The Detectives And The Dominatrix

Part 5: And Emily Is Very Pleased Too

Emily is awake, always an early riser, and already on her laptop, checking her emails, organising any appointments.

Emily has always prided herself on understanding the human psyche, partly through her profession, where that psyche is often hidden under many layers. She thinks they hit it off very well during the first session. She watched them on the cctv after she had left them, how could they think she hadn’t thought of that? She hopes they did meet, and as she is thinking that very thought she sees a skype call coming in, and it’s from Carol. Oh, this could be interesting, thinks Emily, smiling. And suddenly, on the screen are two identical heads, well not heads but shimmering black rubber masks with eyeholes and, where the mouth should be, two very large rubber balls. She holds her breath for a second, but Emily has always been an expert in keeping her cool and adjusts immediately.

“Well well, what have we here? Two rubber subbies? And just as rubber subbies should be, masked and gagged, excellent.” Immediately she is into mistress mode, she is not sure what the skype is about, but has an idea.

“Well this is a treat, I assume it is Carol and Rubberuby,” she laughs, “and suitably attired and respectful. Communication will be limited though, so we will go by nods and shakes, all right? So are you here to report some news? Let me take the reins, eh Carol? Can I assume you met in the pub?”

They nod.

“And can I assume that you both went back to Carol’s house?” A nod.

“And can I assume that a good time was had by all?” Two enthusiastic nods.

“Well I can’t say I am surprised, but,” she grins, “nonetheless very happy. You do both look divine like that, two rubber dollies, cute silent puppies, I just want to take you both and press you to my boobs, make you get to work.” The two masked women grin behind their gags.

“Let’s have a look at you, show me your breasts, I assume you are naked.” It’s a request, but also a command and so Carol dips the screen and Emily is confronted by four magnificent naked breasts.

“Hhmm, very impressive indeed, now I’ve said to you both that they would be so perfect once pierced and either ringed or rod and shackled. Are either of you ready for that yet?” There is even a slight pleading in her voice, and the women look at each other, and then both shake their heads, but Emily notes that their reply was not immediate, and this gives her hope.

“Let’s have a look at the rest of you, I am not dressed as your mistress, I’m afraid, having come from the shower.” The subs don’t mind though, she looks fresh and beautiful, in a thick towelling dressing-gown, her hair still damp. They stand and take a few steps back, now suddenly a little shy. Emily sees Carol in her sheer stockings and tiny panties, and then Ruby in her white rubber girdle panties.

“Ruby, perfect, I knew you would look great in them.” Carol hhmms and points at Ruby’s panties and then at herself and Emily gets the message immediately.

“Oh and you want a pair too, do you?” She laughs. “Well I can’t blame you, you would look magnificent in them, all right, if you behave yourself, or not, ha ha, I’ll get you a matching pair, a larger size for that wonderful bum of yours, and you two can play together in them, or even better, go to work in them, that would be exciting for you. And Carol, those stocking and panties are very tasty, but would be so much better in transparent rubber, I think. Turn around the two of you, I want to see my handiwork, now drop your panties.” It sounded so bizarre, this young woman commanding these two other women, masked and gagged to drop ‘em. But they did, without a second’s thought. God, they are wonderful Emily thought, I am so lucky to have them.

“Hhmm, we’ll have to take a break with you Carol, those stripes will take a week, or two to properly heal, they must still hurt a bit, yes?” And Carol cocked her head, and then nodded.

“You are a tough one for sure, Ruby, yours too will need a week to heal, you’re coming on well. Okay, come back to the screen here. I am assuming from now on you will want to have joint sessions, and you can watch and feed off each other, yes? Good?”

And here Carol pointed at Ruby, and then herself and rubbed her finger and thumb together, then pointed to herself.

“No, no Carol, there is no need to pay for Ruby, it will be the same rate for the two of you. There will be no additional charge, besides I get twice the challenge and twice the fun, and I have an arrangement with Ruby, don’t I dear? So no more about fees, all right?” Carol looked confusedly at Ruby and then Emily, but Emily shook her head firmly.

“Well, great news, and thanks for keeping me posted. Now we all have to get to work I think, yes? And I don’t think those are your work clothes, so off you go and text or phone me for your next appointment. Frankly I can’t wait.” And she was gone.

Despite taking a bit of credit for her matchmaking, she thinks that apart from the common denominator, herself, what else had they in common? Spirited, bright, assertive, successful yes, all of these, but they were from very different backgrounds, education, and yes, class. Maybe it all didn’t matter, for they were certainly compatible during the sessions in her stable. One fed off the other, enjoying seeing the other teased and tormented by Emily, and then being subjected to her talents themselves.

She sees them three weeks later.

This time, after a gentle reminder from Emily, Carol brings along an envelope, which she says to her mistress are her drawings, “suggestions” for her horse head harness and bit. It seems now that Carol has taken another step, at least one more step to playing the role of pony. This Emily thinks is partly precipitated by her budding relationship with Ruby. They have told her they changed roles in their private sexual life, which involved just normal sex, but sometimes one the dominant and then the other.

Emily, her antennae up, figures that Ruby, the smaller physically and the less intellectual certainly, seems to be taking, just marginally, the dominant role. This she finds interesting, perhaps against the norm. Carol seems quite content with this. And Emily rather likes that arrangement.

Now they are finishing a very successful session.

Rubberuby is in her favourite inflatable body bag, swinging very slowly, her eyes half closed, in her own world, loving every second of it. She has come at least half a dozen times as Emily cruelly plays with her, squealing through her butterfly gag as Emily pinches her nipples, rubs her clit, pushes in the base plate of her butt plug. Emily is now standing by the running machine as Carol walks, having had a good twenty-minute work-out.

She is no longer dressed as a schoolgirl, she still likes to do that, but Emily wants her now to concentrate on the pony girl angle, to see if Carol is really serious about it. Carol is dressed in a body-hugging thick rubber long-sleeved leotard. Her hands are in matching mitts and have been drawn up behind her back, not too uncomfortably, and attached to a high collar, under which she has tucked the collar of a matching rubber mask, with only eye, nose and mouth holes. Bells are clamped onto her hard nipples and they have tinkled beautifully as she ran hard. Emily is still disappointed that there are no nipple rings yet, but she would give it time.

Carol is walking calmly, she now has no problem with the hoof boots, even when running at some considerable speed. She may be in the mid to late 30’s Emily thought, but she has the body of a fit 20-year-old, and certainly more voluptuous.

Emily wears her dom outfit, all in black, long loose-sleeved blouse tucked into gloves, studs from waist to neck, tight across her bust, flared skirt to mid calf over shimmering stockings and 4 inch heeled stilettos. All this makes her feel empowered.

A Perfect Design

“We are near the end of our session, Carol, I have some questions, observations now, so you may reply.” Carol nods, and continues to walk, occasionally accompanied by a tinkle from a nipple bell. Emily is obviously familiar with pony play but having her “office” in the city meant she has never actually undertaken it with a client. Now she has the land at the rear, secure, enclosed, private, and this has tweaked her interest.

Carol is a horsewoman, knows all about tack, and has, it seemed, used this brilliantly to design a complete costume/uniform for herself. Even Emily is a little taken aback by the intricate design. Emily has opened the envelope containing Carol’s sketches, interested to see what she may have come up with. There are perhaps 15 to 20 sketches on A4 sized paper. She skims them quickly.

“Oh, oh my goodness, these are…extraordinary.” She looks up at Carol, who continues to keep up the slow pace of the machine, her nose ring attached to the front bar. Carol, head forward, nods.

“But these are beautiful, this is charcoal, yes? I had no idea you had such an artistic talent.” Again a somewhat embarrassed nod from Carol. “You must have spent a lot of time over them, did Rubberuby help you with any of the…erm designs.” A silent shake of the head, as Emily looks over and Ruby shakes her head too.

They are not sketches at all, but superb, classic anatomical drawings. There are head portraits, full front, side and even at a side angle. These show a head, a female head within a complex arrangement of smooth, what appear to be leather straps, brass buckles and then bit and bridle. These are shown in greater detail, particularly the design of the bit and its connection to the head harness. But Carol has done a lot more than that. Emily is shocked to see that there are also full body illustrations indicating a complex arrangement of harness, a body corset, neck corset, and they also show the butt plug and flowing wavy tail and nipple bells. This is well beyond what Emily had expected.

But what catches Emily’s eye, other than the artist’s skill, is that the woman in all the drawings is clearly Carol. This is no anonymous model, this is a self portrait, a very good self portrait by Carol, but as an obedient pony – bridled, corseted and bitted – completely under control. For two or three minutes Emily examines them, saying nothing, as Carol walks, and Ruby hangs silently, watching her. Then Emily comes next to Carol.

“Hmm, so, okay, let’s see. We’ll get to the head later, but first the erm, harness. I can see it is like a corset, tight at the waist, over the hips, and up to under the breasts. These rings at the side, these are…”

“For attaching the arms of the buggy, mistress.” Says Carol quickly in her well modulated, educated accent.

“Right, right, now this can be connected by this yoke design to the posture collar, yes?”

