Agony Aunt (23 page)

Katrina examined some of the rings but said she didn’t think any of them would do. ‘Do you have any rings which lock around the male scrotum?’ she asked, surprising Tom with her knowledge of a subject hitherto unknown to him.

The attendant set out another tray for them to inspect, this one containing sets of rings linked together. They were heavy, but Tom could see that they were of the same type as Katrina’s. Once fitted together they would lock as hers did. Katrina picked a set of three rings, one of them a locking ring and one a larger, solid ring. The two were connected by a smaller link, forming in effect a chain composed of three links. Katrina nodded in satisfaction.

‘We will take these,’ she said. ‘May we have two boxes?’

The woman smiled and thanked them as she wrapped the gifts in separate boxes. ‘I am sorry we don’t have a gift-wrapping service like the big stores,’ she said. ‘Maybe one day we will be rich enough to have such things.’

Tom paid and they left the shop.

Katrina said, ‘When we get back to the apartment I will give you the money for Harriet’s rings. We will go Dutch this time. Anyway, this is my gift to her.’

Tom didn’t argue this time. ‘How about the others? How do they work?’

‘I will show you when we get back home, unless you want to look very conspicuous on the street. But do you need anything else while we are out? Once we get back I don’t plan to leave until it is time to go to Schiphol.’ Katrina grinned carnivorously.

Tom grinned back, feeling like a conspirator among the unknowing crowds of people on the pavements. No, he said, he couldn’t think of anything he needed. Except maybe Katrina.

The apartment was a haven from the rest of the world while they explored each other on the verge of parting. The impending separation lent a poignancy to their lovemaking which they had not felt when they knew they had more time. The late morning became afternoon as they ate and drank and laughed and made love.

Once again Tom was inclined to feel sad. He was leaving Katrina and going back to the uncertainty of his relationship with Harriet. And once again Katrina refused to let him wallow in his doubts. She laughed at them, and assured him that they would meet again soon.

‘You are too good to give up,’ she said. ‘I plan to visit you in London after things are settled between you and Harriet. And I expect you to come back here often. You are not to worry about Harriet. I almost forgot to tell you, but late yesterday I got a call from a woman in London. She said her name was Victoria Mason, and did I know where you were? I told her you were out of contact but that I would give you a message as soon as you called.

‘Anyway, Victoria wanted you to know that she has been talking to Harriet and that you are missed at home. Harriet, she says, has admitted to her that she wants you to come back, but can’t yet bring herself to make the same admission to you. Victoria says she is working on Harriet – telling her not to be so set in her ways. And I have told her much the same thing. Between the two of us we women will fix things with Harriet. So you are not to worry. Instead, I will show you how the rings work, so that when you get home you will be ready for Harriet. And, I think, she will be ready for you.’

Katrina got the rings and took them to the bed. The locking ring was in two halves, exactly as Katrina’s nipple rings had been before they were inserted and closed, and it worked in the same way. She held them by the solid ring for Tom to see. ‘The open ring locks around the loose skin of your scrotum. You must be sure the balls are down at the bottom of the sac – like this.’ She grasped his scrotum and squeezed the balls into the desired place. Katrina fitted the open ring around the loose skin of the scrotum. ‘Hold the balls down here for me,’ she told Tom. ‘I will need both hands for this.’

He held his testes in one hand, stretching the sac downward so that Katrina had as much room as possible to work in. She aligned the two halves of the ring and pushed them together. They locked with a small click which was barely audible, but when Katrina pulled on them, the two halves could not be separated.

‘See,’ she said with an impish grin. ‘Now you are locked in. The ring is too small to slip off over the two balls. They will hold it in place. The only way to remove it now is to cut it off – like my own rings.’ She touched her nipple as she spoke. ‘Please stand up now and face me.’

Tom got up, the rings dangling below his cock, which was becoming hard. Katrina struck it sharply, as a nurse might do when a male patient gets an erection at an inopportune moment. It subsided. Tom grunted in surprise.

‘Sorry,’ she said briefly. ‘I did not mean to hurt you, but you must be soft for this next bit. Watch,’ she commanded. ‘The large ring is intended to slip up over the cock, like this.’ Katrina slid the ring over Tom’s cock and worked it down to the base. ‘Now you are supposed to get hard,’ she told him.

