The Mouse That Roared — Fiona Dobson.
I can write about this now, of course, with all that’s happened. At the time I didn’t really think of Alice being so depraved, or sexually confident — depending how you look at it. Although, it has to be said that as she fitted the cold chastity device around my penis ‘liberated’ was not the first word that came to mind.
“I just want you to wear it this afternoon. Just for a while,” she said. “You know we’re going to make love tonight, so this will simply focus your mind a little. And it’s not like anyone is going to know. It’ll be fun. I’m told it will make things even more intense for you. I’m only thinking of you, after all.”
Her slim fingers closed around the lock and it clicked shut, the key swiftly disappearing into her purse. This was her experiment for the day, and she’d ordered the silly device online. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, and it all seemed rather passive to me. I went along with it as it would give her a little bit of excitement and it didn’t really inconvenience me. Giving her this illusion of power was pretty harmless after all.
I like to think I am a good boyfriend. A generous lover. I consider her needs. The days I spent with Alice were, after all, something I looked forward to with anticipation and excitement. Perhaps soon we’d move in together. It certainly looked as though that time was coming.
Power, it’s such a strange thing. If one thinks one has it one is stronger, or so it seems. Even if one is completely wrong, or so I thought. And Alice was an unlikely little dom. I should rephrase that. Alice ‘thought she was a dom’. And I let her play that roll. All one hundred and five pounds of her. When she’d screw up her little fists and say something forceful I’d bite my lip, smile internally and play along. She was like a little mouse but wanted to exercise her strength. And it was fun. Well, up to a point anyway. And so I let Alice have her way and play her little game.
“Now, pull those pants up and let’s get out to the car. We’re already late.”
Alice would insist on dragging me along on her outings with friends in those days. As the only boyfriend to be included in these jaunts I felt quite privileged. Of course, I spent a fair amount of time holding doors open, pulling out chairs for the girls and generally trying to be the man on these excursions. At least, so it was in those days.
This afternoon was to be the art gallery. A Brazilian visiting artist was being exhibited in town, and while she and her three friends gushed over the paintings they’d seen in the catalogue, I didn’t really see why they were so excited. Abstract art isn’t really my thing. I said I’d go along with her more to have the chance to watch Madison, one of her university friends, make a fool of herself. Between her outgoing personality and low cut blouses she was fun to be around, even if I had no idea what she was banging on about most of the time.
It was hardly surprising really. The girls, all of them graduates of the arts program at the university were all well versed in the language, the history and the various different movements in art. I had a passing interest and picked up a phrase or two from listening to their conversations. It was hardly front and centre in my world though. I mean, managing the local branch of Megapharm, the people’s pharmacy, is no small task. Swaning around looking at pictures all day doesn’t get the inventory report back to head office before the start of the weekend.
Not wanting to lose my few days of leave I’d taken this one off, knowing that if I didn’t use it I’d loose it. Being dragged along to the art gallery wasn’t my idea of the best way to spend it, but a little sacrifice now would mean I’d get to the hockey with Brad and Jeff tomorrow night. Alice didn’t mind me having some time for myself, as long as her needs were met, after all.
The upside of the gallery visit was that I would enjoy a beer with the girls in the bar on the roof of the gallery. It had recently been refurbished and was a sophisticated looking place with a lovely patio that afforded impressive views of the city. In the late spring sunshine, with a cold beer glistening in a glass and the girls chirping away like a flock of sparrows a man could sit there and feel quite like a king.
Well, that had been the idea. I kept quiet as I looked at one painting after another, the detail explained by Alice or Maddy with absolute understanding and a deep engagement that left me wondering why to me the images resembled nothing as much as the mess Cesar, my cat, left on the carpet when he couldn’t keep his dinner down. I wondered several times if perhaps they were looking at paintings I had somehow missed. In the end I put it down to their ability to draw something from the artist in a language I simply didn’t speak. I wouldn’t have let the greasy slob of an artist paint the bathroom at Megapharm.
These things are an exercise in patience. I walked along with the girls smiling, nodding, and generally playing along. I either looked like I was fascinated, or an idiot. I did my best to make it the former. Nodding sagely as I stared with feigned interest at yet another cat puke on canvas. I’d through in the occasional, ‘I do like what he’s done with that,’ or ‘how harmonious of him!’ to participate, though the girls would sometimes glance at me with doubtful expressions. I was barely aware of the presence of the steel cage around my penis, and after a while it was quite forgotten.
