The Rocky Road to Ruin
by Rubberwolfmailto:rbbral@yahoo.ca

© 2005 - Rubberwolf - Used by permission

storycodes: FF/f; latex; doll; bdsm; nc; XX The Rocky Road to Ruin by Rubberwolf

Foreword

For those of you that have visited the Grommets Plaza Forum, you may be aware that I occasionally attend the Rocky Horror show. This piece is written with that great stage production in mind. I have written this story for a competition held on Grommets site, where the brief states that the hero/heroine should visit the sponsors fetish shop and create a story of their adventures. What better excuse to visit fetish clothes shop than the Rocky? Having read the rules, as stipulated, I then visited the link to the shops web site and found the perfect outfit that would match the shows final confrontation scene perfectly. So, this is a story about a stage show and the possibilities that may result from a chance encounter. Although I did not meet the deadline for the competition, I thought I would write the story anyway.

By the way, if you are not sure what is going on, visit the Rocky Horror Show web site, or that of its UK fan club and you will soon get the idea.

Enjoy

Rubberwolf

Antici…..pation

Alison had worked for Grommet and Partners Ltd. for just over a year now. As a junior accounts clerk, she felt that she had taken on a great deal of responsibility in relation to her job description. This was not uncommon when working for smaller companies. She had worked for larger companies and had notices that they tended to hire greater numbers of people in order for them to specialise in specific tasks. Although Grommets boasted an enviable turnover, it was still small enough to enable Alison to experience a wider variety of duties than would normally be the case.

Chartered accountancy differed from company accounts quite significantly, since their work primarily evolved around auditing. When she had first applied for the job, she had been concerned that she might become bored. However, one of the interview panel had changed this perception.

Simon Pierce, was a hunk. He was witty, charming and loaded. What more could a girl want. However, despite numerous attempts to attract his attention, her advances seemed to go unnoticed. Initially she had been subtle, brushing past him in corridors, batting her eyelids for all that they were worth. But nothing had, as yet resulted in a date, or even acknowledgement. She was becoming a little frustrated. As her efforts to catch his eye had intensified she was becoming frustrated at the lack of response. She began to believe that, following some of her more recent antics, she might as well wear a sign proclaiming “Slut”. She was beginning to believe that the object of her attentions might be gay.

But then, despite all of her efforts, she did not believe that she was a prize catch herself. Oh, she was pretty enough. Five foot ten slim with long legs and long brown hair. She had a reasonable bust and her mother always said that her large dark eyes and bee sting lips would melt men’s’ hearts. Perhaps it was in the way she presented herself. Perhaps her glasses were not fashionable enough? She always wore smart, professional suites to the office, although in her recent attempts to attract Mr Pierce’s attention the hemline of her skirt had started to rise. Shockingly, it was now well above the knees by at least two inches. She had even started wearing high heels for god sake. Three-inch heels were damned uncomfortable after eight hours. She was beginning to lose hope of ever attracting Simon’s eye.

Just as she was beginning to contemplate clubbing him over the head and dragging him back to her lair so that she could leap on him, an opportunity arose. Due to a large auditing job over Christmas, it was decided that they should hold the Christmas party in the New Year. This would normally involve a meal out, with perhaps some dancing and a little bit of alcohol. OK a lot of alcohol. However, one of her colleagues suggested that this year’s venue might be the Rocky Horror show, followed by a nightclub. Alisons’ brain lit up with millions of fiendish possibilities when she learned that Mr Pierce would also be going. Although she had never been, she had seen the film and knew the dress code required. If she could not have Simon grovelling at her feet by the end of it, perhaps he was gay.

Having gossiped with the other girls, Alison had a fair idea of what everybody else in her office would be wearing. Those that were not playing Columbia would be wearing varied assortments of underwear, in homage to Magenta or Janet. She would need to be even more daring in order to stand out.

Interesting Underwear

Having paid her deposit, the first thing she did when she got home was to research her subject. She decided to start with the show and so booted up her computer to visit the web sites. After researching the characters, fans, outfits and protocol, she rented the film from the local video shop. How could she make herself stand out? It would definitely need to be something special if she was to compete with a theatre full of scantily clad women.

The best place to look, she decided, was on the Internet. After a few hours of searching through department stores and the usual assortment of lacy underwear, she eventually found herself in more perverse web sites. She read a great deal about bondage and punishment, before accessing more extreme fetishes. Despite the fact that she disapproved of many of the practices, she had to admit that many of the outfits warranted further investigation. And then, by a stroke of good fortune, she found her outfit. It looked incredibly space age. She remembered watching films like Barbarella, or Flash Gordon and was instantly inspired. This would be perfect for the outfits worn by Magenta in the final scene. As a bonus, she would not have to rely on mail order, since the shop was situated locally. She was surprised that she had not seen it before, although she imagined that they would have to be very discrete in their advertising. She therefore resolved to visit the shop on Saturday and try on some of the outfits.

Unexpectedly, The Eros boutique was not as discrete as she would have expected.. She expected to find a dingy back street shop, with iron mesh over the windows, which would be boarded up. The only advertisement she would have expected would have been a tacky sign over the door announcing adult entertainment. The boutique was however, discrete in that it blended in with the other high street shops. This looked like a typical clothes shop. The window display might have been overlooked, if it were not for the fact that the mannequins all wore rubber, or PVC. There was no sign of the restraints, or bondage paraphernalia that she would have expected, having visited their web site. The outfits, in fact, looked like risqué club wear. Despite the nondescript nature of the display, Alison had no illusions as to what lay in side. It was as if the outside of the shop had been designed to hint, or tastefully suggest what lay in side. Alison realised that she was stalling and so she plucked up her courage and walked in to the shop.

The interior of the shop was also a surprise. She was not sure what she had expected, perhaps something dingy, or grubby, but the boutique definitely was not either of those. Instead, the interior was well appointed and, like the window display, was laid out like any other fashionable high street clothes shop.