‘I don’t want to seem ungallant, but it doesn’t get erect on command. Even if the woman giving the order is as pretty as you are,’ he added.

‘I am only pretty? Not beautiful? Not . . . how do you say . . . ravished?’ She laughed. ‘Maybe for that I will not help you any more.’

‘You are . . . or you have been . . . ravished several times. But yes, you are ravishing. Beautiful. Superb. Is that good enough?’

‘I suppose that will do,’ Katrina said. As she spoke she began to caress his cock, which this time began to stiffen in her hands. When he was fully erect, she let go of him and applied her mouth to his cock, using her tongue and lips to arouse him. She stopped abruptly. ‘Now, try to slip the ring off your cock,’ she said.

Because the two larger rings were linked by a smaller one, it was impossible to do as she had told him. After a moment he admitted to failure, his cock standing out stiffly with the ring around the base.

‘You can see how it works now,’ Katrina said with another smile. ‘You cannot remove the ring while you stay hard, but there will be no problem once you go flat.’

‘The exact word is “flaccid”,’ Tom corrected her. ‘But we won’t quibble over details.’ His voice shook slightly, and there was a familiar tightness in his chest. He looked hard at Katrina as she sat on the bed with her legs parted.

She looked back at him, her eyes laughing. ‘We really should not waste this,’ she said, taking him in her hand and urging him to lie on the bed. ‘If you will let me get on top this time, I will show you another feature of Harriet’s gift. And I would like you to have your hands free to touch me, especially my breasts and nipples and rings. It excites me.’

Tom lay on his back and Katrina straddled him. She placed his hands on her breasts and then guided him into herself. At once Tom was aware of the ring around his cock as it was pressed against him by her weight. She braced herself with her hands on his shoulders and her arms straight.

‘In a few moments I will not be able to speak well, but now I want you to know that your ring is pressing against my clitoris, and it is . . . very nice. I think Harriet too will enjoy the effect.’ Katrina’s voice was becoming high and breathy at the end, but she managed one more coherent command. ‘Now play with my nipples. I am about to come.’

And she did, with a soft cry. Tom teased her nipples with his fingers as he cupped her breasts, and Katrina came again, her nails digging into his shoulders. He felt her pubic bone grinding against his, and she began to moan softly in her arousal. The ring was tight around his cock, and tight against Katrina’s clitoris. When Tom came Katrina cried aloud, an indrawn shriek that filled his ears. Her eyes were closed tightly and her face was expressionless, as if she was turned inward by the intensity of her orgasm.

Slowly her stiffened arms bowed. Katrina sank down until she was lying against Tom’s chest, all her muscles loose and relaxed. She seemed to sleep, and Tom himself dozed. They lay together for a long time. He was woken by the shifting of her weight as she got up, standing beside the bed.

‘It is time to go,’ she told him quietly. She touched his face with her hand, lingering.

Tom held her hand on his cheek for a moment. Then he sat up and they parted, each beginning to dress without facing the other. Despite the promises of other meetings, there was still a sadness in this parting. Dressed, they were able to look at one another, and even to smile briefly. It was hard to leave the apartment which in such a short time had become like a home to them, but eventually they found themselves on the street.

At the central station they felt more cheerful, perhaps because of all the other people who were travelling as well. They bought their tickets, Tom a single and Katrina a return, and made their way to the platform. The train journey was smooth and all too short for both of them. Gloom threatened to overtake them, and it was only Katrina’s insistence that they would meet again soon that kept things from becoming too difficult.

‘In any case, I expect a report from you on how you are getting on with Harriet. You must tell me how she likes your gift – and mine. I will be over to England in about four weeks. I will see you then, and I expect to hear that things are all right on the home front. Now kiss me and go catch your flight.’

They hugged one another outside the departure gate, and then Tom went through the customs barrier. Turning, he waved one last time. Katrina blew him a kiss and turned away to go home.

