Katrina's Taming

KATRINA'S TAMING (by Eve Adorer)

Chapter 6 – Jackie's Little Party

My stomach did somersaults of joy and fear at the prospect of meeting Jackie again. Would she see me as I longed for her to see me? Would she recognise my love for her? Would she at least be delighted at my beauty? Would I not be the most beautiful girl at her party apart, of course, from Jackie herself?

At least in that Jackie was the first person to see me as my cab dropped me off and she opened her door in person to let me in, I was not to be disappointed.

“What are you dressed like that for?”, she demanded.

Tears welled in my eyes at this cruel blow to my hopes.

“Go to the next-door room the girls there will dress you. You're here to serve as a waitress not to show off!” Jackie snapped.

I fought back bitter tears of total disappointment. Why had I been so stupid as not to ask whether I was there as guest or as one of Jackie's employees? But even then, why had she to be so unkind?

I could hear Jackie apologising to guests that the waitress was here and if they would just be patient…. and I lost track of the rest of her announcement as I went into the room she had sent me to.

I had just entered when Jackie came in behind me.

“Strip totally nude” she commanded me

“I've promised these girls a treat and you are not going to let me down”

I, of course, recognised the two girls in that room as being Mina and Nina, my tormentors from my hideous girl-cage torture. I also, of course recognised what they were holding in readiness for me: a new pair of stilt-booties.

I stripped nude as I had been ordered and I felt that same strange combination of fear and excitement that had hit me at the beginning of this change to my life, when Jackie had emailed her peremptory demand that I submit to being tamed. I blushed because my quim was once more getting moist, excited by my fear and by my submission to the command of others: Jackie's command above all.

It had been over a year now since I had last worn stilt-booties with their miniscule grip at the toe ends for the wearer forced onto tip-of-tiptoe within them, and with only their “front heels” with the one-eighth inch square contact of those heels, to enable her to stand, and of no aid to her walking.

These new booties were being slipped onto my dainty feet by my eager tormentors, who were soon strapping tight closed the “bellows” into which my feet had been slid and fixing the straps around my pretty ankles to fit my punishment-booties irremovably to my feet.

I was once more bade to stand, and lifted myself practicedly this time, having experienced the demands of these booties on me during my taming torture. Once more I arose on supremely erotically beautiful long long ballerinered legs pirouetted and skyscapered on the very tips of the tips of my big toes within these wonderfully sexual and incredibly sexy booties.

And I stood naked but for my booties blushing deep red with the knowledge of how helpless these booties made me, and how orgasmically lovely my legs were in them and at the deep concave dimples they gave me in my beautiful bum.

I looked around now still blushing at the unwavering agog admiration of my body that I could see in my tormentors' eyes. Indeed, I was enjoying their admiration as only a girl can, and as my quim showed by its invitingly moist lips.

The theme for this gathering was obviously going to be rubber. Such of my new stilt-booties that was not stiffening stainless steel, was in black rubber.

I was to be a waitress, and this waitress-to-be needed at least a skirt. And so I was having taken up my legs and monumentally strong thighs a rubber tube that would comprise my skirt. The dimensions of this tube had been carefully calculated to take into account my ample bottom. But, even so, it was only with the greatest difficulty and judicious application of talcum powder, that this skirt was pulled over my bum.

The result was a black rubber skirt that was a skirt only insofar as there is no other word for what I wore. It was no more than ten-inches deep this skirt and, consequently, showed bum cleavage at the top of my delightful rear, and made little pretence of fully hiding my nude sex at the front.

But it covered the concaved half-moons of my bottom super-huggingly, so as to make that which was already wonder-enticingly smackable into a vision of superlative erotic loveliness, as it matched every curve and dimple of my divine rear.

Next, a white rubber waitress' apron was taken around my waist just below my bellybutton, and its strings tied-off at the small of my back. This apron at least did for my modesty, that at the front which my rubber skirt almost totally failed to do. Even so, the apron came only four inches below the hem of my skirt and promised the joy of a flash of my nude split at any heaven-sent time.

There was something written in red on this apron in what I knew, given the nationality of Jackie's guests, to be in Japanese and which, therefore, was completely indecipherable to me, as Japanese was not among my accomplishments.

Jackie put her head around the room door at this point and urged my dressers to get a move on as her guests were being kept waiting for want of their waitress.

My captors now brought a gold coloured chain, slim and as pretty as many a necklace, though of bigger and stronger links, which they passed and padlocked tightly around my waist above my apron's “strings”.