The well lit shop boasted wide isles filled with racks of clothes. One wall was taken up with shoes and boots, while the rear wall, which was tastefully screened off, contained the more exotic accessories. Despite her initial reservations, Alison realised that she would feel quite comfortable shopping hear and, she realised that was why it had been laid out as it had. The layout had been designed to put customers at their ease. Rather than some dingy fetish shop, where new patrons would feel nervous about asking for help, or looking at clothes, the boutique had done its best to show that this was an everyday clothes shop that just happened to stock rubber and latex. This was a shop that Alison would feel at home in and so, without any further consideration, she set to with the familiar zeal of the true shopaholic and indulged her purchasing power.

An hour later, after trying on several outfits, shoes and accessories, Alison staggered towards the counter with her selection. If this does not have the desired affect on Simon, he was obviously dead would notice unit the next year-end.

Having loaded her shopping in to the boot of the car, Alison spent the rest of the day shopping for make up and jewellery that would accompany her outfit.

The Rocky horror show was booked for the last weekend in February. Alison eagerly paid for her ticket and booked the afternoon off to get ready in time. The show was due to start at seven thirty and she had arranged to meet the rest of the department in the theatre bar a half an hour before hand.

Arriving home at two o’clock, the first thing that Alison did was to take a bath and wash her hair. Ann had found that the rubber latex underwear was so tight that it became uncomfortable to move around in if she still had hair in a certain place and so, working with extreme caution, Alison hooked her leg on to the side of the bath and shaved the hair off of her pussy. This done she shaved her legs and armpits.

Stepping out of the bath, Alison placed a towel around her head and dried her body. She then walked in to the bedroom and dried her hair. The next step was to apply her make up. Having seen the photos from the Rocky web site, she knew the look that she was after, sort of Mortician Adams meets Monroe and so applied her foundation heavily, in order to achieve the deathly pallor worn by the cast. Next, black eye shadow was applied. She then used the same eye shadow to rouge her cheeks in to a deathly grey colour. After applying long false eyelashes and mascara, she turned her attention to her lips. Using tissue she removed the first coat of lipstick before re-applying the bright red to her lips. She was fortunate that she had thick bee sting lips and could carry the colour. Finally she applied a base of lip-gloss to bring out the true effect.

Having finished her face, she painted her nails, again in bright red. Once these had dried, she was ready to get dressed. The first thing that she put on was the knickers. If these had been cut in cotton, they would have been called grandma knickers. However, the bright red latex seemed to convey certain sexuality so that they looked very promiscuous, despite being so large that they covered her belly button. Wiping off the excess talcum powder, Alison turned her attention to her stockings, which were also made of bright red latex. She sprinkled liberal amounts of talcum powder inside the stockings so that they glided effortlessly up her smooth legs.

Next Alison reached for the boots. Apart from the corset, these were her favourite purchase. They gloss white, PVC, thigh high, boots with red laces that ran all of the way up the front that sported the most ridiculous six-inch heels. Alison had contemplated doing the Time Warp in these with dread and had therefore been practising wearing the boots, every evening when she got home from work, for the past two weeks. She was now quite confident that she could not only walk, but dance in them. Having pulled the boots on to her legs, she sat down on the bed and started to lace them up, pulling as hard as she could in order to get the tightest fit. Alison did not know why she liked having the boots so tight, since it made it harder for her to balance. It just felt right somehow.

Standing with practised grace, Alison then opened the front of her corset before placing it around her mid rift and securing the front. This was her favourite item. It was white with a red lightning stripe down the front, giving it a futuristic, flash Gordon look. Reaching behind, she started the long and difficult task of lacing the corset up. After half an hour, and several stops to adjust the garment, she had eventually tightened the laces up enough to make a difference to her figure, without restricting her breathing. By the time that she had finished pulling and fidgeting, the laces had lengthened considerably behind her. Grabbing the ends, Alison tied them in to a large bow. The laces were still too long and so she repeated the process twice more until the laces were of a manageable length. She then attached the six suspender straps from the corset to the tops of her stockings, which poked, over the top of her boots by three inches.

With her figure secured, she now moved on to the posture collar, or more precisely, the posture corset. This followed the red and white theme of her outfit; being made of glosses white rubber and sporting bright red laces at the front. The collar, while laced at the front, employed catches at the back so that Alison opened the collar, placed it around her neck and locked the collar in place before undoing the bow at the front of the collar and pulling the laces tightly until her neck was securely jacketed, her chin held high and sideways movement was impossible.

Satisfied, she turned her attention to her hair. Sitting at her dressing table she undid the towel around her head before brushing her hair. Taking two long strands of hair, from either side of her brow and working white dye in to them. Once she had dried these strands with the hair dryer, she worked thick jell in to her hair. Keeping the white strands separate, she back combed and styled her hair, surgically applying the hair dryer, until it was combed into a backwards explosion of long, spiky hair. Finally she coated the white streaks with hair jell and then combed these in to the front of the hair. Once she had dried these in place she then sprayed her hair with a generous coating of hair spray. The final result was a cross between the bride of Frankenstein meets Cruela DeVile. Perfect.

Picking up her new earrings, she secured them in place before appraising herself in the dressing table mirror. The Bright red three inch discs that now adorned her ears would have looked ridiculous when worn with any other outfit, but for this outfit and in a Rocky Horror context which, after all was a show that took the proverbial out of 1950’s and 60’s horror films, it was ideal.

Next she pulled on a pair of full length, white rubber, fingerless gloves that were attached to her middle digit only and sported bright red laces. These were again laced up tightly.

Standing up Alison approached the full-length mirror next to her wardrobe. The effect was stunning. She looked great. It was a pity that she could not pull the laces on her corset any tighter, but she would have to be happy with the effect. It still looked damn good.

Finally, she transferred her purse to her new handbag, which was made of bright red PVC and was shaped in to the shape of a corset, with a zip on the top and bright white laces, zig zagging down the front in imitation of the garment she was wearing.

