His Mistress’s Voice Read online

  The room darkened as night fell. Tom began to wonder if he’d have to try to break the bars of the headboard to get loose. He wondered if they’d break. The thought crossed his mind that maybe Beth was not coming back. He had met her only this afternoon. He didn’t even know if this was her flat, although she appeared to know where everything was. Suppose a stranger came back and found him? Briefly he toyed with the idea of another woman like Beth coming in. Suppose no one came and found him? Tom tugged experimentally at the headboard of the bed. It was solid.

  Footsteps came down the hall, the rapid tattoo of high heels. They stopped outside the door. There was the sound of a key in the lock and the footsteps entered the flat. The light in the front room was turned on, but Tom couldn’t see who was there. And whoever it was said nothing. There were sounds of someone moving about in the front room and kitchen, but if it was Beth she was prolonging the suspense by staying out of sight.

  Tom thought that if she prolonged the suspense much more there would be a messy accident. Thoughts of the toilet were beginning to occupy him almost as much as thoughts of yet another sexual encounter with the startling Beth. As if reading his mind, Beth herself chose that moment to make her entrance. She said cheerily, ‘Glad you decided to stay. Everything all right?’ Tom grunted. She continued, ‘I imagine you’ll be wanting to get to the loo about now. I had intended to get back sooner but there was an awful crowd at the shops.’ So she had been casually shopping while he waited for her to come back to release him! Tom felt a momentary flash of annoyance at her cavalier treatment, but it faded when he remembered the earlier encounter. And besides, he realised at that moment, he was really enjoying the novel situation. It was a relief for once not to have to make all of the moves. If things went wrong, there was nothing he could do about it. But things showed no sign of going wrong so long as he got to the loo soon.

  ‘I got us something for tea. I thought you’d be hungry by now,’ Beth continued as she removed his gag. She bent to fondle his erect cock. ‘Is that for me? How thoughtful!’

  Before he could reply, Tom worked his tongue around to wet his dry mouth. When he could speak he said, ‘That one is for the toilet, but I promise to work up another one just for you as soon as I’ve taken care of the other business. Not that it will take all that much effort,’ he continued gallantly while Beth moved to unlock the handcuffs.

  She stepped back and put them on the bureau. Tom rolled out of the bed and stretched stiffly. Then he made his way into the bathroom. The relief was wonderful. He poked his head around the door when he was done. Beth was putting the bed to rights. ‘Okay if I have a shower?’

  ‘Good idea,’ she replied. ‘In fact I’ll join you in a minute. I can point out the towels – and some of the other features of the place.’

  ‘Are you one of them?’

  ‘I could be one if you’d like,’ she replied.

  ‘I’d like. Get out of those clothes and get in here.’ Tom stepped into the shower stall and adjusted the water temperature. While he was soaping himself Beth came in and got undressed. Again Tom watched closely.

  She got into the shower and took the cloth from him. ‘Turn around. You can ogle me later.’ She began to do his back.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be nicer if I faced you and let you reach around? That way we could rub the interesting bits together.’

  By way of reply Beth reached around him and used her soapy hand to caress his cock. That got his attention. His cock came to attention as well. He could feel her breasts pressing against his back – a most agreeable sensation. Altogether a most remarkable and agreeable woman, he thought. When she finished his back, Beth put the soap down and used both hands on him. She cupped his balls with her left hand and used the right to very good effect on his stiff cock. Before too long he began to wonder if there could be too much of a good thing. If she carried on much longer he was going to lose it in the shower.

  Beth sensed the same thing, and she let go of him with a terse, if enigmatic, ‘Do me now.’

  ‘Your back, or some of the more interesting bits?’

  ‘You can start with the back, and if you’re good enough I’ll let you try somewhere else.’

