The Detectives And The Dominatrix

Part 6: An Unmasking

Emily sees his car disappear, and returns to the living room, and laughs. Ruby is sipping her wine.

“Well that could have been a bit embarrassing. Sorry it took so long, we had a great chat, you know, and Ruby, he misses you, he still feels very guilty. Yes, he was responsible for your near demise, and his too, but you two have to kiss and make up. I’ll leave it at that.”

“Good idea having you fully masked, and best to stay here until he was gone. We can phone Carol now and get her to come back and pick you up. She’ll be in the pub having all the males ogle her.” She takes another sip. “I think it went really well today, don’t you? I love you in the dolly suit, and I can see Carol did too.” She takes a big gulp of wine now, she really needs that, she wasn’t sure how that conversation went, it was wonderful to see him again, but she is worried she might have frightened him off.

“Are you okay, not sore in the anal department?” She just smiles. “Good, yes, we put on quite a show, didn’t we? Well, come on, how much did you really hear?”

“Most of it, quite interesting chat you had. Yes I know we have to bury the hatchet, but shouldn’t it be him calling me? Yeah, I know, petty, well we’ll see. And the session was great, really great, the doll suit is perfect, it just grips every inch, every pore, getting my head through the neck was a bit of a chore but once in, and eyes fully aligned, I got wet just wearing it. And then, well, when you stuffed me in the bag and pumped it up, I almost came. Do you have any idea what it is like to be completely helpless, absolutely vulnerable, with everything available and on display? I don’t know what makes me want this so much.”

“No, I don’t personally know, but many clients tell me about it, maybe one day, perhaps, and maybe one day I’ll try a doll suit on and then dress in my dom outfit. How would you like to be dommed by a rubber doll?”

“You know I’d love it.” She grins.

They ruminate for a while, sipping wine, then Emily asks.

“Would there ever be a time when you could feel comfortable enough to….”

“To tell him? Benson? I don’t know, he’s not ready for that yet, but maybe someday. I have to make peace with him first. Anyway, stop changing the subject, what about you? I can see you have a real thing for my famous Chief Inspector. Emily, you really have to get a move on with him. I can tell just by the way he talks, he likes you. Problem is, you might be too much for the poor guy to handle.”

Emily hopes she isn’t right, as Detective Sergeant Ruby Adams chuckles.

An Odd Couple?

They meet in the pub Friday night, he is late and she’s getting mad fighting off the local lads, and then he rushes in, panting.

“Sorry sorry, shit, something came up, and you know how it is. God, my job sometimes.’’

“I’ll have a gin and tonic, please, get yourself something and calm down.” She realises she is excited to see him even though he’s late, and when he returns they begin to talk. He can’t take his eyes off her, and yet it’s a bit odd not seeing her in rubber, and he realises he’s a little disappointed. The rubber did so much for her wonderful figure. But in tight leather pants (oh god!) and t-shirt and jacket she still looks divine. After a few minutes they agree to make it a rule that they won’t talk about their work, either of them. They both know that this probably won’t happen as they both love their work, but they will at least give it a go. They start nervously, like 18-year-olds, and this amuses her, more than Benson perhaps, who seems a bit tongue tied. She finds it hard to reconcile this handsome young, well fairly young, reticent man hardly able to take his eyes off her, with the confident, very clever Chief Inspector.

They do relax eventually, and no surprise at all, she finds him funny, witty, self deprecating, and even, strangely perhaps, rather innocent, at least it seems so to her. How can a man of such authority, who has seen terrible crime scenes, had to deal with the press and grieving relatives, be so shy in the company of women… or is it just her? She is rather flattered if that is the case, and decides they will take their time, go his pace, keep him in his comfort zone. She likes him, she likes him a lot, this is not to be rushed.

They end the date with a kiss. Not lip crushing, tongue exploring, but a tender brush and then a bit more. He is a good kisser, and you know he means it. He doesn’t grab her breasts (although she wouldn’t have minded) or push his hand between her legs, if he had he’d maybe have noticed that she has her rubber ventilation pants on under the leather and might have been a bit surprised to find that she was just a little moist, but she is content just to kiss, hug and then fix another date.

A few days later, it is a rather expensive dinner at a restaurant a few miles away in another village. She tries to pay, or at least go Dutch, and he’s quite offended by this, gentlemen that he is. They go back to her house and she takes a deep breath and invites him in for coffee. He agrees but seems nervous again but they do have a fumble or two in the living room, but barely after he has arrived his phone goes and he has to leave. She gets the feeling that he thinks he’s been saved by the bell.