“Hmm, hmm, straps at the back and front - between the breasts - connect with the neck corset. It is for good posture for the…pony, when she runs. And the mittened hands of the wom…pony can be drawn back and chained to the rings at the back of the collar, or the sides, making her completely powerless. There is also a ring at the front.” She is talking calmly, coolly, which makes Emily quite uncomfortable.

“Hmm okay. The nipple bells how are these…”

“By clamps.”

“Not rings?”

A hesitation. “Erm no.”

“That’s all right.” She places her hand on Carol’s rubber covered buttock, which quivers under her touch, and nods.

“Plenty of time. When you are ready, it’s your decision.” Carol expels some air while Emily studies some more drawings.

“These two head drawings with all these dotted lines connecting mouth, nose, ears, around the head, there must be twenty of them, all numbered here.”

“Measurements,” she replies calmly, “it’s imperative the harness fits perfectly, so there’s no chafing, no rubbing. If the…pony is wearing a mask underneath the measurements must allow for that, so taking the measurements it’s wise to add on just a very small amount for the mask.”

Emily notes she was talking dispassionately, almost in the third person, as if she isn’t going to be the one wearing this harness, but she knows that she is. Yes, she is clearly aware that it is she that will be wearing this, after all she has designed it. Is she trying to distance herself from this reality? Emily finds it a little odd, but also rather touching, endearing.

“Good, yes, okay, we can do the measurements later. Now…we can move to the head. Hhmm, soft leather straps, over the head, around the cheeks, over and under the ears, under the chin, and a ring at the crown…”

“For pulling the mane through.” Carol says quickly.

“And we can see that the pony also has a flowing tail, sprouting from between her buttocks.” She is leading her on now. Carol nods, taking a breath. Is this the moment?

“Yes, well, as you, mistress, said, hair grows…” Carol glances nervously across at her mistress and Emily beams in reply.

“Indeed I did, and so…my lovely pony, you are saying you are ready to provide yourself with a perfect pony tail?”

Carol takes a breath, closes her eyes.

“I don’t know why I’m allowing…doing this, but yes. I have decided that.” And nods. Emily strokes her buttock.

“Easy, easy Carol, I’m not pulling teeth here, my dear. I’ll make you a nice perky pageboy cut, but shorter, and it will grow back of course.” Carol nods, resigned, accepting.

“Carol, I’m so happy you have agreed to this, you will not be disappointed, really. You look so unhappy now, come on Carol, if this is going to make you despondent, then I won’t go ahead with it. I want you happy, that’s all I want, don’t you see that?”

Carol takes a while to reply, still walking comfortably in the hoof boots.

“Yes, I understand, I do. Part of me wants to be a really good, obedient pony, yes, I’ve thought about that so many times, I’m ready for it, actually quite excited, bitted and tailed, but it is a big step, losing it all, or most of it. I know it will grow back, but just allow me, dammit,” she takes a breath, “to feel a little sorry for myself.” Emily stops the treadmill, steps up beside her, places an arm around her, kisses her cheek.

“My dear Carol, you are going to love this. If you want to delay it, postpone, cancel, I will respect you and love you just as much.”

“No, no, I’m ready. Whenever you want, I just threw a bit of a tantrum there, that’s all.” Emily chuckles and kisses her cheek again. 

“Oh, Ruby is so lucky having a lovely woman like you. All right, let’s move on, now we have some details of the bit, and Carol, I’m a little concerned here, these look quite…nasty, this bit could be painful and I don’t want…”

“Excuse me mistress, may I…it is important that the wom…pony be kept under full control at all times by her mistress. She is after all, a dumb animal that must be subjugated, she must know who her mistress is, she must trust her mistress fully.” Again Emily notes the third person, the cool demeanour of Carol has returned, focussed, almost detached, so she let her continue.

“Ponies need to know they have no independent opinion, they make no decisions themselves, that what they need, actually seek, is control by their mistress.” She turned her head and looked at her mistress. “They will learn quickly, and this bit will be a very clear reminder of who is in control.” She takes a deep breath. “You. The bit fits comfortably into the pony’s mouth, not too far in, for it is the tongue depressor that will control her. The bit is rubber coated steel, there is no point in having a pony with mouth sores, and it will fit just behind the canines, not all the way back.” Again, so dispassionate, my god, she has really thought this through.

“It is attached to a swivel either side of the mouth, and this is the important feature. When the reins are pulled back, and this works as well if the mistress is in front and pulling the pony forward, the depressor will twist up,” she hesitates, “and into the palate.”

“Yes, yes I see, now I want to see this…depressor here in more detail. It’s curved like a tongue, to fit over the..”

“Yes, over the tongue of the pony, and curved to the back of the throat. If there is no tongue depressor and just a bit, well, then the pony can still talk - communicate, perhaps not clearly but in garbled words.” She stops, forming her next thoughts, then coolly continuing.

“A pony doesn’t talk, communicate, she is there to be obedient to her mistress. To do her will, whatever that may be.” She stares at her mistress, well aware of what she has said.

“I understand Carol, but at the top of this…depressor, these look like rubber barbs, sharp spikes. If the reins are pulled, then these spikes will be…”

“Pressed into the pony’s palate. Yes. I have not design…they have not been designed to break the skin, they are rubber, they can be quite soft rubber, that is up to the pony’s mistress to decide, of course. But they will be a constant reminder to the wom…pony that she must be obedient, if she is completely obedient, then she will only receive this reminder when pulled up. If she’s not fully submissive to her mistress’ commands then she will receive the correct chastisement, as it should be.” She is staring ahead now, well aware of what she has said.

“Hhmm, I don’t know, Carol, I’m not sure about these barbs at all. I’ll have to think about that. I don’t want my wom…pony hurt unnecessarily. Yes, this is about obedience, of course, I understand that but roleplay, and I don’t want you…the pony, my pony in any pain or discomfort, I won’t have that. Caning or whipping you is different to this.”

Carol takes a moment before replying, cool and logical.

“Yes mistress, you cane me regularly, I have the stripes to prove it, and yes, it hurts, and you punish my nipples and force plugs into my anal passage. I disagree with you, pardon me, but when you think about it, it really is no different.” She stares at Emily, almost teasing her for a reply, which Emily chooses not to give, she knows Carol is right, she just doesn’t like to admit it. But she has great affection for Carol, they go a long way back, there is a trust, even love there, and she doesn’t want to lose that, by taking their games, their roleplay too far, even if Carol is requesting it unwittingly.

“We’re meant to be pushing ourselves here, but it is meant to be fun, I’m not having your mouth bruised or bleeding and that’s it, as I say, I’ll think on it.” She takes a breath. “Now these slim chains, attached from the nose ring to the ends of the bit, I don’t see…”

“They are more for show than anything else, mistress. A pull on the rein to steer right or left will pull the bit and an obedient pony will follow, there may be slight extra tension on the septum, but not much, it will be the depressor that will keep her sharp.” Again, the third person.

“All right, I see that. Okay, finally these blinkers.”

“Yes, they are rubber padded foam to fit perfectly into the pony’s eye sockets. They are attached to a swivel so can be kept open or locked closed over her nose. The pony will then be completely blind, and therefore likely to be considerably more attentive, and obedient. And she will trust, must trust her mistress to guide her. And her mistress must know what she’s doing, it is a big responsibility to have a blinkered pony under control.”

With this Carol looks down into the mirror, almost impassively, and their eyes lock, nothing needs to be said. She is challenging Emily as well. She is quite clear in her intentions. This calm, cool, elegant woman describes how she is to be harnessed, and bitted, and plugged, and more, to become a completely obedient pony girl, and this, even given her experience in these matters, truly surprises Emily. But Emily also knows that she has a big responsibility as well, to be an expert horsewoman, and she will have to learn fast, it seems. Carol is clearly undaunted.

“All right, I’ll get these off to a designer/supplier I have used before, we’ll take your measurements, there are a lot here of the head.” Emily removes the nose ring from Carol’s septum, turns her around to face her, their eyes locking.

“And after that, my dear…future pony,” she strokes her breast, “we’ll create your beautiful pony tail.”

Over the next half hour, she meticulously takes down measurements in complete silence. She can see that Carol is now deep in thought, perhaps even wondering if this is such a good idea now. Ruby has watched all this in silence, saliva dripping from her gag, swinging imperceptibly in her rubber bag. Even she is not so sure about some of the harness’ features and is concerned the woman who she had very quickly grown to love has maybe gone a little too far so early. But she’s grown to know her mistress, Emily, well and trusts her implicitly. She also knows her lover, and when she gets the bit between her….yes, well.

Snip, Snip

After taking all the measurements, Emily gets Carol to sit in the gyn/ob chair, making a joke that it would have to do as a hairstylist’s chair for now. She can see Carol is now tense. Her beloved long grey/blonde locks are about to go, they will grow again, but that will take time. Just to emphasise her dominant position Carol straps Carol’s arms, legs, chest, ankles and waist to the chair, and then seeing how nervous she is, gets an idea.

“You look as if you are going to the guillotine, Carol, come on, it’s not the end of the world. You know, I think we need the services of Ruby to get you to relax.”

