Agony Aunt (12 page)

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Authors: G. C. Scott

BOOK: Agony Aunt
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Harriet thought it best not to mention what had happened to her just a few days ago in similar circumstances.
‘And then I began to try to move the dildoes in a quite deliberate way. And I came like a bomb going off. After that I don’t think I stopped for longer than it took to recover so that I could go on again. I must have drowsed off after that, because I remember waking up and realising that I was tied up in a strange place. The idea excited me all over again. I began jerking myself about rather wildly on the bed; struggling really. Once I almost rolled off on to the floor and it happened again. It went on and on. I remember screaming a lot – something I don’t normally do. After that I thought you would come and let me go. But of course you weren’t here. No one was here. I began to imagine that I had been abducted and left a prisoner in a remote deserted house, and that excited me too. I lost count of how often I came, but it must have been a lot, because now I feel all washed out. And at the end I was
still
helpless. When you came back I was dozing off again. I knew I was all sweaty and sticky inside the straitjacket, but I was too tired to care about that. I felt worn to a frazzle.’
‘But a happy frazzle, I’m glad to see.’ Harriet smiled at Rachel and she smiled back.
‘Just before I drifted off for the last time it crossed my mind that you might not come back, and then nobody would find me, and I’d be helpless. And . . .’ Rachel hesitated, then rushed on. ‘And that turned me on too. I can’t think of anything about the whole experience that didn’t excite me. I think I’m hooked.’ Then the animation left her face as she had another thought. ‘I don’t know if I can make Jeff see any of this, and I do so want him to do the same thing to me. I mean, I enjoyed this evening, but now I have to work out what to do on everyday occasions when the fit takes me.’ She looked up at Harriet. ‘Do you understand all this? Are there many people like me?’
Harriet nodded. ‘The answer to the first question is, I think so. I don’t know exactly why any one person comes to like the experience of sexual bondage. I suppose there are as many reasons or combinations of reasons as there are people who come to me and the thousands of others like me. But as they say, so many people can’t be wrong. And that answers your second question as well.’
Rachel looked relieved. ‘I didn’t think I could tell this to anyone, but I’ve been going on and on to you. It’s like talking to an agony aunt – someone you think can help, even if the help consists only in listening without sermonising.’
‘I’m glad you liked it,’ Harriet said. ‘Think of it as a new way to enjoy sex.’
‘Only . . .’
‘Yes?’ Harriet encouraged her.
‘Only there’s Jeff. I wish he could get into bondage. I mean, I enjoy sex with him enormously, but I want him to do that to me.’
‘Have you talked to him about this? He may not be a mind reader. So few men are. Sometimes they have to be led.’
‘No. I haven’t said anything directly. But he knows about the straitjacket. I kind of left it where he couldn’t help finding it. But he never said anything.’
‘Tell him,’ Harriet advised. ‘Explain how much you like the idea of sex with bondage. If he’s understanding he’ll help you.’ Then, aware that she was indeed coming across as an agony aunt, she added, ‘If he doesn’t understand, maybe you need to find someone who does.’
Rachel looked as if she didn’t like that idea much. ‘I guess I . . . we . . . need to talk. I don’t want to miss out on this now that I know how much I like it.’ There was another embarrassed pause, then Rachel continued, ‘How . . . how much do I owe you? I’d like to do the right thing.’
Harriet smiled. ‘Don’t worry. Pay me what you think it was worth. I didn’t do all that much actual work. All I did was put you into your straitjacket and leave you to get on with it. I didn’t even have to be here most of the time. And while you were tied up alone in the empty house I was having lunch with another of my regulars. I brought her back here afterwards and left her in the cellar to work things out for herself while I came up to release you. So you see I didn’t lose all that much time.’
Rachel was alarmed at Harriet’s admission. ‘Do you mean there’s another person here in the house now? I thought I heard some noises earlier on, but I couldn’t think who or what it might be. Was that her?’
‘Yes, it must have been,’ Harriet admitted. ‘She’s tied up in the cellar waiting for me to go back and see to her. I’ll have to do a good deal more work with her over the next few days than I did with you. So don’t feel pressured about paying.’
