Second Interlude

Second Interlude

Ava Frasch unlocked her car and sat down in the driver's seat. The whole car had an air of non-use about it. This was hardly surprising since it hadn't been used for a many a month, roughly a term and a half, in fact. It had been left securely locked up in the garage belonging to an acquaintance of hers, one Dr Fiona Allbright, BA BSc MSc PhD. At the time she left it, she hadn't mentioned in any especial detail to Dr Allbright where, or why she needed some storage, but nonetheless Fifi had readily agreed to keep the car safely tucked away in her garage until reclaimed. It wasn't as if there was a problem in that, because Fifi didn't, herself, drive, and nor did she otherwise own a car. Ava Frasch smiled. The two of them had been loose friends, but nothing more, sharing a number of similar interests, and on that score it was odd, she thought, that things had ended up the way that they had.

Ava Frasch recalled that she herself had got the tip for the job of PT instructor from one of the St Stricktlands School supply teachers, one Jeanette Diamond. And so it was to be that she and Fifi had both ended up as teachers and colleagues at that illustrious establishment, that venerable seat of learning that was St Stricktlands School, otherwise known as the caning centre of the known universe.

She smiled to herself as she hit the starter button and wondered whether the engine would fire after all this time. It did. So she stepped on the gas for a couple of minutes to let the spiders sort themselves out. She'd just returned back to Letchhampton in order to collect the car which she'd been obliged to leave here all the intervening time. But even that journey had had its entertainments. She'd met up with George....Georgie Boy, he seemed to be called, and Helen, who'd both turned out to be, well, extremely entertaining adults. She discovered very quickly that Georgie Boy fancied her something rotten. Well, OK, she thought, she knew that she was indeed highly fanciable, and it was great fun fucking married men, especially when the wife didn't mind. In this case, of course, the wife REALLY didn't mind, in fact, quite the opposite, nay, encouraged it. The Shagtons enjoyed an open marriage arrangement, and Helen Shagton enjoyed it immensely, it seemed, when her husband played around with strict Ladies. She smiled again. It appeared that one of his favourite strict Ladies was the self-same Dr Fiona Allbright, who had apparently enjoyed a college based ménage a trios with the Shagtons, and who still enjoyed a regular relationship with Georgie Boy. She shook her head. Oh, the intrigue of it all. That portion of the convoluted tale, at least, she hadn't known anything about.

Gingerly, she put the car into first gear and moved it out of the garage. No problem. So she got out, closed the garage door, got back inside, and headed off along Side Street. She glanced back at The Knackers, the house name for number 69.

She braked suddenly at the junction with Letchhampton High Street, her attention quite definitely not being on the road. Damn it, she thought, she'd just driven through another red light. Well, only just a little bit red, she considered, and traffic in that direction was light, and no police were around, so what the hell, anyway? And for that matter, what was wrong with going through the occasional red light? After all, she'd stopped at a few green ones in her time, usually about 3am when returning from a particularly good party, and never been given any credit for those, so she reckoned that the traffic cops owed her for a few red ones, simply for the sake of overall fairness.

Her thoughts turned to number 8, Acacia Avenue. The Shagton household, where she was now heading back to. Yesterday had been fun, too. Helen Shagton, too, had been, it seemed, very happy to give her some oral service....well, she'd given Helen some of that back, too, of course. But she'd had the invitation extended to go back this afternoon for some more naughty fun and games. It would have to be this afternoon, though, because Georgie Boy was due to make his weekly visit to Dr Fiona Allbright that morning. Her mouth quirked. George was, she knew, at the end of a full month of No Sex For A Month from his wife, and so he was going to be very, VERY frustrated....and, of course, that also made him a prime candidate for all manner of prick teasing together with all allied pursuits. She wasn't totally sure what Helen had in mind for him in the afternoon, but she knew that it would be a whole load of fun. For the Ladies, at least, she added the mental caveat almost automatically. Orgasmic fun always was for the Ladies, of course. The men....well, that was their problem. Thrashings, canings, floggings, whippings, croppings, ball beatings, prick teasing and testicular torture....that was what they all merited....and if they got any sexual satisfaction at all then they should be jolly grateful for small mercies.