Quickly she deflates the body bag, and extricates a gleaming, sweaty Ruby, who initially looks a bit confused.

“Don’t worry Ruby, you’re going to like this. And it will take Carol’s mind off it all.” Ruby’s wrists are then cuffed behind her back, the butterfly gag removed, and she is rather unceremoniously dropped on her knees, between Carol’s outstretched legs, facing her exposed pussy.

“I think you know the rest.” Emily pats her head affectionately and Ruby drops her face onto the moist lips of her lover. After only a few seconds, it seems to calm Carol and now Emily collects sharp scissors, comb, a series of wide, thick rubber bands, and a pot of quick hardening rubber cement. After removing carol’s mask she pulls the bands one after the other, over Carol’s pony tail and arranges them above the existing band that had held her hair that evening. Carol starts to fidget, wiggling her fingers, then whispers.

“Look, maybe we could wait another couple of weeks I mean…aaargh, gggrrr, mmmmff.”

Emily had anticipated Carol’s vacillation, and has kept a soft rubber ball gag handy, and without warning silences the woman.

“Enough, Carol enough, it will grow back fast, so get over it.” She is the tough mistress again, and takes the scissors and waiting no longer, gripping the pony tail firmly and sssssssnnnip, it’s off, she holds the pony tail aloft, as Carol stares at her and moans quietly. It is about 14 or 15 inches long and will be perfect for tickling her buttocks and thighs as she walks or trots. Emily dips the end into the pot of viscous glue, raises it and twirls it, allowing it to air dry. Quickly it resembles the end of a torpedo, or perhaps a cock even, but it is drying quickly.

“All right, still alive? You’ll be fine Carol, just concentrate on what Ruby is doing down there. This will be glued into its steel base, like a candle holder or large thimble. That will have a bayonet fitting at a 90 degree angle and that will fit a number of butt plugs I am ordering, especially for you. You will find those interesting. Once in, it will sprout upwards and outwards nicely from your bum, yes, the perfect pony tail. Now do I have to keep you gagged or can I cut your hair properly.” Carol nods slowly, Emily can see a single tear in her eye. Emily shakes her head in surprise. This is a woman who I can whip until her buttocks are blue/red/purple, and here she is crying over her lost hair, gorgeous though it is, women! She chuckles. Ruby is doing her bit and she can see that her lover has relaxed her a lot, in fact she is beginning to shudder a little under Ruby’s attentions. She removes the gag, and on impulse, kisses her gently, holding it for a few seconds, breathing her aroma.

“You’ll survive, my dear subbie, pretty soon you will have two magnificent matching pony tails, one on head and one sprouting from your gorgeous bum.”

Emily has no training in hair design, but it is all pretty obvious, she figures. The shortest of Carol’s hair is at her crown, maybe just over an inch and a half or so. Thus, the rest has to be cut to compliment this, and she sets to it. Twenty minutes later she is done, and thinks she’s done a good job, it is perky, a bit boyish, not that much unlike Ruby’s, not a brush or crew cut, but it had real style. And it suits Carol. She produces a mirror, like all good stylists.

Carol’s eyes are closed at first, but she opens them and…is not horrified, not shocked, but surprised, pleasantly so, at what Emily has done. She nods silently as Ruby emerges from her pussy, her face glistening and sees her lover’s new cut. With a wide grin, she nods. Emily releases them both, after which they embrace. It seems to Emily that all has been forgiven. She can move on with her training, for she is certain that Carol will be a wonderful pony.

A Visit – At Last

Chief Inspector Sam Benson pulls the car in front of the cottage, very isolated, pretty, roses around the door, well kept, lovely English garden, and some stables to the right. Hhmm, he’s impressed. He is nervous, he isn’t sure why, but it has been a long time, and he’s been thinking about this for much of that time. Should he really be here? Shouldn’t he have phoned first? Too late now. He knocks on the very solid old door, and hears movement from inside and then hears a familiar voice.

“Have I got it wrong, you’re half an hour early, oh dear, looks like I’ll have to punish…” The door opens.

“Oh….aaaahh, oh, well, this is a surprise.” He can see she is shocked, but like the Emily that he knew before, she quickly adjusts and calms. “Hhmm, I really should get a peephole, one day. I’d give the postman a hell of a shock.” She laughs, then bites her lower lip, standing still, taking stock of him, perhaps wondering what to do next, a little shocked still, but then she smiles broadly, such a warm smile, a beautiful smile.

“Detective Chief Inspector, as you can see, you have the advantage of me, but, well, it is nice to see you, very nice indeed. Look, erm, erm, I am expecting a couple of clients in half…”

“Yes, oh, of course, it was stupid of me to drop by without calling, look I’m sorry, I can come back another…” He dithers by the door.

“No,” she almost shouts, “nonono, come in, it’s been what? Three or four months, and we have at least half an hour, forgive my…” she runs her black rubber gloved hand down her black rubber mid-calf length skirt. She stands back, “if you’ll excuse the erm, working gear, do please come in, I like to get dressed early, to get into the mindset; well, never mind about…come in, please. Gosh, it is good…” She realises she is babbling a bit, and he notices this, rather unlike the ice cool Emily. He passes by her, breathing in the sweet aroma of the rubber encasing her, a smell he is now very familiar with. She motions him to the kitchen,

“I think we have time for a cuppa, yes?” It is beautifully decorated in “Victorian chic”. He takes a seat at the rustic old oak table. She turns her back to him, fiddling with the kettle, she seems nervous, so out of character for Emily, he thinks. This allows him a few seconds to scrutinise her.

He admires her rear, the loose folds of the rubber skirt rustle as she moves to get the cups. Below the skirt are four-inch black pumps, black rubber stockings and her waist is pulled in by a brutally boned corset supporting her ample breasts, under which is a brilliant white long-sleeved shirt, buttoned to her throat. Her breasts are almost bursting out through the shirt, accentuated by the tight corset. Her raven hair is pulled back in a loose chignon, her make-up, although she doesn’t need any at all, is perfect, bright scarlet lipstick and light green eye shadow to match her eyes. He has not forgotten how beautiful she is, quite the contrary, and he almost has to force himself to breathe.

“So you tracked me down. You really are good at what you do.” She turns to him, appraising him as well. Yes, he is a handsome fellow, and he looks a bit nervous too, she thinks.

“I’m a cop, it’s what I do, but you did a good job, selling your place, moving to the country. I think the tabloids will leave you alone now, you’re too hard to find and anyway, they’ll move onto a new salacious story. Sorry, but you’re old news.” He smiles at his bad joke.

“Oh, I’m happy to be old news, or no news at all, believe me. I can get back to my profession,” she smiles at the term, “which you know I love, without interference. This is not a police matter is it? God, what have I done now?” She looks a little concerned for a second.

“No, no, it’s a social call, if that’s all right.” She turns and smiles again.

“Yes, that’s more than all right, of course, it’s been a long time.” He now frowns.

“Look,” he puts his hands on the fine shiny oak, he wants to get this out straightaway, “I want to say that I am sorry you had to move, there was no way this story could be kept quiet, we did our best to keep a lid on it, but we had a leak in the station, so the tabloids fed on it, it should never have happened. I feel very bad about it.”

She sits opposite him, pulling the shiny rubber skirt under her, and gives him his antique cup on a very ornate saucer, she is so close he can smell the rubber encasing her. He finds it hard not to stare at her. She takes a sip of tea, then their eyes lock again.

“You don’t have to apologise, as that terrible phrase goes, it is what it is, oh, I hate that phrase, what does it mean anyway, ha ha,” now she smiles ruefully, “anyway, getting out of town is good for me, I like it here in the country, I actually like the solitude, listening to the birds and all that corny stuff, I’m getting to like gardening even.” She gave a throaty laugh.

“And you look very well for it, very, erm fit. I’m glad, very glad.”

“Fit? Hmmm. Well thank you, sir.” She bows her head.

“But as you can see, you can take the naughty girl out of the city, but you can’t…well you know. I have to make a living, Detective Chief Inspector, and this,” she ran her gloved hand down her torso…he wonders how she can breathe in it, “is what I do best, very well indeed in fact”.

“You don’t have to say anything or have to defend yourself in any way. As I say, I’m delighted that all is well with you. Seems to me that you’re pretty good at everything, at least from what I’ve seen.” 

“No, but I do feel I have to explain. Look,” she leaned closer to him and he realises he’s stopped breathing, “I can’t do regular work, ha ha, the psychiatric consulting was all right and I think I was okay at it, but I found that after the hour was up, half of my clients would bugger off to a dom or call girl and get what they really wanted. The last thing they wanted was to be “cured”. So many fetishists or subbies don’t, they just want to be left alone, or with a partner to get on with their harmless jollies, what the hell is wrong with that? With me they feel no guilt, and I am the perfect outlet, respect, you see, that’s all they want. Sorry, that was a bit of a rant.”

He holds his hands up.

“It’s okay, really. I do understand. It wasn’t necessary…” Then she looks hard at him.

“It’s been a long time since I saw you…” She cocks her head to the side, she would like an explanation clearly.

“Yes, yes, I know, I really wanted to come, but I thought it would be better if…” he stumbles.

