria brought her hands into view and sat up straight in her chair. She looked quite appealing in her dishevelled state. Her hair had begun to cling damply to her cheeks and forehead and her clothing had been ever so slightly disarranged by her exertions. But the real giveaway was her breathing. Her breasts were rising and falling quite alarmingly as she struggled to catch her breath without being obvious about it. She looked distractedly around the room, as if she were seeing it for the first time. When she saw the waiter looking at her she went red in the face once more and looked quickly away.
‘Now, Vicky,’ Harriet remonstrated, ‘that’s no way to treat someone I’ve invited round for an afternoon’s frolic. You really must try to remember your manners. Smile at him.’
Victoria’s expression resembled a grimace rather than a smile, but Harriet let it go.
‘Eat your food,’ Harriet told her as she raised a forkful of salad to her mouth. She watched as Victoria followed suit with a hand that shook slightly. After a few minutes Harriet leant over the table and told Victoria, ‘Now, I want to see you eat and masturbate at the same time. If you do well I might even let you finish yourself off, but be careful not to be too obvious. One must preserve a certain decorum in public.’ She settled back to watch.
Victoria’s hand moved swiftly under the table. She was careful to keep eating with her free hand, but she soon looked like someone with her attention elsewhere. Her breath grew ragged and once or twice her shoulders quivered, but it was plain that she was trying to restrain the more public manifestations of her arousal. It was equally plain that she was aroused by the public nature of the occasion. The conversation suffered a lapse, and Harriet had to remind herself to eat and try to act natural. If she found the act difficult, Victoria must have found it well-nigh impossible. She whimpered softly, losing control.
Harriet wished she could see what Victoria was doing to herself, but it wouldn’t do to look under the table. ‘Tell me what you’re doing,’ she ordered – the next best thing, and maybe it would be good discipline for Victoria.
‘I’m rubbing my clitoris,’ Victoria said, ‘if you must know.’
‘I must,’ Harriet replied. ‘Do go on.’
‘With what? Rubbing, or talking about it?’
‘Both, please. I’m sitting over here bored rigid while you’re having all the fun. I’d like you to share it with me.’ Harriet’s tone held an edge of steel.
Victoria opened her mouth as if to speak but instead let out a tiny strangled scream. Harriet, looking at her red face, had no doubt that she had had an orgasm. Then she promptly went on to have another. Her free hand now gripped the edge of the table as if to save herself from falling, and her breasts were heaving as she drew in great sawing breaths. As she imagined what the little needles in Victoria’s bra were doing to her breasts, Harriet found her own breath coming a bit faster too. Across the room the waiter was watching the tableau, and several of the diners were looking their way, obviously wondering what the fuss was all about. Victoria was past caring about that. She was too deeply immersed in what was happening between her legs.
‘Use the cucumber, Victoria,’ Harriet ordered. Victoria looked up and Harriet could see her glazed eyes. She wondered if her words had got through, but then Victoria abruptly shifted her hand and Harriet guessed she was manipulating the cucumber inside herself. Victoria’s mouth was open slightly and she moaned softly as she worked at her next orgasm. She was still holding on to the edge of the table, and the waiter was looking intent. Harriet imagined he was thinking about later: if Victoria was doing herself in public with such enthusiasm, what might she do in private? Harriet started wondering about the waiter. He looked sexy, and she found herself making plans involving him and herself. She realised again that she hadn’t had nearly enough sex lately. Tom had whetted her appetite – but it would be nice to be able to let him know that she wasn’t depending on him alone. It might help to keep him in his place.
But Victoria was the immediate concern. She was having trouble keeping her condition to herself, and Harriet noticed that more people were looking at them. Victoria enjoyed that sort of thing, but it could easily get out of hand and get them noticed by the wrong people – the police, for instance. There was probably a law against what Victoria was doing – the Public Orgasm Act, 1847, or the Misuse of Vegetables Act, 1883. Harriet had to reassert control.
‘You can stop now, Vicky.’
Victoria didn’t hear her, or was enjoying things too much to be reined in so easily. Harriet kicked her sharply to get her attention and repeated the order. ‘Hands on the table – both of them!’ Victoria heard the edge in her voice and reluctantly brought her hands together on the table. She was breathing heavily and it took some time for her eyes to focus on her surroundings. ‘That’s better,’ Harriet said approvingly. ‘You’ve got to save something up for later. We’ve got lots of time for more fun this afternoon. I’m going to call for the bill in a moment, so you need to retrieve the cucumber n
ow.’
