Agony Aunt (3 page)

Tom guessed what was happening and abruptly stopped. It took Harriet a moment to realise what he was doing; then she twisted violently in his lap, trying to make him continue what he had started. She moaned in frustration. Damn you, she thought, recognising at the same time that this was exactly what she had done to him. She had required him to hold back for as long as possible – part of the training, she insisted. And she had often simply denied him the pleasure of orgasm by refusing to finish what she had started. But she had forgotten the efficacy of her own methods when she was on the receiving end. Mortified, Harriet resolved to be less obvious.

She forced herself to relax and wait for the next move. Tom seemed in no hurry. He too sat relaxed, his hands merely cupping Harriet’s breasts as if weighing them. She glanced at herself in the mirror and was gratified to see he was admiring her. He had told her often enough that he found her attractive, but like most women, Harriet had difficulty in believing that she was the right size or shape, no matter how often others told her she was.

She was glad she had allowed her brown hair to grow longer. The shoulder-length cut softened her face and made her look much more youthful. She tended to be thick in the waist and heavy of hip and thigh without being fat – not an easy feat for anyone. Her calves swelled nicely, and she had often been complimented on her legs. Indeed, Tom had seemed more than pleased to caress them whenever she had allowed him to do so. And the way he cupped and stroked her full breasts should have reassured even the most sceptical of women that he was taken with her. As she looked at herself, Harriet realised that Tom’s actions indicated an appreciation of her body. And the erection that still lay between them said the same thing. She lay back against it, wishing he would get on with things.

Presently he did. His hands resumed stroking her breasts, pinching the nipples and stretching them until once more they were stiff and sensitive. Harriet sighed as she felt herself becoming warm all over again, especially between the legs. This time Tom varied his approach. When it became obvious from her accelerated breathing and involuntary squirmings that she was once more becoming excited, he used one hand to clasp her bound wrists, tugging them and causing the rope in her crotch to saw against her clitoris. Harriet hissed through her gag. She could feel herself gathering to a point somewhere beneath the mons veneris, a tingling and a warmth that she hoped would grow.

It did. She felt a small shudder of pleasure as she came, but this first orgasm was a ladylike thing. She didn’t even moan, but she was glad none the less. This time Tom didn’t stop – apparently he had decided on a change of tactics. She was on the verge of another climax and was no longer worried about holding back for the sake of policy. This man knew her well, even though this was the first time she had ever been driven this far by him. He knew which buttons to push.

There was no hiding the next orgasm. Harriet felt it building at the base of her spine, warm waves flooding through her belly and down her thighs. She tightened herself around the lovely sensation, and the sudden hunching of her body must have told Tom that she was going to come again. He didn’t stop, proving himself more merciful than she had been when their roles were reversed. Her breath caught on a gasp, and this time she couldn’t stifle the moan of pleasure as she was shaken by her climax. And, yes, here came another one hard on its heels. Harriet was on the verge of losing all control, and she was past caring as the waves of her orgasms lifted and dropped her, one after another. She writhed on Tom’s lap, feeling his erection against her back. The ropes were tight around her legs, holding them together around that grand eruption at the centre of things. Now she added her own tugs to the rope in her crotch while Tom still held her bound wrists and stroked her breasts in turn. She wanted to shout her pleasure out, but the gag limited her to a series of high-pitched moans.

Tom, bless him, seemed intent on driving her wild, and she was content to be driven, if content wasn’t too mild a word to describe what she was feeling. A long ‘unnnhhhhhh’ signalled the next climax. Harriet bent herself at the waist and jerked her hips as it rippled through her body. She was in danger of slipping off on to the floor, but Tom paused long enough to steady her before resuming the cycle of arousal and climax. When he finally stopped, Harriet lay back against his chest and gasped for breath. She felt his arms around her waist, holding her steady as the earth gradually regained its equilibrium for her. It was nice being held like this.

