His Mistress’s Voice (6 page)

Both glanced at him and her hand strayed uncertainly to the top button of her blouse, but Tom shook his head. Through the silky cloth he could see the darker areolae. Her nipples were half erect. ‘It will get cold in here during the night. You’d better wear something. I can tuck you in before I go, but if you lose the bedclothes after that you’ll be very uncomfortable. I don’t really want to read a lurid headline on Sunday morning: beautiful redhead found dead in freezing room.’

As he picked up the rope, his eye was caught by a carving knife on the bedside table, obviously left there by Beth for this session. She had been thorough in her preparations. Tom cut the rope into convenient lengths. There were several of her headscarves ready to hand, on the table, and a tightly rolled ball made from old stockings stuffed inside one another. This was the gag, he realised.

‘Do you want to go to the loo before we start?’ Beth shook her head. ‘Lie down on the bed then.’ Beth did so. ‘On your stomach, woman. Move.’ Tom allowed his voice to roughen, almost barking at her. She quickly rolled over onto her front. He found himself slipping into the character she had outlined. It was easier for him to play the casual intruder than to retain his everyday self. Less embarrassing. ‘Hands behind your back.’ He pulled her left arm to emphasise the words. Beth brought her hands behind her and he quickly tied them together. Remembering her instructions, he was careful to keep the knots out of her fingers’ reach. He tested the ropes. Not too tight but he didn’t think she’d be able to work them loose. He tied another piece of rope around her arms just above the elbows and put a bit of tension on it. If she did get her hands free, she’d still not be able to reach that.

Tom helped her to sit up and guided her until she was sitting on the side of the bed. He tied her ankles and knees next, then raised her skirt to admire the view. Beth was wearing stockings and suspenders, and no pants. More evidence of her thoroughness. If she was trying to look like a sexy package, she was certainly doing well. Tom ran his hand up her leg and toyed with her pubic hair. Her breath caught as he stroked her, and he felt his own crotch tighten in response. He stopped abruptly, leaving Beth aroused, and gagged her. He twisted the rolled-up tights into one of the scarves and pushed it into her mouth, pulling the ends together and tying them behind her head. The silk scarf pulled her cheeks back in a grimace. Despite that Beth still managed to look desirable. Tom retained enough sense to know that he would find her desirable in almost any situation.

With one last glance at Beth, Tom walked out and left her sitting on the edge of the bed. He made a quick inspection around the flat to be sure there were no obvious fire hazards, then checked the windows and made sure the back door was locked. Satisfied, he made his way back to the living room. As he opened the front door to leave he heard the bed-springs creak and he guessed that Beth was settling herself. He was reluctant to leave, and he resisted the impulse to take one more look. He’d come back later this evening, he promised himself.

It was only early evening when he left, and he was at a loose end. He had been planning to spend the time with Beth, and now he had no other plans. Tom knew from experience that he had to find something to do with the time if he didn’t want his mind to dwell continually on Beth. He walked into the town centre with the idea of finding a restaurant or a congenial pub for his evening meal as he didn’t feel like cooking for himself. Nor did he feel like going back to his own flat, but eating out alone wasn’t much fun either. There was nothing else to do. The pub was full of strangers, and there was no reason to stay after he had finished his drink. He picked up his car outside Beth’s place, looking up at her door. The windows were dark and blank. Tom imagined her lying alone in the dark, the room lit only by the reflected glow of the street lamps, and the muted sounds of the traffic drifting in through the windows as it had done on the many past weekends they had spent together. Was she struggling to free herself? Had she somehow got loose?

Later, I’ll come back later, he thought once again. She won’t want me to come around so soon. He started the engine and drove off. The drive home was slow because of the evening traffic. It had been some time since he had been out at this time. Usually he was with Beth and they were indoors making love or getting ready to make love, or recovering so they could make love again. His life since meeting Beth had been spent largely indoors. Tom was not a true outdoorsy or sporting person, but he realised with a start that he had not ridden his bicycle or taken a walk for literally months. He had not missed these things until now, suddenly on his own at a time he had expected to be occupied. His activities had revolved around the twin poles of work and weekends with Beth. And the weekends with Beth were becoming the more important of the two. They could easily become the centre of his life. May already have done so.

