Agony Aunt

by G. C. Scott

  ‘You are too good to give up,’ she said. ‘I plan to visit you in London after things are settled between you and Harriet. And I expect you to come back here often. You are not to worry about Harriet. I almost forgot to tell you, but late yesterday I got a call from a woman in London. She said her name was Victoria Mason, and did I know where you were? I told her you were out of contact but that I would give you a message as soon as you called.

  ‘Anyway, Victoria wanted you to know that she has been talking to Harriet and that you are missed at home. Harriet, she says, has admitted to her that she wants you to come back, but can’t yet bring herself to make the same admission to you. Victoria says she is working on Harriet – telling her not to be so set in her ways. And I have told her much the same thing. Between the two of us we women will fix things with Harriet. So you are not to worry. Instead, I will show you how the rings work, so that when you get home you will be ready for Harriet. And, I think, she will be ready for you.’

  Katrina got the rings and took them to the bed. The locking ring was in two halves, exactly as Katrina’s nipple rings had been before they were inserted and closed, and it worked in the same way. She held them by the solid ring for Tom to see. ‘The open ring locks around the loose skin of your scrotum. You must be sure the balls are down at the bottom of the sac – like this.’ She grasped his scrotum and squeezed the balls into the desired place. Katrina fitted the open ring around the loose skin of the scrotum. ‘Hold the balls down here for me,’ she told Tom. ‘I will need both hands for this.’

  He held his testes in one hand, stretching the sac downward so that Katrina had as much room as possible to work in. She aligned the two halves of the ring and pushed them together. They locked with a small click which was barely audible, but when Katrina pulled on them, the two halves could not be separated.

  ‘See,’ she said with an impish grin. ‘Now you are locked in. The ring is too small to slip off over the two balls. They will hold it in place. The only way to remove it now is to cut it off – like my own rings.’ She touched her nipple as she spoke. ‘Please stand up now and face me.’

  Tom got up, the rings dangling below his cock, which was becoming hard. Katrina struck it sharply, as a nurse might do when a male patient gets an erection at an inopportune moment. It subsided. Tom grunted in surprise.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said briefly. ‘I did not mean to hurt you, but you must be soft for this next bit. Watch,’ she commanded. ‘The large ring is intended to slip up over the cock, like this.’ Katrina slid the ring over Tom’s cock and worked it down to the base. ‘Now you are supposed to get hard,’ she told him.

  ‘I don’t want to seem ungallant, but it doesn’t get erect on command. Even if the woman giving the order is as pretty as you are,’ he added.

  ‘I am only pretty? Not beautiful? Not . . . how do you say . . . ravished?’ She laughed. ‘Maybe for that I will not help you any more.’

  ‘You are . . . or you have been . . . ravished several times. But yes, you are ravishing. Beautiful. Superb. Is that good enough?’

  ‘I suppose that will do,’ Katrina said. As she spoke she began to caress his cock, which this time began to stiffen in her hands. When he was fully erect, she let go of him and applied her mouth to his cock, using her tongue and lips to arouse him. She stopped abruptly. ‘Now, try to slip the ring off your cock,’ she said.

  Because the two larger rings were linked by a smaller one, it was impossible to do as she had told him. After a moment he admitted to failure, his cock standing out stiffly with the ring around the base.

  ‘You can see how it works now,’ Katrina said with another smile. ‘You cannot remove the ring while you stay hard, but there will be no problem once you go flat.’

  ‘The exact word is “flaccid”,’ Tom corrected her. ‘But we won’t quibble over details.’ His voice shook slightly, and there was a familiar tightness in his chest. He looked hard at Katrina as she sat on the bed with her legs parted.

  She looked back at him, her eyes laughing. ‘We really should not waste this,’ she said, taking him in her hand and urging him to lie on the bed. ‘If you will let me get on top this time, I will show you another feature of Harriet’s gift. And I would like you to have your hands free to touch me, especially my breasts and nipples and rings. It excites me.’

