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Authors: G. C. Scott

Agony Aunt (20 page)

BOOK: Agony Aunt
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Abruptly Tom let go of Katrina and picked up one of the switches he had brought from the bedroom. He stepped around in front of her and struck her sharply across the breasts. Katrina jerked in surprise and emitted a sharper sound that suggested pain rather than pleasure. Tom struck just the once. Then he bent to kiss the place he had struck her, using his tongue and teeth on her nipples while he slid his finger inside her to touch her clitoris again. Katrina abruptly shifted gears. She gasped, and began to moan as she had another quick, sharp climax.
Tom continued to alternate the blows and caresses, striking her now across the tops of her thighs, then on her stomach, again across the breasts. Always he returned to arousing her, weaving together the pain and pleasure until she lost all control. Katrina jerked and moaned, twisting against the rope, thrusting with her hips, as she came again and again. Tom dropped the switch and moved back to stand behind her, this time entering from behind, spreading her thighs until he could slide into her. Katrina bucked wildly, thrusting herself against him, trying to get more of him inside her.
Tom couldn’t hold back. He had been aroused by Katrina’s frenzy. When he felt himself coming he held her tightly against him, and she struggled and jerked as he pumped inside her. It felt as if his cock were buried in living fire as Katrina squeezed herself tightly around him. The spasm of her own climax swept through her and she shook like a tree in a gale.
After it was over Tom held her tightly against himself, supporting her as her legs threatened to let go. Katrina’s body was bathed in sweat and her breath rasped in her throat for a long time after her final orgasm. Then Tom withdrew from her and went to sit on the sofa, enjoying the sight of Katrina standing naked and sweating in the centre of the room. From time to time a shudder passed through her, and she moaned softly through the gag. Gradually the flush left her skin and her breathing slowed to normal.
Still Tom made no move to untie her. Katrina turned her head from side to side as if she were trying to locate him. The blindfold hid her eyes so he couldn’t see her expression, but she made muffled questioning noises through the gag. It sounded as if she were trying to call his name, but what came out was a prolonged ‘Ommmmm?’ He did not acknowledge her. Harriet had taught him the effectiveness of leaving one’s partner in suspense after lovemaking. It usually had the effect of making the next time more exciting. He was pleased to have discovered how explosively Katrina had reacted to the mixture of pain and sexual pleasure to which he had just subjected her.
The shadows shortened in the room as Tom sat admiring Katrina’s nudity. The sun rose high enough to shine through the skylight, touching her body with warm gold and shadowing the hollow of her stomach and navel. She stood quietly now.
Perhaps an hour after they had made love, Tom heard Katrina moan softly through her gag. She shifted her stance, spreading her legs as far as she could, then she seemed to hunch slightly as she emptied her bladder. The urine fell mostly on to the floor between her feet, but some of it ran down the insides of her legs.
Still not speaking, Tom went into the kitchen to search for something to clean up the puddle. He returned with a bucket of warm water, a mop and a tea towel. Standing beside Katrina, he could smell the perfume she used mingling with the odour of her urine. She was completely vulnerable now, helplessly bound and gagged, and had been forced to wet herself where she stood. Tom dipped the towel into the bucket and cleaned her legs. At the first touch Katrina jumped slightly, but then she stood quietly once more as he washed her. Finally he mopped up the puddle on the floor and went to empty the water down the toilet.
When he returned to the room he picked up the switch from the floor and took his stance behind Katrina. He drew back his arm and struck her on the under slope of her bottom, just above the gluteal fold. Katrina had tensed as she heard the sibilant hiss of the switch, and when the blow landed she jerked in pain. ‘Ahhhhhhhnnng!’ she cried, the gag muffling the sound once again. Five more times Tom struck her, lashing her bottom and the backs of her thighs, leaving light red marks on her flesh. Katrina jerked and cried out each time she was struck. Then he knelt down and kissed the weals, licking her where he had punished her.
Katrina’s cries became soft moans as his mouth moved over her bottom and thighs. When he spread her cheeks and probed at the tight rosebud of her anus, she appeared to have forgotten all about the lashing she had just endured. Her cries became eager, urging him on as he first kissed her arsehole and then penetrated it with his finger.