Picking up the bedroom telephone she ordered a taxi before donning her new, red rubber raincoat and tying it loosely around her middle. She looked; she had to admit, stunning.

One of the Masters Little Suarez

She arrived at the bar in good time, ordering herself a drink and positioning herself so that she could spy her quarry when he arrived. She was soon spotted by her fellow co-workers, who were all amazed at her transformation quizzing her intently on who the lucky man was and where she had brought such an outrageous costume. One girl showed a particular interest. She had also come, to Allison’s amazement, in rubber.

Alison was surprised to learn that Bobby also worked at her firm, from the marketing section. The girls chatted amiably for several minutes, while Alison kept a discrete eye on the door for the arrival of her quarry. Bobby, short for Roberta, admired the corset and suggested that it could be made even tighter. Alison explained that she had tied it as tightly as she could but it was difficult to get enough leverage. Before she could say another word, Alison found herself being whisked to the bathroom by the other girl. Although smaller, Bobby was surprisingly strong and soon Alison was grunting while holding on to the sink in the ladies room, as the other girl heaved on the laces.

By the time that they had finished, Alison considered, her waist had shrunk by at least two inches. If she looked good before, she now looked fabulous. They returned to the bar just as the admission bell chimed and the two girls made their way in to the auditorium. Alison scanned the crowd as they made their way to the seats, but was not able to find Simon. Disappointed, she slipped in to her seat. To her surprise Bobby sat next to her.

“Well isn’t that a coincidence. The only two rubber clad girls in the company have tickets right next to each other,” Bobby exclaimed with a mischievous grin as she waved her ticket at Alison.

OK, so the love of her life had not turned up. No knight in shining armour, or at least no stilettos and fish nets. But at least she had found someone that she could enjoy the evening with.

Bobby turned out to be the perfect person to go to the Rocky with. She knew all of the responses that a fan is expected to hurl at the stage. She knows all of the parts where you would throw rice, water, or wave lighters. There were even a couple of responses that she had not read on the web page. By the end of the show, the two girls where chatting and joking like two old school friends. The only draw back, apart from the fact that Simon had not shown his face, was that her feet were killing her. However, Alison put on her bravest face, linked her arm with Bobbies and strode off towards the nightclub.

The club was everything that one would expect from a town centre establishment. Although the girls had no trouble getting in, the men were definitely not wearing what the bouncers considered suitable club attire. However, after much discussion and the fact that the company had pre-booked tables, allowed the workforce to continue their outing.

The advantage of being young, pretty, female and clad from head to toe in rubber ensured that neither girl was short for a drink, or company. However, the girls managed to play their admirers without actually having to leave with any of them, which was a welcome change. It was, Alison considered, like watching a wrestling match. As soon as one of them was getting in to trouble, the other would leap in and distract the other enough to ensure that they were not cornered, although the butt pinching and slapping was more than would normally be expected if they had been wearing ordinary club clothes.

By the end of the evening, both girls were shattered. Alison collapsed in to a booth seat while Bobby went to get drinks. Alison scanned the crowd, admiring the fact that, despite the length of the evening, some of her colleagues were still going strong. She was even quite impressed by some of the men. Perkins, from brought ledger had really made an effort to look the part and she was amazed that, not only had he worn five-inch stilettos, but was also quite graceful in them.

At the bar, Bobby took the two drinks and in a nimble feet of misdirection that would have put a stage magician to shame, uncorked a small vile and poured clear liquid in to one of the drinks, before returning the bottle to her bag and carrying the drinks over to the booth.

Alison sipped her drink as she chatted to Bobby. It really has been a long night, she reflected as the first tell tale signs of having too much alcohol started to rear its ugly, swaying head and she suggested that it was time to look for a taxi. Five minutes later, the two girls were standing in line for the next taxi. Alison was beginning to feel slightly woozy and had to lean on Bobby for support. When she started to slur her words Bobby advised her that she did not look so well.

“Look, I can’t let you go like this, you don’t look so good. You can stay at my place tonight OK”

Alison was too disorientated to argue and allowed herself to be bundled in to the taxi. She did not catch the address that Bobby gave to the driver. She did not feel herself lean in to the other girl as she collapsed against the other girl. She might have felt the other girl run her hands over her legs and fondle her breasts and only had a vague idea that she might have been kissed.

The River of Nights Dreaming

Eventually the taxi stopped and, with Bobbie’s help, Alison managed to tumble out of the taxi. She did not take in her surroundings, other that to register that she was headed towards a large house. She leaned drunkenly against the other girl as she fumbled for her keys and was carried over the threshold in to a large, entry hall.

“Your late dear,” a voice echoed from another part of the house.

“Yes, sorry. I should have called mother, but you know how it is.

An older woman, who could have been a Victorian governess by her severe choice of clothes and with her hair in such a tight bun swayed in to Allison’s view.

“This is Alison. I said that she could stay the night. Is that OK mother?”

Alison was aware of the older woman’s scrutiny, but only in a general, room spinning sense. She was having enough trouble staying upright, let alone indulging in introductions.

“Very well, I shall prepare a room.”

Alison lost track of time. It was, as thought she were skipping through highlights, like forwarding to the next scene on a film on a CD. She was aware of being carried up stairs and of a bedroom and of falling on to a bed. But that was all before she passed out completely.

Alison had a fitful sleep that night. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or the Rocky Horror, or she did not know. But the dreams were quite perverted. She did not usually remember her dreams. Especially the X rated ones. Those that she could remember tended towards Brad Pitt. For some reason however, tonight’s dreams were different.

It was dark and she was aware of other people near by. She craned her neck to look at them, but she could only make out vague shadows. She was lying on a bed and wearing a strange, old fashioned, linen night gown, with lace collars and cuffs and covered her from neck to ankles. She had never worn anything like this in a dream before. She tried to ask who was there, but the sound that left her mouth sounded like a groan, or a grunt. She tried to sit up, but a hand moved out of the darkness and pushed, gently, but firmly on her chest until she was lying flat on the bed again.

