Chapter Five

Life in Chastity

During the following week I became more and more nervous about the prospect of taking three punishment sessions from Christine. She seemed to have an unusually creative mind when it came to thinking up ways of making me suffer. But then on the Wednesday I had a surprise email from Laura. The two of them had been asked to attend a teaching workshop on some aspect of the National Curriculum over the weekend. It was in Manchester and she said Christine had specifically allowed me a temporary reprieve from punishment. The thought of the two girls spending the weekend together – sleeping together away from home – was very uncomfortable. But what could I do? And why was it so different from them living together anyway?

It occurred to me that I would not see Laura the weekend after that also. I was due to return home for an old school friend’s birthday party. It was a “lad’s booze up” evening from which Laura had demurred, so I was going solo. That meant I would now be trapped in this wretched chastity device for three whole weeks! Of course I had the key – but Laura and Christine were adamant that I was not to use it except for sessions in the gym, or squash where changing would be a problem. And to make sure of my compliance Christine warned me she would be conducting random “Fire Drills” like the one she’d run on Sunday evening. Apart from lectures I could be called at any time and asked to prove that I was still in chastity.

“John,” Laura told me on the phone, “I know it’ll be difficult for you at first. But you know the thought of you in chastity is such a turn for me, and for Christine. And I promise you, my darling, that I will make it worth your while.”

“But three weeks Laura…sorry Mistress,” I said, rather pathetically, “it’s such a long time. Please can I be allowed out to masturbate, just once? Please?”

Laura paused before answering, “Do you love me, John?” she asked.

“Of course I do darling, you know I do,” I replied immediately.

“Then will you do this for me? Please?” She sounded so sweet. So lovely, and I wanted to be with her so much.

“I’ll try Mistress,” I said finally.

“John, listen carefully to me, darling,” Laura said. “When we see each other I’m going to be asking you if you’ve kept your promise to me like I did last weekend. And I’ll be looking you in the eye when I ask. Do you really think you can lie to me, John?”

“No Mistress,” I said sadly.

“I know for sure that you can’t, sweetheart,” she said softly, “you never could. And please believe me when I tell you it’s one of the most wonderful things about you because I will always know. Always. You can never, ever lie to me, John. Never.”

“No Mistress,” I repeated.

“And if you decide to let me down, John,” she said, “if you break this promise to me, what do you think is going to happen?”

“You’ll be very angry, Mistress,” I answered, knowing it would be a lot more than that.

Laura laughed. “No John! What will happen is that you will be on the next bus back to university and we will not be seeing each other ever again. Do you understand me? I want you to understand because now it’s totally up to you, my love. The future – our future – is in your hands. Quite literally!” She giggled at her own joke.

“I promise, Mistress. I promise you,” I whispered. “I love you so much, Laura.”

“I love you too, John,” Laura answered, “and there will be a reward for you, darling. Please believe me on that. If you can get through these three weeks, it will be quite something, my love. I promise you. I won’t let you down.”

The thought of a “special session” was intriguing. Christine had shown an incredible aptitude for cruelty, and yet even as she seemed to be pushing me up to my limits, I could sense those limits expanding. Looking back on the various acts of cruelty and humiliation the girls had inflicted upon me so far I found myself longing to be back under their control. I loved the way Christine seemed to be playing the “bad cop” act, and allowing Laura to give me my rewards. I also knew that three weeks of abstinence would be murder, and yet it would build up such a huge sexual tension that I could look forward to new levels of sensual pleasure. Anyway, that’s what I told myself. Suddenly I had an idea.

“Mistress, may I ask you a favour please?” I asked hesitantly.

“Of course, John,” Laura answered.

“Can I send you the key?” I begged. “I don’t want it, Mistress. I don’t trust myself. I’m already feeling on edge, needing to…well, you know.”

“But what if you feel uncomfortable in it? And how will you deal with your gym, and squash?” she asked.

“Well I can handle the comfort part, I’m sure. And I can figure something out with the gym. I can change here in my room. I’ll manage somehow. I just don’t want this damn key!” I said confidently.

“Well, if you’re sure,” she said. “We left it with you for emergencies. We didn’t know if you could take being locked up. But if you’re really sure, I suggest you send it by recorded delivery – we don’t want it getting lost. Send it to the school address because we’re not in to sign for it at home.”

She gave me the school address. I knew that if I hurried I could get to the post office before the end of lunch hour. I just wanted to be rid of the damn thing.

On the Thursday something even stranger happened. Dave and I were coming out of the Chemistry building at lunchtime and sitting on the wall outside was…Amy! I almost didn’t recognize her because she was so bundled up against the chilly February day. She had her scarf pulled up over her nose like a bank robber, but I could recognize her eyes anywhere. I dragged Dave over to where she was sitting.

“Amy!” I was beaming. “What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” she asked. “I’m freezing to death while I’m waiting for you!”

She stood up, pulled the scarf down from her red nose and leaned in to kiss my cheek. She held the kiss for a few seconds and stroked my cheek gently with her lips. I realised I’d reached around her and was hugging her.

Dave cleared his throat noisily.

“Oh sorry!” I said. “Amy, I was very rude the other night. I totally forgot to introduce you to Dave – who claims to be my best mate. Dave this is Amy – who claims to be interested in kinky sex.”

Dave gave a puppy dog grin and shook hands with Amy. “Pleased to meet you properly Amy,” he said. “John won’t shut up about you.”

I thumped Dave on the shoulder and said, “Go and process some toxic waste in the cafeteria, will you? I’ll see you in PhysChem at two o’clock, OK?”

Dave grinned as he headed off to lunch. “Bye Amy! Be gentle with him!” he called as he left.

Amy leaned back into me and shivered. “I made some sandwiches,” she told me. “I didn’t know if you’re a veggie so I made cheese and pickle. It’s whole meal bread, and I used a low calorie spread. Is that OK for your diet?”

“Gosh, you really think of everything!” I said. “I love cheese and pickle, oh, and I’m not a veggie.”

“I’ll know next time,” she said, smiling.

“Right,” I said, so she was expecting a next time? “Err. It’s a bit cold for a picnic Amy.”

“Aha! I have a cunning plan,” Amy chuckled. “The Ergonomics Building is just up the hill and there’s a nice open space room we use for big projects. There are bean bags and stuff for hanging around, but there’s usually nobody there at lunchtime.”

I was a bit uncertain about the idea of continuing to see Amy, but I slid my hand through her arm and we walked off together. I told myself, “it’s only lunch”, and she had gone to the trouble of making sandwiches. And as it turned out she’d brought a couple of packets of crisps, some fruit, and a couple of cans of Diet Coke.

“I got you Diet Coke because I know you said you’re on a diet. Actually I feel a bit silly about the crisps come to think of it,” she said, smiling as she offered me the can.

