His Mistress’s Voice (9 page)

‘And stockings and suspenders, too,’ she called after him. ‘I know how you like them.’ When Tom brought the clothing she dressed herself. Tom admired her body even as she covered it. He had deliberately chosen a silk blouse that allowed her nipples to show through.

When she was dressed again, he used the damp rope to tie her wrists and elbows again. Beth didn’t protest. They went into the kitchen where Tom made breakfast for them. He fed Beth between bites of his own toast and marmalade. He paused to rearrange her skirt so that she was showing more leg. Beth only smiled.

Breakfast over, he took Beth through into the living room and switched on the TV for her. She settled on the couch and when she was comfortable he tethered her to the coffee table by her ankle. Then he raised her skirt until he could see the tops of her stockings and the smooth flesh above them. Tom went into the bedroom to gather up the soiled bedding and clothing to be washed. Each time he passed through the front room she gave him an encouraging smile. The damp hair trailing over her face and shoulders gave her a dishevelled look which made her more appealing.

Tom paused on one of his trips to open the top buttons of her blouse and bare her breasts. He teased her nipples until they were erect and her breath was becoming rapid. Then he stopped to allow her to simmer. She looked like the classic captive maiden of romantic fiction awaiting with trepidation the pleasure of her captor: very exciting, thought Tom. He sometimes wished she’d struggle or protest, to give added piquancy to the game. But she didn’t. Tom carried on with the chores.

Finally the washing was all in the machine and the breakfast things put away. Tom went to sit beside Beth and they watched the awful Sunday morning shows. When the boredom was too much to bear he turned to fondle her breasts and slid a hand between her legs, liking the feel of the smooth nylon on her thighs. Beth always parted her legs obligingly when he did this. But soon it was time to go. He wanted to stay but her rules were still in effect. He tied her legs again and replaced her gag. Beth gave him an encouraging smile as he left.

Tom was at a familiar loose end when he got back to his place. The condition aggravated by the dreary atmosphere of Sunday afternoon. In desperation he drove to the zoo – not because he particularly wanted to see the animals. But at least there were people there. If nothing else he could play the game of watching and assessing them until it was time to go back and let Beth loose. He idly watched the families (and the single parents) strolling with their children. And as he watched these more or less complete family groups he realised just how far he was from their pre-occupations. He had never thought of having children, and had never seriously contemplated marriage and family life. That alone was enough to isolate him from the normal run of social contacts. And it made him a loose cannon. Isolated from the usual concerns of the family group, he prowled on the fringes, looking for loose females. And they were thin on the ground.

He was lucky to have met Beth as he had. She didn’t demand to be taken out to shows or restaurants. She seemed to be content to stay indoors and play erotic games. By the usual standards theirs would be considered an exotic, greenhouse lifestyle, focused as it was on sex and bondage. Some (maybe most) people would regard their preoccupation as unhealthy, even perverted. But that didn’t make him any less eager to get back to his lady in waiting. These were definitely not Sunday-at-the-zoo thoughts. He was probably exactly the kind of man mothers warned their children against. He imagined Beth would carry a similar health warning. He was a sex maniac and she was a scarlet woman. Too bad there weren’t more of them around.

Tom found Beth as he had left her. He removed her gag and untied her. Beth wanted to know about his evening with Valerie. She asked him for the most intimate details of the supposed encounter, and Tom found his powers of invention very strained indeed. He wondered (while hoping that she wouldn’t notice any discrepancies in his tale) why she was so interested in his behaviour with other women. At the end of the tale he found out why. Beth asked him if he wanted her to find someone else to share their sex games.

Tom was taken completely by surprise. It wasn’t an easy question to answer. A ‘no’ was the expected answer, and would brand him as conventional – something he didn’t like. A ‘yes’ could bring on a fit of jealous rage. Instead of answering he asked, ‘Where do you think you’ll find another one like you?’ In addition to being an implied compliment, the question was intended to allow him time to think about a totally new subject.

Beth accepted the compliment and told him that she would ask around. She looked preoccupied.