Bobbie’s face swam in to view. It looked over her and spoke to someone on the other side of the bed. She could not make out the words. They were just on the edge of comprehension, but their meaning slipped past her comprehension and she stared bewildered at the girl looming above her. Movement to her left caught her eye and she turned her head slowly to see what was happening. But her vision faded and darkness descended around her like a familiar cloak.

Awareness came again in patches. Slow moving images of filtered through her understanding, like watching a slow motion picture. She was naked on the bed; her legs were spread wide. A strange sensation between her legs made was making her incredibly horny. Lazily she lifted her head to look down. Bobby had her face nuzzled between her thighs. The naked girl looked up from her ministrations and smiled at her before plunging her face back in to Alisons sex. Alison tried to protest, but the same muffled grunt came out.

The older woman, dressed in her underwear, was sliding off her knickers as she gazed down at Alison from the side of the bed. She wore an old fashioned corset and a petticoat that she hiked up around her waist to remove her undergarment, revealing black silk stockings held up by frilly garters. The woman slid on to the bed, kneeling next to the girl’s head. Alison tried to push the woman away, but it was as though all of her strength had left her and she was moving through treacle. Her arm was easily brushed aside as the woman eased her leg above her. Alison gazed up at the woman who had pinned her to the bed and the look of lust that she wore sent a cold chill down Allison’s spine. The woman sat up, moving her naked pussy towards Allison’s face. The older woman had been holding her petty coat around her waist, in order to mount her prey. As the wet, musky scent engulfed her lips and nostrils, the garment descended, like a slowly falling leaf, forming a tent around Alisons head and imprisoning her in a cage of white cotton and the woman’s wet thighs. Alison tried to scream, but her protest was feeble and easily silenced.

Her pussy was still being licked and teased by Bobby as she felt the girls hands slide up her body towards her breasts, as the older woman rocked above her, forcing her dripping sex deeper and deeper in to Alisons mouth.

Alison had never entertained ideas about other women; she was definitely a one-man woman. OK so the one man was proving elusive at the moment, but she knew, in her heart, that she was straight. She was therefore shocked by her body’s reaction as she felt the familiar sensations of an orgasm building. Almost against her will, her hips started to move, pushing Bobbies tongue deeper and deeper in to her pussy. At the same time, she pressed her lips firmly in to the pink flesh of the other woman’s sex and her tongue darted forward to lick at the rich musky bounty that filled her mouth. She was nearly there, just a moment longer, just a little longer. The long stream of musky, liquid that filled her mouth sent her over the edge. As the first spray of piss filled her open mouth, she tried to spit it out, past the pink softness of the other woman, but her orgasm hit her in a mammoth, incomprehensible wave and, almost by reflex, she swallowed and swallowed and swallowed as her body writhed on the bed in ecstasy.

Alison woke in an unfamiliar bedroom. Daylight filtered through pale curtains. She scanned the room, but a sharp pain in her head reminded her of the excesses of drink and she took in her surroundings in a more controlled manner as she gingerly eased herself up on to one elbow.

The furniture and wallpaper were not just old fashioned, but antique. A dark floral wallpaper coated the walls until they met a moulded Daido rail. While paint above the rail matched the white plaster of the ceiling, which was dominated by an impressive moulding that acted as a focus for a small crystal and brass chandelier.

The floor was bare. The boards painted black, whose dominance was broken by a richly coloured floral rug. The bed itself was a very sturdy looking brass headboard and footer, covered in a light floral blanket, with white cotton under sheets. An old fashioned, wooden mirror hung from the Daido rail by tow brass chains. The gold and white frame would have been more at home around a painting, but matched the wardrobe, dressing table and chest of draws, that were painted white, with gold moulding raised around the edges of the turn of the century furniture.

Gently, her pace governed by her aching head she swung her legs over the bed and was surprised to find that she was dressed in an old-fashioned white night gown, with long sleeves. Half remembered images flashed before her eyes, but were quickly lost in the fog of her hang over so that, like most dreams the memory slipped from her grasp as she struggled to hold on to it.

A glass pitcher of water, on the bedside table reminded her of how thirsty she was and she quickly filled a glass and gulped it down her parched throat. A knock at the door caused her to move her head too suddenly and caused wracking pain to writhe through her head.

“Yes?”

“It’s Bobby. It’s eleven O’clock. I thought I would see if you would like something to eat. May I come in?”

Alison struggled to remember the previous night. But, with a flash of inspiration she remembered the girl that she had met at the Rocky Horror show.

“Yes. OK”

Bobby entered carrying a tray that held orange juice, a pot of tea and some toast, which she placed on the bedside table next to the water, jug.

“Are you all right, you don’t look well?”

“Just a little hung over that’s all.”

Alison studied the other girl, who was shorter and slimmer than her as she sat on the bed next to her. She looked about eighteen or nineteen with long dark hair that was held in a ponytail. She was pretty, and had what could only be described as a cherubic face, which beamed cheerfully at her.

“Well the orange juice might help with that,” Bobby cheerfully replied as her hand reached over to Alisons forehead.

Bobby laid her palm across the top of Alisons head and then quickly down to her cheeks.

“I thought you looked a bit flushed. You have a temperature. You might have caught a chill last night. How do you feel?”

Alison considered the question before answering.

“Groggy. I have a headache and my muscles are sore. I’m just a little hung over that’s all.”

“See how you get on with breakfast. I’ll get you something for the temperature just in case.”

