Journey Into Chastity, Book Two The Ecstasy of Denial

Chapter Two-5

“Well that’s quite enough I think,” she said in a matter of fact tone. At least she seemed to be feeling better now. “Let’s get your bag off and see how much we’ve collected.”

She removed the elastic band holding the sandwich bag in place and showed me the contents.

“And you said you didn’t need milking! I don’t know where it all comes from,” she giggled and gave my balls a tweak, “or maybe I do.”

She held the bag out for me and I groaned.

“Laura, do I have to?” I whined. “It was fun at first but it’s getting pretty old…”

I barely got the words out before the slap landed on my cheek. Wow! She didn’t hold anything back with that one! I know the expression “see stars” is a cliché, but my vision did blur a bit, and I couldn’t help staggering back a couple of steps.

“Let’s get something straight, shall we?” she stated, bringing her hand up again and smiling as she saw me flinch. “You will observe your manners with me, even if Christine isn’t here. I’m going to tell her about your insolence. There’ll be punishment for you next time you see her, mark my words.”

I could taste a lot of blood in my mouth and I had to swallow to get rid of it. I think she’d caught my cheek against a tooth or something. It kept bleeding as I moved my mouth.

“Yes Mistress, I’m…” I felt a trickle of blood leak out of my mouth as I said it.

“Oh f**k, John, you’re bleeding!” Laura shrieked, and brought her hands towards my face. I couldn’t help flinching and I saw her face crumple at my reaction.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry! I’m really sorry, darling, please, I didn’t mean…” she was frantic.

“Hey, it’s OK!” I grinned, and she put her hand to her own mouth as she saw my bloody teeth.

“I’ve had much worse on the rugby pitch, really!” I tried to assure her, but she was crying solidly now, her shoulders were shaking with sobs, and she held one of my hands in both of hers.

“I’m so sorry, John! I got carried away. I’m still not feeling right. I will never do that again, honestly. Please…”

“It’s OK,” I said again, holding her trembling shoulders as she cried. “Listen love, you need to calm down. Look it’s stopped bleeding already.”

I saw Laura’s face go pale, and she turned quickly and went to the sink. She threw up the toast and orange juice I’d managed to get down her and she stood there, dry heaving – still wearing the strap on. I went over to her and tried to keep her hair out of the way at least. It had been caked in sick when she threw up in the early hours of the morning, and she’d washed it in the shower once already. She managed to stop the convulsions and I got her to sit down. I soaked a flannel in water and wiped around her lips. Then I filled a glass and told her to rinse out her mouth. She was distraught about hitting me so hard, but eventually I managed to calm her down. She walked over to her bag and pulled out a small bottle. It contained a grey, cloudy gunk and I suddenly remembered Christine’s threat.

“I was supposed to make you drink this last night,” she began, “but obviously I had other things on my mind. Christine reminded me about it.”

She unfastened the top and I groaned inwardly. I hated this f*****g stuff, and frankly the only way I’d got through it in the past was to be sexually charged and right now I wasn’t in the mood at all. But before I could even begin to protest Laura went over to the sink and poured the contents of the bottle away. Then she threw the sandwich bag containing my milking fluid into the bin.

“For goodness sake, never tell Christine I did that,” she said, stifling a sob.

She came over and started to sit on my knee. Then she noticed she was still wearing the strap-on and she stood up again to slide it off. By this time I’d lain back on the bed and was holding out my arms. So she lay down beside me and nuzzled into my chest.

Laura was silent for a couple of minutes.

“I’m so sorry I hit you, John, I don’t know what I was thinking, really. Are you sure you’re OK?” Her voice was muffled by my shirt; I could feel warm tears soaking the front of it.

“I’m fine, darling. You don’t need to be upset. I agree, it’s probably not a good idea to hit people as hard as that on the face, but please don’t dwell on it. I’m perfectly OK. The bleeding’s stopped, no permanent damage, well apart from…”

Laura’s head shot up from my chest. “Apart from what?”

“Apart from the fact that you broke my heart when you fell asleep on me last night.” I smiled.

She punched my chest softly with her hand and started to lean up for a kiss. Then she stopped.

“Hang on,” she said, and slid off the bed to go and wash her face, and clean her teeth. She was back two minutes later and she gave me a nice, minty kiss.

“I really should go, my darling,” she told me. “I’m so sorry, but I want to get home and get to bed. Do you hate me for ruining your big weekend?”

I sat upright. “Is that what you think happened? Are you kidding? You were the one who made last night special. I felt like some kind of rock star with you on my arm. I was so proud of you. Not only did you look like a million dollars, but you charmed the pants of them all with your playing and singing.”

Laura blushed and smiled.

“I might have made a half decent speech for five minutes,” I continued, “but when they talk about last night they’ll say something like ‘do you remember that fellow who made the vote of thanks – had a fiancée who looked like a film star, and she sang like a nightingale.’ That’s what they’ll say. All because of you.”

Laura sat down next to me and laid her head on my shoulder.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I love you too.” I kissed the top of her head, and then noticed that despite my efforts, a small dollop of sick had attached itself to a lock of her hair. Fortunately Laura had some wet wipes in her bag, and I was able to remove the mess without the need for another hair wash. I suggested we take a taxi down to the bus station but Laura fancied a walk to clear her head. I carried both of her bags to help out.