  Tom lay on his back and Katrina straddled him. She placed his hands on her breasts and then guided him into herself. At once Tom was aware of the ring around his cock as it was pressed against him by her weight. She braced herself with her hands on his shoulders and her arms straight.

  ‘In a few moments I will not be able to speak well, but now I want you to know that your ring is pressing against my clitoris, and it is . . . very nice. I think Harriet too will enjoy the effect.’ Katrina’s voice was becoming high and breathy at the end, but she managed one more coherent command. ‘Now play with my nipples. I am about to come.’

  And she did, with a soft cry. Tom teased her nipples with his fingers as he cupped her breasts, and Katrina came again, her nails digging into his shoulders. He felt her pubic bone grinding against his, and she began to moan softly in her arousal. The ring was tight around his cock, and tight against Katrina’s clitoris. When Tom came Katrina cried aloud, an indrawn shriek that filled his ears. Her eyes were closed tightly and her face was expressionless, as if she was turned inward by the intensity of her orgasm.

  Slowly her stiffened arms bowed. Katrina sank down until she was lying against Tom’s chest, all her muscles loose and relaxed. She seemed to sleep, and Tom himself dozed. They lay together for a long time. He was woken by the shifting of her weight as she got up, standing beside the bed.

  ‘It is time to go,’ she told him quietly. She touched his face with her hand, lingering.

  Tom held her hand on his cheek for a moment. Then he sat up and they parted, each beginning to dress without facing the other. Despite the promises of other meetings, there was still a sadness in this parting. Dressed, they were able to look at one another, and even to smile briefly. It was hard to leave the apartment which in such a short time had become like a home to them, but eventually they found themselves on the street.

  At the central station they felt more cheerful, perhaps because of all the other people who were travelling as well. They bought their tickets, Tom a single and Katrina a return, and made their way to the platform. The train journey was smooth and all too short for both of them. Gloom threatened to overtake them, and it was only Katrina’s insistence that they would meet again soon that kept things from becoming too difficult.

  ‘In any case, I expect a report from you on how you are getting on with Harriet. You must tell me how she likes your gift – and mine. I will be over to England in about four weeks. I will see you then, and I expect to hear that things are all right on the home front. Now kiss me and go catch your flight.’

  They hugged one another outside the departure gate, and then Tom went through the customs barrier. Turning, he waved one last time. Katrina blew him a kiss and turned away to go home.

  6

  Back Home

  Once back home, Tom found the flat both musty and empty, but then he reflected that after Katrina other things were almost bound to seem dull. The ring locked around his scrotum reminded him of the recent past, and the uncertain, but equally near, future, with its decisions and confrontations. He wondered how long it would take Victoria and Katya to bring Harriet around.

  Work was . . . work, something one had to do unless the lottery numbers or the football pools turned up lucky. None the less, Tom was grateful for it, because it stopped him worrying about his love life. The evenings were bad, especially Sunday. In the middle of the second week, the telephone was still obstinately silent. But on the Thursday evening he came home to find a message on his answering machine. He listened as he poured a whisky for himself.

  ‘I would have called sooner, but I’ve been out of circulation, so to speak. I’ve spent the last week with our mutual
friend. It was both work and pleasure. You can probably guess what the pleasure was. The work consisted mainly of doing the housework you should be doing, and in persuading the householder that she should re-employ her live-in assistant. I think she’s about to crack, but she is a tough nut. We need to meet. I suggest Friday evening. Call me, please.’ Victoria sounded cheerful, as she usually did after a session with Harriet. And she sounded hopeful too.

  Tom ate a quick dinner and called the number she had left. He got the answering machine in his turn, which was especially irritating because he wanted to find out what Victoria and Harriet had been saying about him. He left a message suggesting his place at eight on Friday evening. Would Victoria call him back and confirm?

  She did, early on the Friday morning, just catching him as he got out of bed. ‘Your place. Eight-thirty for me. We girls can’t be seen to be punctual. That would wreck a habit we have taken years to form.’

  Tom shopped that evening after work, intending to make a decent meal for Victoria.

