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Nicola spent another week with me. Horatia paid three further visits to Mr James. On the third of these I instructed Horatia to have Nicola accompany her.
It was a measure of the extent to which Nicola had progressed in her adjustment that she neither questioned nor resisted my instructions, nor did she object when I cuffed her hands behind her as I prepared her to leave.
Horatia returned later with her charge to provide an account of their excursion. Nicola had gone with her compliantly and on their arrival at her husband’s home had allowed Horatia to fit the gag and hood that I had provided to ensure that Nicola neither communicated with her husband nor that he would realise who was accompanying Horatia.
"How was your visit," I asked Horatia affably. Nicola, her wrists still cuffed behind her stood silently at Horatia’s side giving no indication of her feelings about the excursion.
"I believe Mr James found it most helpful," Horatia responded. "The more so since there were two of us to attend to his needs. I called your student ‘Paidia’. It seemed to amuse him."
My opinion of Meriel James rose. I had thought him simply a man of numbers but, in recognising Paidia from Greek mythology as one of the handmaidens of Aphrodite, he had shown a cultured aspect that was unexpected. How fitting, given their mission, that Horatia should dub her companion as the Goddess of Play.
Nicola blushed.
"I chose to take for myself the attentions of Mr James’ mouth and tongue. He seems to have developed an enthusiastic interest in the art of cunnilingus since I first introduced him to it." Nicola dropped her head, as if embarrassed by having failed to bring out this aspect of her husband’s sexuality.
"Please, Nicola, do not blame yourself for past inattention," I cautioned. "Only now do you begin to realise your abilities and your duties. You would only be justified in blaming yourself for failings of that kind in the future." Nicola nodded and looked a little brighter. "Go on, Horatia," I said.
"My good friend ‘Paidia’ saw to the needs of his male member. I did notice one thing of worthwhile note for your student. Mr James’ member increased significantly in both thickness and length when he realised that he was fucking a woman that was both helplessly shackled and silenced. I am sure ‘Paidia’ will have noticed it when compared with her previous encounters."
I turned my head towards Nicola indicating that she could speak if she wished.
"It is true, Sir. I found his member stiffer than I have previously known it and it responded with vigour to my own movements, skewered as I was on his manhood. I can see that arranging something similar in future would be a source of considerable pleasure to him."
"And in no small measure for yourself?" I let my gaze fall to her chest where her nipples could be seen clearly, pertly erect beneath the silk of her blouse.
"Yes, Sir," she replied with self-assurance. "I will acknowledge that."
"Good," I said, "that is evidence of your deepening of understanding your role."
It seemed that the day’s activities had been successful. I felt in need of some compensation for my efforts. For a moment I considered making use of Nicola but, eventually concluded that this was not the right time. She needed to consider all that had gone on that day.
"Very well done, Horatia," I praised, "I am sure that your administrations were much appreciated by Mr James and, I must confess that I find myself desiring your consolations as well if you be prepared to oblige me?"
"Of course, Sir," she responded with a curtsey and dropped to her knees busying herself with unfastening my breeches. Given her dexterity it was not long before she had freed my member from its confining undergarments and was busily enticing it to fullness through the careful application of her lips, tongue and teeth. Nicola watched quietly, apparently studying Horatia’s technique carefully so that she could apply the same skills herself at some later date. I allowed Horatia to complete her work. My satisfaction at ejaculation was complemented by the care with which she licked my member clean at its de-tumescence. Nicola seemed intrigued rather than shocked or scandalised but then it was time to dismiss both women; Horatia to her husband and Nicola to her cage.
After her day of assigned debauchery, Nicola returned to her routine of housemaid and domestic tasks in the mornings, practice with the mechanisms in the afternoons and cultured discourse during the evenings.
On the third morning, Nicola was crouched at the fireplace when I entered my study. Most houses, I realise, are now equipped with an arrangement for heating using a central boiler and a system of heated water pipes but I prefer the more traditional methods. It was always one of her first morning tasks to clean the previous day’s ashes from the fires and relay them in anticipation of their later use. Nicola busied herself at her task. Her face was smudged with coal dust, her hands grey with the ash from the fire. Hearing me enter, she turned towards me and then dropped her eyes demurely. "Could I say something, Sir," she asked quietly.
Something in her tone suggested that this was not going to be a mere request for guidance on her domestic tasks. I out down the file of papers I was carrying on my desk and sat down.
"Of course," I said.