‘The next few days? How does she manage to keep going for so long? I mean, she has to sleep sometimes. So do you. And no one can keep coming all that time, can they?’
‘We don’t keep at it twenty-four hours a day. Nobody can do that, even if the idea seems attractive. In between times we eat and sleep and she does the housework. We talk and watch TV – you know, the ordinary things everyone does. We B&D types aren’t superhuman.’
‘But . . . what will you do . . . with her?’ Rachel asked.
‘I don’t usually discuss that with others. I wouldn’t tell her who you were or what you were doing here when I met her at the restaurant.’
‘You told her I was here?’ Rachel was really alarmed now.
‘No. I told her that there was another visitor, just as I’m telling you about her. But you won’t get to see her, nor did I take her to see you. If anyone wants to meet another person here, both parties have to know and agree in advance. Consenting adults and all that. Relax. You won’t be pointed out in the street as a devotee of satanic practices, nor even denounced as a pervert. About Jeff – do you think it would help if I talked to him? I don’t mind. And who knows, it might do some good. I could come round to yours, or you both could come over here. He might get some ideas from seeing what I’ve got downstairs. Think about it and let me know. You know where to find me.’
‘Jeff might go along with that. I’ll phone and let you know. But even if he doesn’t, I’ll be back,’ Rachel said. She fumbled in her purse and took out two £50 notes which she handed to Harriet.
Harriet picked up one and handed it back with a smile. ‘I like generosity, but you shouldn’t be too generous. Save the rest for other things. And whatever you decide, good luck with Jeff. Tell him I said he’s a lucky man.’
Rachel smiled at that and set her coffee cup down. ‘I’d best be off now. You’ll be hearing from me soon – one way or another.’
Harriet walked with her to the door. Outside it was bright and sunny. Rachel remarked that she thought it was much later than mid-afternoon – she had lost track of the time. Harriet nodded wisely and smiled as the younger woman began to walk towards the bus stop. At the corner Rachel turned and waved. Harriet waved back and closed the door. She went upstairs and gathered the things she had used with Rachel. As she worked she thought about what to do with Victoria. She would probably appreciate the attentions of the handsome waiter who had promised to come around after work. Or, Harriet thought, I might just save him for myself. She felt she was due a treat. It never occurred to her that the waiter might have ideas or preferences of his own. When she was done, Harriet went downstairs.
3
Victoria
Victoria was panting gently when Harriet returned after seeing Rachel out. Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly under the tight leather bra, and Harriet knew that her nipples were erect and the needles sewn into the cups were having the desired effect. She shifted her weight restlessly, tugging at the rope that held her wrists strung up tautly to the ceiling hook. There was a fine sheen of perspiration on her face and body.
‘You’re not eager or anything, are you?’ Harriet asked her.
‘Of course I am,’ Victoria gasped. ‘You knew I was looking forward to this all through that lunch, and that’s why you drew the proceedings out so long. You like to watch people squirm.’ She said this in an accusing tone.
Harriet ignored it. ‘Victoria, you know self-restraint is good for the soul. I was merely giving you a chance to practise virtue. Some people just don’t know what’s good for them.’ She moved around in front of Victoria to inspect her at close range, then touched her breast, kneading gently. Victoria obliged by growing red and flushed. When Harriet used both hands, she let out a low moan and thrust herself forward. Harriet guessed the needles against her breasts were doing their work. ‘You really do like to suffer, don’t you? Would you like me to put some itching powder inside your bra as well? Then you could spend a happy hour bringing yourself off.’
Victoria didn’t reply, but she caught her breath at Harriet’s words. Evidently the idea appealed to her.
‘Yes, I see the idea interests you. But later,’ Harriet promised her. ‘First we’ll use some external stimulation. After all, that’s why you called me, isn’t it?’
Victoria nodded. Apparently she didn’t trust herself to speak. Her gaze turned inward as Harriet continued to tease her breasts with one hand while sliding the other between her thighs. As she had expected, Victoria was already wet and parted. She drew breath in a gasp as she felt Harriet’s fingers caressing her labia and rubbing insistently at her vulva. She swayed and almost lost her balance trying to offer both her breasts and her crotch to Harriet simultaneously.