  It was closer to nine when the doorbell sounded. He hurriedly lit the candles on the table before answering the door. Victoria entered the flat like the proverbial breath of fresh air. Her hair was glistening with raindrops and she had a cheerful smile and a kiss for him. She approved of his arrangements, and told him so. ‘I hope the food – and the rest – is up to the cosy setting,’ she said. She took off her coat and Tom hung it up in the hall. ‘Since you’ve set the table, we’ll eat first and then go on to other things. We must talk at some time as well, if we’re to solve the problem of our mutual friend.’

  Victoria was dressed as if for a shopping jaunt to Oxford Street, and she had brought a large carrier bag from Selfridges which suggested she had been out spreading the wealth a bit. Her dark hair was swept back and around in a French twist, a style Tom especially liked even though it was currently out of fashion. She wore a tight-fitting one-piece dress of red velvety material and a choker of black ribbon with a cameo fastening.

  ‘You,’ Tom told her, ‘look like why the riot started.’

  Victoria gave him a brilliant smile and twirled in a circle to allow him to look at her. ‘You certainly know how to say the right things to a girl after she’s spent the day shopping and making herself look pretty. Thank you.’

  ‘I’m strongly reminded of the scene in Dr Zhivago where Julie Christie wears that sensational red dress to the assignation on the eve of the revolution.’ Tom led the way to the table, where he pulled out a chair for Victoria and seated her. He set out a platter of cheese and sliced ham. There was also a basket with crisp french bread, a jar of pickle and a salad bowl containing mixed greens. ‘I call this particular spread SAS,’ Tom told her. ‘Sandwiches and salad. Or you could call it sex after sandwiches.’ He was moving towards his own chair when Victoria stopped him.

  ‘Not so fast.’ She was opening her handbag as she spoke. She took out a pair of handcuffs and laid them on the table. ‘I pinched these from Harriet especially for tonight, and I expect you to do the right thing by your guest. You are going to handcuff me and feed me titbits while you undress me with your eyes. Then you can undress me with your hands and we can get down to the main event – unless you absolutely have to do the washing up. I will act the part of the captive maiden who is afraid that she has fallen into the hands of an evil seducer who is determined to have his wicked way with her. That will provide just the right frisson to the meal. Don’t you agree?’

  Victoria didn’t wait for his answer. Nor did Tom bother to make one. They had both been through something similar on several occasions. He picked up the handcuffs as Victoria stood up and brought her arms behind her. Moving behind her, he snapped the handcuffs around her wrists. She waited while he rearranged the chairs so that she was seated facing him. Once again he helped her to sit before bringing his chair closer to her.

  Tom made one plate for them both, setting it between him and Victoria. Before eating, Tom offered her a glass of sparkling wine. ‘Not the best champers, but a creditable if slightly aggressive spumante from Chateau Tesco just up the road.’ He held the glass for her as she leant forward to drink. Setting the glass down, he then offered her a forkful of salad. He was careful not to drop anything on her dress, knowing that the velvet would stain badly. While Victoria chewed her food, he took a second forkful of salad for himself. So they took turns until the salad was gone. The erotic overtones of the situation were exciting. Tom could feel his cock stirring as he fed his helpless guest. The ring around his scrotum was also making itself felt. Victoria betrayed her reaction by the agitated rise and fall of her breasts.

  Before making sandwiches for them, Tom paused to raise the skirt of Victoria’s dress to reveal her legs. She wore stockings and suspenders. As he raised the skirt to the tops of her thighs, he saw that she had omitted to wear pants. ‘Did you plan on sex after dinner, then?’ he asked.

  ‘What do you think?’ Victoria asked. ‘I’ve had a good teacher whose name I won’t mention, but whose initials are Harriet Jones. Someone you know as well, I think. But let’s get back to the present. Will I do?’

  Tom nodded, resting his hand on the smooth warm flesh of her thigh. He kept it there for a long time.

  ‘A girl could starve around here,’ Victoria said with a laugh.

  Tom smiled as he took his hand away and resumed feeding her. There wasn’t much more talk, both of them busy with eating and thoughts of the evening ahead. But Tom did want to know about the arrangements she had made for the night. ‘Does Bill know where you are?’ he asked.