Tom could feel the tightness of her sphincter yielding slowly as he pushed against it, then finally relaxing and allowing his finger to slide fully inside her. With his other hand he stroked Katrina’s mons veneris, feeling it grow warm under his hand. Katrina’s hips began to move forward and backward in time with the rhythm of his thrusts and caresses, and once again she began to breath rapidly as the characteristic flush of arousal coloured her face and neck, spreading down to her breasts. Her nipples grew erect, inviting fingers or a mouth, but Tom concentrated on her arsehole and her sex. As Katrina became more excited, he could feel the wetness spreading between her legs. With his finger he tested her labia and clitoris, feeling the slickness and warmth of her. He slid two fingers into her sex, using the knuckle of his thumb to bump her clitoris.
Through the membrane separating her two passages, Tom could feel the fingers of both his hands as he thrust them alternately into her and withdrew them. Katrina rocked her hips to meet the thrusts, a high keening sound coming now from deep in her throat. When she came, Tom felt her internal muscles tensing and relaxing as the spasms shook her. He continued to arouse her, liking the feeling of power it gave him to be able to drive her over the edge of control. Katrina came several times, the onset of each climax signalled by a rise in the pitch of her moans. Women, Tom thought, are truly inexhaustible. Or at any rate some of them are. He knew he would never be able to come as often as she had already done in the same period of time.
Eventually she hung limp from her bound wrists, her body dewed with her sweat and her breath sawing in her throat. Only then did Tom relent. He helped her to stand so that she was no longer suspended from her wrists. Then he untied the free end of the rope and let her down, assisting her to the sofa and seating her. Katrina lay with her head leaning against the back of the sofa and her legs thrust straight out before her. She looked exhausted. Tom marvelled that she hadn’t collapsed before this. He bent to remove her gag and blindfold, then he untied her wrists. Once again there were red marks where the ropes had chafed her, deeper and redder than the ones that had marked her earlier. He rubbed them gently while she recovered.
Katrina sat up and gave him a wan smile. ‘I don’t know why you got the idea of beating me, but I came like a bomb. Do you think I will become one of your English masochists?’ she asked rhetorically. She didn’t seem worried by that possibility.
‘I noticed a certain, er, augmented response from you,’ Tom replied. ‘But there’s no hope of your being admitted to the English Society of Journeymen Masochists. They have a strong union and they require years of apprenticeship before they even let you have your first orgasm. Glad you liked it, anyway. I was a bit worried about you after the last bit.’
‘No need to worry. I am young and strong. And, as you would say, randy.’
‘Yes, I noticed all those things, but you
did
look a bit frazzled. I’m glad you liked it. That’s all anyone can expect.’
‘What time is it now?’ Katrina asked. ‘I lost all track of the time while you were doing me so thoroughly.’
Tom went into the kitchen and came back to announce, ‘It’s a few minutes after one o’clock.’
‘Let me rest for an hour or so, and then we can get ready to go.’ Katrina said. ‘Don’t let me fall asleep for more than an hour.’ She closed her eyes as she finished speaking.
Tom gathered up the rope and the switches and took them to the bedroom. Then he tidied the room and gathered his own clothes preparatory to showering. When he went back into the sitting room Katrina appeared to be asleep. He woke her gently. ‘Time to get ready. You have time for a quick shower if you want it.’
The Dutch woman stretched luxuriously. ‘It’s amazing how refreshing uninhibited sex can be. But you are right about the shower. Choose something for me to wear while I get cleaned up.’
When she emerged from the shower Katrina looked refreshed, and she donned the dress he had selected from her bag without comment. She wore it without a brassiere. Then came stockings and suspenders, but no pants. Tom approved. She was a woman any man would be proud to be seen with. And she was with him.
They went back down the long narrow stairs and out into the street. Katrina led him through the warren of streets and alleys, each apparently a small community in itself, with shops and tall narrow houses, some with rooms to rent. Katrina explained that
kammer te huur
meant, in this quarter, a place to take your girlfriend, or anyone else you fancied.