“Take it easy Chief Inspector, it’s fine, and you are always busy, you are one of the Met’s stars, I know that, so anyway, yes, I set up the stables to the side here, spent a lot of money, but I did well on the house in town, just got lucky.” She leans over to him, as if sharing a secret. “You know I think the purchasers rather liked the idea it was a house of sin, maybe they are into BDSM and rubber and are using the basement to get their own jollies, that would please me a lot.” She laughs then sips her tea again, he finds he can hardly take his eyes off her, she is stunning.

“Let’s go to the living room, more comfortable there.”

But It’s All Very Uncomfortable

The room is cosy, warm, very un-dominatrix, lots of books, comfy couches, old oils on the wall, oak beam ceiling, just high enough for him not to lower his head, very old fireplace, oriental rugs over ancient red brick, very old solid furniture, country-set all right, but warm and personal without being showy in any way. He hates showy. He likes it straightaway and sits on a couch with the newspaper open, yet still feeling a bit of an intruder.

The laptop is on an escritoire by the bay window. Volume turned down, but he glances at it, feeling a bit like a peeping tom, but somehow he can’t resist.

“I have as much privacy as I need, and the stables have been fully renovated to my, erm needs. I have contacted all my clients and they don’t mind a short drive up to the country to satisfy their desires, or a train ride and I can pick them up. It’s all fine now. It really is.”

“Good, I am glad, I’m delighted for you.”

There is silence now for a few seconds, then they both speak together, and both laugh nervously.

“No, you first.” She says.

“Well I just felt you disappeared so quickly before I could thank you, for, well, everything - you did save my life, and Ruby’s, Sergeant Adams’ as well, and that’s not something I will ever forget”. Then silence again, she smiles.

“Well yes, I did, ha ha, you owe me your life, Chief Inspector, now how shall I get you to pay me back? Perhaps I could make you my rubber slave once a week?” She is expecting shock or mockery on his face, but he just stares back, raising his eyebrow and lowering the sides of his mouth.

“Nonono, I’m jesting, of course, I’m sorry if I shocked you, but,” she leans closer to him, so close he can smell her earthy aroma mixed with the rubber, “you are forgetting one thing, as I said to your sergeant, you saved mine. If you had not turned up, Mrs. Kemp would have had me strung up, and swinging…and dead. And with a clever note to implicate me in her husband’s murder, and who knows you, the brilliant detective, might have believed it. I hope not though, you’re a very clever cop, I think you’d have figured it out in the end, but I’d have been long dead.” She smiles ruefully. “Anyway it doesn’t matter, you and I are here now.” She sips her tea. “I may be lots of things, but not a murderer, right? So, Chief Inspector, I should be thanking you, for arriving in the nick of time. And I am, thanking you in my mind, every day. I wouldn’t be here without you and your sergeant.”

She takes a few seconds to continue, and he is still finding it hard to take his eyes from her stunning costume, and how well she fills it.

“You don’t owe me anything, Chief Inspector, we are even, it’s all good, as they say. The only thing that irritates me, no, more than that it makes me a bit angry, is that it has taken this long for you to come here and see me, say hello. Surely that can’t be too hard? Do I, the tough dominatrix, intimidate you that much?”

He shakes his head, she is so forward it takes him off balance.

“No, no, I just thought you might want to get on with your life, getting it back together, sell, buy, move, settle in. It was a traumatic evening we had, you know, you have to put that all behind you, it was pretty frightening. We all nearly died there. My goodness that was a strange, terrible time, that I’ll never forget, she really was a crazy, dangerous woman.” He looks up. “But you, my god, took care of her.”

He looks down at the table.

“But I do apologise for what she made, forced you to, it can’t have been…” And Emily actually laughs.

“Oh please, Chief Inspector, let’s be adults here. Hhmm?” She places a cool rubber gloved hand on his forearm. He almost shakes.

“Okay, let’s get this out in the open, shall we? She forced me to stick a butt plug up your rear, all right, that was probably not very nice for you, I know that, having been at the business end with her for the first time when she plugged me too. No, not nice, although it is for some, not you though, not yet, ha ha.” She holds her hands up. “Just joking.” Now she leans over again, her face inches from his.

“So with both of us plugged, she then forced me to suck your cock, swallow your sperm, your cum, every drop, and lick you clean.” She pauses. “There, I’ve said it. Big deal. Big bloody deal. Look at me, Chief Inspector, both of us could have easily died that night and poor Ru…that sergeant of yours. You nearly did, so don’t you think me sucking you off was the least of our problems, hhmm? Yes, I’m a dom, And doms don’t do that, my work comes before pleasure, and no, not that it’s really any of your business anyway, I don’t have a boyfriend. If you think about it, not many men would have me, knowing what I do, too much to handle. And so I don’t get to suck cock very much at all.” She stops, watching his reaction, but he’s impassive, perhaps hiding his shock at her plain speaking.

“I’m shocking you, no doubt. Anyway, it really wasn’t that awful.” She laughs that throaty laugh again. “When she pushed my head down on you and your hard cock almost went down my throat, I actually began to suffocate, yes, I gagged and thought she was actually going to asphyxiate me on your cock, well that would have been an interesting one for your SOCO friends, wouldn’t it? Death by cock. But you know Chief Inspector, it could have turned out a lot worse, okay? So lighten up.”

She pats him softly on his hand.

“Anyway, despite being trussed up in rubber, sucking on a rubber cock as a gag, and stretched out in the frame…” she smiles, “you didn’t take long in getting hard, did you,” she raises her eyebrows, teasing him, “so I’ll take that as a compliment, and you’re quite big and muscly by the way, I know you guys like to be told you’re big.”

She was playing with him, rather enjoying him being so uncomfortable. At last he replied.

“I don’t know how you can laugh it off so easily, we did nearly die in there.”

“You’re changing the subject, we were talking about me sucking you off, Chief Inspector, ha ha. There, I’ve said it again. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it, given the circumstances, but under different circumstances, well, hhmm, who knows? But we’re still here and I’m doing just fine, thanks, and you are too, I’m sure. And talking of changing the subject,” she smiles, “I saw you solved another nasty murder the other week, well done.” He lowers his head. “Don’t go fake embarrassed on me Chief Inspector, yes, I’m keeping an eye on you, sir. You must be up for Superintendent soon, star that you are.” There is no sarcasm in her voice, she is genuinely happy for him.

“No, no, it’s been talked about but I like being in the field, they’re thinking of it I know, I would be one of the youngest in the country, but not for me, not yet. Too much deskwork.” And then Emily decides she will go fishing.

“And how is your sergeant? What a nice girl, we got off on the wrong foot at first, but she’s a tough cookie all right.”

“Oh, Sergeant Adams, Ruby, yes, well she’s moved to another station. I’m very sorry not to have her with me, she was great and I gave her a golden recommendation, but you understand that after what happened in your basement, we have a lot of erm, stuff going on between us. And I certainly wasn’t in the best of moods for a while. Being close to death and all that. You know we saw a lot of each other, in more ways than one, in that basement.” He takes a sip of cold tea, concentrating on the fireplace, now almost unaware of Emily’s presence.

“And although she said nothing, I know it was me that got her into that mess, it was all my fault, absolutely, and I still can’t forgive myself, if I died, well that’s fine, but I was so close to being responsible for her demise, god, and yours too. So she must have felt we should break, there was a bit of, well not tension, but we sure found out a lot about each other that night. She may be back, I’d like that, she’s a really tough girl. But what happened to her then, I take full responsibility for what happened, I’m sure she does blame me, and she’d be right, she said nothing of course, she’s too classy for that, but I feel it. I got her into that, and she could have died and it would have been my fault, 100%. She’s a great cop, and I know she will do really well. So no, we haven’t kept in touch, I don’t know why, stupid really, I do actually miss her by my side.” He seems sad with this observation.

Emily nods, she knows so much more than she can tell, and is genuinely sorry for Benson, this rather shy, sensitive man.

“It’s too bad, you were a good team, I am sorry. But don’t worry about Ruby, er your sergeant, I’m sure she’s back on her feet already, maybe even the better for it. You should contact her, you really should, what’s in the past is gone now, you’re both too close not to at least say hello again.” She moves to another topic, knowing this one is over. “And you are well too, moved on to new cases, that’s good.”

“Yes, and the papers hardly mentioned our case after the hearing, which was good. Once the Super had seen the memory stick, and shown it to the DPP, well it was hard to refute, wasn’t it? So she pleaded guilty and it was just a matter of a sentencing hearing. I’m so glad you didn’t have to give evidence, that would have been the last straw.” She nods.

“And the tapes, or stick?”

“Oh, them, yes, under lock and key in the evidence room. It’ll stay there of course, but Miss Gunn…I can assure you, only the DPP, the defence lawyer, my Super and the presiding judge have seen it, to my knowledge. But of course there was the leak, it was thankfully a bit vague, and there will be rumours out there, and the tabloids jump on them. The contents were pretty explicit for sure, but there is nothing I can do now,” he smiles ruefully, “I just hope it stays under lock, no doubt some greasy newshound would pay good money for that video if they knew about it. My Super, by the way, was incredibly impressed with you getting us out of the mess we were in. I think he’d like to sign you up. He gave me a bollocking, of course, rightly so, but it won’t go on my record. You are really the hero here, but I get the good press, brilliant detective saves the day, what a load of crap, but it has to stay like that. We all came out of it okay I suppose, everyone, the old goat of a judge too. We’ll try and keep it under wraps, but who knows.”