"In my time here, I Have learned a great deal, Sir. In particular the use of the various stimulating mechanisms has opened my mind to many new ideas. It occurred to me that I should put the benefits of this education at your service. You have invested so much effort in my development but have yet to benefit yourself from it. Perhaps you feel constrained by the fact that you have been retained in this matter by my husband? This need not be the case. If you were to contract for his services to advise you on your own accounts, for example, I am sure he would be happy for me to provide you with some amusement."
I was both amused and delighted. This was exactly the response that I had hoped for from Nicola’s adjustment, a recognition of the contribution that she could make to the development of her husband’s career. I looked down at her eager, coal-streaked face, a strand of hair hung loosely from her mob cap and strayed across her brow. Nothing would have given me greater pleasure at that moment than to upend the delectable Nicola James, push her skirts up around her waist, part her dusky thighs and bury my manhood in her cleft as she sprawled back in the ashes of the hearth.
However, the duties of a tutor require that the progress of the student takes priority over the satisfaction of the teacher.
"That," I said, "is a very well considered proposition. I am most encouraged by your suggestion." I stood up and walked across to where she was kneeling beside the fireplace, leant forward and lifted her chin. Her eyes were clear and bright, she smiled at the approval I had given her. It was the sign that she had finally come to appreciate the contribution she could make to her husband’s life and, as a result, that she was approaching the end of her schooling. I knew that the worse thing I could do at this point would be to accept her proposition. She would no doubt be in a state of heightened sexual arousal, and the most effective reinforcement of her correct behaviour was to have her ride the orrery once more while still in the full understanding of her acceptance of her role. It was one of the hardest decisions of my professional career up to that point, but I knew that the ministrations of the mechanism must take precedence over my own desires.
"I am afraid, though I must demur," I said. Nicola looked downcast but, to her credit, made no attempt to ask why or, worse still, argue. "Your offer is entirely appropriate. I wish you to spend time on the mechanism considering in how many ways you could bring these same ideas to serve in your home life. Please, finish here and then take yourself down to the mechanism. I shall come and secure you and set it in motion shortly."
"Yes, sir," Nicola said with a compliant bob of the head. I was pleased by her reaction.
In the evening four days later, Nicola was dressed as usual in late Victorian style. She was heavily corseted in the most substantial of Madame Genoux’s creations. She wore a thick green velvet skirt that skimmed her hips and followed the line of her legs until flaring slightly in the manner of a trumpet from above her ankles to the floor and a matching green jacket that fitted tightly at her waist, flared out over hips and clung closely to her torso. The pale silk of a high necked blouse showed inside her jacket. Nicola’s dark hair piled high on her head let two ringlets fall either side framing her face in front of pendant jade earrings that reached almost from her lobes to her shoulders.
"Do you believe I am making progress, Sir?" she asked demurely.
"Not are making," I replied, "but have made. I think you have completed your time with me, now."
"Really? Can this be? Am I to return to my Meriel?"
No sooner had she spoken than there was a ring on the doorbell. Nicola looked at me in anticipation. "Answer it," I said.
The delight with which Nicola greeted her husband was unconcealed. The two stood in close embrace for minutes in the hallway not speaking but crushing each to the other. Finally the two, both beaming, appeared in the parlour.
"I have to thank you most sincerely," Meriel began, his wife standing beside him quietly smiling, holding his hand but saying nothing.
"Please," I said holding up my hand. "It is not necessary."
"But, the change you have wrought in her appearance alone. I would swear she has grown a foot in height. She has always been a beautiful woman in my mind but now she seems to radiate beauty and calm. I stand in awe of your methods."
"Mr James, my efforts are but to focus that which your wife has within her. She will, I am sure prove to be the wife and helpmate you desire and deserve. She has been a most attentive pupil. I am sure that together you will be greatly successful."
The James’s thanked me once more and took their leave. I felt an emptiness, the same feeling that I always have when one of my pupils leaves me. The house seems empty. I returned to the basement to ensure that all was well arranged. The door to the cage that had been Nicola’s home stood ajar, purposeless. I saw something on the floor under the edge of the cage. I bent to pick it up. It was a splinter of wood from the broken chair, missed in the cleaning of the cellar after Nicola’s outburst at discovering Horatia Allenby was to be sent to Mr James. I held it for a moment, a reminder of the spirit of Nicola James and the extent to which she had been able to transmute herself at my hands.
I turned to the room where the mechanism was installed, removed the stimulators and the intricate rubberised penises for cleaning. I rubbed the brass parts with a soft cloth, restoring a gleam to them and checked the hydraulic reservoirs. All was well. The machine would be ready when next I needed it.
© Freddie Clegg 2011
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