Ask around where? Ask who? Tom wanted to know. There was something vaguely alarming in Beth’s question. And in her persistence. It wasn’t jealousy, else Beth would be obviously furious. No, not Beth. Any other woman, yes, but she was different. Wasn’t she? This made her question all the more alarming. She was not one to be easily diverted from her course. Tom didn’t know if (assuming Beth managed to find a kindred spirit) he would be able to handle a triangular relationship. And what if the someone she found was male? It might be his turn to fight against jealousy and all the other problems he might bring to the relationship. Tom preferred to believe that the someone Beth had mentioned would, if found, be female.

For some moments Beth said nothing. She appeared to be thinking. At length she looked up and began to speak. She was uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘I had planned to handle this differently, but there isn’t any way to make it easier for either of us. I thought having you spend time with someone else would make it easier for you.’ Beth paused to give Tom a wan smile. She resumed quickly before he had time to interrupt with questions. ‘I have a job offer in Canada and I’m going to take it. I have to take it.’

Tom opened his mouth to protest. He was dismayed by the prospect of not seeing Beth again. He wanted to say all the conventional things that he imagined women wanted to hear, the things that would assure Beth that he wanted her to stay. But even as the words came to him he knew that he couldn’t say them. Beth was not an ordinary woman. An appeal to the more conventional emotions would not work. And he was not ordinary either, but he knew he didn’t want Beth to go, for reasons they must both already know. But even if she knew these reasons, she had still announced her intention to leave.

‘No, don’t say anything, Tom. Let me finish. Please. I promise you it’s not as bad as you think. I’m going to Montreal for a while: five or six weeks, maybe two months. I don’t know how long, but it’s not permanent. I’ll be coming back here. I just want to make sure you’ll be all right in the meantime. I know someone who will take care of you while I’m away. She’ll be able to give you a lot of helpful instruction in B&D. It will be like going to a college of further education. You can get your A levels!’ Beth said in an attempt at humour.

Tom saw that she was serious. ‘When are you going?’ It was his way of saying he accepted her decision. It didn’t imply he liked it, which he didn’t, and that was putting it mildly. Dismay might not be too strong a word. Beth’s weekday persona, the things she did during the time she would not let him share, had finally caught up with them. He remembered how he had met Beth at the street market. It was possible that she would meet someone else in the same easy way in Montreal. But he couldn’t say that either.

‘Tomorrow,’ Beth said quietly. ‘But remember, it’s not permanent.’ She looked unhappy but he knew she had made up her mind. ‘I don’t think it will do any good to talk about it. You ought to go now. But be ready to meet a friend of mine soon. And remember, I’ll be back sooner than you think. And I’ll miss you while I’m away.’

In a daze Tom got up and went out the door. He didn’t know how he got home. Nor how he got through the rest of the evening. The next week at work passed somehow. If someone had asked Tom what he did in that time, he wouldn’t have been able to say. He barely noticed the blank looks he got from his colleagues. The weekend didn’t promise any relief. There would be no more games with Beth to give shape to the time. Tom worked and ate and slept and tried not to think. He knew how rudderless ships felt – if ships could be said to have feelings.

Chapter Four

On the Friday after Beth’s departure Tom had the afternoon off work and was at home wondering what he was going to do with the time when there as a knock at his door. He was not expecting anyone, so he was surprised when he opened the door to find himself confronted by a sturdily-built woman who seemed to be both supremely self-confident and slightly impatient. He had been listening to a recording of ‘The Water Music’ and had taken the time to switch it off before answering the door. Hence his visitor’s impatience.

‘Tom Clark?’ she said without preamble.

Tom nodded.

‘I’m Harriet Jones,’ she said, advancing as though he had stood aside and invited her to come in. She looked as if she expected him to be expecting her. He hurriedly stood aside and she walked into his front room. She surveyed the place with an air of summing up its occupant, and finding him wanting in some obscure way.

‘Harriet Jones,’ she repeated, as if she expected the name to ring a bell.

Tom looked blank. He had not been thinking too clearly since Beth left.

