Thyme II Thyme (13 page)

'No, I'll do them. There are four on each side and you won't be able to bend much, so you won't get the spacing right and that's most important. These things have to look right or else it's all a waste of time and effort.' As she bent to the task, I tested the corset and the restraints it imposed upon my body and found that she was right. The thick rubber, although basically pliant, had been moulded in such a fashion that it formed an all but rigid carcass about me and bending was now all but impossible. I was also beginning to feel as if the top half of my body was separate from the lower half, there being little sensation of connection or support of the latter to the former.

'This must have cost a fortune,' I murmured, running two fingers down the sleek surface. 'What sort of place makes and sells these things?'

'Oh, more than you'd think, though of course it's not exactly what you'd expect to find in your local Marks and Spencer knickers department.'

I imagined my mum, who always bought her underwear from Marks and Spencer, and the expression on her face if she was ever confronted with something like this there, let alone if she saw it on her daughter.

'If you want, and if you like it that much, I can ask how much it is and you can take it home when we leave,' Anne-Marie offered, snapping another garter strap clip into place.

'Yes, okay,' I heard myself say and felt a thrill of guilt, not just at the thought of possessing such a piece of exotica but at spending the sort of money it surely cost. 'I suppose it can be worn with ordinary stockings?'

'Yes, but I'll sort out a couple of pairs of these. Your legs are so long, and they look lovely in latex, don't you think?'

'I can't really tell,' I said modestly, though I had to admit that my legs looked pretty good in anything, or in nothing at all, for that matter.

'Little Miss Rubber Lover,' Anne-Marie said, straightening up at last. 'No, don't deny it, I can see it in your eyes.'

'It's the smell,' I said, wrinkling my nose. 'There's something about it...'

'Yep, you either love it or you hate it, a bit like marmite,' she agreed, 'though I wouldn't want to try wearing marmite, not even in my kinkiest moments.' She turned away and delved into the box to produce a pair of high-heeled rubber ankle boots with thick platform soles.

'That's a bit much, surely,' I said, eyeing them and doing some rapid calculations. 'They'll make me around six-feet-six!'

'Six-eight,' Anne-Marie corrected me blithely. 'Nice and tall, which will make the slave image even more dramatic. People will be drooling over you.'

'The way Andrea drools over Carmen, you mean?'

'The way most people drool over Carmen.' She knelt down and began fitting the first boot to my foot, tightening the laces carefully. 'You know, Teenie, if you wanted to be a dominant you'd be a monster hit. Perhaps you should try it out with Andrea when we get back. She'd grovel at your feet if you told her to.'

'Well, originally I thought Andrea was more dom than sub and I thought the idea was that she did what you told her, not what I said.'

'Well, you're new to all this, so you'll learn. People often change roles back and forth, depending on who they're with and how the mood takes them at the time.'

'Can you be submissive?'

'Sometimes.' She looked up at me. 'Fancy having me as your slave for a weekend?'

'I... I don't know,' I stammered. 'Maybe... yes, maybe I would, but not just yet. I wouldn't know what to do or say.'

'Then you carry on being Teenie slave for a bit and you'll soon learn. Now, other foot, please.'

When she had finished with the second boot I found myself towering over her and feeling very uncertain. When I made to walk, I discovered it required more effort than I had expected for the thick soles seemed to drag behind me.

'They're weighted,' Anne-Marie explained, observing my consternation. 'Special slave boots to remind you that your pedestal is a punishment.'

'Oh, I see.' I made a face. 'My legs are going to be killing me if I have to walk in these for too long.'

'I don't think the idea is for you to spend that much time on your feet,' she said, and laughed softly, deep in her throat.

I felt that funny shiver again and wondered if I ought to change my mind about all this, but surely I had come too far now to retreat at such a late juncture.

The gloves required as much patience, expertise and additional talcum powder as had the stockings and I could not have put them on properly without help - not that first time, anyway. They were also black and seemed thin, but how tightly they embraced every knuckle joint left my hands feeling clumsy and alien. I held them up for closer inspection, flexing my fingers. To my surprise, I could only make a fist with the greatest effort and even then it was not a perfect one.

'Meg would have loved to have stuff like this to work with,' I mused, 'and so would that Pottinger bloke. I wonder when they first started making clothes like this?'

'Not that far back, at least I don't think it was. Rubber was for car and bike tyres, though they did start with incontinence pants quite a way back, now that I come to think of it. You should look it up as part of your history studies.' Anne-Marie moved on now to buckle a high rubber collar about my neck, stretching up on tiptoe to reach properly. This collar was made of rubber as thick as that used for the corset, if not slightly thicker still, and it had been formed so it cupped beneath my chin and spread slightly onto my shoulders, forming a rigid support that now prevented me looking down or even turning my head. 'It's called a posture collar,' she explained. 'I like my slaves to hold their heads proudly when they walk. If I want their heads down then they get onto their knees, as I think you ought to do now... so I can fix your mask, silly,' she added, smiling at my surprised look.