With that the girl got up from the bed and skipped towards the door. Left alone, Alison propped the pillows up against the headboard and eased herself back in to bed before reaching for the tray of food. Although she tried, she was not very hungry and only managed a few bites of toast before settling for the orange juice. She knew, from past experience, that the worst thing you can drink the morning after is tea, or coffee. Satisfied, she laid the tray back on the cabinet, slid herself over the side of the bed and tried to stand. A wave of dizziness engulfed her and her legs gave way dumping her back on to the bed. She shut her eyes as the room span around her and she struggled to come to overcome the wave of nausea that assailed her.

She heard her door open and footsteps running in to the room.

“Are you all right? What happened?”

“I don’t know. I just came over all dizzy and had to lie down.”

The other girl eased Alison in to a sitting position before offering her a glass of creamy liquid.

“Here drink this, it should help,” the girl said placing the glass to Alisons lips.

She drank and then eased herself back in to bed. She must have dozed off because when she opened her eyes again an older woman was sitting in a chair next to her bed.

“Hello dear, I am Amanda Morrison, Bobbies mother. You have been asleep all afternoon. I fear that you are not well. I think it’s best if you remain with us for another day until you are recovered. In the mean time I will ask Bobby to make you some soup.”

Alison did not remember meeting the other woman, but was struck by her old fashioned clothes. The woman complemented the room in her sense of dress. A long, floor length skirt was and white blouse emphasised the older woman’s cleavage and narrow waist, which suggested a rigid corsetry underneath the frilly high collard garment. Amanda wore her hair in a tight bun on top of her head and the only jewellery that she wore was an antique cameo around her throat.

After about five minutes of chatting the woman left. Bobby returned a quarter of an hour later with a bowl of soup and another glass of the creamy liquid. Bobby ate sparingly before drinking the medicine, an old family recipe Bobby informed her, before drifting off in to a troubled sleep.

While Alison slept, Bobby walked to the train station. Once there she made use of the rest rooms, stripping off her sensible garments for those that she wore underneath. Although Alison was taller than the smaller Bobby was, Rubber is a forgiving medium and Bobby could was used to adjusting corsetry. The woman who stepped out of the cubicle wearing a wig, similar to Allison’s hair, dark glasses and who carried a duffel bag, would not be remembered for her facial features. People would remember her for her bright glossy raincoat and unusual rubber clothes. The Taxi driver who drove her to Alisons flat would remember the hair, the clothes and the cleavage. If shown a picture of Alison, he would state that he was fairly certain that was the woman who had been in his cab.

The woman, who could have been Alisons sister walked in to the other woman’s apartment, opened the mail and tidied. Once this was done, she carefully polished the rubber clothes, removed them and dressed in her own, careful not to touch anything until she had dressed in her own outfit and placed gloves on her hands. She then polished inside the garment, careful to remove any fingerprint, or DNA, before hanging the garments in the wardrobe.

Having locked up, still wearing the wig and glasses, she walked in to the town centre, using the public toilets to loose the wig and glasses, before reversing her coat. A woman who looked like Alison may have stepped in to the toilets, but it was Bobby who stepped out and of them and caught the bus home.

Alison dreamed that she was in bed and was being kissed. Her arms were above her and for some reason that she could not fathom, she could not lower them. She tried to open her eyes, but found only impenetrable blackness. She tried to look around, but the woman, yes it was definitely a woman, who held her and groped her breasts had a firm grip on her jaw and continued to force her tongue in to her mouth.

Suddenly she felt another pair of hands on her buttocks, lifting her ass off the bed and wrapping Alisons legs over her shoulders. Alison was confused and feebly tried to struggle as she felt something probing her soft wet sex. How had she become so wet? The hands gripped her tightly and forced something long and firm inside of her, eliciting a groan from the prone girl. The other person, Alison noted from the feel on her legs, had tits and was definitely female. How therefore, could she have a dick? These questions blurred and were eventually forgotten as Alisons orgasm built and eventually rocked her body in violent spasms.

Alison drifted. Aware of hands on her body and then sleep. She thought she heard voices, but could not be sure.

“She woke up.”

“I told you she might. I had to lessen the dosage this time, or risk her becoming addicted. Tomorrow I will give her even less dear.”

“But won’t she realise what is happening?”

“Possibly, but by then it will be too late. She is ours now already, she just doesn’t realise it yet.”

Alison woke with a sore head and her limbs ached, as though she had been exercising. Perhaps this was more than a simple hangover after all. She remembered snippets of a disturbing dream, but like all dreams, when you try to remember them they disappear. Her head was still a little dizzy. But never the less, she eased herself out of bed and stretched her legs. She was definitely feeling a little better, but was having trouble concentrating, as though her thoughts were clogged with cotton wool. A knock at the door made her spin and she would have fallen, but she managed to grab the bedpost in time.

“Come in,” she answered in a slightly shaky voice.

“Good you’re awake. How are you feeling dear?” Amanda enquired.

She was, Alison noted, still dressed in very old-fashioned clothes, she noted for a second, although how old fashioned, or where the idea had come from, she could not decide. Although, from her demeanour, the woman looked strict and regimented, there was genuine concern in her face and the tone of her voice.

“A little better thank you, although I am still a little shaky”.

“No, you still do not look well, but I am glad to hear that you are improved. You may stay with us until you are fully recovered. Perhaps a little time in the garden would prove beneficial?”

“Erh, yes. Thank you. That would be lovely. How long have I been here? I mean, you would tell me what day it is,” Alison enquired.

“It is Monday morning. You have been here since Saturday.”

Alison was gripped by panic.

“But I have to go to work. I mean. What time is it?”

The older woman appeared to consider for a few moments.

“It is a little after nine, but if you do not mind me saying so, I do not think you are well enough for that yet. However, you may use our telephone if that will comfort you.”

“Thank you, yes. If it is not too much trouble.”

Wrapping a nightgown around her, Alison followed as Amanda led her to the telephone. An old fashioned, circular dialled antique made from Bakerlight. However, despite its age, she found little difficulty in getting through and leaving a message for her manager that she would not be in today.

