by G. C. Scott
As he brought the bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen, Victoria spoke. ‘Can you bring a towel for me before you sit down again? I’m sopping wet between the legs after that fuck.’
Tom nodded and did as she asked, wiping her clean and dry with a tea cloth. ‘I won’t wash this,’ he said. ‘The smell will remind me of you and our passionate evening.’ Then he sat beside her and held the glass while she sipped the wine. They sat in companionable silence for some time. It was Victoria who finally broke the silence.
‘If you don’t mind letting me loose for a few minutes I’d like to take my clothes off so I can go to the loo and get ready for bed. I don’t mind sleeping in handcuffs but I’ll wrinkle my dress if I don’t take it off. It was thoughtless, I know, but I didn’t bring anything else to wear. I’m afraid I’ll have to sleep in the altogether, but you can close your eyes if that embarrasses you. And we have to talk about your Harriet before we nod off.’
‘I’ll try not to blush. But do you want to talk about the other woman just now? We can wait until tomorrow if you’re feeling tired.’
‘No. I’d like to talk while everything is fresh in my mind. I was with Harriet up until two days ago and we talked a good deal about you. At first she was reluctant to say anything. I think she was embarrassed, though that’s hard to believe about her. But in the end I got most of the story out of her. If you tell me your version, I’ll tell you what she has been saying to me. I don’t feel as if I will be violating any confidences. She never asked me not to say anything, and I got the feeling she would be glad if I talked to you. That would help her save face. I don’t think either of you wants to embarrass the other by demanding a full surrender and a return to the status quo. I think we can solve the problem before too long. Then things can get back to normal for everyone.
‘I’d like to help sort things out between you two. Harriet has always done well by me and it would be nice to do something for her. For you too, of course.’ Victoria added. ‘It may not be exactly a marriage made in heaven, but you seem to suit one another well enough. That’s rare enough these days. Katrina told me she was going to talk to Harriet as well. We’ll catch her from several angles at once.’
Tom unlocked one of the handcuffs, leaving the other dangling from Victoria’s wrist. She stretched her arms and shoulders, which did interesting things to her breasts, and then she took off her clothes, laying the dress carefully on the back of the sofa. She removed a short silky peach-coloured slip and unsnapped the matching bra. Her full round breasts sprang free, the nipples pointing slightly outward. Tom admired them while she folded the underwear with care.
‘Shall I leave the stockings and suspenders on?’ she asked him. ‘I know you have a weakness for that sort of thing.’
‘I have several sorts of weaknesses,’ Tom replied, ‘but I think I’ll leave that decision up to you. I will only say you look beautiful either way.’
‘Flattery will get you everything,’ Victoria said as she turned towards the bathroom. She didn’t remove her stockings.
Tom took the candles through into the bedroom and turned down the bed. Victoria returned as he was lighting them.
‘How romantic. You think of everything, don’t you?’ She seemed to be expressing genuine admiration. The handcuff on her wrist clinked softly as it swung to her stride. ‘If you’ll just do me up again I think we can climb into that inviting bed.’ Victoria stood quietly while he brought her arms behind her back and locked the cuff around her free wrist.
Still standing behind her, Tom reached around and cupped her breasts in his hands, weighing them and squeezing her nipples with his fingers. She leant back against his chest, letting him have his way with her. They stood that way for many minutes, then Victoria broke away with a sigh of satisfaction.
‘Mmmmm,’ she said. ‘Candlelight and handcuffs and a pair of gentle hands on my tits. You do know what pleases a girl. But if you keep that up I won’t be able to resist another fuck, and then I’ll be too tired to talk about you and Harriet. I’m strongly tempted, but this time I must be brave.’
‘Don’t feel you need do that on my account,’ Tom said with a chuckle. ‘You’re the best reason I can think of to postpone a serious discussion.’