“I’m sorry, but this is my life, I’m afraid.” And of course she knows this. His work means that she won’t be seeing him as much as she would like, but she has to accept that. They are both, to a degree, married to their jobs. Over the next two weeks she is seeing as much as his job will allow, and she looks forward to it, her heart gives a little flutter when she sees him, which rarely happens, god, I’m like a schoolgirl, she thinks! They see each other another three times, for lunches and a quick coffee when she is in town shopping - for rubber, but she doesn’t tell him that.

Finally, on another Friday, their fifth “date” they go to bed, her bed. And there is no rubber or bondage involved, just plain vanilla, and she is quite happy to keep it like that. He’s her boyfriend (funny word, that) after all, not a client.

And it isn’t a success, no, not at all.

It starts out all right, they undress each other slowly in dim light. He’s got a very trim body, not overly muscled but fit – suddenly she thinks of him in that rubber catsuit all those months ago and can’t help thinking that he would look much better in it than out, but that’s just her – anyway he looks great. He’s very tender, treating her like porcelain. He takes her panties off and is shocked (but why should he be?) by her being hairless down there, bald as a baby. She is very pleased to see that he is erect, and very hard, this bodes well. When she is getting warmed up, and beginning to take his splendid, hard, muscly cock in her mouth, getting a taste of him, moving down his shaft, he comes. Well, I’m not that good she thinks, but it’s all right, she swallows his seed like a good girl, licking him as he softens - but he’s embarrassed, horrified, it has never happened before etc, he can’t understand it. She takes it all in her stride, she is used to PE’s - premature ejaculators - in her work. She calms him down but she can see for the rest of the evening (he has to leave - again - after a call comes for him) as they lie there in almost complete silence, he is upset.

And the next time, a couple of days later, it happens again, but a little later in the foreplay. He is immediately hard when she undresses him, she feels flattered at this, she obviously turns him on – but perhaps a little too much? He’s very attentive, licking, suckling her breasts, gently rubbing her clit, it all seems to be going well, but as she moves above him, slides a condom on, for she’s not on the pill, straddles him, he is barely in her before he comes. Again there are the apologies, then the guilty silence. She tries to buck him up, but he is quite mad with himself.

A few days later this happens again, and of course now it’s the elephant in the room. She is not concerned at all, only that he is getting depressed about it. This is a long-term proposition, she accepts that, she’s an expert at slowing down some clients, and encouraging others. And this man is definitely not a client, he’s much more than that. They end up just snuggling, which she loves doing anyway, just holding his lean muscled frame, but his body language says it all. 

Soon she thinks she understands why. She believes Benson is so besotted with her, she is sure he is, it isn’t her vanity, every time they get close he can barely take his eyes off her. She will catch him just looking at her, just looking, and she will say “what?” and he will smile and say “nothing” knowing he’s been caught out. She is touched by all this, this quiet, smart, articulate, yet shy man, going a bit silly over her.

But they don’t discuss this “problem” which in her mind isn’t one at all, as she will figure it out soon enough. She wants to talk about it but he will just not respond. It will be fine he says. Next time, she tries something else. She says she is tired and could they just lie together and cuddle for a while. And of course, without any pressure to perform, his big arms around her, she eventually turns to him, kisses him all the way down to his midriff, and beyond, and then expertly she slides a condom on, whispering.

“Nice and easy, no worries, just leave it to me, don’t do anything, all right. Nothing, hands by your side.” And she raises herself and with a quiet wooooo, she plants herself on him. She doesn’t ride him hard, in fact she doesn’t rise and fall at all, no, she just straddles him. Oh, and he is big, not hurting or stretching her, but certainly filling her, and she really likes that. He tries to touch her breasts but she slaps them away, nothing, do nothing, she says. She squeezes her pelvis and rocks back and forward, but nothing more. He does come quite quickly again, but after a few minutes this time, and so we’re on the right track but before she has taken pleasure herself. Afterwards they cuddle and then she feels him fall asleep. Hhmm, that was a lot better, yes, she will look after him, control him, just as she controls her clients.

And so, just three weeks, but hard-won weeks, after he came to the house, she can say with confidence, she has a boyfriend. He is a lot of fun. She’s not quite figured him out yet, he is still a bit of an enigma, but she is getting there. He certainly is a challenge. A top detective, living in the hard world of homicide, and yet…

He is sensitive and self-effacing. Dry, funny, ironic, but he still treats her as porcelain, well for the most part. And she would like him to be more, well, assertive. She really has no complaints. He leaves her to her job, he doesn’t judge or comment, he says nothing about her work in the stables, he can see she is happy and content, so why change that?