  Tom soaped her back and let his hands trail suggestively over Beth’s round, tight bottom as he worked down her legs. Tom considered himself somewhat of a leg man. He had read somewhere that the mark of a discerning lover was a preference for legs over breasts: those men who were fascinated by women’s breasts were put down as immature – mother-fixated, as the shrinks would say. He liked breasts well enough. He had never disdained them. But the subject now was legs. Beth’s were long and well shaped: not the spindly type so prevalent among models and famine victims. The delicate veins in the hollows of her knees seemed made to be kissed. He did, surprising both of them. He had never showered with anyone who permitted or encouraged such attentions. Showering was just a means of getting clean, something you did after sex, a way to wash out the memory, the stigma of it. No matter how liberated his other lovers claimed to be, they were still their mothers’ daughters. They could never quite shake off the idea that sex was dirty. Wasn’t that what their mothers had taught them? And who were they to doubt?

  Beth was surprised, but enjoyed the attention to this hitherto neglected area of her anatomy. Her fingers wound into his hair and he was acutely aware of their gentle weight on his head like a benediction. There was a trace of her perfume lingering in the delicate hollows. He had read somewhere that truly discerning women put a dab of perfume in the hollows of their knees, just in case someone happened to be in that area, he guessed. Beth seemed to be a very discerning woman, amongst her other, more obvious attractions. Tom’s hands were on her thighs, holding her steady while he nuzzled. Beth’s pleasure was made evident by the small tremors that travelled her legs. He could feel them come and go.

  She turned and Tom found himself facing an entirely different proposition. As he knelt he was on a level with her vulva. The dark reddish hair was glistening with drops of water and streams were running down the front of her thighs. Beth shifted her stance slightly and parted her legs – an invitation he couldn’t mistake, and certainly didn’t want to refuse. ‘Venus rising from the shower tray,’ he remarked as he shifted his hands to squeeze her bottom and draw her closer to his lips.

  Beth smiled at the sally. ‘I’m not sure this is what Botticelli had in mind.’

  Then once again he found his face buried in the fragrant cavern at the apex of her thighs. What he did there made her tremble even more. And heave. And pant. She gripped the back of his head with both hands, holding on to him and pressing him tightly against herself. Tom’s tongue was very busy indeed. He interspersed the licks with gentle nips at strategic points. When he took the time to look up quickly, Tom could see that her nipples had erected and her areolae were crinkly with excitement once more.

  Tom beavered away and presently Beth shuddered and clasped his head tightly against her crotch. Her breath was loud and ragged and her face was flushed. Her knees threatened to give way, and Tom supported her with his arms around her hips as she came. When Beth stopped gasping she raised Tom to his feet. His cock rubbed against her belly and she reached down to guide him into her. When he was aimed in the right direction Beth wrapped her arms around his shoulders and whispered, ‘Lift me up.’ Tom lifted her and slid fully home. Beth gave a small gasp of pleasure and twined her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles behind his back as he braced her back against the opposite wall of the shower cubicle. Their bodies were all slick with the soap and the sliding sensation as they made love was a rare pleasure.

  Beth brought her face down to his and they kissed with the water running down their bodies. Her mouth was open and her tongue darted into his when their lips met. She planted hot kisses over his lips and eyes and chin. He kissed her with equal fervour, and when they broke he nuzzled her ears and the sides of her neck. Beth’s legs around his waist held her straining body against him. Tom lost track of her orgasms. Once again he was concentrating on holding his own back for as long as possible. When he could wait no longer he spent inside her, barely managing to keep to his feet and support her weight as she bucked and heaved in her own climax.

  They spent the weekend at Beth’s flat, dressing only to go out for the newspapers. They didn’t get around to eating much beyond the odd sandwich. Somehow there never seemed to be enough time to devote to cooking a meal, though once or twice they made half-hearted offers. Tom hadn’t expected anything like this encounter when he met the stranger at the market. Her eagerness matched his own, which was rare in his experience. He had never made love so often with any other woman he had known in such a short space of time, nor been so absorbed by the bizarre sex games she introduced to the encounter.