It wasn't that far back to Acacia Avenue. She parked the car outside the house, and walked up to the front door. She rang the doorbell. Nothing happened. She rang again. A complete stranger answered it, wearing nothing except for a black frilly apron together with a pair of Ladies' high heeled shoes. She blinked for a second, wondering whether she'd got the right house. Then she sniggered. It was, she remembered, an identical outfit to the ones that Georgie Boy had been wearing that morning, even down to the elasticised hole where his testicles were protruding through. And the figure eight on the door was clear enough. So this must be, she reasoned, another sex slave belonging to Helen Shagton? She reached forwards and squeezed his bare balls, hard. "Uhhhhhhh," he moaned, and bent forward. "Please, Ma'am," he gasped, "what was that for?"

She grinned at him, and let go of his balls. "That, bad boy," she said, "was for your failure to answer the door timeously. What was your excuse, anyway?" Slowly, he straightened himself up. She could see that, underneath his frilly apron, there was an outline of something else straightening up, too.

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am," he replied, "I was a little tied up, you see." Ava Frasch didn't doubt it. Probably his Mistress had indeed tied him up.

"Who is it, Dai?" called a voice from inside. Helen Shagton, she recognized the voice easily enough. And who, she wondered, was this Dai, anyway?

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am," said the mysterious Dai to her, "but I didn't quite catch your name?"

She slapped his face, really hard. "That's because I didn't tell you," she snapped, and noted with pleasure how he reeled and gasped at the blow. Oh, how she so always enjoyed slapping submissive men around for no particular good reason. It always got her juices going, somehow. She barged straight past him, elbowing him out of her way, and then pausing only to administer a well aimed knee at his delightfully offered bare balls - a gesture which brought him gasping down to his knees in an instant - and then called out, "Hello, it's me, Helen....I mean, it's me, Ava....I was able to rearrange my itinerary today after all."

Silence for a moment. Then, "We're both in the kitchen, Ava, come along in." She walked along to the kitchen. 'They,' were indeed both in the kitchen. George Shagton was on the floor, naked, with his balls bound tightly by a rough rope cord, and they were being pulled hard by Helen Shagton who was almost wearing a miniskirt that was somehow almost up to her waist, and who was quite obviously being provided with oral service, in exchange for strict balls bondage. A fair exchange indeed, Ava Frasch thought to herself, virtuously. She looked again at Helen Shagton. No knickers, either, she duly noted.

"Ahhhhhhhh, me balls," moaned George Shagton, desperately, as his wife pulled harder on the cord.

"Stop moaning, George," said Helen Shagton, "and stop thinking about yourself. Concentrate on my needs, instead, and get that tongue deeper inside me. You know exactly how I like it." With that, she pulled harder still on his testicles.

"Arghhhhhhhhhh," moaned George Shagton again, but his efforts were rewarded this time, because, all at once his wife orgasmed suddenly. She went rigid all over, and shook.

Her head arched upwards, and she mouthed, "Yessssssss," to nobody in particular. Then she yanked his balls, hard, again. "How many cums was that, George?" she snapped.

"Please Ma'am," he mumbled, presumably still with mostly a mouthful of cunt, "I make that seven cums....so far."

Helen Shagton sighed, and lifted herself off him. "Can't get the staff," she said, with a slight grin. "Oh, here, Ava," she said, offering her the end of the rope, "would you like to pull his balls around a little and have some service, too? It does so....serve to keep men focussed, doesn't it?" Ava Frasch agreed with that one. Keep men's balls well and truly bound, well and truly stretched.....at the same time as keeping the penis well and truly frustrated. That was the way to deal with all men. Wouldn't the world be a far better place, she thought, if ALL men were dealt with on that basis? No more silly wars, for example.

With a slight grin, she took hold of the rope, and, reaching inside her skirt, slid her knickers down and then off. Then she took up Helen Shagton's spot on his chest, lifted up her skirt, and pushed his face up towards her own cunt. "Five cums for me, bad boy," she said.

"But, Ma'am," he wailed, "I have to get to Fi's house." She slapped his face, hard. "No buts, boy," she hissed, "unless you want to talk about what will happen to yours if you argue with me."

Helen Shagton added, "That's what I like to hear, Ava," she said, "another girl after my own heart. He needs this kind of treatment all the time, you know." She sniffed. "Anyway, we will have plenty of time to deal with him this afternoon now, so you can make good on that suggestion in any event." She turned to her husband, "Now, George....if you value your balls, oblige the Lady. And be quick about it."

A small voice from the floor mumbled, "Yes, Ma'am."