At the middle back of this waist chain, there was a larger link. Through this larger link ran another chain of the same description as my waist chain, save that it was not to encircle me, but had at each end of it, black rubber cuffs which were now eagerly padlocked to my slim and dainty wrists.

The carefully calculated mischief behind this was that, as was demonstrated by one of the girls taking my hand in her long lovely warm fingers, I could, at any one time, because the chain which cuffed my wrists was limiting me, only have one hand in front of me.

I could take my right hand to a very little above my waist height but, in doing so, I drew the cuff chain through my waist chain and therefore took my left hand to where it could only touch my delicious left buttock.

I could, through this imprisonment by the wrists therefore, only have both hands at the same time at front, a little below hip height and, if anything, more at my side than really in front of me. I was, enforcedly therefore, to be cruelly confined to being a one-handed maid waitress.

My torturers now brought my head gear and my nipple-torment bra.

I had never experienced being masked before, but was in no position to protest, as one of the girls fixed onto my nose a light clip, such as that worn by divers, to close my nostrils. She then put over my face, a black stretch-rubber mask that covered even my ears as it was taken over my full face and strapped at the back of my head where my hair was still drawn up and away into the tight coil bun of light brown crowning beauty that adorned my head.

This vicious mask had a small round short tube at my mouth so that I could breath and, with my nostrils clamped and my nose entirely covered by the black rubber of the mask, I could only breath through this little tube.

At eye level, the cruel mask had two individual tube-blinkers. Of only a half-inch diameter and sticking out two inches rigidly straight from my face, they protruded before my face like obscene binoculars. They had no glass in them, but absolutely ensured that my vision was severely restricted, unless I moved my head: restricted to a degree distressing and frightening for a girl steepled in pirouette-booties as precariously as I was.

It was therefore only with the greatest difficulty that I could see that my lovely 36-inch D-cup breasts were being encased in a rubber brassiere, the cups of which were stiff headless precise cones. These stiff cones shaped my wonderfully generous bosoms into obscene rigid conical volcanoes, seeming to stand straight out a mile from my chest bigger than their natural and wonderful size, with my nipples poking out like fiery-pink eruptions from their ends.

The bra was tight strapped at my back, and a curious device looking a little like a doctor's stethoscope brought to me. I was shown the details of this by Nina, the crueller of the two girls.

Having already experienced the refinements of torture Jackie was capable of devising, you can, I would think, imagine with what anxious curiosity I looked at this device for the little I could see because of my blinkers, and for the brief time I was shown it.

I could not understand what it was for but, where a stethoscope would fit in a doctor's ears, there were, instead of ear pieces, transparent cups within which was a wheel apiece with four flaps: a sort of paddle wheel such as is seen on the sides of paddle steamers, but with the paddles not encased at their sides.

These cups were fitted over my exposed nipples, protruding as my nipples did from my volcanoised tits, and snapped into place on four plastic clips for that purpose at top bottom and sides of my vulcanised volcano brassiere.

Now the single tube that would lead to the end of a stethoscope which would be pressed to the patient's chest, was passed up to my mouth. This single tube had a rigid plastic pipe within its end, and this was inserted into the precisely matching sized pipe in my mask in front of my mouth: the pipe which was the only means left for me to breath.

Black adhesive tape was wrapped around to hold the tube from the “stethoscope” into the tube through which I must breath. But I hardly noticed that as I became, from the moment that the tube was fitted into my mask's mouthpiece, only too fully aware of what this device was to do to me.

Despite the pounding in my heart from the stress of the bondage I was being put into, I breathed steadily and normally. And, as I breathed I drew my breath in or blew my sweet fresh exhalations through the single tube which divided in twain and led, through the resulting twin tubes, to the transparent caps over my nipples, where the wicked little paddle-wheels were thereby driven round and round and round by my breathing working a lightly sprung lever back and forth, and were thus made to constantly paddle my exquisitely lovely nude nipples.

This carefully calculated erotic torture hit my girlmind and my nipples were already dancing and trying to peak and thereby put themselves further into delightful harms way of the constant threshing from the paddle wheels in my entirely aptly named nipple-torment bra.

Finally, one of my captors knelt to fit a golden chain between the ankle straps of my pirouette-booties. I was fitted with a hobble-chain. That hobble-chain, slim but strong, was no more than a totally unmerciful one-inch in length: I would be restricted to one-inch steps in my punishment-booties!

I was ready now. This erotic rubber maid slave waitress was ready to be commanded and used and abused at the will or whim of her captors.