‘Easy, Vicky. There’s plenty of time,’ Harriet said softly. Changing tack, she continued, ‘No one knows you’re here, and I can do anything I want to you. You can’t escape me.’ Harriet knew that Victoria liked to imagine she had been abducted and was being held against her will. Many of Harriet’s clients harboured similar fantasies, so she reminded them that the walls were soundproof and that they were helpless in her hands. That was the truth in any case, since her clients often screamed with either pleasure or pain – she often wondered if there was a difference for them – and it was part of her job to see that none of them could escape once they had been bound.
As she spoke, Harriet thrust her finger inside Victoria, moving it gently in and out and watching while the other woman began to move her hips in rhythm with it. When Harriet brushed Victoria’s clitoris with the knuckle of her forefinger, she found it tight and slippery. Victoria groaned as she felt herself being manipulated. Her body tensed and she pulled against the rope that held her hands over her head. Her head hung between her arms and her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Harriet saw the sweat break out in her armpits and on her forehead. She twisted a hand in Victoria’s hair and pulled her head back. The bound woman’s mouth was open as she gasped and writhed under Harriet’s hands. Harriet bent forward and covered Victoria’s lips with her own, sliding her tongue deeply into her victim’s mouth.
Victoria responded, her own mouth coming alive as she cocked her head to return the kiss. She moaned as it went on and on, and as Harriet’s other hand continued to tease and knead her clitoris. She seemed to be having trouble standing. Her knees were bent and she was being held upright mainly by the ropes around her wrists. The muscles in her arms were stretched tautly as she struggled to support herself on her weakened legs. The insistent finger was now devoting itself exclusively to rubbing the hard button of her clitoris, and Victoria couldn’t hold out any longer. She came abruptly, shuddering and jerking at her bonds and moaning deep in her throat. Harriet continued her arousal, knowing that Victoria still had a long way to go.
Victoria was rapidly losing all control, becoming more and more frantic as she began a series of orgasms. She jerked wildly at the ropes and thrust her hips forward to meet Harriet’s touch. Harriet shifted the attack once more, kneeling before her and using her mouth to cover Victoria’s mons veneris, her finger moving steadily inside the other woman. Now that her mouth was free, Victoria was mewing like a kitten as the spasms shook her. Harriet had to use one hand to hold her steady as she swayed and thrust with her hips.
When she judged that the other woman had had enough, Harriet withdrew her finger and stood up. Victoria was gasping for breath and shuddering in the aftermath of her orgasms. Her legs were quivering, barely able to support her, and she was oblivious to her surroundings. Harriet left her standing while she went to fetch a riding crop. The next bit would be painful, but Victoria would be expecting it – even looking forward to it. Then, with the timing found in so many bad novels, the bell she had installed in the cellar sounded. Victoria heard it too, and she looked inquiringly at Harriet. Ignoring her, Harriet turned towards the stairs, smoothing her dress and hair. In her line of work one never knew who might come calling, and it wouldn’t do to answer the door looking mussed. Nude, maybe, but not mussed.
It was the waiter from the restaurant where they had eaten lunch.
‘I hope I’m not too early,’ he said when she recognised him. ‘I got off a bit sooner than expected.’
‘Come in,’ said Harriet, amused by his eagerness. She closed the door behind him and he looked around the entrance hall.
‘Where is your friend?’ he asked. From the tone of the question it wasn’t possible to tell whether he was relieved or disappointed to find her absent.
‘Downstairs,’ Harriet replied. ‘Come along with me.’ She didn’t want to ask his name, nor did she offer hers. If everyone remained somewhat mysterious, the evening might be more exciting all round, she decided. She led the way to the cellar door and stood aside for him to enter first, wanting to gauge his reaction to what he saw. She was pleased to see no sign of hesitation, even though she was sure he didn’t get this kind of invitation every day. Nor did he do the expected double-take when he saw Victoria strung up by her wrists in the centre of the floor. He
did
pause to examine and admire, however, walking around to view her from several angles.
Only after he had seen everything did he speak. ‘Too good for the common people,’ was his comment.
Harriet felt a slight stab of jealousy. He seemed totally engrossed with Victoria, but then she was the one who wore the fewest clothes. She toyed briefly with the idea of taking her clothes off, but in the end thought it would be too obvious.

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