“Well, I live with that possibility every day, no, for me it’s past, although it was a memorable evening all right.” She strokes her skirt pensively.

“And you really tracked me down just to say thank you?”

“No, not to just say thank you, I wanted to be sure that you were okay, and I can see you are, more than okay, you look fantastic, and I love the place you have here, which pleases me enormously. I have to say I’m very relieved.” He sees a bead of perspiration on her temple and wants to dab it. She must be hot in all that rubber, but doesn’t show it, she really can be the cool ice queen, he thinks.

They hear a car on the pebbled driveway.

“Aaaah, my clients, I’m doing double duty today,” she smiles, “and on time, so no extra punishment for them, ha ha, pity.”

“Well I have to go then, I’m sorry about just turning up, maybe if I had called you wouldn’t have said yes to me coming, so I decided to just come on the spur.”

She looks genuinely offended.

“What makes you say that, how can you think that? That’s just a really stupid thing to say. Bloody stupid, of course I would have liked to…”

“Well, me being a cop and you being…”

“Oh come on, Chief Inspector, get over it, I do what I do, very well, and so do you, I see no conflict there, I declare everything and pay my taxes and break no laws, I told you that already, so I don’t see what this cop issue is. I am glad you came, very glad. It’s good to see you. Very good…but you took your damn time about it.” She looks angry for a second and then ponders.

“Look, why not stay here for a while, I have an hour with my clients, that’s all, maybe a bit more.”

“So you, entertain two at the same time?”

She laughs.

“Well I wouldn’t say entertain, but yes, sometimes I do take on more than one client at a time, and these two are an item - lovers, and they want the full treatment, both of them like to have another take them in hand, so to speak. They are often busy, both professionals and well respected, who just happen to have a submissive side, but obviously can’t show it in the boardroom or workplace. It’s really quite common to come across these people in my business. You have to do a bit more reading and get up to date on this, Chief Inspector. So yes, they’re here for an hour or so and then I am free. Frankly after a session, particularly with two clients, I like a glass of wine to come down from my high. It’s tiring work, but very rewarding too. So stay, please, read a paper, book, have a glass, whatever. I’m sure you have nothing better on.”

She is so matter-of-fact it almost takes his breath away, she is going to play with, dominate, torture (well, whatever) two clients, in her “office” and he will be not fifty feet away. She smiles.

“Actually, as you know, I record all my sessions, give the client a memory stick, they like to relive it, so you could watch it on the big screen over there, which I’ve connected to my laptop and the cameras, you might learn something.” She laughs. “It’s split screen, so you get four screens in one, good for the close-ups.” He hesitates.

“Don’t be such a prude, Chief Inspector, just relax, please stay, and learn something, watch a mistress work her wonders.”

“I’m not a prude, I see crime scenes you wouldn’t believe.” He blurts out, very defensively almost angry.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, that was just a thoughtless thing to say. I need a slap for that. I’m sure you do, and it must be horrific, that was very tactless of me, forgive me. But this is different isn’t it, this is about sex, a different type of sexual activity, and it is perhaps shocking to some, contemptible even.” She raises her eyebrows.

“And you are still a bit uncomfortable, aren’t you, with my profession. I can see it. Oh dear, there is nothing new with this, although this is the new world, Chief Inspector. We are, after all, the oldest profession, or I am at least a more sophisticated version of it. In the old days we had Casanova and the Maquis de Sade and many other underground writers and practitioners, now we have the internet. It may be hidden but it’s there, and women are empowered, and I am too, very definitely. No laws are broken here, everyone is having a good, perhaps sometimes a painful time. But it’s all consensual, and fun, remember that, fun. More fun than many people have in sad, loveless, yet conventional relationships, hhmm? So stick around, for some wine,” she looks at the screen, “and entertainment. I would like you to. Please? If you leave I will be quite hurt.” He doesn’t reply, still musing on her speech, so she rises.

“The red wine is in the cabinet there; you choose which one.” She turns and leaves, her rubber skirt swishing. “And leave some for me.” She giggles.

Emily Entertains Two Clients

He knows that he will stay, he doesn’t really want to go, she looks so gorgeous as she turns to the front door, a swirl of black and white rubber. And she doesn’t wait for a reply, it appears she knows he will stay. As she opens the door, she thinks again he is really very cute (oh dear, she hates that word, he was in his 30’s, well early 30’s for goodness sake) and in a formal rather repressed, shy way. She likes that, oh and yes, he has a great body, she’d seen that all those months ago, encased in clinging rubber and he looked really good in that suit, and his cock, well…yeah.

After she goes to the stables to prepare for her clients, he can’t resist going over to the screen and viewing the four split screens. It is with mixed emotions though. He is fascinated to see her “work” and yet he feels a bit like a peeper. He waits a while and then he sees a woman, maybe in her late 30’s, but in very good shape, quite busty but with narrow waistline and firm, athletic body. She has a striking, mature face, quite imposing, and she of course is dressed bizarrely. Well why should he be surprised? She stands to attention, arms behind her back, facing Emily, her mistress.

She is dressed as a rubber parody of a schoolgirl.

He shouldn’t be surprised at this. She wears a white long-sleeved shirt buttoned to the collar, and a red tie is knotted perfectly, the shirt is tucked into a short, flared red skirt barely to mid-thigh showing off strong legs encased in white stockings and black patent flat shoes. Her blonde hair, starting to go grey, is short and very stylish.

Where’s the other client, he ponders, and at that moment another woman enters. So these are lovers. And what a sight she is. She is stockier, a bit shorter, well muscled and fit. She wears a full body catsuit of flesh coloured rubber. How could she have got into that? She looks like a perfect mannequin, a rubber doll complete with painted false nails. As she turns and faces Emily, he notes only openings at her arse and nipples, the remainder of her is buried beneath the body-clinging flesh coloured rubber. Over her pussy however is an exaggerated rubber replica of her own pussy lips. He can see the rubber lips are swollen, and there is a small slit for presumably access to her real pussy underneath. He shakes his head at the thought, not to mention the skill, that has gone into this bizarre design, covered and yet accessible.

But her face is the strangest, for it is a perfect mannequin face in drum tight flesh-coloured rubber, a mask without laces or zip. She is a beautiful woman, a perfect rubber doll, a model, a mannequin, exact in every way, bright scarlet lips just slightly parted, wide open blue eyes, shaded eyebrows. He realises he is holding his breath, she is stunning. A perfect “doll”.

Emily circles them now, they are in their roles, she’s inspecting them, with a cane she raises the rear of the “schoolgirl’s” skirt, exposing frilly white panties and suspenders holding up her stockings, the woman expels a breath. Benson can see she’s aroused already. Emily moves to the front, their eyes lock as she taps the insides of her thighs, and obediently the woman spreads her legs.

At first, he’s embarrassed - adult women dressed like this, playing this game, it just looks silly, but after a minute he sees that they are not acting, they have moved into their roles, the larger woman is breathing heavily, she’s excited, and now Emily undoes a stud on her shirt, moves her hand inside and exposes a black rubber covered breast. She takes the nipple, exposed through a hole in the bra, rolls it in her finger and thumb, then squeezes it. The woman closes her eyes and bites her lip. Emily’s other hand passes between her legs and strokes the front of her frilly panties.

The DCI now realises he is beginning to lose oxygen as he holds his breath.

“Please, please.” The woman moans, as Emily tucks a gloved finger under her panties and strokes her, then withdraws and examines her finger, it is moist and shiny.

“Oooh, bad girl,” she says and puts it to the woman’s lips. The woman licks it, then Emily returns it to under her panties, and starts to rub her clit vigorously, out of sight.

The woman is already shaking, but must remain standing still, her hands still clasped behind her back. Emily now pinches the exposed nipple again and the woman howls, aaaaaaahhh. She is almost coming but Emily stops, denying her, removing her finger, placing it at the woman’s lips, and she dutifully sucks it, her eyes now closed.

Emily turns to the mannequin, and points to the suspended inflatable body bag. Benson recognises this as the one that the madwoman had forced his sergeant, Ruby Adams, into, and then forced Emily into playing with her. The rubber doll obediently steps into it. Benson has seen this routine before in that nightmare of an evening. He watches as she slides her arms into the internal sleeves as Emily zips her up and begins to inflate the bag from an air hose close by. Quickly it is drum tight, with not a crease in sight, as she swings imperceptibly a few inches above the ground. Only her breasts, arse, rubber pussy, and her inscrutable, emotionless rubber doll face are visible.