Victoria obediently reached under the table and came up with the vegetable after a short struggle. She laid it beside her plate. After a moment she covered it with her napkin.
‘Was it all the way in?’ Harriet asked curiously.
‘Yes, but I tried to be ladylike about it. I didn’t want everyone to know what I was doing.’
‘You didn’t seem to mind about that earlier on,’ Harriet reminded her. Victoria didn’t reply. Harriet beckoned the waiter over and asked for the bill. She noticed that he was having trouble concealing his erection again. So he was both interested and observant, not to mention randy.
Before she paid the bill, Harriet scribbled her address on the back of it and reminded him to visit later. ‘And you might want to take the cucumber back and use it for some other lucky customer. Waste not, want not. But be sure to rinse it thoroughly.’
To Victoria she said, ‘Come to the ladies room with me.’
Victoria knew better than to argue. She got up and followed Harriet to the toilets. Once inside Harriet crowded Victoria into a cubicle and wedged herself in behind her.
Victoria was worried. ‘What if someone sees us both in here?’
Harriet’s retort was less than sympathetic. ‘They’ll just think we’re having lesbian sex. If you’re so worried about what Mrs Grundy might think, stand on the toilet so there’s only one pair of feet to be seen. And do be quiet.’ As she spoke Harriet rummaged through her handbag, obviously in search of something. It turned out to be a dildo. From the expression on Victoria’s face she could tell that she considered it to be rather a large one. But she seemed more interested than afraid.
‘Lift your skirt, Victoria,’ Harriet ordered her.
Victoria obediently raised the tweed skirt to her hips. ‘Are you going to do me here?’ she asked with a slight quaver in her voice.
‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I have something else in mind. Spread your legs just a bit more. Ah. That’s it.’ Harriet thrust the dildo slowly into Victoria’s sex. When it was fully home, she told Victoria to clamp down on it, so that it stayed in place when she let go. Once more Harriet dug into her handbag. This time she came out with a brief panty girdle. She helped Victoria to step into it, and then worked it up her legs and into place. It fitted her tightly. Her suspenders emerged from the leg openings and reached down to her stocking tops in a most erotic manner.
‘That will keep things in their proper place,’ she told Victoria. ‘It wouldn’t do to have that great thing fall out into the street for everyone to see. Modesty above all things. This way, it will be our own little secret. You do like secrets, don’t you?’
By way of reply Victoria shivered slightly and let out a little ‘ummmmh’, which could have been agreement or just a sigh of pleasure. She lowered her skirt as Harriet turned to let them out of the cubicle. Another woman entering at the same moment gave them a very queer look, but Harriet paid her no attention. Victoria blushed and looked away as she was led out with her elbow firmly in Harriet’s grasp.
The two women left the restaurant and went to the bus stop. Harriet considered and then rejected the idea of making Victoria wait longer by going shopping. It might be interesting to watch her restraining herself in public all afternoon, but that would take up too much time. Besides, Rachel was waiting.
All through the bus ride home Harriet was conscious of Victoria’s little squirmings and shiftings on the seat. At one point she raised her hand to her breasts, stopping just before she touched herself when she remembered they were in public. Harriet imagined her nipples were erect and in contact with the sharp prickers sewn into her bra. Her obvious agitation made Harriet smile to herself.
They got off and walked the short distance to Harriet’s house. Victoria was becoming more flushed in the face as she felt the dildo shifting inside her, and she was breathing raggedly by the time Harriet let them into the house. As Harriet closed the door Victoria gave a loud gasp. Harriet looked at her just in time to see her swaying on her feet. Victoria staggered over to the hall table and held on to the edge as if she were afraid of falling. She made a strangled squealing sound as she surrendered to the orgasm she had been suppressing all the way home. Her knees buckled suddenly, and for a moment Harriet thought she would fall down. But Victoria held on and remained on her feet.
Harriet finished locking the door, before taking a riding crop from the umbrella stand. Placing herself behind Victoria, she struck her squarely across the bottom. The force of the blow drove the breath from Victoria’s lungs in a hoarse groan which was definitely not a sign of pain. Victoria bent over the table, resting her vulva against the edge and thrusting her bottom into the air. She shifted her grip so that she was holding on to the far edge. In that position she ground herself against the edge of the table, shuddering and groaning.