It was easier said than done but I managed it with her holding one of my hands to steady me. She turned back to the box again but instead of the expected mask she now took out a length of chain with a square looking attachment at each end. She passed this about my waist and I saw that the two end pieces were designed to fit one inside the other with a dull click that told me they had been locked together, holding the chain snugly about my constricted waist like a belt.

'Right wrist please, Teenie.'

Obediently, I held up my arm and a shining steel band was clicked about it. My left arm was dealt with in the same fashion and then both were guided to my sides, where I discovered that each band was fitted with a small snap catch on the inside of the wrist that locked neatly onto the belt chain. Very simple and a pretty contrast against the black rubber, and also very effective in that I was now completely helpless.

'Now you're mine again,' Anne-Marie whispered, bending over to kiss me full on the lips, her tongue pushing between my teeth like an eager serpent. I wanted to reach up to hold her but my automatic response was halted with a clinking of metal as I tugged against it. 'Yes, all mine, my Teenie baby,' she said, breaking away from me, 'and don't think this is going to be just for a couple of hours. We can stay here for days on end if we choose to... if
I
choose to, I should say.'

'But what about the records we still have to check?' I protested. 'And what about Andrea?'

'Carmen will keep Andrea safe and sound and those records will still be there the day after tomorrow. After all, they've been there for decades already so another twenty-four hours won't hurt, will it?'

'You're not serious, are you?' I asked, feeling myself starting to tremble.

Anne-Marie stood back, her hands on her hips in a pose I had come to regard as Meg's. 'Perhaps,' she said softly. 'It all depends on how I feel and on how you perform.'

'Perform? What do you mean?'

'Out there,' she replied simply. 'It all depends how you act as my slave and how things go from there. Besides, you may not want it to end, not if the other night was anything to go by.'

'What do you mean?'

'Only that I think you're a natural little sub and a right little show off, given the proper conditions and preparation. In a few minutes you'll be masked and anonymous again and, once I'm changed, I'll be taking you out there just the way you are now, that's without panties, so your smooth little minny will be the centre of attention and available to all eyes and hands.'

'But I'm supposed to be
your
slave,' I protested
. 'You can't let just anyone
—'

'My
slave
, exactly,' she cut in, 'which means that if I choose to let everyone touch you up, that's my privilege. Of course, there
is
a gusset piece I could put on you, I have it here in the box, but there's a downside to it.'

'Please use it,' I begged. 'Please cover me up.'

'Well, you asked for it.' She drew the thing out and I gaped as I saw the two attached rubber phalluses, the one slightly longer and thicker than the other but the second nonetheless imposing for all that.

'Oh, no!' I gasped. 'The other one, can't you take it off? I can handle the first one, but—'

'But you'll get used to the other one, I promise, and then you'll be reminded at every step that you're my slave girl by choice tonight.'

'But I think maybe I've changed my mind about that,' I said. 'Yes, I want to go.'

'Too late, Teenie slave. Besides, I don't think you really want to go. Now, I'm going to plug your pussy and your bottom, then I'm going to gag your pretty mouth and put your mask on you, and in a little while I'm going to show you off to all my friends, so move your legs apart while I put a drop of something on this little one for you. I imagine you'll have enough lubrication for its big brother by now.'

I stood and waited in total darkness while Anne-Marie changed. My mask had been designed so that the eye openings could be zipped closed and a flap clipped down over them to shut out even the last chink of light. It was a curious sensation, the thick rubber helmet mask padded slightly over the ears to dull sound, as was that of my lips stretched around the stubby rubber penis gag that was buckled to either side of the mouth opening.

Hear no evil. See no evil. Speak no evil.

But there was no way of controlling my thoughts as they went whirling back in a kaleidoscope of images that included Meg, Hacklebury, Erik, Anne-Marie and Andrea. I stood tall and erect and knew that I was a thoroughly wicked person as I yearned for my mistress to take me out and parade me for all eyes to gloat over. My bottom felt full, my vaginal muscles throbbed as they expanded and contracted about their rubber guest, and I knew I could have made myself come on the spot. I think Anne-Marie knew that, too.

'Easy there, Teenie,' I heard her say close to my ear. She had to be standing on the bench seat, I realised vaguely. 'Save it for later and I promise you'll come all you want to and with an appreciative audience to share your pleasure!'

'I say, she really is a magnificent looking specimen!' The fellow at the bar was dressed from head to toe in white leather studded with rhinestones. His face was dead white and his eyes heavily made-up, his receding hair obviously dyed jet-black. I estimated he had to be in his early thirties and he spoke with an accent that suggested Oxford or Cambridge. 'What do you call her?' he asked, unable to take his eyes off me despite the fact that Anne-Marie's generous bosom was all but falling out of a top that could have come straight out of Wonder Woman's wardrobe had it not been made of white rubber.

'I call her Teenie,' my mistress told him.

'Not that teeny though, is she? My, but she's a tall one and such lovely legs, too. Do you rent her out?'

I felt myself turn cold, but was that totally from dread?