Emily takes her exposed rubber nipples between finger and thumb and pulls them out, accompanied by a muffled scream from the mannequin, adjusts them until her breasts, covered in flesh-toned rubber, are gripped at their base by the openings in the bag. Although her rubber face is expressionless, he can hear the mannequin squeal and moan and sees her roll her head - it’s all she can move - from side to side. Emily now plays with her rubber pussy, just stroking her and pinching it, then moves her finger through the rubber outer lips and into the woman underneath, eliciting now a series of soft grunts. He is amazed to see that this woman, grunting and groaning, is near orgasm already.

All this time, the “schoolgirl” has been standing to attention, but clearly getting hot, seeing her lover (presumably) being played with by such a skilled practitioner. Emily turns and points to a vaulting horse, and the woman obediently drapes her upper body on it. Emily leaves the mannequin, groaning quietly and begins to quickly strap the schoolgirl down. Once she is fully secured satisfactorily, Emily takes a thick rubber paddle, raises the woman’s short rubber skirt, showing her white rubber panties and stocking tops, and begins to slowly beat her buttocks. She yelps, and Emily stops to come around and face her. She raises her own skirt and moves her hands underneath, exposing her own rubber stockinged legs, then she slips out of her black rubber panties. She shows them to the woman, then folds them inside out - the DCI can see they are gleaming - and raises her eyebrows. Obediently the woman opens her mouth and Emily calmly eases them between her open lips, slowly cramming her mouth full with the gleaming rubber wad. The woman takes it without a murmur, maybe happy to bite down on the gagging rubber. Emily pats her head, moves behind her and resumes her beating, taking a break to stroke the woman’s rubber thighs and whisper in her ear. This is not mild paddling, a play act, she takes full swings. It is cruel and yet affectionate. But it is a serious beating, not just a few taps, these must really hurt, despite the rubber covering her buttocks, and soon Benson sees the woman is weeping silently.

When she finishes, Emily continues to tenderly caress her, the woman has tears rolling down her face, which is red and perspiring, as is the small strip of flesh between her stocking tops and panties. Emily lets her rest, pulling down the woman’s short skirt, goes to the rubber mannequin and strokes her rubber pussy and even kisses her rubber masked face affectionately, poking her tongue through the small gap in the red rubber lips. After a couple of minutes, she returns to the schoolgirl, releases her, removes her gleaming panties from her mouth and calmly pulls them up her legs and back over her pussy.

Emily pulls the schoolgirl’s arms behind her back and slides them into a stiff rubber monoglove, laces it tight, bringing her elbows together and pushing the woman’s breasts out. The woman bites her lip and grimaces but says nothing. Emily smiles and gives her exposed nipple another twist, then drags her across the room and forces her to kneel in front of her rubber bagged lover. Benson knows what’s next, he’s seen this before when Ruby had been sucked and licked by Emily.

And it is Emily that presses the woman’s face down into the oval of rubber to settle on her lover’s crotch. The woman has to push her head in as far as possible to break through the rubber lips and find her lover’s but manages to achieve this. Soon, there is a bit of moaning, and Benson thinks this is more in pleasure than discomfort as the schoolgirl’s head presses in and out, deeper and deeper, through the oval in the inflated rubber. It is no more than a few minutes before the single leg of the bag begins to swing and shake, and the doll’s head rocks from side to side, accompanied by loud groans. Soon there is a muffled scream from the tightly masked head, which then lolls to the side. The schoolgirl sits back on her haunches and Benson can see her face is red and gleaming with her lover’s juices, which have seeped through the rubber lips of the suit. And the woman looks very contented now, despite the pain she must be feeling from her buttocks.

Three Is Not A Crowd

Emily hasn’t finished. The session is barely half over.

She now attaches a chain to the ring at the end of the monoglove and hoists the woman’s hands high through a pulley in the ceiling. She’s forced forward, her head dipping to the horizontal, Emily fixes the chain and moves behind her, and without ceremony she lowers the woman’s panties, exposing her buttocks which are bright red after her beating. Her stockings remain on and are held by the flimsy suspenders; for balance she has to spread her legs. Benson can see the woman is shaven and from another angle, Emily has clearly planned this with the cameras, he can see she is almost dripping during all this. Emily moves her hands over the body, stroking and caressing gently, talking very quietly to her, placing a finger over her labia and stroking it.

Emily wraps a harness of rubber straps around the woman’s head, attached to which is a ring gag. She takes her time adjusting the straps, under her chin, over her head, either side of her nose, all of which force her mouth open. Then she attaches an additional short rubber strap from the top of her head harness to the ring at her raised fingertips, pulling her head back.

She strokes her head, saliva is now dripping from the woman’s mouth, she moves to her breasts, loosens the tie, pulls open her white rubber shirt, exposing the black bra and bare nipples. She plays with the breasts for a while, squeezing them, and pinches the nipples. There are a series of moans from the woman. After they become erect, she quickly clips two crocodile clips with small bells to her nipples. The woman squeals but can do nothing else. But Emily hasn’t stopped, for she moves behind her and slowly, carefully attaches two similar clips to her exposed labia, there are now four bells hanging down below the woman and he can see that she is actually dripping with excitement. Emily sees this too.

“You really are a whore, aren’t you? Well time to ring your bell, my dear, in more ways than one.” Emily chuckles. During all this Emily had never looked at a camera, never made eye contact with Benson. She was in her zone, completely in control, not acting, just being.

The woman watches, aaahhhing, as Emily slowly deflates the rubber bag around the rubber mannequin, then unzips and helps her out of the bag. She must be sweating buckets in that suit, Benson reflects, as Emily pulls her hands behind her back and cuffs them. Now she goes to one of her many drawers and takes out two sets of straps and harnesses, and then he sees the dildos! She orders the rubber doll to step into one set, pulling up the straps. The dildo is attached to a curved baseplate, contoured to cover her pussy and from a well-located camera angle he can see the inside of the baseplate is covered in hard rubber spikes. The doll parts her legs obediently as Emily places the baseplate over her pussy and starts to tighten the straps around her waist and thighs, pulling two between her legs and drawing them hard over her rubber covered cheeks, stretching out the rear opening opposite her anal passage. The dildo is now sticking out obscenely in front of the rubber doll. Emily then unbuttons her white shirt, pulling it out from under the brutal corset.

And then steps out of her skirt.  

The DCI is holding his breath now. He feels guilty as he spies on her like this, and he also realises he has had an erection for the last few minutes. But the sight of Emily like this almost makes him come. He is excited and yet a little embarrassed too. She is now dressed in just black rubber stockings and garter belt, panties, pumps, tight black boned corset, shoulder length gloves, and black bra. He can’t take his eyes off her stunning appearance. Very quickly, almost imperceptibly, she looks up to a camera for the very first time and cheekily winks. And he does feel like a peeping tom, caught out, for she knows he’s watching, and so why shouldn’t he continue to do so? 

Now she repeats the process she began with the rubber doll and begins to place a belt around her narrow-corseted waist, attached to this is an ample strap-on rubber cock on a contoured base plate, she draws the straps through her legs, enjoying seeing the woman watching her, dribble and moan, knowing what is coming. Satisfied all the straps are nice and tight, cutting into her own pussy behind her thin rubber panties, she rolls a condom over it and approaches the doll. She takes her by the waist, moving her forward to the “schoolgirl’s” inflamed pussy. She laughs.

“Look at her, she’s so wet waiting for you. Come on, give your lover a good fucking.” She doesn’t need to push the doll further, for she takes a step on her own and with one thrust she’s in her lover, who lets out a whoop. Then the rubber doll sets up a rhythm of her own, watched approvingly by Emily. Emily moves in front on the bent-over woman, who is aaaahhing in pleasure as her lover fucks her from the rear. She holds her cock in front of the woman’s face.

“Now you are very wet and having a good time, but your lover’s anal passage may not be so accommodating. So I suggest you get this nice and wet to make it as easy as possible for her to take this baby. I know you are not keen on sucking cock, but do your best, at least for your lover’s sake.” She places it at her mouth and eases it in.

“Aaaarggh aaargh mmmmhm.”

“Good girl, come on, suck, that’s better. Get it nice and wet now.” And the schoolgirl does suck and lick, while at the same time her lover, the impassive rubber mannequin, fucks her energetically.

After a couple of minutes, as the doll pumps into the woman, who grunts and swings her arms in the monoglove, all four bells are ringing, Emily withdraws from her mouth and moves behind the rubber doll, gripping her hips.

“Now let’s see if we can really get them to ring.” She slides the large cock between the woman’s stretched rubber cheeks, avoiding the straps of the strap-on cutting into her cheeks, and plays with her for a few seconds. The doll can do nothing, being stuck between her lover and her mistress. Emily pushes the doll’s torso forward and under the woman’s pulled-up arms. Now she can see her prize and taking a firm grip of her hips, in one smooth motion she enters her anal passage, accompanied by a loud grunt from the rubber mannequin.

They begin to rock back and forth as Emily thrusts in and out, the bells ringing out as the “schoolgirl” writhes and shakes under the assault. For the rubber doll, despite the emotionless face, it looks painful and cruel, as she is crammed between the other two, assaulting and being assaulted at the same time, fucking and being anally assaulted at the same time. Benson thinks she must be dizzy from the assault. Emily now wraps her hands around the doll and begins to massage her breasts and pinch her exposed nipples.