Tom let her rest while her breathing and pulse steadied and slowed. Then Harriet felt herself being lifted and turned so that she lay across his lap, her back supported by his left arm and her legs hanging over the opposite arm of the chair. He smiled crookedly at her and leant forward to kiss her earlobe before fumbling one-handedly at the ropes that bound her knees and ankles. When the ropes finally fell away, Harriet let her legs fall apart and flexed them. She was stiff after being tied for so long, and she was tired out after last night’s, and now this morning’s, frolics – but not too tired to watch carefully for Tom’s reaction as she moved her legs. She was glad to see his look of approval.

‘Bathroom,’ he told her. ‘I’ll be along in a minute to dry you off. Try not to make too big a mess.’ Once again he stroked her legs fondly through the sheer nylon of her stockings before he helped her to stand up.

As Harriet left the room he was gathering up the pieces of rope and tidying the bed. He was still half-erect, and she imagined it wouldn’t take too much effort to bring him back to attention. In the bathroom she suddenly realised how badly she needed to use the toilet after being tied up for nearly ten hours. As luck would have it, the lid was closed, and with her hands bound tightly against her belly she couldn’t lift it. Being this near the goal made her afraid she would wet herself. She clamped down hard and at the same time tried to call for help. ‘Ummmmm!’ There was no response, and she felt herself leak a few drops. She tried once again, louder and longer: ‘Ummmmmmmnngg!’

Tom came a few moments later. She nodded her head desperately at the closed toilet lid and jerked her hands to show him she couldn’t open it, nearly causing the floodgates to open as the rope sawed at her crotch. His smile infuriated her, and she grunted in annoyance once more. He seemed to be taking his time.

‘I should let you wet yourself,’ Tom told her. ‘You made me do that often enough. But I don’t feel up to changing you right now.’ He lifted the lid and stood aside.

Harriet squatted hurriedly and relieved herself. It felt almost as good as a small orgasm. She suffered the indignity of being wiped dry in silence, remembering how she had put Tom through the same ritual. Having to be helped with one’s most intimate acts was a good way to learn humility and obedience, she had told him. And so it was. The rope between her legs was damp. Placed as it was, that had been unavoidable. He could have spared her that if he had loosened it.

Nor did he loosen it now. He took her elbow and led her downstairs. ‘Breakfast time,’ he said tersely. He seated her on the couch and went through to the kitchen. Presently he came back with toast and coffee. ‘Boiled eggs in a minute or so,’ he said as he removed her gag.

Harriet worked her tongue around to moisten the inside of her dry mouth. He held the coffee cup for her and she drank thirstily.

‘Another, please,’ she said when it was empty. There were many other things she wanted to say, but first things first. What she had to say to Tom would keep until they had eaten. Now that the sharp edge was off her sexual desire, Harriet was thinking it was more than time for her to reassert her authority. But she was at a double disadvantage – her hands were still tied and she was considering the possibility of further sexual gymnastics in the near future. Maybe she should wait until that was over before resuming control of the relationship. Though she couldn’t admit it to him, she was rather looking forward to finding out what sort of a lover he was. But it didn’t do to let the servants get above themselves, so she kept quiet.

Harriet saw that the time was approaching 9.30 a.m., rather later than she normally had breakfast. That explained why she felt so hungry. As she waited for Tom to return she decided that she had to try to reassert control over the situation, even if that meant she would have to forego the anticipated pleasure of allowing him to go on. It was more important that she regained her authority as soon as possible. One had to make some sacrifices to be true to oneself, didn’t one?

Tom returned with a tray, which he set down on the coffee table. Toast and boiled eggs, marmalade and coffee – it all looked tempting on an empty stomach. His cock looked tempting on an empty –

She stifled the thought and summoned her most severe look. ‘Tom, this has gone on long enough. I insist that you untie me this minute and resume your duties. What you did this morning was a serious violation of our agreement and will be dealt with in due time.’ She felt slightly foolish as she remembered how much she had enjoyed his ‘serious violation of our agreement’, but she had to say the words. She knew she sounded pompous as well.

Tom looked directly at her. He appeared to consider her words for a moment before he said no.