It wasn’t until we’d completed the circuit of the gallery that we went up to the rooftop and settled into rattan chairs in the dusk, the sun slowly making it’s westward path toward the horizon and spreading the amber light across the metropolis. Condensation reflected sparkles of light on the side of the glass as the girls chatted and I contemplated the glass of lager before me. The twittering of the girls chat slid into the background, only the odd word penetrating my consciousness.
“Secure… very secure…” said Alice, with a knowing look toward her girlfriends.
I wasn’t really listening. Giggles, and Maddy getting up and saying she had to run off. There was some toing and froing about going to the show that had opened at the Grand last week, and then some swapping of books.
“No, take mine,” said Alice, pushing something else on Maddy. “I’ll use your Prada purse. It’s going to look nice with that little burgundy dress. Very sophisticated.”
“Well, all right. But take your credit cards out. I don’t want to mix things up.”
They really are a mystery to me, these women. They will swap costume jewellery and handbags days before an outing, just to look their coordinated best, and then spend four hours getting ready for a night out as though there had been no opportunity to prepare for it. Not like when I go to the hockey game. Still, I suppose that’s why we love them.
With a laugh Maddie kissed each of the girls goodbye and then, to my surprise turned to me and said, “Goodbye, you naughty boy,” and then reached over and tweaked my nose.
I stared wondering what that was all about, as she rose to her feet and click clacked her way across the patio in her patent leather black heels. I looked at Alice in surprise and she smiled at me, knowingly.
The only problem was, I had clearly missed something. I wasn’t ‘knowing’ at all.
There were a couple more drinks, and the girls were pretty tipsy by the time we made our way down to the street level and hailed a cab. More chatter, and Alice’s friend smiling warmly at me. A stop on the way home, some goodbyes, and a peck on the cheek for Alice and myself.
“So brave,” her friend said as she left us, staring deeply into my eyes as if searching for something.
As the cab pulled away and took us the last couple of miles toward our place I turned to Alice and said, “what was all that about?”
“What do you mean?” replied Alice, looking as innocent as a young fawn.
“’So brave’?” I said mimicking her friend.
“Oh, she’s just commenting on the fact that you’re in chastity. She’s planning to have Mike fitted shortly, too.”
“What?” I said in surprise. “You told her?”
The cab pulled up outside our apartment block and Alice climbed out.
“Come along,” she said. “You do want to come up don’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” I said with a good idea of what lay ahead.
“And Maddy is so good. She’s going to be back from LA in three weeks,” said Alice taking her apartment key from the purse she carried. It was the Prada one she’d borrowed from Maddy, black and very elegant.
As I entered Alice’s apartment she told me to have a seat while she changed, and she disappeared into the bedroom. I could hear her humming, and moving about happily. The slide of the wardrobe door, and the sound of a hanger being hung.
“Why don’t you join me in here,” she said at length, and I walked into the bedroom.
Alice strolled across the room, showing off her body, so carefully presented and toying with my growing desire. Seductive to the point of teasing, she leaned over the queen sized bed and then slowly turned to me. A large adult toy lay on the covers and Alice sat upright in her silky white lingerie. I could see some lube on the nightstand, and in her hand she held a black vibrator.
“I want you to sit over there, on that chair,” she said indicating the chair in the corner of the room, smiling softly. “I’m going to let you watch.”
“What do you mean,” I said removing my pants and undoing the buttons on my shirt.
“Well, it’s not like you can do much for me, is it,’ she said to my surprise.
“I don’t understand,” I replied.
“No, you don’t do you.” She glanced at her watch. “The key to your chastity device is currently flying to LA. But don’t worry, it’s going to be back in about three weeks.”
“What on earth are you talking about,” I said, a sense of panic growing.
“You were there when I handed it to Maddy. I was surprised how well you took it, actually. We all were. Still, it’s just three weeks, isn’t it. Now, like I said, I’m going to let you watch.”
“But…”
“Don’t be such a wimp. Besides, you’ll thank me later.”
I was dumbstruck and fell back in the chair as Alice parted her legs and the quiet hum of her vibrator started. She lay back, closed her eyes and murmured softly, “Oh, this is nice. So very nice.”
I need hardly tell you, three weeks is, of course, never ‘three weeks’.
Fiona Dobson