George Shagton's tongue made contact with her cunt. She thrilled at its touch. He was, she already knew, very, very good, just as good, if not better from, she assumed, greater experience, than Shagger was, and he was very good, too. Such a pity, she thought, that boys weren't trained from puberty how to please Ladies like this. She pulled on the rope, "Deeper, George....get in there, damn you," enjoying his agonized reaction as she did so. Then he found the spot. Her world flickered. "Uhhhhhhhh," she moaned, as he expertly took her clitoris between his teeth and began, expertly, to bite it and to tease it. "Ohhhhhhhhhh," she gasped, and pulled on the rope cord for all she was worth as she came in ecstatic orgasm. She felt her juices flow. She swallowed. "Again, bad boy.....you've still another four to go."

It was fifteen minutes later before she pronounced herself satisfied....at least, she thought, for the time being. She let go of the rope cord. Helen was nowhere to be seen, presumably, she thought, she'd gone to deal with the other sex slave by the name of Dai. So, somewhat shakily, she stood up. George Shagton lay still, gasping, on the floor. "Was that...all right for you, Ma'am," he enquired.

She smiled. "That's was quite OK, my little pet," she said, rubbing her cunt as she spoke, and watching his penis quiver as she did so. "A little full, are we, honey," she enquired, sweetly, knowing full well that his balls were full to capacity at this juncture.

"Oh, MA'AM," he said, and closed his eyes, presumably, she thought, to avoid any further stimulation of his already overworked penis.

"Letching over me again, are we?" she asked, to which there was really no need of any answer, "Well," she went on, answering her own question, "we strict Ladies know JUST how to deal with nasty little letchers, don't we?"

George Shagton shuddered. "Yes, Ma'am," he replied, "please punish me severely this afternoon."

At that moment Helen Shagton walked back into the room. "George," she said, "why ever are you lying on the floor like that? Get up this instant. You should have been at Fi's five minutes ago." Her husband hurried to his feet.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, "sorry, Ma'am, I'll be right on my way. And Fifi will whip me for lateness, among other things, of course, so you don't need to worry about my punishment."

Ava Frasch sniggered, "I might very well whip you later myself, bad boy, just for the general hell of it, of course, and because I can." She looked into his eyes. She could see a gleam in there which quite clearly said, 'Yes, please, whip me, whip me....' She shrugged. Shagger had asked her for a whipping only an hour or so previously. Like father, like son, after all, she thought to herself.

Helen Shagton patted his bottom smartly. "Off you go, George. And you will go dressed as you are. We will see you in a while, after Fifi has done her worst." George Shagton didn't argue, even though it meant that he would now have to get himself naked to Dr Fiona Allbright's house somehow without being arrested for indecent exposure. Well, Ava Frasch thought, he could drive, at least. Then all he'd have to do would be to make a quick dive for the front door.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, and hurried out of the room.

"Do follow me into the lounge, Ava," said Helen Shagton, "I've ordered Dai to produce us some tea and biscuits in ten minutes, but he's just got a few things to finish up first. Ava Frasch didn't like to ask what those few things might be, and Helen Shagton didn't elaborate further, so she simply followed her into the lounge. "Help yourself to a comfy chair, my dear," said Helen Shagton, and she did likewise.

"I'm glad to see you were able to make it back here after all, Ava," Helen Shagton said, when they were both comfortable, "I know you said you weren't quite sure you'd have time. Was David delivered OK, into his period of service?"

Ava Frasch grinned widely, "He was just fine, Helen. And, as I said, I've....err....rearranged my itinerary for today. I'll travel back to St Stricktlands late this afternoon, I think." She paused, "It seemed such a waste of a good opportunity to pass up."

Helen Shagton grinned. "You do like George, don't you, dear? Fancy him I mean?" Ava Frasch blushed slightly. Helen Shagton was very forward in such matters, and she had no qualms at all, it seemed, in searching out new strict Ladies for her worse half's enjoyment, or otherwise. "I do, yes, thank you, Helen, and of course I do very much appreciate the facility, so to speak." Helen Shagton smiled. "My pleasure, of course....well, it usually is my pleasure, if you know what I mean...." A quick wink. Ava Frasch did know exactly what she meant, of course.

At that moment, the door opened and the sex slave Dai entered the room, carrying a tray with tea and biscuits on it. He trembled slightly and a biscuit fell off the plate onto the tray. Ava Frasch and Helen Shagton looked at each other. "Would you care to do the honours for such sloppy service, Ava?" asked Helen Shagton, as slave Dai set the tray down onto the table, and stood to attention.