Tom parked outside his flat and locked the car. There were couples strolling past on their way out for the evening. He saw no single women, and only a few men. He went inside and spread the paper on the coffee table. He made a cup of coffee and tried to read, but was too restless. The television was, as always on a Friday evening, appalling. They seemed to save all the worst stuff for weekends, he reflected. The time crawled by. Each time he looked up to see if it was time to go back to check up on Beth it seemed that only minutes had passed. How he would get through the night after he had seen her and come home, he had no idea.

Finally it was time to leave. He quickly drove back to Beth’s apartment. The streets were quieter now, fewer cars and people about. It was the indeterminate hour between the pub and theatre closing time and the quiet of late night. There would be one more brief flurry of activity as people made their way home, and then the quiet would be unbroken until the morning. When he parked the car Tom noticed a light was on in Beth’s apartment. He felt a stab of alarm. Had she got free? Had there been a break-in while she was helplessly bound? He understood then the nature of the game she was playing. It was a war of nerves. Beth deliberately put herself at risk to see what it was like. Tom remembered her earlier remark: ‘Don’t you ever tempt fate?’

He hurried up the front steps and fumbled with the key. He dropped it and swore beneath his breath. It wouldn’t do to burst in if there was an intruder there. More quietly he fitted the key into the lock and eased the door open. The front room was dark. There was no sound from within. As he eased the door shut he heard the creak of the bed springs, a short sound as of a sleeper shifting position. Or a bound female moving around. Quietly he made his way to the bedroom. The door was as he had left it. The light came from the kitchen, and Tom remembered that it was on a timer which operated it after dark unless it was reset. The light filtered into the bedroom and, with the outside lights from the street, allowed him to discern Beth lying on the bed. She was still bound and gagged, and the duvet was hanging halfway onto the floor, probably from her movements.

A floorboard creaked under his weight, and the figure on the bed stirred suddenly at the noise. ‘Only me,’ he called. The figure relaxed. Tom moved over to the bed and switched on a table lamp. He shared with Beth a dislike of overhead lights. She lay on her left side, her back to him as he stood over the lamp. Tom could see that her hands were still securely tied. He would lose no points for sloppy workmanship then. Her wrists were slightly reddened, probably from her attempt to free herself. He wondered what she would look like as she struggled, and felt a stirring in his crotch at the thought.

Before Beth came into the picture, he had not been particularly interested in bondage. He had not thought about tying anyone up for sex or for any other reason. Now he enjoyed both the artistic and sexual aspect of it. Beth had described it as packaging your partner. She herself made an attractive package as she lay on the disordered bed with her skirt up around her hips and the ropes pressing into the flesh of her legs. Tom was glad she had worn stockings and suspenders, he liked the effect.

Beth slitted her eyes against the light and tried to sit up. She failed and fell back with a little shrug of helpless resignation. Tom lifted her with his hands beneath her shoulders. He felt her back muscles tense as she tried to help him, and he admired the way her legs tightened and then relaxed when her weight shifted. He set Beth once more on the side of the bed with her feet on the floor, then bent down to untie her knees and ankles.

‘Let’s go to the loo before bedtime. Can you stand?’

Beth nodded, but her legs were stiff from being tied, and she almost fell. Tom caught her and steadied her into the bathroom. He helped her raise her skirt and sit down on the pan. From the splashing which ensued, he guessed that she must have been bursting for a pee. When she finished, he wiped her dry and removed the gag.

‘Are you hungry? You can’t have had anything since about tea time.’

Beth worked her tongue around her dry mouth and croaked, ‘No, nothing to eat. But I want some water, and I’d like to clean my teeth.’

Tom gave her a glass of water, holding it while she drank. Then he brushed her teeth. She drank another glass of water when that was done. ‘Not too much water now, or you won’t be able to hold out until morning,’ he cautioned.

Beth nodded and said, ‘You’re right. My mouth is dry from the gag. Would you mind wetting it before you put it back?’ She made her way back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed.

