Agony Aunt (8 page)

‘These go in the obvious places,’ Harriet explained, handing her the larger of the dildoes. ‘Try this one in front.’ She watched while Rachel slid the dildo home. ‘Turn around and bend over so I can help you with the other one,’ she directed.

‘But I’ve never had anything up there,’ Rachel protested.

‘Then it’s time you did,’ Harriet told her. She waited expectantly, and finally Rachel turned to present the rear elevation. But when Harriet tried to slide the slimmer dildo into her rectum, she found the muscles clenched tight. With a sigh, Harriet lubricated the rubber shaft with hand cream from the bureau and tried again. ‘Loosen up,’ she ordered Rachel. ‘You’re tighter than a duck’s arsehole, and that’s waterproof.’ Finally the job was done, and Harriet brought the strap up between Rachel’s legs. She threaded it through the rings at the base of the two dildoes and inserted the rubber pad with the stubby ‘fingers’ beneath the strap where it passed over Rachel’s vulva. Then she pulled it tight and buckled it, leaving the other woman tightly plugged and looking slightly discomfited. But there were signs of interest there as well. Rachel’s nipples had erected themselves without any further encouragement, and there was a thoughtful expression on her face, as if she were contemplating the new sensations and finding them pleasant – or at least intriguing.

‘Let’s get you into your straitjacket,’ Harriet said. ‘It’s best if you sit on the bed and let me help you slide into it.’ Harriet watched Rachel’s face as she sat down, putting pressure on the plug in her anus. She winced slightly at the unfamiliar full feeling, but made no complaint. Yes, something might definitely be made of this one. ‘Bring your legs together now and slide them in first,’ Harriet directed, holding open the bottom portion of Rachel’s straitjacket.

The young woman slid feet first into the sack-like part of the garment, wriggling just slightly more than was necessary to settle her legs and feet in the place designed for them. Harriet thought she might be conducting further experiments with the novel sensations from her two plugs. That was another encouraging sign. Next Harriet held the top of the garment for Rachel to insert her arms into the sleeves. When her hands were in as far as they would go, Harriet helped her to lie back on the bed by lifting her legs. She urged Rachel to roll over on to her stomach so that the laces at the back were accessible.

Harriet started at the bottom, slightly above Rachel’s own rather nice bottom, methodically lacing her into the straitjacket. As she worked her way upward Harriet remarked, ‘You and your grandmother are about the same size. This fits as if it were made just for you. That’s a bit of luck. It would have been disappointing to have gone this far only to find you were the wrong size.’ As she spoke Harriet pulled the laces tightly around the sturdy hooks set into the leather, compressing Rachel’s body into the hourglass shape that had been so fashionable among women of two generations ago. The ‘sleeping garment’ must have been designed with this purpose in mind, as well as the stated one. ‘Figure training’ was the phrase used in those euphemistic days. She noted that Rachel didn’t require a great deal of compression.

Giving a final tug at the laces, Harriet tied them together and tucked the ends inside the back of the straitjacket. When she buckled the collar around Rachel’s neck, it covered that part of the garment, putting the laces out of her reach. They must have been security-conscious in those days, Harriet reflected. Or maybe the craftsman who had made this one had been proud of the finer touches he applied to his work. But even if the laces hadn’t been tucked safely out of reach, the wearer would not have been able to release herself unaided. It would have been awkward to reach them, and in any case Rachel’s hands were enclosed in the mittens sewn on to the ends of the sleeves.

‘Time to roll over again,’ Harriet told her young captive.

Rachel rolled on to her back, not without some interesting contortions that must have made the plugs move inside her. Her face was a study in restrained anticipation.

Harriet buckled the waist belt, effectively dividing the straitjacket into an upper and a lower half. Next she tightened the straps around Rachel’s knees and ankles. The young woman watched intently as she was rendered progressively more helpless. Then it was time to secure her arms. She didn’t resist as Harriet folded them across her breasts and threaded the straps that went behind her back and anchored her wrists to her elbows. There were separate straps that went around the arms twice, buckling behind the wearer. When Harriet was done, Rachel’s arms were held immovably against her breasts and upper body with no slack in the straps.

