Agony Aunt (16 page)

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Authors: G. C. Scott

BOOK: Agony Aunt
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In the midst of her latest climax, Victoria abruptly lost control of her bladder, the ensuing golden shower coinciding neatly with her own orgasm as well as Harriet’s. She was largely oblivious to it, and Harriet also ignored the rivulets that ran down her legs and soaked into the mattress. She held Victoria’s shuddering body tightly against her own as she gasped out her own pleasure.
Only after they were both spent did she remark on the flood. ‘My, that was a surprise.’
Victoria blushed and started to stammer an apology.
Harriet silenced her with a finger on her lips. ‘I take it as a compliment. No one has ever pissed all over me at the moment of truth. If actions do indeed speak louder than words, then that was the equivalent of a shout.’ She smiled up at Victoria, who had gone red-faced with embarrassment for having had such a childish accident. ‘I only hope you have as much fun cleaning it all up as you did in making it. I understand how some people would pay money for the experience, so long as it comes with such a super climax.’
Victoria seemed reassured by Harriet’s light treatment of the accident. She essayed a ghostly smile.
‘I hate to break up the cosy position, but unless I get to the toilet very soon we’ll both take another golden shower,’ Harriet said with a smile of her own. She unwrapped her legs from Victoria’s and helped the other woman to roll off and lie on the bed. When she had extricated herself, she got up and made her way to the bathroom in the cellar. Victoria lay bound in the sodden bed while Harriet took care of her own urgent need for a pee. Then she returned to the bedside and unbound Victoria’s ankles and knees. Swiftly she removed the leather harness and pulled the dildoes from Victoria’s anus and vagina. She had to help Victoria walk to the bathroom because her legs were stiff from being bound for so long. Harriet was a bit stiff herself. When Victoria was safely seated on the toilet Harriet untied her hands.
‘I’m going upstairs to have a shower to wash away the traces of the last one. When you get yourself and this mess cleaned up, come upstairs and make something for us to eat.’ She left Victoria perched on the toilet ruefully contemplating her sodden stockings and her shame.
When she had dried herself, Harriet powdered her body with perfumed talc. Then she put on a pair of the shiny dark grey tights that were almost her trademark. They were followed by her leather panty-corselet. She remembered how much Tom admired her in this outfit, even as he was denied her body. And it was a sign of her dominance over him, which he also liked.
Putting it on now, she felt more herself than she had in a long time, as if she had stepped back into a familiar role just by choosing her costume. Leather makes the dominatrix, she told herself as she admired her reflection in the mirror. She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from the skin-tight leather, liking the feel of it as much as the way it confined her body.
Harriet took a pair of handcuffs from the hall table when she went back downstairs. She seated herself in the front room to read the morning papers while she waited for Victoria to finish below her. As she waited she towelled her wet hair.
Victoria eventually put in an appearance. She looked as if she too had taken a shower. She was nude and her hair was wet. She had taken off her stockings and suspenders, presumably to let them soak clean, but she carried her leather bra. It had been above the flood level. Her nipples were red and swollen from the long contact with the tiny spikes sewn into the cups.
‘I didn’t realise this was to be a formal dress occasion,’ she said when she saw Harriet was clothed.
‘It’s not,’ Harriet replied. ‘I just felt that leather was appropriate this morning. But you don’t have to dress up if you don’t feel like it. Be as informal as you like.’
‘You can’t get much more informal than skin,’ Victoria said. ‘What would you like me to do now?’
‘I thought an omelette and some fresh coffee would go down well. There aren’t too many calories in that, so it won’t ruin your figure.’
Victoria nodded and turned towards the kitchen, but Harriet stopped her with a gesture. She picked up the handcuffs and beckoned Victoria closer. She locked them on to Victoria’s wrists and then shooed her into the kitchen with instructions to get on with it. ‘And don’t forget to wash up the coffee cups from last night,’ she directed. Harriet remained in the front room to finish the paper and wait for the food.