We chatted about ourselves. We did the “favourites game” – favourite book, favourite movies, favourite meal in an Indian Restaurant. “Chicken Tikka Masalla,” I said immediately. “And I’m craving one! I can’t eat Indian food while I’m on this bloody diet!”

“CTM? No way! God that’s so boring! I thought you were supposed to be Mr. Interesting?” she squealed.

“No,” I pointed out reasonably. “It’s you who thinks I’m Mr. Interesting. Anyway I’m sure there’s a law of physics that says for every particle of interesting-ness there has to be an equal and opposite particle of…well I don’t know, Gordon Brown or something.”

She giggled. “But CTM? That verging on being middle aged!”

We continued to banter as we ate our way through the picnic. God, I really loved spending time with this girl! But as we finished up the food Amy launched her first broadside. “So Dave says you talk about me all the time? It’s funny because since Sunday you haven’t actually bothered to talk to me.” She hadn’t said it in a nasty way, but I could hear the sadness in her voice.

“Look Amy, this is really sweet of you – the picnic – is lovely,” I said, “but you know we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“John, I had a lovely time the other evening,” she said, squeezing my hand gently. “I know I seemed a bit upset when you left, but it was a lot to take in. I was wondering if we can just…”

“Just be friends?” I interrupted. “Isn’t that a bit of a cliché?” I was smiling to try and take the sting out of my words.

Amy lowered her eyes and began to fiddle with her Coke can. I reached over and took her hand. “Amy,” I said quietly, “it would be a privilege to ‘just be your friend’, but do you really think we can keep it at that level? I mean, I know I’m a man and somewhat limited in the relationship department, but even I recognize that there’s a lot more to this than ‘just friends’.”

She looked up at me. I could see a spark of excitement in her eyes. “So you think there’s more to this!” she said. “I think there’s more to this. Maybe there really is more to this?”

I shook my head in frustration. “Yes, I do think there’s a lot more to this, and that’s a bad thing! I just don’t see how it can work between us. I don’t see how we could carry on without somebody getting really hurt. And it’s going to be you that gets hurt Amy – think it through. I’m in a relationship already. I’m not committing any infidelity as it stands.” I snorted. “And I’m physically prevented from doing that anyway, even if I wanted to!”

She squeezed my hand. “Do you really think you’re not being unfaithful to Laura right now? Just because we haven’t had sex? I assume you’re happy to tell her about this little picnic, aren’t you?”

I knew she was right. It was all moving very fast. I nodded to concede her point. “Wait,” I said, “let’s think about this. The only reason you were interested in me was because you overheard a remark about my kinky sex life. Now you’re telling me that you want to get involved with me. And that will effectively end that kinky aspect of my life, because I’m not the kind of guy who can juggle two relationships. So let’s say I was willing to end it with Laura – just suppose. You and I would not have that kind of relationship. So doesn’t that turn me back into a boring guy that you’d never dream of asking out for a drink in the first place?”

“No it doesn’t!” Amy was getting agitated. She clung to my hand even tighter.

I raised my eyebrows in an “are you sure?” kind of way.

Amy sighed, and looked down at our hands. “No it doesn’t,” she said more quietly now – emphasizing the point with a shake of her head. “You’re right that I came over to talk to you because of what I overheard. Well, I used it as an excuse to talk to you really. It sounded…unusual. But when we started talking, when I really got to know you it was you I started to like.”

I thought about that for a second. I really wasn’t getting through to her. “OK,” I said slowly, “then let me put it another way. Would you go out with a guy if he was already seeing a girl? Engaged to a girl in my case.” I knew this point would hit home, but it was only later I’d find out just how close to the mark I was. Amy shook her head slowly, her eyes still locked on our hands.

“So why is this different?” I continued gently. I was stroking her hand with my thumb, trying to stop her from cracking, but I knew she was on the verge of tears. She seemed to be getting almost too upset about this. Either she was an emotional wreck – which didn’t seem that likely – or there was something she wasn’t telling me.

“It shouldn’t be different. But it is,” she whispered, “I don’t know why.”

At that moment I so wanted to bring her to me and kiss those soft lips. I wanted to hold her and tell her it would all be OK. But I knew I couldn’t do that. I had to be a bastard, I had to tell her it was over – that it could never really begin in fact. I knew I had to – but I also knew I would hate myself for hurting her. It was killing me to see her just sitting there looking so…so sad.

“Amy,” I said quietly, “I’d like to give you a hug, because I can’t stand seeing you so upset. But please don’t think there’s anything more to it. I just…” Before I could say any more, Amy shuffled over and buried her head in my chest. I felt the sob before I heard it. I put my arms around her and just held her for a minute or so. Then I had to ask… “Amy, I really can’t believe you’re getting this emotional about some guy you met the other day. Is there something you aren’t telling me?” I asked.

She gave a big sigh. “I’m sure there are loads of things I’m not telling you but could you just shut up now and let me cry?”

She cried for about five minutes. Luckily she’d also packed some paper napkins, so I was able to pass them over in a regular stream as she cried, and then blew her nose, then cried a bit more. By the time she was cried out, she’d flopped down with her head in my lap. I just stroked her hair, and tried to dab away the odd tear with a napkin.

“I can feel your thing,” she said and gave a big, snotty sniff. Her head was in about the right position actually.

“Oh!” I said. “Sorry.” This could get awkward. “Amy,” I said gently, “you’re obviously keeping something from me. Are you in an emotional turmoil because you just dumped your boyfriend or something? Is that why you’re getting so upset?”

“He dumped me,” she mumbled through a tissue.

“He’s a fool,” I said without having to think.

“That’s what I told him! Funny that,” she giggled, “but it’s not about Wayne that was before Christmas and I’m over it now. I’m so, so over it.”

“Excuse me a second,” I said, lifting her chin so I could look at her. “You went out with a bloke called…” I paused for dramatic effect, pretending to look queasy. “Wayne?”

Amy broke into a fit of laughing. It was one of those moments where suddenly one emotion flipped over to become another. The giggles wouldn’t stop, and I didn’t help by occasionally repeating the name – “Wayne” – in a horrified tone.

“Oh don’t!” she cried. “You bastard! I peed myself the first time I met you, and I don’t want you thinking I’ve got a problem with my bladder.”

I stayed silent and just stroked her hair while she got the giggles out her system. Finally she sat up and took the last napkin she blew her nose and balled up the paper into the pile of discarded paper on the floor beside her.

She drew her fingers over her face and gave a huge sigh. “You have to have a really good cry every now and then. And now you’ve had me in stitches. It’s a good thing, making a woman laugh,” she said, blinking to clear her eyes.