6

Back Home

Once back home, Tom found the flat both musty and empty, but then he reflected that after Katrina other things were almost bound to seem dull. The ring locked around his scrotum reminded him of the recent past, and the uncertain, but equally near, future, with its decisions and confrontations. He wondered how long it would take Victoria and Katya to bring Harriet around.

Work was . . . work, something one had to do unless the lottery numbers or the football pools turned up lucky. None the less, Tom was grateful for it, because it stopped him worrying about his love life. The evenings were bad, especially Sunday. In the middle of the second week, the telephone was still obstinately silent. But on the Thursday evening he came home to find a message on his answering machine. He listened as he poured a whisky for himself.

‘I would have called sooner, but I’ve been out of circulation, so to speak. I’ve spent the last week with our mutual friend. It was both work and pleasure. You can probably guess what the pleasure was. The work consisted mainly of doing the housework you should be doing, and in persuading the householder that she should re-employ her live-in assistant. I think she’s about to crack, but she is a tough nut. We need to meet. I suggest Friday evening. Call me, please.’ Victoria sounded cheerful, as she usually did after a session with Harriet. And she sounded hopeful too.

Tom ate a quick dinner and called the number she had left. He got the answering machine in his turn, which was especially irritating because he wanted to find out what Victoria and Harriet had been saying about him. He left a message suggesting his place at eight on Friday evening. Would Victoria call him back and confirm?

She did, early on the Friday morning, just catching him as he got out of bed. ‘Your place. Eight-thirty for me. We girls can’t be seen to be punctual. That would wreck a habit we have taken years to form.’

Tom shopped that evening after work, intending to make a decent meal for Victoria.

It was closer to nine when the doorbell sounded. He hurriedly lit the candles on the table before answering the door. Victoria entered the flat like the proverbial breath of fresh air. Her hair was glistening with raindrops and she had a cheerful smile and a kiss for him. She approved of his arrangements, and told him so. ‘I hope the food – and the rest – is up to the cosy setting,’ she said. She took off her coat and Tom hung it up in the hall. ‘Since you’ve set the table, we’ll eat first and then go on to other things. We must talk at some time as well, if we’re to solve the problem of our mutual friend.’

Victoria was dressed as if for a shopping jaunt to Oxford Street, and she had brought a large carrier bag from Selfridges which suggested she had been out spreading the wealth a bit. Her dark hair was swept back and around in a French twist, a style Tom especially liked even though it was currently out of fashion. She wore a tight-fitting one-piece dress of red velvety material and a choker of black ribbon with a cameo fastening.

‘You,’ Tom told her, ‘look like why the riot started.’

Victoria gave him a brilliant smile and twirled in a circle to allow him to look at her. ‘You certainly know how to say the right things to a girl after she’s spent the day shopping and making herself look pretty. Thank you.’

‘I’m strongly reminded of the scene in
Dr Zhivago
where Julie Christie wears that sensational red dress to the assignation on the eve of the revolution.’ Tom led the way to the table, where he pulled out a chair for Victoria and seated her. He set out a platter of cheese and sliced ham. There was also a basket with crisp french bread, a jar of pickle and a salad bowl containing mixed greens. ‘I call this particular spread SAS,’ Tom told her. ‘Sandwiches and salad. Or you could call it sex after sandwiches.’ He was moving towards his own chair when Victoria stopped him.

‘Not so fast.’ She was opening her handbag as she spoke. She took out a pair of handcuffs and laid them on the table. ‘I pinched these from Harriet especially for tonight, and I expect you to do the right thing by your guest. You are going to handcuff me and feed me titbits while you undress me with your eyes. Then you can undress me with your hands and we can get down to the main event – unless you absolutely have to do the washing up. I will act the part of the captive maiden who is afraid that she has fallen into the hands of an evil seducer who is determined to have his wicked way with her. That will provide just the right
frisson
to the meal. Don’t you agree?’

Victoria didn’t wait for his answer. Nor did Tom bother to make one. They had both been through something similar on several occasions. He picked up the handcuffs as Victoria stood up and brought her arms behind her. Moving behind her, he snapped the handcuffs around her wrists. She waited while he rearranged the chairs so that she was seated facing him. Once again he helped her to sit before bringing his chair closer to her.