She had decided early on that she wanted to keep pleasure, her private life with him, separate from her business (which is pleasure as well, of course). In fact, she didn’t really want him in the stables at first, but she is surprised when - and it was he that had instigated this - she finds him wandering around, and even inspecting her stuff. At first this puts her off a little, this is after all her domain, she doesn’t go to his office and wander around, but she thinks it best to leave him to his curiosity. She watches him check out all the equipment, joking that she wouldn’t get him into this or that. But is there something behind all that bravado?

Then she remembers that it didn’t take a few seconds before he was hard as a rock when she sucked him off under the evil eye of that crazy murderer, and he had managed to stay hard for a reasonable time, which considering the situation certainly impressed her. She knows it wasn’t just her oral skills, but could it have been also the fact he was spread-eagled, butt plugged and dressed in rubber? Or the fact that she was dressed in rubber as well?

And then, despite her initial thoughts on the matter, she surprises herself when after a gradual escalation and getting accustomed to each other over the now four weeks, she tries a little very light playful bondage. This is completely spontaneous, not planned at all. So one evening she is tying her wrists to the head of the bed, with some silk scarves she finds, then she is further surprised that he is not put off at all with this introduction. In fact, he takes the initiative, and they make love twice within a short time. This intrigues her, there is clearly more to this man than she thought. Is he doing this to please her, or to please himself as well? This is not a question she can ask him. Now she is in a quandary, she really doesn’t want to make a mess of things, get too far ahead and yet, and yet something compels her to take another step a week later. After all, she remembers him in the rubber catsuit, and he managed to stay hard, under very nasty circumstances.

So, more than a little nervous and concerned she may really put him off, she introduces a little rubber, with his full consent of course. She says it’s all in fun, no big deal and makes it all light-hearted, a bit of fun, which of course is what it should be. She says she loves it and would it be all right? She almost expects him to resist, for this is, to a degree, against what they had both agreed to at the outset. Although he gives her a strange look, he quietly consents to her idea, appearing not to make a big deal of it.

So, first time out, she slips into her peep hole rubber sports bra, which she often wears in bed anyway as she likes how it supports her. To this she adds her waist-high rubber panties with the openings at pussy and rear. They are not like the girdle panties she gave Ruby, no, these provide easy access to her jewels, and when she slips in beside him, she can see he likes that ensemble.

So, a bit of rubber, a little bit of bondage. It was all very harmless and innocent, and she could see that he was getting more comfortable, less anxious with their lovemaking. Now there was considerably less shyness, and more laughing, and more experimenting, and most important there was never any judging, just being together and having fun.

And during the latest of those evenings in bed, Emily gets a shock.

They are playing, having fun, Benson is becoming more relaxed, and Emily’s hands are loosely tied to the head of the bed. With her arms stretched out, and Benson playing with her erect nipples she is excited. He is a strong man and with his weight on top of her and him settled between her thighs she is completely unable to move at all, imprisoned under this muscled man. She is wearing her rubber sports peep hole bra and crotchless panties, but that doesn’t seem to be the catalyst, for very quickly Emily realizes she has become very wet. She cannot account for this, he is in charge here, at least meant to be and this is a first, she tries to wriggle under him, giggling, but can’t move an inch… and she likes that. She struggles harder, but all this does is increase Benson’s ardour, and as their eyes meet, without warning he thrusts into her. She grunts as his cock, which she is only now getting accustomed to its size, breaches her.

This is their most physical, almost violent lovemaking, and it shocks Emily. Not because of Benson’s overpowering her, not forcing her but just by his physicality, he is able to do this with ease, no, what shocks her is how much she relishes it. She can’t stop him, he’s far too strong, and she doesn’t want to stop him. She is helpless and she likes it. After she has come, twice, she is stunned to see that he hasn’t come yet. Just how did this happen? He pulls out from her, coolly eases off the condom, then shuffles up her body. Is this really Benson here, doing this with such self assurance? Hello, hello, she thinks, but with his weight on her she can do nothing as he places his hand behind her head and pulls it to his cock. She stares at the gleaming muscle, this is so unlike him.

“Look, Benson…aaarrgh…ahhhg, hhhmm.”