  In the early hours of Sunday morning Tom woke up needing a drink of water. Beth slept on as he got carefully out of bed. When he was done he made his way over to the bureau where she had laid the handcuffs. He examined them to see how they operated. He went carefully back to the bed and got in beside Beth with the handcuffs. He waited a few minutes more to be sure she was asleep. When she rolled over Tom caught one of her wrists. She grunted sleepily as he locked one of the cuffs on her. He waited until she settled down again. There was no way to accomplish the next step without waking her, but he wanted to give himself as much time as possible. He rolled her over onto her stomach and pulled both her arms behind her, locking the cuff onto Beth’s other wrist. As he had expected, this brought her fully awake. Beth tried to bring her hands up and failed. She grunted in surprise as she realised that she was now Tom’s prisoner. Tom was ready to clap his hand over her mouth in case she screamed, but she didn’t cry out. On the whole she seemed to take the whole thing rather calmly. He was su
rprised. Most women, he guessed, would make panicky noises and thrash about if they woke up in the dark in handcuffs. Since she didn’t, Tom wondered if this was a commonplace event for her.

  ‘What do you plan to do now?’ she asked. There was no fear in her voice.

  Tom hadn’t thought about that. His plans had gone no further than making her helpless. Now he had to think of something else. He realised that the next move had to come from him but had no experience to guide him.

  Beth came to his aid when she saw him hesitate. ‘I don’t suppose you have much experience with bondage, do you? Is this your first time?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I thought so. How are you at rape fantasies? I have several in which a man overpowers me and has his way with me when I can’t resist. Like now. Or if you haven’t recovered from our last bout, we can lie here and talk. Or sleep. I can wait until you feel up to something more athletic. And by then you may have developed some ideas of your own. I can play the role of the captive beauty for you. Or the slave girl waiting for her master to free her, or take her. Name your fancy.’

  Tom could think of nothing more imaginative than to manoeuvre Beth until she sat astride him. He reached up to fondle her breasts and squeeze her nipples. He found himself enjoying the idea that she couldn’t stop him from doing what he liked with her. Before very long his erection was rubbing suggestively against her bottom and Beth was beginning to look preoccupied with inner matters. She lifted herself off him so that he could guide himself inside her, then sat back down with a sigh of satisfaction. Tom knew by the ease with which he glided in that she was already wet and aroused. They made love for what seemed like hours, at first with Beth sitting upright and later lying on him with her breasts pressed against his chest.

  And then they slept. And woke up to repeat the process. Beth never complained about the handcuffs or the pace of his lovemaking. She had placed herself in his hands and she allowed him to do what he wanted with her. This was something new as well. In his encounters with other women Tom had found that they wanted certain things, and resisted other things. Beth went along uncomplainingly, encouraging him to try whatever took his fancy when he showed signs of slowing down. And she didn’t engage in the verbal put-downs he had heard from others, no matter how well they fitted together in bed. Almost always there were implied comparisons. Sometimes these were more than implications, and always in the background was the notion that the woman was granting an undeserved favour.

  Chapter Two

  After making love to Beth during that stay-at-home weekend Tom found it hard to concentrate on business on the Monday morning. And in the following weeks the condition worsened – if that is the right word. There were frequent reveries of a particularly erotic nature. He imagined what Beth was doing at that moment: shopping; eating; visiting; waiting for him. Since she had not told him what she did, he could imagine almost anything he wished. He would form a mental image of her dressed in lacy underwear with her stunning legs sheathed in sheer nylon. Her lips were parted and there was an unfocused stare in her eyes as if she were thinking of making love. The erection these thoughts produced made it embarrassing to stand up too abruptly, but more important he found it hard to wrench his thoughts back to the task in hand. The naked body of his strange new lover seemed to come between him and everything he had to do, so that he began to see everything else as something devised by a perverse reality to keep him from her.