“Not if she pees her pants because of it,” I pointed out, deadpan. I knew it would trigger another giggling fit, but she’d almost giggled herself dry now.

“Oh God I must look like hell!” she said, looking around for some reflective surface she could use to assess the damage.

“You look beautiful,” I said without thinking. She did look beautiful. “Oh damn! I’m so sorry – that was a selfish thing for me to say.”

Amy sighed and stroked my cheek with her hand. “You have to go in a few minutes, and so do I,” she pointed out.

“I know I should go,” I said., “but I’m not going to leave you upset again. Not again.”

She laughed gently. “I’ll be OK. Girls need to feel the full spectrum of emotions John, my darling! See what you blokes are missing out on?”

I ignored the attempt at deflection. “No,” I said, “I’m not going to leave you like this. I don’t think you hate me enough yet.” I smiled.

“What are you going to do to make me hate you?” she asked.

“I’ll think of something. I’m a man – that’s my job,” I pointed out.

She smiled and sat upright, reached up and stroked her fingers down my cheek again. Then she closed her eyes and took her hand away. Her eyes popped open and she smiled.

“OK!” she said in a businesslike tone. “I’m fine, really John. I have a lecture at two o’clock as well. So let’s get on with our lives, shall we?”

I wasn’t convinced, but she was obviously going to bug out to her lecture anyway. So I sent Amy off to the bathroom to wash her face while I tidied the picnic away – putting trash into a disposable shopping bag, and collecting up the things she needed to take back.

“You’re very well trained,” she said when she came back. “Are you sure you’re not gay?”

I stood up and held the bag with her kitchenware in. I kept the rubbish bag to throw into the bin on my way down the hill. I’d have to run if I was going to be on time. “Absolutely positive,” I said, smiling. “I really have to go. Thank you again for the picnic Amy. It was lovely.”

Amy took her bag and then she leaned forward and pecked me on the cheek. “Goodbye John,” she said, sounding like herself again. “It’s been a rollercoaster, but it’s also been the most interesting two dates I’ve even been on. Thank you.”

I couldn’t think of anything sensible to say to that so I gave a little nod and headed out. I just got to the lecture as the last person was walking in. Dave had saved me a seat and the look he gave me as I sat down was priceless.

“Lost track of time, did we?” he asked sarcastically.

“Not now, Dave,” I told him. “You know that PhysChem always makes me fart, and I’ve just had cheese and pickle sandwiches.”

Dave shook his head and stifled a laugh. And then we immersed ourselves in the fascinating world of Dr. Strachen’s Physical Chemistry lecture.

That first weekend I found myself at a dead end. On a whim I decided to spend as much time as I could reviewing my notes from the first term – most of which I seem to remember I’d spent either drunk or hung-over. I realized my lecture notes were crap. Luckily Dave loaned me his notes before he headed off on a home visit, and in conjunction with a few hours in the library poring over textbooks I started to piece together most of the concepts that I should have learned earlier. Maybe I really could make Laura proud of me.

In the second week my nerves were already a wreck. Every woman I passed caused me to grow hard – until the chastity device reined me in.

Once Laura had received the key, the tone of our phone calls changed dramatically. She would tease me mercilessly telling me how she wished I was there – how she wanted to feel my hot come spilling over her breasts. She’d hold the phone down near her boots so that I could hear the creak of the leather. She’d ask me to say sexy things so she could masturbate while I was listening. And she would sometimes find Christine and force me to listen to them kissing, or worse.

The web calls were dreadfully difficult. I was required to leave my laptop running at night, with my messenger client set to auto-answer. Christine would call – usually around ten or eleven at night. She’d just say “Fire Drill” and I had to jump out of bed and kneel with my hands on my head in front of the camera. She’d keep me there for ten or fifteen minutes, and I’d always have to put the clothes pegs onto my nipples while I waited. At the other end the camera was always off, or blocked with something but they’d leave the mike on, and I could hear them making love.

One session was an exception. It was on the Wednesday night of the second week as usual the laptop sprang to life with Christine’s call. But on the screen I saw Laura was kneeling, like me, with her hands on her head. She was naked, but I could see the chastity device key on a chain around her neck. Her hair was messed up and it looked like she’d been crying.

“Good evening, slave!” Christine said brightly. “How are we tonight?”

“Very well, thank you, Mistress Christine,” I answered, “but Laura looks like she’s been crying, is everything OK?”

“I’m afraid not,” Christine said, stepping in front of Laura. She was dressed in a long black baggy T-shirt – something she might wear for bed. And she had the thin green cane in her hands, flexing it. She moved back towards Laura and reached out with the cane. She hooked it into the key chain.

“You see, Laura has been very naughty,” Christine said, “very naughty indeed. Earlier today I found an envelope that was addressed to you. Laura hadn’t asked my permission to send you anything, so I opened it. She was trying to send you the key back. It was very lucky that I found it, wasn’t it, slave?”

“Yes Mistress,” I answered automatically.

“After all,” Christine continued, “you sent it to us for safe keeping. You knew last week that you couldn’t trust yourself. I’m sure your craving is only getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Yes Mistress, it is.” In fact I was totally obsessed with the idea of wanking now; I was so desperate. I’d been throwing myself into my studies, and my fitness regime to try to take my mind away off the craving.

Christine walked behind Laura and slid one of her hands onto Laura’s breasts. She massaged it gently, causing Laura to close her eyes and moan softly. “I need to punish Laura, slave,” Christine said. “And so I’m going to cane these lovely, soft breasts. But I need your help.”

“Of course, Mistress,” I replied. Help? How could I help?

“I was thinking I would give Laura just twelve strokes – six across each breast,” Christine said, squeezing and pinching the nipple. “That was the number I gave her last time and she seemed to respond well to it but her crime this time is very severe. I think she’s let me down, and she’s let you down too. She was even planning to have a sexy phone call with you when you got the key. Imagine that!” Actually I could easily imagine that. Oh God, why had Christine found the letter?

“So as a favour to you,” Christine continued, “and as a reward for your dedication to your chastity, I’m offering to give Laura another twelve strokes on your behalf. Of course that’s if you’d like me to.”

“Please don’t, John!” Laura cried out. “It hurts so much. I don’t think I can take so many. I was only trying to make you happy.”

Christine yanked on Laura’s hair, pulled her head back and spat in her face. “I did not give you permission to speak!” she said quietly, but firmly. I could hear Laura whimpering softly as Christine twisted her hair.

I knew this performance was for my benefit. But I had to admire the girls’ attention to detail, and their ability to build the tension of the session – even over a webcam.

Christine let go of Laura and looked into the camera. “I’m sorry for the interruption, slave,” she said. “I think you were about to tell me to punish Laura for you, weren’t you?”

I remained silent, uncertain what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Christine said, leaning forward. “Are you still there?”