After breakfast and more of the Amanda’s special medication, which had altered in consistency from milky, to merely cloudy, Amanda suggested that she might like to get dressed and join her in the garden. She apologised for that fact that Bobby had left for work already, but was certain the two girls would see each other tonight.

“Unfortunately, Roberta has not inherited my stature. I fear that you might not fit in to her clothes, you are welcome to borrow some of mine though dear.”

“That’s very kind of you, but what happened to the clothes I was wearing on Saturday.”

“While I am sure that they are all the rage in the clubs in these modern times, I hardly think they are appropriate wear for daytime pursuits. Besides, they were in a bit of a state and I have asked Roberta to drop them off at a cleaners. They should be ready soon, but that still leaves the question of what you are to wear today, doesn’t it dear?”

With that, the older woman led Alison to her bedroom and picked out some clothes for her to wear. Laying an old fashioned and very severe looking corset on the bed, Amanda explained:

“You may think me old fashioned, but I believe a woman should look after her figure. You will need to wear this if you are to fit in to any of my clothes.”

Alison was still feeling a little vague and, while the clothes seemed old fashioned, as Amanda piled garments on to the bed, she could not think of any reason why she should not wear them and so after washing and brushing her hair, allowed Amanda to help her into the clothes. At Amanda’s insistence, Allison’s hair was swept up, above her so that it formed a halo of hair, before being pinned in place by an elaborate, tortoise shell comb.

First Alison pulled on a pair of white, silk stocking, which were tied at the top with blue ribbon. Over this she pulled on a pair of white silk, knee length bloomers that were open at the crotch and were threaded with pale blue ribbon that she tied around her waist. A similar detail was sewn into the legs of the garment. After this a long Camisole was pulled over her head. Like the bloomers, these were in white silk, with lace and pale blue ribbons around the hem.

After this, Alison stepped into a pair of stout, three inch, black ankle boots, before being handed the corset by Amanda. Alison had no idea where to begin, but with the older woman’s help, she was soon grabbing frantically on to the bed frame as Amanda pulled the laces tightly about her.

The corset was, as Alison had noted, very strict and heavily boned. Although it was made of a lavender material with pale blue and white details, it was, as far as she was concerned, an implement of medieval torture. Not only did it pinch her waist, but also because its length formed a girdle that encased her bottom and legs. However, Alison had to admit that the effect was dramatic, even though she now had to take shallow breaths. She now sported a diminutive hour glass figure and her bum had never looked so trim. The best part however, was the effect that the garment had on her bust. Although she had noticed an improvement in her assets on Saturday night that was nothing compared to the cleavage that she now sported.

Then the woman placed a strange contraption around her waist that was sort of like a wire bum bag. She had no idea what this was for, however she allowed the woman to adjust the thing properly before a long, sleeveless gown of white cotton, was pulled over her head. Amanda adjusted the gown so that it fell perfectly around her feet. Like the other items that she wore, this garment was trimmed with tiny bows of blue silk and edged with lace. Next she was made to step into an ankle length petticoat. The garment seemed to have been cut with the weird basket in mind, since, like the cotton gown, it hung perfectly. After tying the waist string of the petticoat she was handed a white silk blouse, which she put on. The blouse was accompanied by a pale blue cameo, which was clipped to the high collar. Finally a black, ankle length skirt finished the outfit and, as the older woman proclaimed, she was nearly fit to be seen in decent company. The final item was a wide brimmed, black sun hat.

“A woman’s complexion must be nursed if it is to remain radiant,” Amanda enthused.

Alison studied herself in the mirror.

“I look like Mary Poppins,” she mused.

She was still having trouble concentrating and was therefore puzzled by this statement. However, it did not seem important and she brushed the thought aside.

Finally the two women returned downstairs and, after Amanda had made tea and arranged an assortment of biscuits and cakes on to a plate, the two women walked into the garden, Amanda carrying the tray and Alison clutching some books that Amanda had asked her to read to her and so, the two women spent a pleasurable afternoon, Alison reading aloud, while Amanda took in the pleasures of the garden, occasionally commenting on the occasional bloom.

Although Alison had suspected the size of the house, it was not until she took in the external view that she realised just how large and secluded the house was. It must, she estimated, have eight or ten bedrooms and the sculptured gardens were at least an acre, enclosed by a high brick wall, the neatly tended garden a testament to Amanda’s long administrations.

After lunch, which included another glass of medicine, the two women spent a pleasurable afternoon performing household chores before Bobby arrived back from work.

After tea, the two girls went up to Bobbie’s bedroom to gossip and chat about the day. Mostly, they chatted about Amanda’s old-fashioned attitude and Bobbie’s amazement that she had persuaded Alison to wear her clothes. Bobby confessed that, although she had popped into the cleaners, it would be another day before her clothes were ready. However, she would see how Alison felt tomorrow and, if she was well enough, Bobby would drive her home to change before work.

Come Up to the Lab

That night Alison woke early. She was not sure what had awoken her, but after a few seconds she heard a noise. The noise was indistinct and so Alison decided to investigate. She was still a little groggy, but found she was feeling considerably better and so she slipped out of bed and put on her dressing gown. Alison was afraid of waking the family and so, instead of turning on the main light, she took an old-fashioned silver candlestick from beside her bed and lit with matches from a small tray. In this way she could proceed without bathing the house in brilliant light.

Tentatively she stepped out of her room and tried to listen for the sound. After a few seconds, she heard it again, like a swishing sound and there was another noise that she couldn’t make out. Taking as step towards the sound, Alison realised that she was still a little weak and dizzy but proceeded none the less.

The sound seemed to be coming from upstairs and so she called out for Bobby. After no response, she tried Amanda’s name. Still nothing, in fact the sounds seemed to have stopped. She walked along the stairs until she came to the attic door, which was open. She called again before climbing the stairs.

At the top of the stairs light spilled under the closed attic door. Alison called again before trying the doorknob and stepping into the room. She was momentarily blinded by the fierce electric bulb. But the sight that greeted her was enough to stop her in her tracks.