“Listen, darling,” I said as I helped her onto the bus, “I put two empty shopping bags in the outer pocket of the black bag. If you feel queasy you can use them to throw up into, OK?” A nod. “There’s a pack of Tylenol in the same pocket, and a bottle of isotonic sports drink. Please drink that instead of just water. You need your sugar and electrolytes. You had your last tablets at…” I checked my watch “12:45. So you can take two more at about five o’clock, OK? Please don’t be tempted to take them before because it’s easy to overdose. And don’t take aspirin or ibuprophen today because they’ll be too hard on your tummy.”

Laura gave me a weak smile. “Anything else, Mum?” she joked.

“Yes. I love you.”

Her smile lit up as I said it. She gave me a big hug and then she was on the bus and on her way home.

When I got back to my room I noticed Mike’s hacksaw on the table. s**t! I’d meant to stop in and buy a new blade for him on the way back from the bus. I thought I’d better take it back anyway in case he needed it. He’d certainly have spare blades. I picked up a bottle of wine from my shelf. I’d meant us to drink it with a picnic lunch today, but that hadn’t happened obviously. I’d give it to Mike as a thank you.

As I handed him the frame and the bottle he said, “Thanks. So where’s the fuckin’ blade then?”

“I broke it, Mike, just like you said I would. I’m sorry I’ll buy you a replacement when I’m in town next.”

I was amazed by his reaction. Mike’s a skinny, small bloke – probably about five feet nothing. And even though he’s in his early twenties, he’s almost bald on top. He’s perpetually miserable and sarcastic so to see him leaping around with glee was quite amusing.

“I told ya! Fuckin’ chemists haven’t got a fuckin’ clue!” He ranted on for a couple of minutes, doing his little dance. Every other word was some form of “F”. Then he noticed the plaster on my finger – Laura had put it on to replace the blood stained toilet roll – and his joy seemed to go up a notch.

“And did you nearly slice your fuckin’ finger off too! That is fuckin’ priceless! That’s goin’ on the fuckin’ blog that is.”

I sighed and turned away from the bizarre scene to walk back to my room.

“Well then,” I thought, “at least I’ve cheered him up!”

Laura called me an hour or so later to say she’d got home safely, and without further ‘emissions’. I checked that she hadn’t taken the Tylenol too soon, and she told me off for nagging. Then she said she was heading upstairs to bed, told me again that she loved me, and handed the phone to Christine.

“I gather congratulations are in order?” she queried.

“It did go very well actually, thank you. And Laura really knocked their socks off. Honestly Christine, I’ve never seen her looking so beautiful and so elegant. I was so proud to be seen with her.”

“I’m really pleased for you, John. I know you were worried about the speech. It’s a shame Laura got carried away with the booze.” She dropped her voice a level. “She told me about slapping you – are you alright?”

“I’m fine, honestly. She got really upset when she saw she’d drawn blood, but seriously Christine I’ve had much worse on the rugger field. I told Laura the same thing and I meant it. It’s obviously best not to repeat the incident for the sake of my teeth, but there’s no harm done. Let’s forget about it.”

“Well I’m glad you’re OK. And I’m very glad that you had such a good evening last night. Forget about fire drills for a couple of days, eh? After all, the reason I love to do them is to have you imagining me screwing Laura while you’re kneeling there like a fool. And given Laura’s condition I don’t think she’ll be feeling randy any time soon. At least it’ll get her mind off the idea of picking some random man to screw.”

“Yeah. Good point. But you will let me know that she’s OK though?” I asked.

“Of course. Now you go and enjoy yourself. Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, Mistress Christine.”

In our usual Sunday night ritual, Dave and I headed over to the library to get the reference information we needed for the weekly lab write-ups.

I shouldn’t have been too surprised that Amy was there after all that was where I’d met her. She was sitting with the usual group. Since we were likely to be bumping into each other for the next three years anyway, I thought rather than make it awkward we should go over and say hello. I dragged Dave with me.

“Good evening, ladies. You’re all looking lovely tonight if I may be so bold,” I said in a whisper – it was a library after all.

Amy looked up and smiled, but didn’t respond. One of the other girls – Sue, I think – said, “Hi”.

I was a little puzzled by the frosty reception, and I couldn’t help feeling disappointed as Dave and I walked over to an empty table. I assumed Amy was pissed off at me for making her lie to Laura the previous day.

“She’s not happy with you is she?” Dave whispered.

“I can’t blame her really. Do me a favor though mate, let’s not talk about it, eh?”

Dave looked at me for a few seconds, and then got on with digging up references. A couple of hours later Amy and her friends packed up and headed out of the library. She didn’t even come over to say goodbye.

On Thursday afternoon Derek called me to see if I could give him a hand moving some crates around the backroom of the Library Bar. It only took half an hour or so. He wanted to pay me, but I told him I was happy to do it for a mate.

“Listen,” he said as he washed up, “are you in the market for some nice clobber1? I know you normally dress like a tramp, but with that nice young lady after you I think you should smarten yourself up a bit.”