“Yes Mistress,” I said immediately.

“And what’s your answer?” she asked.

“Would you please punish Mistress Laura for me?” I queried, without even thinking. I heard a gasp from Laura as I said the words.

“Of course I will, slave,” Christine said, smiling, “I’ll leave the sound on so you can hear but I think you might want to plug headphones in. We wouldn’t want your neighbours to hear too much.” She moved towards the laptop at her end and the picture went dark – I think she must have draped something over the camera lens. It occurred to me that she could be faking the whole thing. She wouldn’t really hurt Laura that much, surely! I found my headphones and plugged them into the laptop, taking care to get back into position.

The punishment began. Christine made Laura count the first twelve strokes as normal. It sounded real enough at my end. Laura was begging her to stop by the twelfth stroke. Laura must have a safe word if she was really in too much pain, surely!

“Well those stripes look lovely. I made a nice job of those,” Christine said, “and the next twelve are yours, slave. Laura – after each of these strokes you will thank slave, and not me for the stroke. You will apologize for your weakness, and you will ask him for the next stroke. I will deliver it for him. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress,” Laura sniffed.

I heard the cane swish and smack onto Laura’s breast. She gasped but immediately said “One! Thank you, my love. I’m so sorry for being weak. Please give me another.”

My whole body tingled with shame as she spoke. I reminded myself it had to be faked. Laura wasn’t really being caned. Christine delivered the next one.

“Aaah! Two. Thank you, my love. Forgive me for being weak. Please give me another.”

Another swish and slap.

“Oh God, it hurts! Three. Oh, thank you my darling. I should never have given in to my temptation I only wanted to make you happy. Please give me another.”

Each time she thanked me, Laura’s apologies tore me apart. Here was the girl I loved being beaten while I knelt here helpless. And she was only receiving the punishment because she’d tried to be nice to me. It wasn’t real, I told myself. It couldn’t be.

Finally Christine delivered the twelfth stroke of this second set. Laura was sobbing freely now.

She moaned as the cane hit her. “Ohhh. Twelve. Oh John, my darling, I love you so much. Please forgive me. I was weak, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t be weak again.”

I had to admire Christine’s sadistic mind as she was certainly making this very realistic. Of course I knew that she’d caned Laura’s breasts in the past, but she didn’t seem to do it very often. I was sure this must be a faked punishment. That’s why she’d blocked the camera.

Just then Christine removed the blockage from the camera. I saw Laura still kneeling in front of the camera but now I could see the sweat glistening off her body, and the red criss-cross lines across her skin. Jesus Christ it had all been real after all! I felt my stomach churn. I thought I might be sick.

“Laura!” I gasped. “Oh God! I thought she was faking it! I’m so sorry!”

Christine unfastened the chain and took the key from Laura’s neck. She walked towards the camera and held it up for me to see.

“I think it’s best not to trust her with this in the future – don’t you agree, slave?” Christine asked.

“Y-yes Mistress,” I said miserably. I was still reeling.

Christine nodded and fastened the chain around her own neck.

“It’ll be safer here, slave,” she smiled, “much safer. I’d better get some cream on Laura’s breasts now and I feel very horny after that session. I think she has some work to do on my pussy. Sleep well, slave.”

Before I could say anything Christine reached over and cleared the call. I flopped down to the floor and passed my hands over my eyes. In the CB3000 my cock was desperately trying to expand as much as it could; and I was dripping with juice.

Holy shit, that was the worst mind-fuck that Christine had ever pulled! Those marks were real. They looked real anyway. They weren’t there before she started hitting Laura, then they were, and I’d told her to deliver double the punishment! I scrambled up to the keyboard and opened my email client. For the next ten minutes I tapped in a desperate apology to Laura. I’d call her the next day, if she’d accept the call.

When I’d finished the email I staggered over to the bed. When would they let me out of this thing? When? Despite feeling terrible that Laura had endured all that pain, that session had been so erotic and I couldn’t do anything to pleasure myself. By now Christine would be rubbing cream gently into Laura’s burning skin. And then Laura would have her face deep in Christine’s pussy. I slid into bed, shaking like a leaf, but sleep did not come.

The next day I managed to speak to Laura at lunchtime.

“I’m so sorry!” I told her. I was almost crying on the phone.

“I was just trying to be nice to you, John,” she said quietly. She sounded so subdued. “I know how you must be suffering. I thought if you could unlock yourself we could have a nice, sexy chat on the phone. Remember how we used to do that?”

“I remember,” I whispered. “Are…are you OK?”

“Yes,” she said bleakly. “I’ll be fine, really. It was…it was a bit of a challenge. Especially the second set. Christine was aiming right for my nipples on a few of the strokes. It really hurt. I’ve never seen her so angry at me.”

“Christ Laura, why didn’t you use your safe word?” I asked her. “That’s what it’s supposed to be for, isn’t it?”

“I… I suppose I w-wanted to be strong for you,” she said. She sounded like she was crying. “Christine told me I’d b-been bad and let you down. I had to take my punishment, John. For your sake.”

“This is fucking mental!” I was shouting now, stomping up and down as I spoke. “Laura, you need to stop this! It’s gone too far.”

“It’s fine, John,” Laura said, more firmly now. “It’s only a week and a half and we’ll see each other.” I heard a sniff at the other end of the phone. “I miss you so much!”

“I miss you too, darling!” I said, trying to pour all the feeling I could into my words. “I love you.”

“I love you too!” Laura said. “I have to go sweetheart. Take care. I’m so looking forward to kissing your lips when you arrive next week. I can’t wait! I want you so much!”

“Me too!” I gasped, on the edge of tears myself now.

We said goodbye and I stared at the phone. Nine more days, nine more fucking days!

On Saturday morning I took the train up to Liverpool, then the local metro to Birkenhead and finally walked the mile or so to my Mum and Dad’s flat. One of my best mates from school, Mark, was having a birthday celebration and had organized a pub crawl around Birkenhead on the Saturday. It had been a while since I’d seen my parents, so there were the usual pleasantries and questions about my course, and about Laura.

“When are we going to see Laura again, John?” Mum asked. “We thought we might see her at Christmas. She sent a lovely card. There’s nothing wrong between you two is there?”

“No Mum,” I told her. I explained about Christine’s Dad, and how Laura had spent time with her to help. Mum knew all this anyway, but social customs dictated I had to repeat it all.

“That’s so good of her,” Mum clucked. “She’s such an angel that girl. You’re very lucky you know!”

“Yes Mum,” I agreed. If only you knew what a little angel Laura really is, I thought.

My Dad and I talked about the course, and I told him I’d been working a lot harder. Both of them had been disappointed by my dropping out last year. At least I should do better for them now, I thought.