‘No. Enough of that. First we talk, then we can see what happens afterwards. And there is always the morning. I know it’s decadent, but I like a good fuck as I wake up. It starts the day off just right.’ She sat on the side of the bed and swung her legs on to it. With her hands locked behind her back, Victoria was unable to keep her balance. She fell gently on to her side and lay waiting for Tom to get into bed and pull the covers up over them both.
He lifted the quilt and Victoria slid her legs beneath it, wriggling over to lie close to him as he lay down. Tom put an arm around her waist and drew her against him. ‘Sure you want to talk? Last chance to change your mind.’ The smooth nylon of her stockings felt electrifying as she moved her legs over against his.
‘Mmmmm,’ she said. ‘Tell me what you did when you walked in and found Harriet tied up in her bed.’
Tom told her. At several points in the story Victoria burst out laughing, as Katrina had done. His account of Harriet’s initial indignation, and of her subsequent half-hearted attempts to conceal her sexual arousal, were especially funny to her.
When he finished there was a lengthy silence, as if Victoria were trying to fit the two accounts together. Finally she spoke, ‘Just listening to the story has excited me. The real thing must have been truly exciting to Harriet. She should have done something like that a lot sooner. Stubborn, that’s what she is; set in her ways. But she really enjoyed what you did. She told me so. I think we’re more than halfway there.’
Tom touched her between the legs with his free hand. ‘You’re wet,’ he told her in mock reproof.
‘That’s because I’ve got all the things I need to make me wet myself. I’m lying next to you and I’ve got one arm around me and a hand on my cunt. You’ve just finished telling me an exciting bedtime story. I feel all securely locked up and tucked up in bed. There’s tomorrow still to come.’ She yawned. ‘It’s been a long day. Shopping always takes it out of me.’
‘And I suppose sex doesn’t?’ Tom asked.
‘No. It really puts it into me.’ Tom groaned, and she said, ‘Sorry. I never could resist a good pun. But I suppose we should get some rest. But what about you?’
‘We’ll see about me, and you, in the morning.’
‘If Harriet doesn’t let you come back, I’ll find room for you. But she will. She’d be mad not to have that kind of sex anytime she wanted it. Tomorrow – after we’ve seen about you and me, of course – I’m going back to her house to tell her she’s being foolish. Can I tell her you want to come back, too?’
Tom nodded. ‘Go ahead. Just don’t tell her I’m desperate. Everyone’s got some pride.’
‘Bugger your pride! Hers too! I’ll tell her she has to change her attitude. But don’t you ruin things by clinging to your own silly one. That’s my last word. Let’s go to sleep.’
7
Welcome Back
Harriet had just got out of the shower when the telephone rang. It was Victoria. Could she come around that afternoon? She didn’t say why. Harriet suggested tea-time. Victoria agreed, hanging up with a cheery ‘see you soon’. Harriet wondered briefly why Victoria wanted to see her again. She had been there for more than a week not that long ago, leaving tired but happy. Surely she couldn’t be coming back so soon for more. Well, she would know the answer soon enough. In the meantime there was the matter of Tom to be resolved. She had missed him, and not only because she hated doing the housework herself. She was now ready to allow him back on a trial basis while she made up her mind about the long term.
The phone rang again almost as soon as she put it down. This time it was Katrina. Harriet had expected a call from her, if only to tell her how things had gone between her and Tom. Katrina sounded cheerful, and Harriet guessed that she had
enjoyed his company. She felt a pang of jealousy. She reminded herself that she was the one who had sent Tom away under a cloud. Still, she wished he hadn’t gone to Amsterdam so quickly.
‘How about some telephone sex?’ Katrina said brightly after they had said their hellos.
‘Not today, thanks,’ Harriet said briskly. ‘I need a long rest after your last dose of long-distance erotica. What can I do for you today?’
‘It is what I have already done for you that I want to talk about. I told you what you need to do about Tom last time I called. Now I have to tell you what to do with the gift. As soon as you get it from him, go out immediately, find someone who does body piercing and have the rings fitted to your nipples. Tom will love them, as he loved mine, and so will you. Trust me. And call him. He will come as soon as you tell him to. He wants to see you again, and is worrying about what you will say. So call him and have him come over. Put him out of his misery. OK? Do I have to tell you what to do when he comes back later and sees the rings – and you?’