Harriet lifted Victoria’s skirt above her wildly gyrating hips before resuming with the riding crop. She lashed Victoria’s bottom and the backs of her thighs methodically while the other woman moaned and shuddered, lost to everything except her climaxes. It seemed as if Harriet was beating them out of her with the crop. This was the sort of thing that aroused her most quickly, and it was why she kept coming back to Harriet, who knew best how to administer the treatment.
The series of orgasms went on until Victoria was forced to let go of the table. She slid down until she was kneeling on the floor. Her skirt was still hiked around her hips and her face was wet with sweat and tears. Slowly she collapsed further, drawing herself into a heap on the floor. Harriet stood over her, panting lightly from her efforts. She too was flushed, and the rapid rise and fall of her breasts made her look most desirable. But there was no one there to appreciate how she looked.
Gradually Victoria’s shudders ceased. She raised herself until she could sit with her back against the wall. Harriet wondered how she could bear to sit on her bottom so soon after the beating she had just received, but Victoria didn’t seem to mind. She seemed to thrive on pain.
At length she said, ‘God, it seems I’ve been waiting for that for ages. You do know how to draw things out. Help me get up, please.’ She held up her hand to Harriet.
Harriet helped her get to her feet, steering her towards the basement. She had planned on taking Victoria straight to the cellar as soon as they got home because Rachel was still waiting upstairs, but she hadn’t been able to deny Victoria when she saw how urgent her need had become.
Victoria noticed where they were heading, and she knew from experience what was waiting for her down those stairs. With a slight tremor in her voice Victoria said, ‘I see this is going to be a heavy session.’ She didn’t look frightened however, but still excited. She watched as Harriet unlocked the door leading to her basement workshop.
Harriet was thinking that she had better get upstairs as quickly as possible to release Rachel. She imagined that the young woman would be wanting to go to the toilet rather badly by now. Victoria could wait for a bit.
‘Go on down,’ she commanded. ‘Take off everything except your stockings and suspenders and your bra. You know where everything is. I’ll be along in a minute.’ She locked the door behind Victoria. Even if the other woman didn’t do as she was told, she still couldn’t escape. And she knew that Harriet took a dim view of people who didn’t do as they were told.
Harriet hung up her coat and went upstairs. She peered at Rachel through the two-way mirror in her bedroom, but she was much as she had been several hours ago. The disordered bedspread suggested that she had been moving about quite a bit, but she was still securely bound in her straitjacket. She looked as if she could wait for a few more minutes.
Harriet went quietly back down the stairs and unlocked the cellar door. Victoria was standing in the centre of the basement workshop admiring the collection of handcuffs, ropes, whips and gags in the cupboards. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. She was clearly excited by what she knew was coming. She had followed Harriet’s instructions and was wearing nothing but
her stockings and suspenders and the leather bra. Her legs looked stunning, Harriet noted with a twinge of envy, and her stockings gave off glossy highlights as she turned to face Harriet. The bra flattered Victoria’s breasts while allowing her to suffer for it.
Harriet said nothing, collecting rope from her store in a businesslike manner and summoning Victoria to her side with a gesture. She tied Victoria’s wrists securely in front of her and then led her over to one of several hooks that were fixed in the ceiling. Taking the rope’s end that trailed downward, Harriet tied it to Victoria’s wrists. Victoria was flushed with excitement, her breasts heaving and her breathing deep and shuddery. Harriet pulled on the rope, hoisting Victoria’s arms above her head. She tied the rope off when Victoria was stretched tautly, leaving her feet solidly on the floor. She stood for a moment admiring her handiwork.
‘There’s something starkly beautiful about a naked woman strung up and in the grip of sexual tension,’ she observed to no one in particular. To Victoria she said, ‘Aren’t you glad I didn’t let you wear yourself out at the restaurant? Now you can look forward to the rest of the day’s activity. You think about that while I nip up to see how my other charge is doing.’ Victoria didn’t look worn out, but she definitely looked a bit frazzled after the wild scene in the hallway. She would be all the better for a short rest.
Upstairs, Harriet went into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee. She collected the coffee cups from the table and piled them in the sink for Victoria to do later. She knew that Victoria enjoyed doing the housework in chains, and Harriet intended to give her a lot to do, as she didn’t particularly like such chores. And it would fill up the time agreeably enough for both of them. Then she went up to deal with Rachel.
She unlocked the door to the guest room and went in as quietly as possible. The effect when she touched Rachel’s shoulder was electric. The young woman laced inside the leather straitjacket jerked wildly and let out a small scream as she woke up. She tried to move away but couldn’t.