And he has pulled her head, quite gently but forcefully onto his cock. She looks up, shock in her eyes, hhmming, but he’s staring at the wall, his eyes half closed, stroking her head, but making sure her mouth is still plugged by him. She should be horrified at this change in him, but what she can’t understand is that she is so hot, inflamed and wet between her legs. She’s a dominatrix for god’s sake, she should be on top! This isn’t right, it can’t be. After a short while, she can feel him coming, and pulls back her head a couple of inches as his hot seed spurts into the back of her throat. She swallows, once, twice, three times, licking him dry. Sated, he rolls off her and they both stare at the ceiling in silence. They know something important has happened, for both of them.

After a few seconds to catch their breath, Benson is immediately apologetic, he can’t believe what came over him, and she can see he’s worried that he might have been too physical. While Emily had never been so submissive during the scenario, she cannot deny that she had, astonishingly to her anyway, loved it. But she says he has nothing to worry about, it was really good, it had been a surprise, but she likes him to take the initiative – and he should do it more.

And in her mind a seed has been sown. And maybe two birds could be killed with a single stone?

A Package Arrives

It is over six weeks from her sending the notes and drawings to her bondage supplier that a package finally arrives. Carol had been reminding her, asking if it has arrived, but the supplier likes to take his time, he’s a professional, an artisan.  He has been impressed with the drawings and assures her she will not be disappointed.

Emily takes a deep breath and opens the package in her stables. Boned corset, boned neck corset, thumbless mitts, all in superb light tan soft Spanish leather. The workmanship is excellent, all brass buckles and rings shine and the leather smells and looks wonderful. She studies the harness of straps of smooth, soft but unforgiving leather. And then she moves to the rubber covered steel bit, and the very nasty looking curved rubber tongue depressor, with rubber barbs on the upper side. She had decided not to change Carol’s design, but still she really isn’t sure if this is what Carol had in mind when she designed something like this. It really looks quite unpleasant. Is Carol really ready for this?

And then looking at all the gear and thinking back to Benson taking over the dominant role from her the other week, this gives her an idea.

Well why not, she thinks, no harm in asking.

A Very Big Step

Benson comes over in the afternoon after she had received the package, and they have a relaxed early dinner, more a tea really. There is a lull in activity in his unit, and an evening off seems a very good idea to him, they owe him weeks and weeks of holiday, and never question him when he takes some time off during a lull. It is mid-summer and the sun will take some time to set and so they have a very light meal on her patio. She is really starting to like having him around, liking it a lot. He has stayed over quite a bit, he would get a call occasionally and she has to accept that, he is after all the star detective. And she likes having him in the house, he has moved some clothes over, even gardening clothes for goodness sake. She isn’t worried by this at all, he has never for a second made any untoward comments on her work, it is her profession, and all he wants is for her to be happy. He is certainly much less shy, or perhaps introverted, than he was before. Their sex has definitely helped his confidence and he seems relaxed with her, and she certainly is with him.

As they prepare for a very early bed - he is in t-shirt and shorts and she was in her rubber peep hole sports bra (she nearly always wears this now, to keep her boobs nice and firm, and anyway, he says he likes it) and a different pair of rubber panties, these with an opening at the front and ventilation holes at the rear, her raven hair pulled back in a pony tail, she decides to broach the idea that has been fermenting all day. She has been thinking about that night when Benson had taken her, literally, overpowering her, and the look on his face, and she’s been thinking about Carol’s pony tack.

“Benson (she still calls him Benson, she doesn’t like Sam, not yet anyway, and she’s long given up with the Chief Inspector tag, except when using it to tease him - which is actually quite often) erm, I want to ask you a favour, big favour.” She sits on the bed next to him.

“You know we have agreed never to mix our work, well more like my work, and pleasure, although we have a bit of rubber in bed, which I think you like don’t you?” He smiles and nods, and Emily can see he already knows that something is coming.

“Yeeees?”

“I think that’s a good idea, you know, work and pleasure and all that… but I want to make an exception, if you will let me. Just this once. And it involves you.”

He waits, a slightly amused look on his chiselled face. It has worked perfectly so far, very slow to start with, he has never criticised her, never made any judgmental comment, it is her profession and that is it, and she hugely respects, well more, much more than respects, him for it. But he seems interested where this will go.

“Look, I have a client, who is moving into a new area of our relationship and she wants me to explore further with her. Yes, it’s a she. And I don’t know if she’s ready. Okay, I’ll be honest, it’s actually it’s one of the women you saw the first time you came here, remember? Carol.” She is standing by the bed now, facing him and she can see Benson is finding it hard to listen to her, ogling her rubber encased breasts.