Tom rinsed out the gag and left it wet with fresh water. It gave him a curious sense of satisfaction to learn that Beth hadn’t been able to think of everything beforehand. Making his way back to the bedroom, he asked her, ‘Are you okay now, or do you want to call it off?’ Half-hoping she would.

‘I’m okay,’ she replied.

He replaced the gag and picked the rope from the floor where he had let it fall. Once more he tied her ankles and knees together. He laid her down on the bed, checking the ropes on her wrists and elbows. They seemed all right. Tom placed the pillows under her head and drew the duvet up over her body. Bending down, he brushed her eyes with his lips. ‘All right. Sleep well. I’ll be thinking of you.’ It occurred to him that this may have been one of Beth’s motives, although she had never been out of his thoughts the whole time.

Once more he made his way to the bedroom door, closing it behind him. He turned off the light in the kitchen and left the apartment. He locked the front door and walked to his car. It was late now, and the drive home through the quiet streets was relatively quick. He was feeling a bit sleepy now, despite the undercurrent of excitement. When he got home he parked the car and went inside. Despite the lateness of the hour, he knew that he wouldn’t sleep for a while. He put ‘Eine Kleine Nachtmusik’ on the tape deck and sat down to think, inevitably, about Beth. How was she enjoying the game? He remembered his first encounter with her, when she had handcuffed him to the bed and they had made love. He had enjoyed that, as well as the enforced idleness while he waited for her to do something. He imagined she was experiencing something like that now, and he hoped she was enjoying it. By her rules he could do nothing about it until tomorrow morning.

He slept fitfully and woke just after dawn. He sat for a moment wondering why he was in the chair and not in bed. Then he remembered last evening and was abruptly on his feet. He switched the tape machine off and tuned into the early morning news. While he listened he hurriedly splashed water on his face and made a cup of coffee. It occurred to him that he should call Beth, but then remembered that it wouldn’t do any good. Instead he changed into a fresh shirt, brushed his hair and headed for his car. He would shave at Beth’s place. The streets were not crowded and he made good time, stopping only once for pedestrians. But he couldn’t go fast enough. Once he pulled himself up abruptly: no point in getting a speeding ticket. He pulled up at the kerb outside Beth’s and hurried to open the door.

As before, the place was silent. He pushed through into the bedroom. Beth was lying on the bed, still bound and gagged as he had left her the night before. She looked a bit dishevelled. Her hair needed brushing and her skirt and blouse were crumpled from having been slept in. Her eyes over the gag were sleepy looking, but she smiled when she saw him. ‘Ummnnh,’ she said.

‘I guess that’s meant to be “good morning”, unless it means you have to go the loo rather badly.’

‘Oooooo,’ Beth said, nodding her head so vigorously her hair swept over her face.

‘I thought that might be it,’ Tom remarked as he untied her ankles and knees. He had to practically carry her into the bathroom. Her legs refused to support her after being tied all night. Tom arranged her on the toilet and held her erect. The sound of splashing from the pan told of a very full bladder indeed. When she was done, Tom wiped her dry and said, ‘I guess you need some water, and maybe a toothbrush. I’m going to take your gag off so you can drink. Then I’ll brush your teeth and make some breakfast for both of us.’

When the gag came off, Beth worked her tongue around her dry mouth and croaked, ‘Water.’

Tom held a glass to her lips and she drank it down in a gulp. ‘Another?’ Beth nodded. She drank the second glass a bit more slowly, and refused a third. He put the glass down and picked up her toothbrush. She opened her mouth at a sign from him and he brushed her teeth for her. He rinsed her mouth and put the brush away. ‘Breakfast?’ She nodded. ‘Can you walk?’

‘I’ll try,’ she said, rising unsteadily to her feet.

He supported her through into the kitchen and drew out a chair for her. She sat down awkwardly across the chair. She couldn’t sit back in it with her hands bound behind her. Tom began to make coffee and to set out the things for breakfast. ‘Are you all right, Beth?’ he asked as she sat down.

‘Yes. I’m okay, just a bit cramped. No, don’t untie my hands,’ she said quickly as he moved in her direction. ‘I stood it all night and I can stand it for the duration. You can untie me tomorrow evening, not before. Remember the rules.’