Soon after, Victoria called her into the kitchen, where they ate a late breakfast with the sun slanting cheerfully in through the window and falling across Victoria’s nude body as she sat across from Harriet. The sounds of traffic came through to them, but they were apart from it, on a small private island. Victoria had learnt long ago how to eat in handcuffs, and she said nothing about how awkward they were. That would have been a grave breach of the etiquette of B&D, which she would never commit.
The strangeness of the situation made conversation difficult. Victoria was aware of her subservient role, and she knew that there would certainly be another sexual encounter before too long. That knowledge made light chatter inappropriate, and in any case Harriet was in charge, and any levity would have to be initiated by her. But she was silent.
Harriet was thinking of what to do next, which was itself a sign that she wasn’t her normal self. The thing that usually made Harriet so effective was her careful planning. She normally had things organised well in advance, but now there was the matter of Tom and how to deal with him. Even if she sent Victoria away early, she would still have her own problem to deal with. And she wasn’t going to send Victoria away in any case – her own sense of what she owed to her clients was involved. Once she took on a job she carried it through to the end.
When the silence had gone on for too long, Victoria risked Harriet’s displeasure by asking her what the matter was. ‘You’re unusually silent this morning, and you’ve never joined in the sex play with me before. You always stood to one side as if all the sweaty details were of no concern to you. Not that I minded, because you always made sure I got plenty of what I wanted. And I didn’t mind this time when you joined in, for the same reason. In fact I was glad you did, because I’ve always felt a bit guilty about having all the fun. But I couldn’t help noticing the different approach. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.’ This last sentence came out almost as a question.
Harriet looked up sharply at Victoria as if she hadn’t heard properly. Suddenly she nodded, as if she had reached a decision just then. She smiled as she answered the implied question. ‘Yes, I did have a good time.’ There was another pause, then Harriet continued. ‘I’ve been feeling a bit odd lately. A bit left out.’ She almost stopped there, but suddenly she found herself telling Victoria the story of the last weekend, how she had felt when Tom walked in and took control of her, and how it felt to be helpless for a change. She felt easier as she went on, as if it were a relief to tell someone of the change in her life. Harriet didn’t use the L word. She was wary of saying too much about her own emotions. And she knew that love was an abstraction. Even if one knew what it meant, there was no guarantee that the feeling would be reciprocated, allowing two people to put up with one another for long periods of time. And she knew that Tom had been with her for only a relatively short time. But she did feel differently about him – perhaps because he might not come back after her angry dismissal.
Victoria was not so reticent. ‘Are you falling in love with him?’ she asked. Without waiting for the answer, she continued. ‘Good for you. It’s about time you had a lover. Does you a world of good.’
‘Since when have you become an agony aunt?’ Harriet asked with a smile that robbed her words of rancour.
‘It’s you who’s been the agony aunt to all of us,’ Victoria retorted. ‘I don’t know about all the others who came to see you, but I’ve told you things about myself that would get me blackmailed if others knew about them. And I’m not talking only about what I’ve said. The things we’ve done – that you’ve done to me with my cooperation – are more revealing than any words I may have uttered. And you know things about Bill and me that no one else does. Yet until this moment I never thought about what feelings you might have as you catered to our somewhat bizarre tastes. I never thought you had any at all. You never said anything, and I got the impression that you were the original iron lady.’
‘But I had to be that way,’ Harriet explained. ‘After all, I had to take charge of you and all the others. It wouldn’t do to show any sign of weakness. It’s a bit like the relationship between the officers and men in a military organisation. The leadership has to be firm, and the one giving the orders – me – has to give the impression that we always know what we’re doing so that you lot will do as you’re told.’
She sipped her coffee before continuing. ‘And you know, up until now that hasn’t been too hard. There hasn’t been any love life to speak of. I can be a workaholic most of the time. Part, maybe the largest part, of what I offered you and others was the image of the implacable and ruthless dominatrix, someone who could be relied upon to ignore your most piteous pleas for mercy. And that led to the impression – both in you and in me – that I was in fact that person. And I suppose I
was
that way. It’s something I fell into without thinking, and it worked.’