Mum commented on how much weight I’d lost. My Dad told me that because of cutbacks there’s be no student jobs at the factory where he worked at Easter, and probably not in the summer either. That was a blow. I’d been hoping to get some cash from working to stop my student loan escalating too much. The alternative was stacking shelves in the local supermarket, but that paid less than half as much as factory work.

I called Mark to check on where we were meeting, and then my Dad and I did a quick round of visits to a couple of aunts and uncles who lived close by. He let me drive his van to keep my hand in. There was no way I could afford a car of my own at this stage.

Later in the afternoon I got ready for the pub crawl. At 6.00 pm on the dot I strolled into the Fireman’s Arms, and saw half a dozen of the lads already at the bar. This weekend could easily have been a tricky one for me. I was normally on a strict no-alcohol diet. However, Laura had told me that as long as I maintained my three pound loss per week, and as a reward for sending her the chastity device key I could get as drunk as a skunk tonight. She pointed out that I’d probably throw up anyway, so I might even lose weight!

I said hello and happy birthday to Mark, shook hands with the other lads, and collected my pint from the bar. We stood chatting for a few minutes and then, over Mark’s shoulder I saw a familiar face sitting in a small group of girls at a table in the corner.

“Hey, Joy’s here!” I said to Mark.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “Geoff told her about the ‘crawl and she threatened to gatecrash it with her mates. I’ve already told her to keep clear but you know what she’s like.”

Joy was my first ever serious girlfriend. I’d lost my virginity to Joy. I wish I could say the same for her, but even though she’d been two years younger than me, she had certainly not been chaste at our first tryst. And partly thanks to my stormy relationship with Joy, I’d screwed up my A-levels and not got into university on the first go. That was why I’d ended up at the teacher training college where I met Laura. So in a way I had Joy to thank for my current relationship. Gosh – was that a good thing or a bad thing?

I walked over to the table to say hello. “Joy!” I said. “How are you? You look great!”

“Hi John. Fine thanks,” she answered, sipping at her drink and proceeding to ignore me. A couple of the girls giggled behind their hands.

Well that’s nice. I thought. It’s been at least a year, and that’s all I get. So I turned and headed back to Mark’s group. We’d be moving on anyway after this round. And so it was. We worked our way through town to the Vale on Oxton Road, which used to serve some of the best beer in Birkenhead. It had a bit more competition these days as more pubs were offering real ale. But for old times’ sake I ordered a pint of mild, and Mark and I had a game of darts as we drank. The other lads headed for the pool table.

Three stops later we were in the Carlton. I’d been off the booze for a few weeks now, and on my rounds at the bar I quietly ordered alcohol-free beer to try and ease the impact. I even offered to go up to the bar for two of the other guys to get their rounds, and managed to sneak alcohol-free beer in those too.

On the home leg, as we walked into the Black Horse I noticed Joy’s bunch of girls had beaten us there. That was not too surprising as it was their local anyway. Given her cold shoulder treatment earlier I thought I’d avoid any more grief, and stuck with Mark and the lads. This was our eighth stop, and we decided we’d probably spend the rest of the night here, and crash out at Geoff’s place, which was just down the road.

About five minutes after we arrived I felt a tap on the shoulder – it was Joy. Visually, Joy is a lovely girl. About five feet six in her bare feet, or flat sandals, which she often sported during her latter day hippie phase in the late 90s. Raven black curly hair – high cheekbones and piercing grey eyes. Tonight she had on her ‘uniform’ of faded jeans and a white floppy blouse. She’d refused to do much work in school, despite her obvious intelligence, preferring to adopt a more rebellious lifestyle. As a result she’d got crappy GCSE results, and been forced into vocational courses at school.

“You’re not very persistent, are you?” she asked.

I laughed and shook my head in exasperation. “Would you like a drink, Joy?” I offered.

“No thanks, I’ve got one,” she answered. I remembered now how conversations with Joy would spiral into this pit of ‘what the fuck have I done to upset you now’.

“OK,” I shrugged. “So what would you suggest my next move should be?”

“You want me to tell you?” she asked, sharply.

“Joy,” I said as calmly as I could, “I’m here to have a drink with Mark and the lads. It’s his birthday. Let’s just be grown up, shall we? I think it’s lovely to see you again, I really do. You look fantastic. I’d love to ask you how things are going, and what you’re up to but when I tried to make conversation earlier you shut me down. I know it can’t be anything I did because it’s been well over a year since we saw each other properly. So whatever’s wrong, I hope you feel better soon. I really do.” I went to turn away, but Joy grabbed my arm and pulled me over to an empty table. I sat down opposite her.

“You fucking arrogant twat!” she hissed. “You were the one who walked out on me, and you expect me to say everything’s fine?” I had to laugh at that.

“Joy,” I said, “yes, I walked out on you. I may be getting old, but I think I remember what happened the last time we met. I came back from a twelve hour factory shift and found you in bed with another man the week before I went off to teacher training college. It’s not something I’m likely to forget. How is Owen by the way?”

Her grey eyes flashed. “He’s a fucking loser – he tried to get me to…well you don’t need to know, that,” she said. “Anyway, he’s long gone. And besides – you were fucking off to your fancy teacher training and leaving me here. So don’t blame me for wanting somebody to share my bed.”

I took a deep breath. It was so good to talk to Joy again. It made conversations with Christine seem like a walk in the park.

“OK. Right – I’m going back to the lads,” I said, standing up. Joy grabbed my arm.

“Don’t!” she said. The way she said it made me suspicious. Joy never reached out, she wasn’t the type. She had a hard shell, and although I suspected that there might be a soft interior, I’d never been able to find it. Then again, she was still as fit as a butcher’s dog, and the sex had been rather good I remembered. In fact it’d been Joy who’d taught me to take my time with oral sex, and introduced me to the idea of making sure ‘the woman was happy first’.

“Look,” I sighed. “It’s Mark’s night. Let’s not screw it up, eh?”

“You lot are piling over to Geoff’s in a bit,” she said. “Why don’t you slip away and see me?” Joy lived across the street from Geoff.

“But Joy, I’m involved with somebody…” I began.

“You think I want you to shag me?” she said, laughing, and drawing a few stares.

I cringed. It occurred to me that I was probably willing to take so much from Laura and Christine simply because Joy had toughened me up to it.

“You know, Joy,” I said, sharply, “I really don’t know what you want. I’m not going to sit here and take crap from you anymore. I’m walking back to the bar to be with my mates, OK?”

This time she didn’t grab me as I left. I slid into the group again, and Mark pulled me to one side.

“Did Joy tell you?” he asked.

“Tell me what?”

“About Owen getting her pregnant?” he said, slurring quite dramatically.