‘I fancy you,’ Tom said. ‘Shall we take a room?’
Katrina smiled. ‘I am glad you do. But we have a whole house. And I have an appointment with Torquemada just over the next bridge. Wait until later. If you can.’
When they reached the shop, Katrina walked straight in while Tom felt furtive. Another difference between the Dutch and the English, he told himself as he followed her. Back home this sort of place would have had boarded-up windows and warnings about explicit sexual material on the other side of the closed door. Inside, Katrina smiled at the woman behind the counter and she gave her name. The young receptionist consulted a book, and informed her that Katrina Roos did indeed have an appointment, and would she care to have a seat while final arrangements were made.
Tom and Katrina sat together. She took his hand and held it tightly. Her palm was damp.
‘Nervous?’ Tom asked. ‘You don’t have to go through with it if you’re afraid.’
‘Last-minute jitters,’ Katrina told him. ‘I want to do this – for Ari, and for you, too. But I am glad you could come with me.’
‘I’d like to pay for this,’ Tom said on impulse. He felt as if he could show some of his appreciation for the weekend by making this gesture.
‘No,’ Katrina said. ‘This is Ari’s birthday present. You will just be getting a preview before he sees it.’ Her smile took away any implied reproach. ‘But I hope you will come back for a second and third viewing. Any time.’ She smiled again.
The receptionist beckoned Katrina to follow her. Katrina held on to Tom’s hand as she stood, and tugged him along behind her. The receptionist looked at him momentarily, then shrugged and led them both into the back room. It turned out that the receptionist was also the one who did the piercing. Logical, Tom thought. The shop was not exactly thronged, and the arrangement obviously cut down on the labour costs.
The room they entered was occupied mainly by a leather-topped examining table, obviously second or third hand, that served as both work space and couch. There was a cupboard against one wall, and two straight-backed chairs. There was another door leading back into the recesses of the building.
‘What exactly did you want done?’ asked the receptionist.
‘Nipple rings,’ Katrina told her. She set her handbag on the floor by the table.
The woman opened a drawer in the cupboard and withdrew a tray, setting it on the table and inviting Katrina to inspect the contents. The shallow tray contained an assortment of matching stainless steel half-rings, in several diameters and thicknesses. Katrina examined the collection, picking up one pair after another and then rejecting them. Finally she chose a set of rings about three-quarters of an inch in diameter. She turned to Tom with an inquiring look.
He took the rings from her and examined them, imagining how they would look when they were fixed in her flesh. He felt his cock stir and harden inside his trousers. The rings felt lighter than he expected. On closer examination he saw that they were hollow. And there was a series of indentations around the hollow end of each semi-circle. He couldn’t see how they would be joined.
The receptionist, noticing his incomprehension, offered an explanation. ‘There are two serrated wires of springy stainless steel. I insert one end of the wire in one end of each ring, and the spring snaps into those grooves – which are mirrored on the inside of the hollow. Then, after the piercing is done, I match the ends of the rings with the protruding wires, and snap them shut. The join is almost invisible, and causes no discomfort to the wearer. Once the rings are closed they are locked. They can’t be removed by pulling apart. If you want to take them out, you can cut them with a pair of heavy-duty side-cutting pliers. So long as you are careful, no harm will come to the wearer.’
Beside him, Katrina gave a soft sigh. Tom looked at her and saw that she too was excited. Her cheeks were flushed and there were beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. Her hand trembled slightly as she took the rings from him.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll take these. Do the doors lock?’ Katrina asked.
‘Of course. ‘You will be in private. No one wants someone bursting in here in the middle of the operation,’ the receptionist said. ‘The back door is already locked.’
‘Good,’ Katrina said. ‘I would like you to leave us alone here for a few minutes. My . . . husband will call you when I am ready for you to return.’ As she spoke she flushed again and looked sideways at Tom, silently willing him to go along with the game.
Obligingly, he kept quiet.
The receptionist shrugged in agreement and withdrew through the door leading into the front of the shop.
As she began to unbutton the top of her dress, Katrina asked Tom to lock the front door.
BOOK: Agony Aunt
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