‘Yes, it did. And I’m grateful. But it wouldn’t – won’t – matter if you have a lover. Your relationship with him needn’t change your relationship with me and the rest of us. So long as you can manage to give the impression of the iron lady to the rest of us when we come to you, we won’t worry about what you do with the rest of your life.’
Harriet looked quickly at Victoria as she said these words. She wondered if Victoria was being ironic, but there was no trace of irony in her voice or on her face. Harriet wondered if Tom – and the other men who passed through her hands – would agree. It was something to consider. ‘Well, don’t tell any of them just yet,’ Harriet said. ‘If the word got around, I’d know who to go looking for.’ Once again her smile was without rancour.
‘Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll be the soul of discretion until they torture me. But you know me. I’ll blurt out anything when I’m having fun.’ Victoria smiled in her turn.
‘In that case you’d better keep coming to me when you want to be tortured.’
‘Oh, I shall. I know when I’m in good hands. How about some more agony now, aunt? I’d like it ever so much.’
‘Don’t be greedy. I have things to do today, and you need some rest after yesterday and last night. You’ll have to make do with some bondage and imprisonment. Take pleasure from riotous thoughts about what I’ll do when I come for you. Use your imagination.’ Harriet didn’t add that she herself was in need of some rest. That was one difference between the old way, when she stood aside from her clients’ sexual excitement, and now, when she shared it. The latter was decidedly more fun, but it was also more strenuous.
It was time to end the conversation. Harriet had intended to act as if nothing serious had happened between her and Tom and that it was business as usual with Victoria. So she was surprised to hear herself saying, ‘I sent Tom away after last Sunday.’
That was a real show-stopper. Victoria looked shocked. ‘Why ever did you do that? After you enjoyed it so much?’
‘I was thinking of how angry I was. I was mainly thinking of how he had disobeyed my instructions, and how awkward things would be between us if he stayed around. I needed time to get myself sorted out. Only now I realise I might have been too harsh. It’s not like me to reverse myself, especially not so suddenly. I wish I had been more conciliatory – at least let him know I needed time to think. But I didn’t. Now it will be really awkward to call him. I don’t think he’ll call me.’
Harriet sounded more vulnerable than she had ever done. ‘You’ve got to call him,’ Victoria told her.
‘Who’s the agony aunt now?’ Harriet asked. She smiled at Victoria. ‘I need more time. Let’s get on with you.’ She wanted to end the conversation and resume her normal manner. She stood and led the way back to the basement, Victoria following without comment. Obviously she had taken the hint.
Once downstairs, Harriet removed Victoria’s handcuffs and told her to put on her suspenders and a dry pair of stockings.
‘My bra as well?’ Victoria asked.
‘Yes. You can’t run around naked all day, and I expect your tits could use a bit of stimulation too.’
With the bra off, Harriet could see how red Victoria’s breasts and nipples were from the contact with the needles in the cups, but Victoria made no complaint as she settled her breasts into the leather cups once again. Was there just the slightest wince as she reached behind her to fasten the bra? Her ability to endure major and minor discomforts still surprised Harriet, who knew her well. Thank heavens for the Victorias of this world, she told herself. Silently she went about collecting the rope she had used earlier before leading Victoria back to her cell.
Victoria seemed to have taken a temporary vow of silence as well. She turned and crossed her wrists behind her back as soon as she was inside, and stood silently while Harriet tied them together. Harriet gestured for her to sit on the bed, and then bound her ankles. She stepped back to inspect her captive.
‘That’s better, isn’t it?’ she asked brightly. ‘The simple solutions are often best. There’s a certain starkness and wild eroticism about an attractive woman – you needn’t be modest – bound hand and foot with plain rope.’ She spoke as if she were commenting on a work of art. ‘Or you could say the sight makes men want to have her there and then, if you wanted to be somewhat cruder,’ she added with a smile. She turned abruptly and left, locking the door behind her and leaving Victoria to her own devices.
Harriet changed quickly and left the house. There was nothing she had to do just then, but her restlessness drove her out. In any case, Victoria would be all the better for being left alone to imagine what was going to happen next.

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