“What…” I stammered. I looked back at the table and Joy was still sitting by herself, where I’d left her. I walked right back to where she was sitting and flopped into the chair.

“Mark just told me what you were presumably trying to say,” I told her. I moved around next to her and reached out for her hand, but she snatched it away.

“Joy,” I said quietly. “Why are you angry at me? I know it’s the normal thing for girls to be angry at me for some reason, but I’m just curious how you can still be so pissed off for so long.”

Joy was looking down at her hands. She said nothing for a few seconds. Then… “I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I suppose I blame you for me getting involved with Owen in the first place.”

“OK,” I said, smiling. “You know why I’d have a problem agreeing with that line of thought, don’t you?”

She looked up now and I saw the anger in her eyes. “You were at that fucking factory all night, John!” she hissed, angrily.

I shook my head. “Joy. I was on twelve hour night shifts at a margarine tub factory. It was like watching paint dry. No! It was more boring than that! And I did it because I do not want a huge student loan when I graduate. I came home to find you fucking Owen. You made that decision Joy, not me!”

Her face was still full of anger. I knew she was pissed, but it wasn’t me she needed to be angry at. How could I deflect it?

“So what does Owen say about it?” I asked.

She folded here arms and looked away.

“What does he say about it?” I repeated.

She eventually turned back. “He says it’s my fault. I should have been on the pill.”

“I thought you were on the pill?” I asked. “You always told me you were on the pill.”

“Yeah, well I told you that because you hate condoms,” she said flatly.

“What? Jesus Christ, you mean all those times we made love…” I began.

“We were playing Vatican Roulette – yeah,” she laughed, “but Owen won, not you.”

I shook my head. Fuck – she was a piece of work. Then again, more fool me for not taking my own precautions. In hindsight that was a pretty stupid thing for me to forget, given Joy was not exactly pure as the driven snow.

I took a deep breath. One thing that my relationship with Laura and Christine had taught me was to try to consider the female point of view. What would Joy be feeling right now?

“Joy, I’m sure you must be incredibly scared right now,” I began. She shook her head in disbelief, but said nothing. Oh shit! This was fucked up. Even I thought I sounded like a pompous twat. I reached over for her drink. She didn’t stop me as I brought it to my lips and tasted it.

“Plain Coke,” I said, “no whiskey. And I haven’t seen you slip out for a fag all evening. You’re planning to have the baby, aren’t you?”

She took her drink back from me and sipped it. “Maybe,” she said, “I haven’t decided yet. But in the meantime I’m not going to risk it.”

“That’s the right thing to do, Joy. I mean – giving up the booze and fags,” I said. “Would you keep the baby afterwards? I mean, it’s a big step. You’re only eighteen. You’ve got your…”

“Don’t you fucking tell me I’ve got my whole life in front of me,” she said. “You sound like my Gran.”

Joy’s grandmother was the only stable influence in her life. Her mum was a divorcee, working two jobs and with a different boyfriend every week. Joy’s older sister, Karen, had gotten pregnant herself when she was sixteen. She had a lovely little boy – Dylan. Joy’s family was a Daily Mail snapshot of modern, working class Britain.

“I don’t know what to do, John,” she said, suddenly sounding very young, and very scared. Well, she had a right.

I glanced back over to where the lads were at the bar. The guys were lining shots up on the bar for Mark now. We’d probably need to carry him back to Geoff’s. There were four other blokes who could manage him without me.

“Wait here, Joy,” I said. “I’m just going to tell Mark that I’m walking with you back home. I can stay with you for a bit, but I’ll need to go back over to Geoff’s. It’s not fair on Mark.”

“I know,” she said, looking down at the table. “Thanks, John.”

Joy’s room was different somehow. It took me a minute. “It doesn’t smell of cigarette smoke!” I said.

“Mum and Karen have given up ‘cos they’re so expensive these days,” she said. “And I’d already given up before I knew I was pregnant because they nagged me into it. Anyway, fuck the lecture. Would you like a coffee?”

“Yes, please. Let me help you,” I offered.

She chuckled and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m not an invalid, John – I’m just pregnant.”

She still wore the same perfume, L’Eau D’Issey. She’d smelled it when we were walking through Boots one day and loved it. I bought it for her birthday.

“You smell nice,” I said automatically.

“You should know,” she said softly, kissing me on the lips now.

“Go and make my coffee woman!” I ordered with a grin.

I knew I couldn’t let this get out of hand. Apart from anything else I was locked in my chastity device. I wondered what might have happened between us if I hadn’t been.

Joy came back a few minutes later with some coffee and biscuits – Chocolate Hobnobs! Oh God, the most delicious biscuits ever created! But I had to resist them. They were calories on a plate!

“Have you been on a diet?” Joy asked. “You’re looking very trim. You should buy new clothes, those are hanging off you.”

“Thanks!” I said, recognizing one of Joy’s twisted compliments. “Yes I’ve been on a diet and doing some training –Laura’s orders.” I grinned.

“She’s got you on a tight leash,” Joy said, munching a Hobnob. If only you knew sweetheart, I thought. Joy always had eaten like a horse, and yet she had a figure that a model would die for. I always put it down to her smoking – and that she seemed to be a bag of nerves most of the time. We talked for a while about the university and I gave her a heavily edited version of my relationship with Laura.

“Are you two actually going to get married?” she asked. “Has she really convinced you that she’s the one?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Oddly I’m more obsessed by her than ever, but at the same time I’m less confident that we’ve got a future together. I don’t know if I deserve her really.”

“Oh?” she asked, reaching for another biscuit. She caught my glance. “Eating for two.” She smiled.

I turned the topic to Joy and her future. She had screwed up her GCSE exams at the same time as I’d screwed up my A-levels. But I’d had the drive to work through the problem. Joy had ended up in a vocational college studying beauty therapy. Her mum worked in a hairdressers anyway, and Joy got part time work there at the weekends.

“Whatever happened to your idea of joining the Army?” I asked. She’d raised the idea a couple of years before. At the time I’d been a keen Army cadet at school, and even thought about joining up myself. Joy had been really interested in the literature I’d brought home from the Army recruiting people.

“As if I could do that now,” she said, shaking her head, and pointing to her tummy.

“Why not?” I asked. “Why not have the baby, put it up for adoption, and join up? Before we split up the Army seemed to be something you were really keen to do. Actually I found you more interesting because of that.”