Harriet stepped back and regarded the young woman, considering whether a gag and blindfold would add anything worthwhile to Rachel’s maiden effort at B&D. No, she decided, it might be better to leave that for later. No point in going the whole way on the first attempt. If Rachel became jaded, or if she desired some variation on the original idea, there would be something else to add later. Harriet looked at her wristwatch. It had taken nearly twenty minutes to get from nude female to this leather-wrapped parcel that now lay on the bed. She thought Rachel made a pretty package, which was one of the more pleasing side effects of erotic bondage. She realised she might be a bit late for her appointment, but Harriet thought of one more touch that might make the experience more pleasant for this rather pretty young woman who had come so unexpectedly to her door.

She went to her own bedroom, unearthed her Polaroid camera, and loaded a fresh roll of film into it. As she worked, Harriet glanced at her bed. There, she thought, is where Tom found me only two or three nights ago, and where he had me so thoroughly. She felt a pleasant ache in her crotch and a tightening in her stomach muscles as she thought of what he had done to her, and of what they had done together.

Before returning to the guest room, Harriet peered through the two-way mirror that allowed her to see what was going on in the other room without letting the occupant know there was a watcher. Like all good jailers, Harriet wanted to be able to observe her charges without their knowledge – she often learnt useful things in that way. This time she was treated to the spectacle of Rachel making little experimental thrusts with her hips and wriggling her body as she explored the sensations from her two plugs. Harriet smiled. Things were working up nicely, she thought, as she returned to the other room. She didn’t try to muffle her footsteps in the hallway, with the result that she found Rachel lying quietly and innocently on the bed when she entered the room.

Only the slightly agitated breathing of the young woman and the slightly disordered state of the bedclothes betrayed her attempts at auto-eroticism. It was ironic, Harriet reflected, that this modern woman was using the very restraints designed by an older generation to prevent sexual exploration in order to arouse herself. Harriet knew that Rachel’s grandmother had not had the benefit of the two dildoes to help her, and that she had often been strapped down to the bed to prevent any ‘extraneous’ movement that might adversely affect her sanity. But she had overcome both these obstacles. Harriet also wondered how often Rachel’s grandparents had used the straitjacket in their own sexual explorations. She had little doubt that Rachel and her mother had gone visiting on the day when the two older people were engaged in a little creative bondage. There was no other reason to immobilise a sane middle-aged woman in the middle of the day.

Rachel looked up in alarm as Harriet pointed the camera at her and snapped several pictures from different angles. Doubtless she’s afraid of blackmail, Harriet imagined, so she hastened to reassure the other woman. ‘Don’t worry. These pictures are for you. Souvenirs of your solo flight, as it were. I’ll leave them on the bureau where you can see them while I’m away. They may help your . . . meditations. If you like them, I can use up the rest of the roll when I get back. Some of my clients like to have something to take away with them – for later use. But everyone is different, and if you don’t like the photos, we can destroy them.’ Harriet sat on the bed beside her young captive. ‘Now, Rachel, here’s what will happen. I’m going out for a while. You don’t have to know how long. There are no clocks in this room and you won’t be able to tell how long you’ve been here. That’s part of the game. Now, are you sure you don’t have to be anywhere for the rest of the day? It wouldn’t do to alarm anyone expecting you to call round.’

Rachel nodded. ‘I understand,’ she said. Her voice shook slightly with suppressed excitement.

Harriet continued. ‘You’ll be locked in this room, and the house will be locked as well, so you’ll be safe and private enough. I don’t think you’ll be able to get out of the straitjacket. I noticed how well made it was as I was lacing you up. Did you notice the way the straps and the laces are all designed to be hard to reach by someone on the inside, as it were?’ Rachel nodded again. ‘And in any case, your hands and arms are immobilised, so you can struggle as much as you like. Struggling may bring you to climax. A lot of people are built that way, and I hope you are as well. It’s important to have fun. Otherwise the exercise has no purpose. Remember that, and do whatever you want to do. When I get back we can talk over the experience if you wish, and you can ask questions and I can make suggestions for other games.’ Harriet smoothed Rachel’s hair away from her face and stood up to leave. ‘Have fun,’ she said as she left the room, closing and locking the door.