‘Do you have any further orders?’ Harriet asked with amusement.
‘Yes, do not be a silly cow and let him get away,’ Katrina replied promptly. ‘Call me when you have seen him and tell me all about what happened. Tot siens.’
Katrina hung up and left Harriet smiling at her headlong approach to match-making. But in a more sober mood a minute later, she realised she would have to do something similar to what Katrina had suggested – unless she really wanted to continue moping about feeling lonesome and at a loose end, as she had been for the last several days. It was decision time.
She picked up the phone, and then put it down again, frowning. What would she say? She considered her options. In the end she decided to keep it simple. Donning her old manner like a protective cloak, she dialled Tom’s number. It rang briefly, then his answering machine came on. Harriet was annoyed. She didn’t like answering machines at the best of times, and this was not one of her best times. Nevertheless, she had to go ahead while she had the momentum. When the tone came, she spoke crisply. ‘Come see me tomorrow. I trust you still have your key in case I’m not in when you get here.’
At least the terseness of the message would remind him who was in charge. She deliberately set no time for their meeting, because she planned to be out when he came around. That would give her an added advantage, she thought – provided he came. Harriet refused to think that he might not.
She pushed the uncomfortable thought aside. She had made up her mind to deal with Tom and their relationship, and so she would. In the meantime she had other things to do.
Harriet was just about to make a late breakfast when the telephone rang again. It was Rachel. Could Harriet come to visit her and Jeff as they had discussed? Rachel wanted some moral support when she told Jeff about her bondage fantasies, and wanted Harriet around to advise them. Harriet knew her advice would amount to no more than a simple ‘get on with it’, but she understood Rachel’s anxiety and her need for support at the critical time. She agreed to stop by on the coming Tuesday evening. It looked as if she was going to be busy during the next few days. Better that way, she thought. That kept the uncertainties at bay. Until these last weeks uncertainty had not been one of her problems.
Victoria arrived at 4.30, earlier than Harriet had expected.
‘Tom’s back,’ Victoria announced cheerfully as she came in. ‘Have you seen him?’
‘No,’ Harriet said shortly. She guessed that Victoria had seen him, and she felt a flare of resentment. She stifled it, assuming her customary air of command. ‘Come into the kitchen and tell me the news.’
Victoria told her everything, ending with a description of Tom’s new cock ring. From the tone of her remarks, Harriet could tell that Victoria approved of the new addition thoroughly. Harriet knew all about cock rings from a professional standpoint, but as with her sex life, she was not as au fait with the practical side of their application as she might have been.
After the account of the sexual aspect of her meeting with Tom, Victoria came to the second reason for her visit. ‘You have to get him back here without delay. He misses you, and I know you miss him.’
Harriet frowned, but Victoria was not to be deterred. ‘We’ve been over this before. You know you want to see him. Now he’s here and you have to do something. So do it.’
‘I already have,’ Harriet announced, enjoying the deflating effect of her remark on Victoria. ‘I have summoned him to an audience tomorrow, if you must know.’ Harriet smiled at the pomposity of the remark, but she was also aware of a strong need to cling to her old manner. She was conscious of standing on the brink of an abyss, knowing that she was going to throw herself over the edge shortly, yet drawing back for one last time.
Victoria acted as if she was completely unaware of the inner struggle. ‘Good. Now that we’re done with business, let’s go out for a meal. I need some nourishment after the starvation regime I endured here. And the sooner I regain a pound or two, the sooner I’ll be able to return here and let you work it off me.’
Harriet was glad to leave the subject too. ‘You’re a hopeless masochist. All right. We’ll go for a drink and a meal. Let me put on my shoes.’ A sudden thought occurred to her. ‘Do you mind if I stay at yours tonight?’ She didn’t offer any explanation, and Victoria looked sharply at her.