“Oh, did you really? I just assumed you liked to fuck me. Anyway you can dream on,” Joy said, “I need technical GCSEs to get onto the specialist trades courses.” She looked down into her coffee cup. “I wanted to be in REME, but with no qualifications…”

“Then get the fucking qualifications!” I said, getting annoyed at her now. “Fucking hell Joy, you’re one of the brightest people I know. But you’re bone idle, and it’s not like you’ve got a lot of role models here for inspiration. Now you’re pregnant you’ll qualify for fifty different kinds of benefits. Don’t tell me that there aren’t education courses for you because I know there are. Set yourself a goal. In a year you should have the qualifications you need to get where you want to be to join the Army, and you can see the baby settled with a nice family. Bloody hell – why not ask the Army recruiting people’s advice? Find out what you need to do, and do it. They’re desperate for recruits – especially in technical trades. And girls like you are like bloody gold dust for them.”

I saw her hand trembling. I wanted to reach out and hold her but I knew that wasn’t a good idea. It would spiral out of control – it always did with Joy.

“It’s…it’s so hard, John. On my own,” she said. I’d never seen Joy cry, and she wasn’t crying now, but she was on the edge. Maybe crying would be good for her.

“You’re not on your own,” I said. “Why don’t we go and see your Gran together tomorrow? It’s ages since I’ve seen her. We can tell her what you’re planning to do I know she’ll keep pushing you. She’d love you to join the Army.”

“She really likes you,” Joy said, smiling again, “said I was a fool to lose you.”

“Let’s stay on topic, shall we?” I grinned. “Are you sure you want to have the baby?”

Joy looked up at me. I felt my stomach flip as I looked into her eyes. She was so beautiful. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I know I don’t want an abortion. I don’t think I can keep her afterwards though. I want her to have a good life.”

“You’re saying ‘her’ – do you know that it’s a girl?” I asked.

She smiled. “Not yet – it’s too early. But I can feel she’s a girl. I’m sure of it.”

“What’s it like?” I asked. “To know there’s a life growing inside you?”

“It’s terrifying,” she said, “but it’s wonderful too.”

“You’re so lucky Joy to bring a life into the world. I know you want the best for her. Have you found out about adoption?” I asked. She shook her head.

“But you know who to ask?” I pressed. She nodded.

“I can go and see my social worker next week,” she said. “I missed the first two appointments, so she’s not going to be happy but I’ll definitely go next week.”

I glanced at my watch. Joy saw me.

“I know you have to go,” she said, “but why don’t you come back later? It’ll be nicer to sleep here than in that madhouse.”

I sighed and shook my head. “I can’t, Joy.”

“You want to, don’t you?” she pressed.

“Of course I want to,” I laughed. “Now that you don’t smell like an ashtray you’re sexier than ever. You’re even more beautiful than I remember. But it’s wrong!”

She came to me and eased herself down onto my lap. For a second I panicked – thinking she’d feel the hard plastic of the CB3000, but I managed to open my legs so it fell down between them. Joy slid her arms around my neck and kissed me. It was like I’d never left her. Her curly black hair brushed against my face, her long slender fingers on my cheek.

“You really don’t want me, do you?” she whispered. “You’re not even getting hard.”

“Joy, I do want you,” I said. “It’s not that. It’s about loyalty. It’s something you really should look for in yourself, and in your men.”

I kissed her back, sliding my arms around her slim waist, stroking my hand over her tummy to see if I could feel her bump. She guessed what I was doing and gently guided my hand.

“She’s here,” she whispered. But I couldn’t really feel any difference as I stroked her.

“I’m going,” I said. “I won’t come back tonight. Do you want me to come round before I head home tomorrow?”

“Yes, please,” she said, with another kiss.

She got up from my lap and stood in the middle of her bedroom. I was just about to get up when she started to unbutton her blouse. She looked me in the eyes as she did it, one button at a time. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Then she slid up one leg of her jeans, unzipped the brown ankle boot, and pulled it off.

“I thought you were going,” she said, smiling, and still staring into my eyes. She took off the other boot.

“I am,” I said, not moving.

Joy unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs. She stepped out of them, leaving her wearing only a pair of white cotton panties. Then she slipped those off and threw them at me. I caught them, and put them on the dresser. She stood naked in front of me, and started to caress her breasts.

“Do you think my boobs look bigger?” she asked innocently.

“You read my mind,” I grinned. I couldn’t really remember if they were bigger or not, I just knew that they looked beautiful to me at that moment.

Her nipples were very erect now. Joy had quite small breasts usually, but large nipples. I remember I loved to tease them until they were hard like dried peas. She walked towards me and she reached down for my left hand. She placed it onto her pussy, and guided my finger inside her. She was wet. She rubbed my finger over her clit and then took it away. She moved it towards my mouth.

“It’s all sticky. Lick it clean,” she ordered. I very nearly said, “Yes Mistress”. I put my finger into my mouth and sucked off her juices. I was losing the battle here, I knew it.

“Now put it back where it belongs,” she said softly, stepping closer to me.

I slid my fingers back inside her, she was even wetter now. Her face didn’t show any sign of what I was doing. I gently stroked her clit, and still she just stared at me, massaging her breasts only inches from my face. The sound of my mobile phone made me jump. It was Mark.

“Where the fuck are you?” he shouted. “We just got back to Geoff’s. Did you fuck Joy yet?”

“No mate,” I said, and cleared the call.

I stood up. “OK, I really am going,” I said.

Joy put her hands on my shoulders.

“You’ve got to be joking, surely!” she said. “You’re not leaving this room until I’ve come, you fucking bastard! You may not want to fuck me, but I haven’t had a decent orgasm since I kicked Owen out. Get on your fucking knees and get your tongue out!”

She sat on the edge of the bed and arranged her pillows. I just shook my head in amazement. This was so typical of Joy. Maybe my life wasn’t that different after all? As ordered I got down on my knees and lowered my face into her pussy.

The next day I woke up at about ten o’clock – which was considerably before the rest of the lads. We’d partied until about four o’clock, and by that time we were pretty mellow. Mark was totally smashed – it was his birthday after all. I felt pretty drunk, but my precautions with the alcohol free beer the previous night had paid off. At least I’d managed to avoid a hangover. But that meant I was the official breakfast maker. There was Mark, Geoff and I still left from the crawl, plus Geoff’s brother Pete and Geoff’s dad who also lived in the house. So it was tea and toast for five.

I’d crashed on the couch downstairs, but Mark was up in Geoff’s bedroom. As I opened the door I rocked back with the smell. Geoff was comatose and snoring on his bed and Mark was slumped on the floor – a blanket thrown over him. Mark had been sick in Geoff’s waste paper bin. His aim had been pretty good at least.

I did the round of breakfast deliveries, and then walked over to Joy’s house. She was already up – but still in her dressing gown. I said hello to Karen, Dylan her son, and Joy’s Mum, and then Joy took my hand and led me into their front room. She closed the door and pushed me back against the wall – locking her lips over mine.

“Eewww!” she said. “You taste horrible! Do you want to borrow my toothbrush?”

“Actually that would be nice, thanks,” I said.