  ‘No. He’s away for the weekend. In Amsterdam, as it happens. Should I give him your Katrina’s phone number when he calls home? Not to worry. He won’t come charging through the door, not even if he gets home ahead of schedule. We have our arrangements, just as you and Harriet have yours.’

  Tom noted her use of the present tense in speaking of Harriet, which was encouraging. When they had finished, he stacked the dishes in the sink and made coffee for them both. Victoria was still sitting at the table when he carried it into the front room. Her skirt was raised and her long legs were stretched out in full view. Tom thought they looked wonderful. Face it, he told himself, you’re an incurable leg man. And he thought of Harriet’s legs as she had paraded around the room on those evenings when he had been wearing the handcuffs.

  He helped Victoria to stand and steered her over to the sofa. He sat down and eased her down on to his lap. ‘The better to feel your tits, my dear,’ he said. ‘Or would you prefer me to lift your skirt again and ravish you straight away?’

  ‘What a choice for a shy virgin to have to make! You certainly know how to put a girl on to the horns of a dilemma. Or is that just the single horn of a dilemma I feel digging into my bottom? I think we ought to do something about that first.’ Victoria shifted on Tom’s lap as she spoke, trying to stand up. ‘I think you had better take off your clothes – or at least your trousers. Then sit back on the sofa and raise my skirt for me,’ she told him. She shrugged her shoulders in a helpless fashion to indicate she was unable to do the job herself because of her handcuffs.

  Tom stood up and removed his clothes. With his back to Victoria he brought the loose ring up and over his half-erect cock. It wasn’t easy. When he was fully erect it would be impossible. He made a mental note to do the job before he began to get hard in the future. He could feel Victoria’s questioning glance on him but she said nothing until he turned towards her.

  ‘And what is that for?’ she asked him when she saw the ring around his stiffening cock.

  ‘The better to fuck you with, my dear,’ Tom said cryptically.

  ‘Stop playing Little Red Riding Hood and tell me what you’ve been doing across the water.’

  Tom gave her much the same explanation as Katrina had given him. As he spoke of the effect on the clitoral area, he saw that he had Victoria’s interest. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was rapid and shallow. She was looking intently at his cock.

&nb
sp; ‘Sit down,’ she repeated. Her voice trembled slightly, betraying her excitement.

  He sat on the sofa and drew her closer, raising her skirt and guiding her down on to him. Victoria cooperated, lowering herself so that she straddled Tom and squirming forward until she felt him slide into her. She settled down with a sigh, making small adjustments to her position. Then she relaxed her thigh muscles and settled against him. She must have felt the pressure on her clitoris at once, because she moaned loudly and began to grind her hips against him. Tom couldn’t remember her being this aroused so soon in their lovemaking. Normally she required more foreplay to bring her to this pitch.

  Victoria came suddenly, surprising both of them with her intensity. Her mouth was slack and her eyes were closed. She sat upright in his lap and moved her hips to rub her clitoris against the cock ring. Tom held her steady as she bucked in his arms. It seemed as if she would never stop, and her ardour carried Tom along so that he came as well. He had found it impossible to hold back as she moved against him. When it was over she lay against his chest and he held her there while they each recovered.

  Eventually Victoria stirred and sat up. She looked at Tom with a rueful smile and said simply, ‘Wow. Why didn’t you think of that sooner? I know Harriet is going to love that when she discovers it. I’ll have to tell her about the it.’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ Tom said. ‘If there is going to be a reconciliation, I’d like her to be surprised. It’s kind of like a gift – Katrina’s idea.’

  ‘Her instinct was spot on. Did she have any other good ideas?’

  ‘None she told me about,’ Tom replied. He didn’t want to go into details about the weekend with Katrina just then. Victoria might think he was making invidious comparisons. Nor did he want to go into the matter of his relationship with Harriet, even though he knew they would have to discuss it soon. To do so just after their lovemaking might seem ungrateful, which he wasn’t. So he changed the subject. ‘Let me shift you on to the sofa and I’ll get us something to drink.’