Harriet Jones looked annoyed. ‘I suppose Beth neglected to tell you about me. She often forgets things,’ she said, with the air of one who never forgets anything. She went on, ‘I’m going to take over from her. She must have said something about that.’

The penny finally dropped. This must be the someone Beth had mentioned in their last conversation. But she had said nothing about her friend ‘taking over’. That must have been Harriet Jones’s own phrasing. Tom looked at his visitor and saw a short, sturdy woman who wore a brown tweedy two-piece suit and dark brown tights (or stockings). She was not in the same class as Beth for glamour. But she was pretty in her own way. Her legs were heavier than Beth’s, one of the first things Tom had noticed about her, but well-shaped. She wore high heels which made them more attractive – though that may only have been Tom’s prejudices showing. Her hair was brown, like her eyes. But the most striking thing about her was her air of command and self-possession. She was not someone you would lightly cross.

Tom recovered and offered her a coffee, or a drink, if she preferred. Harriet accepted a coffee and sat down on the settee without being invited. Tom went through to the kitchen to put the kettle on. He called back through to Harriet to ask if she wanted sugar and milk.

‘Both,’ she replied laconically.

When he came back with the coffee he noticed that her short skirt had ridden up her thighs. He paused to admire the view and to compare her with Beth. Harriet went up considerably in his admiration, as the owner of that pair of shapely legs, but Beth was undeniably the more attractive. Best not to make too many comparisons. Beth was gone. Harriet was here.

Harriet noticed his glance but said nothing. She did, however, allow herself a brief smile as though accepting a compliment. ‘Set the coffee down on the table and take off your trousers. Your pants too, if you’re wearing any. Beth wasn’t too clear on that point.’

Tom found himself unbuckling his belt before he thought about the bizarre nature of her command. With a shrug he continued until he stood before her naked from the waist down. Himself, unsure of the occasion, was inclined to sulk.

Harriet looked appraisingly at him. ‘Come here,’ she commanded. When he stood before her, Harriet casually reached for his cock and began to fondle it. Obligingly, it became erect under her hands. ‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘Hold that while I fix you up.’

Harriet fished in her handbag and came out with a tie wrap. She threaded the end of the plastic strap through the locking head and slipped the loop over his balls. She slid it up until it touched the underside of his cock, then she drew it tight.

Tom winced a little as the strap pinched him slightly. Harriet paid no attention. She dug a pair of side cutters out of her handbag and snipped the excess length from the strap.

‘Be careful with the family jewels. I haven’t got another set,’ he warned Harriet. She gave him a scornful look and continued to adjust the strap.

When she was satisfied, she gave him a dismissive nod. ‘That’s to remind you that you’re with me now. Put your trousers back on and drink your coffee. Then we can go.’

Tom did as he was told. He didn’t ask her what she meant by his being with her, nor did he ask where they were going. Later he wondered why he was so docile. At the time she seemed to be an irresistible force.

‘I need an assistant, and you’ve been volunteered for the job. By Beth, in case you haven’t guessed that already. She told me you might be at a loose end about now, and would be interested in some congenial work. With me. Of course you’ll require some more training and experience, but I will attend to that. She told me you had taken her sugestions readily enough.’

Tom felt a stab of regret at the mention of Beth, but he didn’t say anything. He hoped his feelings didn’t show. It didn’t seem like a good idea to appear weak to this resolute woman who had marched into his house as if she owned it, and him. He recalled how Beth had urged him to experiment sexually with her. He wondered if Harriet would fill the space left by his departed lover and tutor. He wondered how Beth was getting along in her assignment. He hadn’t heard anything from her, and he guessed he wouldn’t for some time. And he didn’t want to be the one to beg her to return.

Harriet didn’t appear to be interested in his moods or his expression. When he had come to know her better, he learned that she never bothered to study her subjects closely. She was a member of that self-assured group of women who assumed that others would do whatever she asked as a matter of course. She assumed from the start that he would be her ‘assistant’. She explained later what she wanted him to do in that capacity, but she never tried to persuade him to do anything. She took his acquiescence for granted.