“You know where it is,” she smiled. “Mine’s the red one. Would you like a coffee and some cereal?”

“Coffee sounds good. No sugar any more. I’ll pass on the cereal,” I said, and headed upstairs to the bathroom. I locked the door and stripped to my waist. I had a quick wash, and brushed my teeth. When I came down again Joy was waiting in the kitchen with my coffee. She grabbed me and kissed me again.

“Mmm. Much better,” she whispered.

“Did you two do it last night then?” Karen asked. She was fussing around Dylan’s cereal bowl, while the kid seemed to be engrossed in a little hand held video game wearing headphones. “I heard Joy a couple of times. You seemed unusually quiet, John. I remember you used to be quite noisy.”

“John was a passive observer last night,” Joy quipped, “but his tongue came in very useful, very useful indeed.”

“Don’t you fancy her anymore?” Karen asked.

“I do fancy her Karen,” I said, sitting at the table and winking at Dylan – he smiled back from his electronic cocoon, “just like I fancy you, or Jennifer Aniston. But it’s academic, because I’m in a relationship.”

“Which didn’t seem to stop you sticking your tongue in her pussy,” Karen said, munching on a slice of toast. “When was the last time you did that for Jennifer Aniston?”

“I was under duress,” I pointed out.

“Uh huh,” Karen said, turning her attention to the newspaper.

Joy stood behind me and played with my nipples through my shirt. “You still smell like a brewery,” she said. “Why don’t we hop in the shower? I can scrub your back and you can do things to my front.”

I closed my eyes. This wasn’t happening, I thought. “Joy,” I said. “Would you like me to come and see your Gran with you? I told my mum I’d be back home at one o’clock for lunch, and then I’ve got a train at five o’clock. But we’ve got time now.”

“Why’s John seeing Gran?” Karen asked. Joy grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the front room.

“Gran won’t be in this morning,” Joy said. “She goes to see my Granddad’s grave on Sunday mornings. And please don’t tell Karen about what we discussed, will you?”

“No,” I promised. “It’s our secret.”

Joy kissed me again. “Are you coming for a shower? I owe you one. Two actually,” she chuckled.

I reluctantly eased away from her. “No,” I said. “It would be lovely but you know I can’t.”

“Nobody will ever know,” she said.

“I’ll know,” I pointed out. “Look, if we’re not going to your Gran’s I’d better go. There’s a bus in about ten minutes. If I miss that it’s another hour on a Sunday and I don’t think I’m up to walking.”

“One last kiss,” Joy said, moving towards me. I dodged her and stepped into the hall.

“Bye Karen, goodbye Mrs. Wheeler!” I called. I thought Dylan would still be plugged in.

Joy grabbed me at the door. “You’ve turned into a proper little goody-goody, haven’t you?” she asked grumpily.

“Yes I have, Joy. I’m twenty now, and I’ve come over all boring,” I said. I leaned towards her to kiss her, but she turned her head so I kissed her cheek. Then as I pulled away she suddenly turned back and kissed me on the lips.

“Thanks for the chat last night,” she said, avoiding my eyes. She always struggled with gratitude.

“Will you do it, Joy?” I asked. “Will you check out those education options? Get the GCSEs that you need.” She nodded.

“Promise me?” I said, not convinced.

“I promise,” she said, pulling the dressing gown closer around her.

“Bye then,” I said. She nodded again.

As I walked down the path she called, “Goodbye John. Will you come and see me soon?”

I looked back. She was so lovely – even like this on a Sunday morning. “Next time I’m here, I promise,” I said. “And Joy – I’m not going to abandon you. But you do need to think how you can talk to me as a friend.”

Late that evening, back in my room at Loughborough I considered the events of the weekend. How unfaithful was I for having licked Joy’s pussy? She was in need after all, I thought. She’d wanted me, and I’d wanted her. And my chastity device had stopped me from going any further. OK, maybe even I knew I’d broken a rule there. Yes, a big rule. I knew I’d face a problem if I ever chose to describe this interaction to Laura – or even worse, to Christine.

My first challenge arrived that very evening of my return. The mobile phone call to Laura began as normal. “Hi Laura, it’s me,” I said.

“Hello, slave,” Laura chuckled. “So how’s your head?”

“Actually it’s not bad,” I answered. “I didn’t want to get too drunk, so I tried to substitute alcohol-free beer whenever I could.”

“My goodness!” Laura said. “That’s very commendable.”

“Yes Mistress,” I replied.

“Is there anything embarrassing that you think you need to tell me?” she asked.

“Well I’m not sure where to start Mistress,” I said. In a way I hoped I could overwhelm her with information. “This was a boys’ night out remember, so most everything was pretty embarrassing. For example Mark slept on Geoff’s bedroom floor, and threw up in his bin…”

I described several other potentially embarrassing situations during the evening, tactfully avoiding the subject of Joy. Of course Laura knew very well that Joy lived across the street from Geoff. So I was absolutely expecting the next question.

“Did you bump into Joy on your night out?” Laura asked.

“Yes Mistress,” I answered immediately. I described how Joy had gate-crashed at the Fireman’s Arms, and then how she and I ended up speaking in the Black Horse.

“And did anything happen between you that you’d like to tell me about?” Laura asked.

“Yes Mistress,” I said, confidently. “Joy told me that she is now pregnant with Owen’s baby. As you will remember, Mistress, Owen is the man I found in bed with Joy that caused our breakup.” I explained Joy’s decision to have the baby, and my encouragement for her to pursue her dream of joining the Army under the right conditions.

“Well that’s very noble of you, slave. And you left Joy to go back to Geoff’s house?” Laura asked.

“Of course, Mistress,” I said. “In fact Mark was already impatient that I’d gone to see Joy. And yes, I spent the night in Geoff’s house on the couch.”

Laura paused, and I suspect she spoke with Christine. “And you definitely did not sleep with her – you didn’t spend the night with her in any way – and you know what I mean when I ask that,” Laura demanded.

I knew I was on safe ground here. “No Mistress,” I said, somewhat proudly. But I was quite glad that I didn’t have to look Laura in the eye when I answered these questions.

There was a long pause on the phone line. “And there’s nothing else you think you need to tell us?” Christine asked this time.

“No Mistress,” I replied, “I’m pretty sure I covered the highlights.”

It was Christine’s voice again on the phone. “Good!” she said, and cleared the call.

As I put the phone down I saw my hand was shaking. I hadn’t eaten that much today. I’d managed to just nibble at Mum’s Sunday lunch, and cleared away before she’d noticed. I’d weigh myself tomorrow to make sure I was still on track. Laura told me this would be my last week of dieting as long as I reached my goal. Maybe she’d reward me by releasing me from chastity for a while? Did I dare to hope for that much?