Benson, to his shock and embarrassment, remains rock hard as he watches this bizarre tableau, unable to take his eyes from the screens. It goes on for a few more minutes and then he sees the “schoolgirl” come, grunting and shaking, saliva pouring from her gaping mouth.

“Oh you dirty girl, we have ten more minutes yet, you must get full value for money now, let’s see if we can shake the house, ha ha.”

He continues to watch, perhaps a little ashamed but utterly transfixed. This isn’t porn, well it is of course, but this isn’t acting for a camera either. They are a partnership in this strange tableau. This is pure power exchange, two women have given themselves, completely, to this other woman, unashamedly, taking pleasure, accepting pain, without embarrassment or shame. The DCI is amazed by it. He considers himself well versed in the world but he finds this scene amazing. Now he realises he certainly isn’t quite as worldly as he thought.

They finally separate, Emily first, and then the doll, who had been the meat in the sandwich. Emily takes the doll by her cuffed wrists and comes around to face the bent-over woman, who is groaning and breathing deeply. She places her hand on the woman’s head and guides the gleaming cock of the rubber doll into her mouth, and the woman must now lick off her own juices. But Emily hasn’t finished. She returns to the woman’s exposed rear, and the DCI knows what is to come next.

And come it does. Emily pulls off the condom from her dildo and replaces it with a fresh one, runs some lube up and down the shaft and then without preamble determinedly eases the rubber cock into the woman’s defenceless arse. She groans and grunts but once the opening is breached Emily purposefully presses on and in a few seconds the base plate is resting against the woman’s buttocks. Benson finds it hard to believe that this woman wants this, enjoys this. They must have done it before, for it seems almost effortless from Emily, as if superbly choreographed, and the woman did not fight it, not that she had much of an opportunity. Is this from a well rehearsed script? It must be, at least to a degree with some improvisation involved as well. Emily is always calm, in control, never rushed, hugely impressive.

Emily strokes and caresses the schoolgirl as she pistons in and out of her anal passage, it is violent and yet tender, and he finds he can’t take his eyes of it. At the other end the woman is licking off her own juices from her lover’s dildo. To his shock, he watches as the schoolgirl comes again, and this is with very little stimulation from Emily, just a finger stroking her clit. Finally, Emily withdraws, accompanied by a loud groan from the exhausted woman.

Emily removes her strap-on, then the bells and clips from the schoolgirl’s nipples and labia. She releases her arms from the chain, kisses her nipples tenderly and presses the studs of the shirt together and then unlaces the monoglove. The woman is exhausted as Emily helps her back into her frilly panties, playfully striking her red buttocks. She now releases the cuffs from the rubber mannequin’s wrists and removes the strap-on, and Benson sees the inside of the baseplate is glossy with the mannequin’s juices.

Emily removes the head harness and ring gag, and they stand for a while as they get their breath back and minds together. Emily then opens her arms and all three embrace, the older woman with tears in her eyes as she drops her head to Emily’s rubber-covered breasts. She strokes her hair, comforting her, whispering to her as she lets it all out and Emily kisses the mannequin’s rubber face, squeezing her tongue between the red rubber lips.

Benson sits back, despite having a few sips of wine, his mouth is dry. He has to pinch himself to believe that what he has just witnessed really happened.

Emily Returns

Benson sits down on the couch, more than a little shocked. He can hardly believe what he has seen. This was strange of course, but he had also found it quite moving, touching, not seedy. He’s still not sure he should have been watching, so personal it had seemed. He continues to go through the scenes in his head and it is over twenty minutes later when he hears some conversation at the front door, some laughter, and then a car leaves.

Emily finally enters the living room, dabbing her face, she’s put the white shirt and black skirt back on and has tucked the shirt under her corset, which must have taken some effort in itself. She says nothing as she takes the bottle of red, uncorks it, a very good red, and pours a glass, sits opposite, crosses her shapely rubber clad legs, and looks at him. There is a hint of a smile, and she cocks her head, raises her eyebrows.

“You look like you need a proper drink, Chief Inspector, probably more than me. Bit of a shock for you, no doubt, first time seeing all that, I understand. But I have to say that was a good one, we all did well today, the ladies had a great time and were very pleased. We worked as a good team, some days, very rare though, it just doesn’t work quite so well. One of us is not quite into the moment, you wouldn’t understand but you have to be absolutely into the whole scene, go with it, otherwise…well.” She leans over, facing him, he can smell the rubber and her…sex. There is a sheen of perspiration on her forehead, but otherwise, despite all the energy expended, she’s perfect, perfect.

“Well, Mr. Detective, you’ve had some time to digest it all. I hope you weren’t too shocked, disgusted, horrified? I hope I haven’t frightened you away.” She challenges him. He waits a few seconds.

“Well yes, of course I was shocked, yes, I had never quite expected that. Jesus, give me a break.” He waits as he forms his reply. “But actually,” he looks to the floor, still trying to select his words, “I was quite, erm, er, moved. I had never expected the scenarios to be so emotional. I suppose I had expected the hard dom beating on the poor er, sub er schoolgirl? I expected spanking and twisting of nipples I suppose. But there was a, erm, a really solid relationship there.” He takes a sip of wine, it is very good indeed. “And not based on you, well, providing a service for a fee, but some kind of synergy, that you seemed to feed off one another. I really hadn’t quite expected that.” He takes another sip. “I know you are good at your work, very good, but there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

She smiles at him, he actually gets it, she thinks for a moment. Yes, he gets it. She thinks he deserves perhaps some explanation.

An Intimate Conversation

“Carol, er the schoolgirl, I have known for five years now. She’s a very good and respected lawyer, makes lots of money in the city. She helped me with an issue with my first house. She was very efficient indeed, and saved me a lot, a lot of money. But she’s under a lot of pressure at work, one of the top lawyers in the firm, but well,” she smiles, “she’s a woman, isn’t she? And that means different standards, even in the 21st century. Come on, we all know that, things have changed a little, but there’s still the glass ceiling, yes? Ask your Ruby, er your Sergeant Adams. You should really call her, you might learn something about that.”

Benson ponders at this comment, yes, he should call her, he did miss her hard-edged company, and she was a very good partner. But Emily continues.

“When Carol had settled my legal problem, she came around one evening for dinner, I invited her to wander around my house, while I was making the dinner, and quite accidentally she found my basement er workroom, she was just wandering innocently, while I was upstairs. I should have locked it, but didn’t, anyway, I came down expecting to find shock and horror on her face but no, she was examining each piece of equipment and the rubber clothing very carefully, with serious interest, almost fascination. She was obviously shocked at finding out my profession, but not embarrassed or dismissive, disgusted, no, I could see it had piqued her interest. Anyway after about a bottle and a half of wine she confessed she was quite attracted in my er, profession. I don’t know, I wasn’t that surprised actually. After so many years, you can get to tell if someone, to a certain degree, might be interested in this stuff, 6th sense? I don’t know, anyway, I wasn’t too shocked to hear this, maybe it was the wine. And after another half bottle she confessed that she wanted to try a session with me, she wanted to be completely taken in hand, loved and dominated. I knew very early on she was gay, that was easy, I have very refined gaydar. But picking subbies is much harder.” She takes a while to think.

“She went to a catholic school, all girls, and girl’s bullying is worse than the boys, we all know that, so we worked on this schoolgirl scenario which we have refined over the years. Sometimes she isn’t a client but a friend, she loves coming here and just being dirty, letting it all out. She tells me the best times she ever has are with me, and I am very flattered by that, but as you say, we have a partnership really. And it’s not the only one I have with my clients. It’s all trust and total respect, that’s all, staying in the moment and showing respect for your partner. They are in charge, remember that, and they trust me to respect them. I know it sounds odd, but that is the only way it works.” She smiles, she has finished her glass and tops hers up, and she raises her eyebrows.

“No, just one for me please, driving you know.” For a second, she hopes that he will stay, but then she thinks, some things need time.

“And what about the other woman? I presume they are a couple, lovers?” And Emily smiles knowingly.

“Well, I’m happy and rather proud to say I introduced them. I have known…erm, er...Ronnie for a while. We met, by accident I suppose, and I got them together and they’ve been an item for a few months now. Both came to me separately at first, but I thought it would be a no-brainer if they came together, then we could play off each other. She just seemed a really good fit, not just the sessions we have but in the world out there. For me it’s not work, just amazingly satisfying seeing them interplay with each other. They are both very assertive women in their own professional worlds, so they love coming here and being dommed by me, but also getting off on each other. Outside of here they’re just a normal couple. Although they live separately, they are together when they can be, both of them are still nervous of outing themselves, being in male dominated professions, but gradually they are getting more comfortable, and they love to come here and let off steam.”

“Yes, I can certainly see that. And you, I could see you were aroused as well. Erm, err, so are you erm… gay, or are…oh god, what am I saying.” She laughs at his discomfort. “Oh Benson, you poor thing, I’m with two very sexy beautiful women, why shouldn’t I cuddle and kiss, and more. I am a sexual animal, I take pleasure when I wish. I suppose I’m straight, I’ve had more men lovers - and there have not been many as my work takes up most of my time - than women, but I do like the occasional foray on the other side. That shocks you as well, I see.” She laughs.