Clearly she would have liked an explanation, but she only said, ‘Yes, of course.’
Harriet looked relieved. ‘Thanks. I’ll just leave a few things for Tom and then we’ll be off.’
So she was not in when Tom arrived the next day. She left his chains out where he would find them, with a note, ‘Welcome back. Make yourself comfortable.’ It was signed simply, ‘H’. It was very much a Harriet note, terse and lacking any endearments. She had debated being more forthcoming, but in the end her old habits prevailed and she took refuge in the role of the mistress giving orders to a slave. She would gauge her further reaction by whether he followed instructions. She gave him plenty of time to make up his mind. And of course she was also giving herself plenty of time to try to sort out her own final responses. I’m temporising, she told herself scornfully. She had made a career out of keeping her emotions under tight control, and the old habits were her enemies now.
You’re not a schoolgirl, she reminded herself. Mature women – especially mature dominatrixes – did not step out of character by letting their slaves make love to them. Nor did they consider falling in love with their slaves. And was it love? She was more inclined to call it lust, but that didn’t make things any simpler. Looking forward to seeing him again; looking forward to making love with him; feeling an emptiness where before there had been self-sufficiency; feeling just the faintest touch of jealousy when she thought of Tom and Katrina together or Tom and Victoria in bed: did this constitute love? It was easier to think of it as the formation of a new habit. Yes, that was definitely easier. Less embarrassing.
Yet why her and not someone more obviously attractive? He had said, ‘You’re beautiful,’ but she hadn’t paid much attention to that, having trouble believing the adjective could apply to her. She knew several women whom she considered beautiful, and she was nothing like them. But might Tom not have a different concept of beauty? We all know the cliché about the eye of the beholder, she reminded herself. And he kept coming back to her despite the treatment she had meted out. Surely he could have found an easier relationship if he had looked around. But – and this was a key factor – he hadn’t looked around after she had come into his life. Maybe he really did want her.
That possibility brought her back to the original question: what would she actually do when she got back home? She forced herself to find one thing after another to delay her return, but she had no answer to the question. The one thing she didn’t attempt to deny was the warm excited feeling she had when she thought of him touching her, finding all the secret and neglected places of her body with his hands, cherishing her with his touch and making her weak in the knees with
desire, wanting to feel him inside her.
It was almost tea-time when she got home. She let herself in and locked the door from force of habit. She turned on the light in the hallway, testing the atmosphere of the house. It was quiet, but the house didn’t feel empty. She found Tom in the front room. He was sitting on the sofa in his chains. His hands were cuffed behind his back, and he had run the chain between his ankles around the leg of the coffee table so that he was in effect anchored there until she came back. Harriet was relieved to find him there, though she said nothing. It was going to be all right – business as usual.
‘How was Amsterdam?’
‘Fine,’ he replied. He didn’t volunteer any more information.
‘Katrina all right?’ Harriet was trying not to sound too inquisitive lest he think she was jealous or worried about his liaison with the young Dutch woman she had sent him to see.
‘Yes. She’s a lot happier.’
Harriet wasn’t sure she liked that idea. Was she happier with her husband and family, or happier because Tom had been to visit? Both? She wanted to know the answer, but she couldn’t ask. And Tom wasn’t saying. Was he playing with her? Trying to force her to ask? Or was he afraid of arousing her jealousy? She couldn’t bring herself to say anything directly about being glad to see him. For one thing she didn’t trust her voice not to give away too much. She noticed the ring around his scrotum with interest, but that was something else she couldn’t ask about. He sat tensely and said nothing.
But there was something she could do that would make him feel more at ease without undermining her position as mistress. He couldn’t touch her anyway, so she walked over to the sofa and kissed him lightly on the mouth. She tried to make it no more than a casual gesture, a conventional welcome home. He tried to prolong it and turn it into something more, but she drew back, watching him closely at the same time. She was relieved to see that he was getting erect. The old magic was still working.