Before her Bobby was naked, apart from a pair of stockings and a waist cincher. She was bent over some form of bar, or wood working horse, her wrists and ankles tied to the corners of the device. Bright red welts ran in deep, painful looking lines across her buttocks and, as Bobby raised her head, she noticed that the girl was wearing a bright red ball gag.

Alison was stunned as she took in her surroundings. The attic, which ran the length of the house, was huge. This would have been impressive in it owns right, but it was also crammed with the most bizarre furniture. Padded stools, with strange bars and cuffs, Chains hanging from the ceiling and walls, something that reminded Alison of a rack. Overall, she was reminded of a visit she had made on a day trip to the London Dungeon. She could not begin to guess the purpose of most of the strange contraptions that filled the space, but their purpose was obvious and Bobby, bound and gagged as she was, represented the application of that purpose.

She was so entranced that she did not hear Amanda close and lock the door behind her. The older woman’s voice echoed through the room and caused Alison to spin, nearly loosing her balance.

The older woman was dressed in a black glossy rubber cat suit, with impossibly heeled boots. She was holding a riding crop.

“We were not expecting you dear, but since you are here, perhaps you should join us.”

Alison looked from one woman to the other and was frightened by the level of lust in each woman’s gaze.

Frankfurters’ Diabolic Scheme

Alison woke gradually. There was a sour chemical taste in her mouth and her muscles ached painfully. She was definitely suffering from some ailment. A flu perhaps? Her head, while groggy however, did not spin when she sat up and slid off of the bed. Taking a gulp of water from the glass by her bed, she staggered over to inspect herself in the mirror. She looked pale and drawn, but she also noticed something else and she looked down to examine her wrists.

The red marks on her wrist were still visible and unbidden; a memory surfaced of her straining against the ropes which secured her wrists to a hook in one of the ceiling joists. She had been naked and standing on tiptoe. A sudden cracking noise had forced her to flinch, as pain shot through her back. Her scream was muffled by the large ball gag strapped to her face.

Panicked, Alison stripped off the nightgown and turned to examine herself in the mirror. Her back was criss crossed with long red welts that the whip had left in her tender flesh. Turning around she noted the red lines left by the riding crop and the bruises that covered the tender flesh of her breasts that had been delivered by a studded leather paddle.

“Yes,” Amanda’s voice boomed from the door. “You were quite unruly last night. I can see that your education has been quite lax. However, it is my duty to correct this shocking lapse, especially if you are to prove a suitable companion for my daughter.”

Amanda’s reflection gleamed maliciously at her in the mirror and Alison spun to face her tormentor.

“You crazy bitch, I’m leaving here now! We will see how you like the inside of a police cell.”

She strode towards the door confidently, but was intercepted by Bobby, who had been carrying a bundle of clothes, which she dropped on to the floor as she stepped in front of the door to block Alisons escape.

“Get out of the way Bobby. I don’t want to Arghh,” Alison screamed as Bobby stepped into her body and threw her to the floor.

The air was knocked out of her and she sat stunned as her hands were pinned behind her back as she herd a clicking sound and something cold and metallic gripped her wrists.

Alison struggled as the smaller girl pinned her to the floor and reached over to the pile of clothes that she had dropped.

“Get off me you crazy lesbo. Get your Arghh, Ungh,” Alison protested as her head was yanked back by her hair and something large and rubber was forced into her mouth and secured by straps that ran behind and over her head.

“As I said. Such shocking behaviour will not be tolerated. It is my Christian duty to ensure that you can comport yourself as a proper lady while you are under my roof and you do want to be a proper lady don’t you?” Amanda smirked.

Alison tried to struggle, but it was useless and the two women easily lifted her onto the bed. Bobby pinned her down while Amanda brought the pile of clothes over. Selecting a pair of White rubber stocking from the pile, Amanda rolled these up her legs, using her legs to trap the other flailing limb as she pulled the tight rubber garments up her legs. Once these were on, a pair of long, knee length rubber bloomers, with open crotch, were pulled up her legs and secured around her ass. These Alison noted, as she was pulled in to a sitting position, were pale yellow.

While Bobby held her by the shoulders as Amanda brought a pale yellow, heavily boned, corset from the pile of clothes. This was secured around the frightened girls’ waist before she was spun around and dumped, face first, onto the bed. Both women set to work, positioning themselves so that the maximum amount of force could be brought to bear. Alison had ceased her struggles and had now resolved to just get through this, whatever this was. However, it soon became hard to breathe as the two women pulled and prodded unmercifully. Eventually the task was complete and Amanda tied the laces into a complicated bow before attaching six suspenders, three on each leg, to the stockings. Although the corset, like the one that she had worn before, incorporated a girdle, this was much tighter somehow. The corset was also bustles. Satisfied, Amanda reached for the next item.

This was a mask, made of white leather. Bobby held Allison’s head as the mask was pulled over her head, collecting her hair into a long ponytail, which she threaded through a hole in the top of the leather. Bobby then forced her head back into the mattress as Amanda pulled the laces at the back of the mask, forcing the leather tightly onto her skin. Thankfully, or not, Alison had not decided yet, there were eyeholes that allowed her to pear out of her tight prison. Although there was no hole for the mouth, two nose holes allowed her to breathe.

Satisfied, Bobby pulled the girls head up once more as another mask, this time made of white rubber, was pulled over her head.

Finally Amanda brought a pair of strange looking, white patent leather, ankle boots to the bed and forced the prone girls feet in to them. These were nothing like Alison had ever seen before. They were designed to point the feet like ballet shoes. Unlike their more dainty cousins, these incorporated stiletto heal of evil proportions. Each boot was forced onto the now defeated girls’ feet before being tightly laced in place. Finally, she was stood up and supported on each arm. The two women then dragged their prize towards the attic.