  The weekdays stretched out endlessly before him. The time from Monday to Friday was entirely too long to contemplate as a single span of time: an eternity before he could lose himself once more in her body and their wonderful sex games. For she seemed to take a special pleasure in devising new ways for them to enjoy one another. Her willingness to dress erotically and her skilful use of the slow strip made her the fantasy goddess that inhabits the dreams of even the mildest of men. Her alternation between dominatrix and slave, and his own similar alternation, confused and delighted him at the same time. Never before had he been with a woman who tied him helplessly and then used him so thoroughly. Nor one who urged him to bind her, gag her, ravish her. She fulfilled his rape fantasies, and when she took charge of him she took all responsibility from him. When he was tied to Beth’s bed he gladly relinquished all control over his body and his actions to her. All responses were provoked by her. He had nothing to do with the process of his arousal or with his satiation. He became an instrument upon which she played, evoking some very strange harmonies and discords he had never suspected lay in him. And when it was his turn to play the master she gave herself, as completely, over to his control. Each time he saw her they did something different.

  At first he had to be shown how to pose her, how to bind her. When at length he found his own inspiration, he began to do things to her he had never dreamed possible while she urged him on to make ever greater use of her body. Her helplessness under his hands and the abandoned writhing of her body drove both of them to new heights. It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that he saw her through a haze of lust. In everything he did the image of Beth bound hand and foot and heaving under his hands as he teased her or pleasured her was before him. And he as often found himself imagining how she dealt with him. It seemed to him that he had a permanent erection. Certainly his mental erection was permanent. In the increasingly fewer calm moments he wondered at the power she exerted over him. But he never considered that they should be, or do, anything different. He was losing himself in her. The aroma of her perfume, her body, her sweat, her musk would return to haunt him at any time throughout the age-long time when he had to be away from her so that he couldn’t be sure if it was an actual smell or merely the memory of one.

  But there was one thing Tom couldn’t help noticing. As their games unfolded he found himself more often the one in charge. Beth never complained about that. In fact she seemed to become more and more the submissive partner as he assumed the active role. The change was slow, but it was there.

  One Friday, as he was preparing to leave his flat to go to her, there had been a knock at his door. Annoyed, he had gone to answer it, thinking that he would have to deal quickly with whoever it was so that he could return to that darkened bedroom which was such an important part of his world – indeed the centre of his world. When he opened the door Beth was standing in the hall. She was wearing a long coat buttoned up to the neck. Beneath the hem, which reached to her knees, Tom saw that she was wearing his very favourite pair of high heels and a pair of sheer glossy black stockings. He remembered that it had been a cool day, but certainly not cold enough to wear such a heavy coat. Before he could recover from his surprise, she said, ‘Well, aren’t you going to ask me in? A girl could get the idea that she was unwelcome standing out here. Cat got your tongue?’

  In the end he simply stood aside and motioned her to come in. He closed the door and was about to turn to Beth when she told him to lock it. He felt surprised and happy because she had come to him. Up until now it had been the other way around. All the confusion of the past days faded from his mind as he turned to face Beth as naturally as a sunflower follows the course of the primary across the daytime sky. And then he stopped abruptly. Beth had unbuttoned her coat and stood before him: she wore nothing under the coat save her stockings and suspenders. The idea of Beth travelling across town to meet him in this state gave him an immediate erection.

  ‘I planned it as a special treat for my first visit to your place.’ Beth slipped out of the coat and let it fall to the floor at her feet. She smiled wickedly at him as she opened her arms. ‘See anything you like?’ she teased. Tom nodded dumbly and they kissed for what seemed like forever, standing there in the entrance way. His senses swam with the combination of her woman smell and the heat of her body as she pressed herself against him. He held her tightly to himself with one hand while the other roamed over her naked body. She gasped in pleasure when his hand slid down her back and cupped her bottom, lifting her onto tiptoe and pushing those magnificent breasts more firmly against his chest. She put her face close to his ear and whispered, ‘Why don’t you take your clothes off too? Then we can start equal.’