Harriet didn’t leave the house, but she made a show of going downstairs, and she opened and closed the front door a good deal more noisily than necessary, in case Rachel was listening. Then she went quietly up the stairs again and settled herself at the two-way mirror that looked into the guest bedroom. She wanted to see what Rachel did with herself – it wasn’t every day an utter neophyte came along. Also, it might be prudent to be there if something untoward occurred. And there was always the chance that she herself might learn something new. Harriet wasn’t averse to a bit of voyeurism every now and then.

There was no way of knowing how long Rachel would take to react to her fantasy, if indeed she reacted at all. It might still come to nothing. Not every woman was able to bring herself to climax without the use of her hands, but some could do so after a bit of training.

Rachel lay quietly for almost a quarter of an hour. Harriet thought she might have gone to sleep, but she hadn’t. Her first sign of life was to try escaping from her straitjacket. Harriet could see her pulling against the straps that bound her hands and arms against her body. In her imagination she could almost hear the creak of the leather as the young woman tugged and jerked against her bonds. Next Rachel tried the straps that bound her legs together, though even if she had somehow managed to loosen them she would be no further forward. Harriet knew there was no escape, but Rachel had never been so completely immobilised before, and she had to discover for herself what it meant to be in bondage. For a moment Harriet regretted not having strapped Rachel to the bed, but that could be done later if the young student liked the first lesson.

After only a brief struggle Rachel appeared to give up the idea of escape, lying quietly once again. The only result of her efforts was a slightly elevated rate of breathing and a flushed face. When she moved again, it was to turn herself on to her side. This was accomplished after several attempts – she obviously wasn’t used to levering herself about without the use of her arms and legs. Each time she got halfway there she would lose her balance and roll on to her back again. Finally she succeeded, and lay facing in Harriet’s direction. She bent her legs at the knees to prevent herself rolling back again. First lesson learnt, Harriet thought. Rachel’s face was more flushed than before, and Harriet guessed that her struggles had caused the plugs to move inside her vagina and anus. Rachel didn’t appear distressed by that.

Her next action showed that she was learning the second lesson. As Harriet watched, the young woman began a deliberate series of thrusts with her hips which were obviously intended to move the two plugs about. She began slowly, experimenting to see what produced the best results. Harriet watched her breathing quicken and her face become flushed once more. Rachel began to move faster, jerking her hips backward and forward. Abruptly she lost her balance and rolled over on to her back. Harriet could see her frustration as she struggled on to her side once more.

This time Rachel was more careful about her movements, but she didn’t seem to be able to arouse herself as before. She tried again. Her hips moved rhythmically as she felt her two plugs. This time when she lost her balance she rolled over on to her stomach, where she made a discovery. In this position she could grind her hips against the bed. She did so, more and more energetically, and it soon became clear to Harriet that the young woman was an untaught auto-erotic. And an explosive one. Rachel’s movements became more rapid as she discovered what the dildoes and the rubber pad over her vulva were doing to her.

Harriet regretted not having installed a microphone and speaker so that she could listen as well as look. Rachel looked as if she was becoming frantic. She twisted her head from side to side, and whenever she was facing in the right direction Harriet could see her mouth working. Every so often she could hear a faint cry from the other room, but most of the evidence of Rachel’s arousal was visual. She jerked and bucked against the mattress, then suddenly became rigid, apparently in surprise. She was facing Harriet at that moment, and she saw that the young woman was on the verge of a climax.

The next moment she was there, writhing on the bed and tugging madly at her straitjacket. She appeared to be trying to fling herself in all directions, with only the leather garment restraining her frenzied movements. Her cries were more audible in the next room. Harriet liked the demonstrative ones better. It was easier to see when they passed the point of no return. This time Harriet had a double reward. She could see the surprise and the pleasure on Rachel’s face as she came. It looked as if Rachel’s reward was more than double. Three or fourfold would have been more accurate. Good for her, Harriet silently applauded.