Alison was amazed at the transformation within the attic. The two women had been busy while she slept. Where the strange saw horse stood last night stood a cylindrical plinth. Tall, full-length mirrors curved around one side of the cylinder and a strange metal pole sprouted obscenely from the centre of the plinth. On top of the pole was a strange, curved, saddle, with two phallic shapes protruding skyward. Alison could visualise the purpose of this strange saddle and began to struggle.

Amanda slapped her forcefully across the face, which stilled her struggles as the stunned girl stared in horror at the face of her captor.

“The first lesson that a young lady must learn is how to conduct herself in public. You should glide into a room, turning all heads with your grace and elegance. This first lesson will teach you deportment. You can always tell a lady of quality by her bearing.”

With that the two women grabbed Alison by the arms and carried her over to the platform. After lubricating the two dildos, Alison was lifted up before being eased gradually onto the two shafts. Despite the lubrication, it was not easy to effect the penetration as the two women struggled under her weight. However, after a little guidance and a painful experience that Alison would never forget, the girl eventually stood impaled in both orifices, on the platform.

Alison noted that she had not been impaled all of the way down to the saddle. In fact, the saddle rested a good inch below her pussy. Although confused, she was not about to mention this oversight, especially since she was already very uncomfortable.

Next the two women grabbed Allison’s ankles and forced them together. Alison heard a clicking sound and when her captors stood up, she found that she could not move her feet from their present position. Looking over her shoulder, at the mirrors, Alison could not see any chains, or obvious restraints. She concluded that the boots must have been attached to the floor by some locking mechanism.

Next, a hoped skirt was brought over and pulled over her head, giving her a bell shaped outline. Once secured, another skirt, made from white rubber, with tiny yellow flowers around the bottom was lowered into place.

The next item of clothing was a fine yellow dress, also made of rubber, with delicate white flowers and ribbons sewn into the body and skirt. This was lowered over her head and place over the under skirt. The body, for the moment, allowed to hang loose. Once this was in place, Bobby un-cuffed her, while holding on to one arm. Alison did not have long to ponder the meaning of this before a long, white, rubber opera glove was rolled up her arm. The two women changed places and another glove was applied, before her arms were forced into the long sleeved dress.

Alison had not noticed before, but the front of the dress had a panel cut out of it, that allowed her breasts to hang out of the front. While Amanda pulled the high collar of the dress up and started buttoning the back of the garment, Bobby adjusted the front of the dress so that the quarter length bra cups of the dress held her breasts proudly, while displaying everything they had to offer.

Alison was tempted by the idea of escape, but this, given the surprising strength of the two women and her current position, would prove fruitless and so she submitted as her arms were brought painfully together behind her and fed into a single white leather glove, which Amanda did up painfully as she pulled forcefully on the laces that ran the length of her arms, forcing them together until the elbows touched.

Lastly, a stiff rubber collar of pale yellow was placed around her neck. It ran the entire length of her neck and once secured by the laces at the back forced her head backwards, not allowing the slightest movement in any direction. As a final touch, two painful clamps with weights on them were forced onto her nipples, so that they swung slightly from the heaving of her chest as she breathed.

“There. All done. Now you look like a proper young lady,” Amanda beamed.

Walking forward, the older woman touched a button on the side of the plinth. Music started and the base began to spin. Alison was amazed and appalled by the implications of this simple act. She had been transformed into some sort of music box doll, to be admired and god knows what by these two evil creatures.

“As I said earlier, this lesson is about deportment. You might be tempted to sit down, on to the saddle, as your feet begin to hurt. However, I should warn you that this will start the dildos to begin working. You might not find it as comfortable a rest as you might hope.”

With that the older woman laughed and turned to her daughter. The two women embraced, kissed and began to undress. After a few minutes they had disappeared into a heap on the floor and as she craned her neck to see in the mirror as she rotated, she realised that they were having sex.

For some reason, she found this exciting and so eased herself onto the saddle. As promised, the two devices began to vibrate. Not only did they vibrate, but they also started to pump, up and down, in unison. It was not long before her orgasm arrived; rocking her body and sending sharp pain into her nipples as the weights were thrown about. But as soon as she had recovered from this one, another began to build and Alison forgot about the pain in her nipples as desire overtook her. After five orgasms, her pussy and ass were beginning to ache and so she lifted the weight from the saddle. This was easier said than done, since the strength had left her legs, but she managed it and the two devices stopped pleasuring her.

After nearly two hours however, her feet were in agony. She had to take the wait off of her feet and so she collapsed back on the saddle. The pumping was almost immediate and her pussy and ass became sore quickly. By the time that the two women returned, eight hours later, Alison was an exhausted, quivering wreck. Her pussy and anus had been rubbed raw and her feet felt as though they had been crushed in a vice.

The two women undressed her, fed her and oversaw her ablutions. Once she had recovered sufficiently from her ordeal, she was dragged over to the strange saw horse that she had noticed the previous evening. It now occupied a less prominent corner of the room, but was still effective for what was planned for the evening.

For the next two hours Alison was subjected to all manner of perversions that she could not have possibly imagined. She was dressed, stripped and re-dressed. Bound untied and re-tied. In order to “Keep Things Interesting,” as Amanda quoted on several occasions, she was beaten, whipped, sodomized and subject to the most appalling treatment that the two women could devise. Finally, she was strapped onto a hard bed, where they left her for the evening, her limbs flung out to the corners of the bed, secured by stout leather cuffs, a blindfold over her eyes, a large ball gag in to her mouth and completely naked.

Her pussy and ass still ached. Her feet were only just recovering and her nipples felt as though they had been cut off and sewn back on with razor wire. Alison did not know what awaited tomorrow, but she had the feeling that it would not be pleasant. She imagined the long, uncertain future with these two psychotic harpies and she cried, her sobs muffled by the intruder in her mouth. She was now their plaything; their toy and they could do whatever they wanted to her. At last sleep mercifully claimed her.

End

10.04.05