Harriet was taken aback. She had expected him to obey the command and resume his role as her servant/slave. She tried again. ‘Tom, I warn you that your behaviour is making me very angry. You are only making things worse for yourself by continuing this disobedience.’

‘You didn’t look very angry in the bedroom a few minutes ago,’ he replied.

Harriet felt herself flush as his remark hit home. He had unerringly put his finger on the weak spot in her argument. Nevertheless she persisted. ‘Don’t argue with me. You took advantage of me when I couldn’t resist. That’s done. Untie me now.’ She looked down at her bound wrists to emphasise her determination.

Still he made no move to obey. By way of reply he buttered a slice of toast and spread marmalade on it before offering it to her. Harriet knew that to eat from his hand would be a further sign of submission. After all, she had taught him the same trick during his first week at her house. But he was turning her own training against her now. He had spirit, she had to admit. He continued to hold the slice of toast close to her mouth. Harriet could smell the butter and marmalade, and her stomach rumbled. She felt betrayed by her own body. Tom’s grin didn’t improve her temper.

‘Not hungry?’ he taunted her. ‘Or would you prefer this –’ He indicated his cock ‘– with butter and jam?’

Harriet knew then that the argument was lost. She opened her mouth and took a bite of the toast. It was delicious, and she made no further demur as he fed her the rest of the breakfast. She ate everything. When she was done he sat down and ate his own. He didn’t ask her permission to sit or eat in her presence. Full of himself, Harriet fumed, even as she felt the familiar churning in the stomach that preceded sex. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he did her again. With difficulty, she restrained herself from letting her anticipation show. At the same time she was planning how she would make him pay for his disobedience. I’m such a hypocrite, she chided herself.

Tom finished eating and rose to clear away the remains of their breakfast. Harriet had to admire his deliberation. He knew he’d have to pay for this day’s liberties, but he never wavered. He must want me very badly, she told herself, if he’s willing to go this far to have me.

When he came back, Harriet felt her stomach go hollow with anticipation. His erection was back and she knew that was due to thinking about her. She was happy to accept the tribute. Without speaking, Tom helped her to stand and guided her upstairs with a hand on each of her elbows. She too remained silent during the trip, but her thoughts were full of what was happening. It’s now. He’s going to do me now, Harriet thought as he led her to the bedroom. He’s going to put that up me and I know I won’t be able to keep quiet. She resolved to try not to be too obvious, but was afraid he would know anyway.

Harriet reflected that the relationship between the sexes was often spoilt by an unwillingness to show one’s true feelings and responses for fear of betraying a weakness in oneself. She herself had been an offender in this respect. Joni Mitchell’s couplet came back to her about not letting them know, not giving your thoughts away. She wondered if this might not be the time to change her own policy; to abandon her reservations wholly.

The pressure of Tom’s hand on her elbow suddenly brought her to a stop alongside her bed. She felt him working on the knotted rope behind her back, and abruptly the pressure on her labia and clitoris eased as it came free. Harriet brought her arms up and over her head, stretching the stiffness from them and easing her cramped shoulder muscles.

‘Lie down on the bed, Harriet,’ Tom commanded her.

It was the first time he had addressed her by her name since she had taught him to call her ‘Mistress’. It was another sign of the change in their relationship, at least for the time being. She wondered if it would ever be the same again. Before today everything had been predictable. She gave the orders and he obeyed. It might not be so easy to go back to that state now, and she felt slight loss and regret. She lay down on the bed, her bound wrists resting on her stomach.

Tom pulled her arms up over her head and tied them to the headboard of the bed with the rope that had run between her legs all night. She could smell the faint odour of herself on it. Her heart was beginning to pound in her chest, and her breath came short. All the muscles in her stomach knotted as she imagined what was coming. When she looked at Tom he was still erect. She looked away quickly. Don’t be the nervous virgin, she chided herself. You’ve seen him often enough. And he’s certainly not the first. But still she knew that once his cock was inside her, things would probably never be the same between them.