“Would you concentrate, please! Anyway, she has some new gear, equipment, costume, whatever you will, that she designed herself; it is beautiful craftsmanship but I want to see if it… works properly, all fits together. It’s quite complicated and I’m not sure if she’s up for it yet, or even me actually, so erm er, I want you to put me in it, for me to give it a trial run. I’m of a very similar build to her, we’re both tall, fairly athletic, she’s a bit bigger in the boob and waist department, but the stuff should fit me just fine.”

She looks at him questioningly, her hands on her hips, striking a pose that he finds it hard to concentrate. He gives it a thought.

“But we did agree, didn’t we? I know we’ve been into a bit of rubber, but just underwear and such, is this all to do with heavy duty rubber gas masks, suits, and you know… you remember, that night?”

“No, no, and anyway Benson,” she smiles coyly, “you didn’t seem to dislike all that when…” She teased.

“No, well no, but I didn’t have much choice, did I? And anyway, you were showing me your oral… okay, never mind, but you’re right, we shouldn’t mix this too much with your work. That is well, unless we both agree to it, to change, mutually the, erm rules.”

She nods, he’s being very reasonable, so far. Hhmm, that’s interesting she thinks, he’s never said that before – mix this too much, - too much - unless we agree, hhmm, that’s interesting, okay, back to the matter in hand.

“Okay, what’s the deal.”

“No, no, no heavy-duty rubber, no gas masks, no inflatables, that’s for my stables, and you don’t have to dress up at all, unless you want to that is.” She teases him. “It’s to do with pony play, you know about that, when people dress up as…”

“Yes, I know, I’m not a monk you know.”

“Okay, I’m aware of that, I just want you to be fully aware of where this is going. Anyway, she has designed, and I have ordered some tack, I think you call it, corset, harness, leather straps and all, and a bridle and a bit, a very serious bit, and I want to test them to see if they are not too unpleasant, you know, painful. I have a feeling she would endure it, even if she’s in pain, and I don’t want that, you see? I agree absolutely we should try not to bring stuff from the stables into the bedroom (although it could be fun, she thought) but this one time, you could help me out. I am a professional yes, but I’m going into a particular area for the first time, and I need to feel comfortable and of course in control. If my sub feels that I’m not 100%, she will sense this will and it will affect her performance too. So, what do you say, is it okay?” She gives him a little girl look, knowing he won’t fall for it, and then laughs. He knows she has him, for now she can tell he is intrigued, but again she doesn’t want to push him into something he’s not comfortable with.

“Why not just test it on your… client?” He asked very reasonably. Hhmm, good question, very good question, Emily thinks.

“Well, as I just said, erm, she’s a perfectionist, erm, and everything has to be right, even the first time, and she expects me to be absolutely on top of my game, otherwise the spell is lost. And I still think that even if she was in some form of distress, she might be too proud to admit it, after all this is all her idea. Anyway I don’t mind testing it. Some of the masks I’ve tested first, that one with the cock gag and rebreather bag, I tested on you, ha ha, well I’ve had that on. I had to be careful there. Benson, look I’m just being professional, but I need some help with this gear.” She realises she is rambling a bit and an experienced interrogator like Benson will see through it. He probably does.

“I don’t know, Emily, this is a bit of a leap isn’t it? Up to now it’s been you in some rubber clothing, which by the way you look fantastic in, and some tying up, not heavy duty at all. Now this is, well, different. It’s really ramping it up, isn’t it?”

“Yes, for sure, and if you don’t feel happy helping me, that’s fine, I’ll work off the cuff with Carol, it will be okay.” She knows this passive-aggressive stance won’t work on a pro like Benson, but she is surprised, just a little, to see him, rather reluctantly, nod.

“Okay, all right, I get the picture, bring it out then, let’s do it, but let’s be quick, and then can we go to bed.” She leans over and kisses him hard.

“You’re a brick, Benson.” And quickly she goes to the large old wardrobe and pulls out the box and a pair of tan hoof boots.

“Oh, I see you figured that it would be a fait acomplit, you knew I’d …”

“The wiles of a woman.” She comes to him and kisses him again. She then begins to unravel all the parts of the ensemble. She lays them on the bed.

Playing Pony

“Corset and neck corset first.” He spends a minute or so looking at it, not in a dismissive way, but certainly nervous.