"Certainly, Helen," she replied, stood up, and looked around for an instrument of punishment. Helen Shagton silently passed her a cane. It must, she thought, have been under her chair. "You are a useless, careless, good for nothing slave," she snapped at him and then slapped his face, twice. "What are you?" she demanded.

"Please, Ma'am," he replied, "I'm nothing but a useless, careless, good for nothing slave. Please punish me for my failings." Ava Frasch sighed.

"Bend over, bad boy," she said, swishing the cane through the empty air. "Three whacks, I think?" she said, looking at Helen Shagton as she spoke.

"That seems very fair and lenient to me, Ava," Helen Shagton replied.

Dai bent down. He had, thought Ava Frasch, a very nice, pert bottom. She took the trouble of running her hand all over it, very gently, feeling him tremble slightly at her touch. Then she stood well back, and brought the cane down.

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

"One, Ma'am," he replied, "thank you, Ma'am."

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

"Owwww," he gasped, slightly, "Two, Ma'am....thank you, Ma'am."

Ava Frasch smiled at Helen Shagton, who smiled back at her.

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

"Ahhhhhhhhhh," he gasped, louder this time, "Three, three,thank you so much, Ma'am. I know that I'm careless, and that it needs to be beaten out of me."

Dai remained solidly in position. Ava Frasch ran her hands over the three neat red weals which were rising on his bottom. He winced at her touch, this time. "A perfect punishment caning," remarked Helen Shagton, "but then, you've had plenty of practice."

"All right, Dai," said Helen Shagton, at length, "you can stand up and get out." She consulted her watch. "You've got another half hour left before you go, Dai, so you can use the time to best advantage by preparing us both some luncheon. Get everything ready and lay it up in the kitchen for us. You can leave when you're through. I'll see you next week, same time, if you wish?" Dai stood up.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, "I'm grateful for the opportunity to be of service to you. Until next week, then, Ma'am," he said, and then, turning to Ava Frasch, added, with a small bob of the head, "Ma'am," he repeated, and retreated from the room with every measure of humility.

Ava Frasch said, "Seems to be a good sex slave to me, Helen. Where did you find him?"

Helen Shagton grinned. "Known him for years, Ava," she replied, "that is the husband of a colleague of yours, the well known Iced Diamond." Ava Frasch started slightly in shock and then took another bite of biscuit to mask her mental confusion.

The redoubtable Jeanette Diamond. "Dai Diamond, then?" she enquired.

Helen Shagton giggled. "Exactly so. Known even now, of course, as The Double Diamond¹." A very old advertising jingle went through Ava Frasch's mind, unbidden. "So he works wonders, then?" she asked.

Helen Shagton laughed out loud. "I fear that dates you somewhat, as well, Ava....even though I was only tiny at the time. But, yes, that is exactly the case."

Helen Shagton nodded. "Quite right, Ava," she replied, "I found that out recently.

"Oh?" asked Ava Frasch. Helen Shagton grimaced. "I'd wanted some...err....special attention, you see, the special facility which my good friend Terrence is always kind enough to make available."

Have A Thrash nodded. "A good, hard, caning, you mean?" she enquired with heavy irony.

Helen Shagton gazed into the middle distance. "Exactly so. I really, really, did need a good hard caning that day, I do feel the need every now and again, well, we all do, don't we...?"

Ava Frasch nodded, "....and, as you know, George is incapable of servicing my needs in that department....and so Terrence was good enough to help me out of my misery." She prompted Helen Shagton gently, "And?" she asked. Helen Shagton eyes slowly cleared.

Clearly, thought Ava Frasch, she'd been remembering that occasion. "The caning was fine, except that what I didn't realize was that I'd dropped my car keys at the main entrance hall...."

Ava Frasch looked at Helen Shagton, "Oooops," she said.

"Anyway," Helen Shagton went on, "after I'd had a really good hard caning of, I recall, a dozen whacks, I was just preparing myself to walk out of Terrence's office trying hard not to look as though I'd just been caned, don't know who I was kidding there, of course, hell, everyone waiting outside in the corridor was bloody well going to know that I'd just been caned, after all, that was what they were all there for.... to find Dai standing in sexy Suzy's office together with the said car keys. Well...what could I say, of course? I knew the little so-and-so must have heard everything, because he gave me such an old-fashioned look. I thought I'd die." She shook her head, and took a final swig of what was now fairly cold tea.