“No, no, well perhaps a little. You looked so in control, calm, affectionate yet cruel. I am hugely impressed, still a bit in shock, but…I would lie if I, erm didn’t admit that once I understood the power exchange, the script if you will, then I erm…”

“Got off on it?” She smiles knowingly. “Nothing wrong in admitting that, three women…”

“Beautiful women.” He interjects and she bows with a smile.

“Having fun, unadulterated dirty fun, a bit of pain, quite a bit, and a lot of pleasure. A lot more people should be doing it and to hell with what others might think. Too many people with too many hang-ups out there. Consensual and safe, that’s all it is. Anyway, that’s my speech for the day.” He hasn’t taken his eyes off her in all this time, something she has noted, with satisfaction, then he points at her rubber costume. “Are you not hot in that?”

“Yes, yes of course, but I like wearing rubber, I like being hot and a bit sweaty, clammy. And I’ll let you into a little secret.” She’s not sure of this, is not too early to be telling him this, but what the hell…

“I don’t just wear it for my clients. I like wearing it at any time of the day.” She raises her eyebrows again, searching for a reaction. “I’ve shocked you again.”

“No, no. Oh, really? Well it does wonders for…er I think you look very attractive in it.” Again, Benson is a bit off guard. “That catsuit you wore when that madwoman was about to murder us was, well, fantastic, and what you’re wearing now is…”

“Hhhmm, well I didn’t really choose it that night, Mrs. Kemp had me put it on, god, what a nutter.” She laughs quietly and looks across at him.

“You didn’t look too bad yourself in the black full bodysuit, Chief Inspector, you filled it out in all the right places.” She’s teasing again, and now she notices he actually blushes a little, she thinks he’s getting more used to this, slowly. It is a strange conversation really. She leans over again, their eyes locking.

“So, what did you think when I was putting it on you, that suit?”

“What? Er, well I was thinking I might die that night.” She gives him a look of mild contempt. “Oh, the rubber you mean? Well, it was okay, all right, cold and clammy at first and then warmed up, but you know that.”

She grins again and nods.

“Only Chief Inspector, when you were spread-eagled in that frame and I had put that mask on you, and then I had to screw in the cock gag, was it me, or did you start going just a little hard before she forced me to suck you off?” It really isn’t fair the way she teases him.

“NO, for god’s sake, look, do we have to have this…no, no absolutely not, that’s your imagina…”

“Ha ha, oh detective, you really are easy to rise to the bait. Look I’m just playing here, you have to loosen up a bit.” She leans forward and again he sees how beautiful she is. “Anyway, what of it, if you did.” She grins. “I noticed that it didn’t take me long to get you rock hard, which considering the circumstances I can’t take all the credit for as I am not exactly an expert in that particular field, the rubber must have had some effect on you.”

“No, no and no. Do we have to talk about this?” She is enjoying his discomfort.

“Why not, you have a nice muscled body, I took a good grip of your thighs, and buttocks, a very nice bum, by the way, you must work out a lot. I noticed you didn’t exactly fight me off. Why be embarrassed? It happened and we are both still here, thank goodness, to talk about it.”

“I hardly could fight you anyway, the way I was stretched out.”

“True, and you sucking on a rubber cock, and me as well, but the real thing. Quite a sight, anyway, if I was going to die, it would have been a nice way to go, sucking a nice man like you dry, it would have been nicer if she’d forced us to fuck, I’d have liked that too, but...”

“Look, do you have to, I know you are just teasing me, you love to have the upper hand don’t you? But while you may have been enjoying it all, I was worried I had got you both killed.”

“True, it was a bit hairy, but it doesn’t take away from the fact…”

She leaves it there. And he can find the only thing to say is.

“But, we survived, didn’t we?” He not so cleverly changes the subject, but not the way she would have chosen.

“Yes,” and she becomes pensive, “but you weren’t the one forced to move out, so your survival as you call it, was just a tad easier.” She says a little testily, not liking the way he keeps changing the conversation, and beginning to get just a little mad at his shy innocence, faked or otherwise.

“No, no, you’re right and I’m sorry. I’ve said I’m sorry.”

“Well, I am getting to like it here, actually prefer it now. Don’t know many people here yet, but the folks in the pub seem friendly, and not too nosy,” she leans over again, “so it’s nice when I get visitors, like you, for instance.” She has got over her little spat and raises her glass. He changes the subject, again.

“I remember you said in our interview you never had sex with a client,” he studies her, “but what you had with, Carol is it, looked pretty like sex to me.” She is surprised he has brought the talk back to the scene she has played but is quite happy to explain.

“Hhmm, I suppose so, depends if you use the White House definition.”

“What about, er…men.”

“Oh, poor detective, you’re not getting jealous, I hope. No, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m getting bitchy, sorry. No, really no, I don’t have sex, in the conventional sense with my male clients. If you really want to know, I will fuck them with a strap-on in the arse or mouth, excuse my French, and I might wank them off, by hand or vacuum machine, so no traditional coitus, but lots of other interesting stuff, okay?”

“You really do call a spade a spade, don’t you? Sorry, it really is none of my business, none at all. But I have truly never met anyone like you, erm, no pretense at all.” He looks down at his empty glass.

“I don’t know why we are on each other like this? I don’t know, and I apologise.” In response she lowers her head, as if in thought.

“Maybe it’s because you saved my life…”

“And you mine. And for god’s sake, let’s not go over that again.” She says.

“Okay, whatever, and as a result, we have respect, we care for each other.” He is careful choosing his words. And there is silence for a few seconds as they both stare at their glasses.

“Look I have to go, I really enjoyed seeing you, you know, you’re doing fine, better than fine and that’s good. I love your house, what I have seen of it, you have a great set-up here. And letting me see you work, that was, er very illuminating. I have a new-found respect for you, no, not new-found, just a renewed respect for your professionalism, well, you, I mean.” And he laughs at his own stumbling understatement. As he walks to the front door he turns and finds her closer to him than he expected, and again he smells the rubber encasing her, and her own musk too.

“Oh, look, would you like to erm, go out for dinner, or a drink or something?” With her heels so high she is actually an inch or two taller than him, and she can feel his slight discomfort, but she cocks her head and bites her upper lip.

“Oh, Chief Inspector, are you asking me out on a date? Hmm, well well.” She takes a step back, and crosses her arms, pushing out her breasts. Is she playing again?

“I don’t know, is this a good thing for you? The cop and the call girl, haha, the detective and the dominatrix, it sounds like a bad musical. And I think you have a lot more to lose than I. I really don’t want you to get into trouble, Chief Inspector, you seeing me wouldn’t go down well with the top brass, I think. Say goodbye to your promotion prospects.” She is not playing fair here, but perhaps, Benson thinks, she is right, it is a risky business for him and his career. If the tabloids got hold of this, well…he really is in a bit of a dilemma.

“Well maybe,” he opens the door and is slowly making his way to his car, “yes, you are right, probably a bit risky, yeah. But it has been good seeing you, and I would like to pop by again.” He turns around and shakes her rubber gloved hand. What a strange thing to do, he thinks, shaking the rubber glove, and goodness knows where that has been. And that thought brings a smile to his face.

“It was very good to see you, Miss Gunn, sorry, I still think of you as Miss Gunn, and I wish you all the best. We could have lunch together in town perhaps, yes? I would like that.” He says formally, he can’t believe he actually said that, have lunch? Oh, you idiot.

They part and he gets into his car, feeling rather stupid. Why did he come here? To see her, of course, he wanted to see her again. He had left it far too long, yes, he’d been busy, but that wasn’t an excuse. The truth was he was intimidated by her, a little. He’d never met someone remotely like her before, and she always seemed to keep him off balance. She is beautiful, stunning, but my goodness, what a handful she’d be. He leaves the car idling as he begins to check all the messages on his phone. After a couple of minutes, his mind is in a complete muddle, as he engages gear he sees a flash of black and white at his window, a black skirt and corset and a white shirt. He rolls the window down.

“For a bright man, Chief Inspector, sometimes you really are a silly fool. A very silly man. I don’t give a shit what your superiors think, and neither should you, we’re talking about your private life and mine, and I’ve probably more to lose.” She not mad, she’s cool, as always. “Now listen, there’s a pub in the next village over there, you’ll pass it on the way back. I’ll be there Friday night, it’s sort of my local. Join me. No pressure, okay? Say 7pm? Do come, Chief Inspector, otherwise I’ll have to fight off the local yokels. Just kidding, they’re a nice bunch in there, you’ll see…that is, if you should come. Just a drink, a bit of food and a natter, all right?” She leans in and places her gloved hand under his chin and gently pecks his cheek, again he can smell the rubber on her perfect skin, and her intoxicating musk.

“And it’s Emily, all right? Emily. Not Miss Gunn.” She turns back to the house, her skirt swaying over her hips, there is a spring in her step, he observes. He engages first and pulls out of the drive. As he drives through the country lanes, he finds it hard to concentrate.

story continued in part 6

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