“Christ, you don’t mess around, do you? Mind you, I should know that by now. I’ve seen your office often enough.” He sees her give him a look. “I know, I know, no judging. Okay, let’s get going here and then we can get back to the real world.” He looks up at her and sees she’s not pleased with that.

“Well, it may not be real to you, but it’s my profession, and hundreds, thousands are into it, no one is harmed, everyone is respected.”

He holds up both hands.

“Stop, stop, that was insensitive of me, I was being flippant, because I’m a bit nervous that’s all, okay, I’m sorry, so can we get on please?”

“Okay, sorry for the speech. Look, the whole point of this equipment, and everything in the stables, and me being there is guiltless enjoyment, okay? Putting people at ease and taking them on a ride of pleasure. I thought we agreed on that by now.” She realizes she is getting a bit tense, a bit nervous. “Phew, okay, so this corset first, yes?”

“Well, I think the bra had better come off.”

“See, I knew you’d be up for it.” She pulls up her bra, and Benson takes a breath. He’s seen these orbs many times now, but still they make him almost weak at the knees. God, she is beautiful. The corset extends from just above her boobs to above her bald pubis and laces at the back, so she holds it for him as he begins to lace it, two laces, top to bottom and vice versa, to meet in the middle.

“Look it’s overlapping your panties, maybe, erm, they should come off too. What do you think?” She can see that he is becoming more relaxed now, so she coyly steps out of them, and he immediately places his hands on her buttocks, those wonderful globes, squeezing playfully. Yes, she certainly likes this, but wants her to concentrate on the matter in hand for now.

“Hey, back to work, plenty of time for that later.” Very quickly the smooth, soft leather is gripping her waist, and she likes the feel, squeezing her, gripping her agreeably. Soon he is finished lacing, and she feels his hands run up and down the beautiful tan leather.

“Hhhmm, you look wonderful, but of course you don’t really need a corset, perfect as you are.”

Oh, she thinks, that’s nice of him, but just smiles and bows her head. She is just a little short of breath but would have to get used to that.

“Okay, neck corset or posture collar next, lacing at the back.” She raises her chin and he places it around her neck and begins pulling in the laces. When finished, her head is slightly elevated, not too high, but it will certainly limit her looking down.

“Are you all right, it looks quite uncomfortable?”

“No, no, it’s okay actually, I can move to the sides and up and down a bit, not too bad, but these straps here might make that a bit more difficult.” The corset has incorporated into it, two circular openings that cup, support and frame her breasts. At the top of these two straps pass over her shoulders and attach to the rear of the corset. He tenderly takes her breasts, and he can see her nipples are hardening. He takes a breath, careful not to make eye contact now as he passes them through the circle of leather, over her shoulder and buckle them to the back of the corset.

“Phew, you okay? I have to say you look fantastic.”

“Hhmm. Fine, a bit rigid.” She nods, a little restricted. “Now this tongue of leather between my boobs needs to be connected to the ring at the front of the neck corset here.” This he does.

“And this strap is connected between the corset and the ring at the base of the collar at the back there.” He does this too, pulling it tight.

“Are you sure about this? I mean this looks pretty uncomfortable, like out of the inquisition, can you move your head now?”

“Yeah, but not much, it certainly severely limits the movement,” she chuckles, “which is the point, of course. Yes, getting tighter by the minute.” She almost says to herself.

“Look, Emily, I think this is enough, you’ve got the general idea, it all works really well, you look great, so let’s call it a day, okay? Please?”

“No, no, the most important part is the head harness, that’s what really controls the woman, erm pony I mean, don’t chicken out now, Benson. I’m fine, really. Come on, please.” But she is not sure that she is. The combination of neck and body corset and the myriad of straps hold her in an unforgiving grip. She does of course look fantastic, Benson thinks, her gorgeous body partly encased in smooth tan leather, erect and, well, proud.

“I’m just not comfortable, but if you want to go on, all right, what next?”

“The boots I think, these are Carol’s but we have the same shoe size, or pretty close.” She tries to lean over and realises that she should have put these on before the corset.

“Ow, ahh, that was dumb, you’re going to have to help me here. Help me put my feet in and then you zip me up, okay?” She sits on the bed and he places her feet in the smooth leather, then he zips her up to her knee.

“These are an amazing design, you’re sort of on your toes but there’s no heel, they’re going to be really uncomfortable, I don’t know how you will keep your balance.”  While saying this he can’t help but look up from his kneeling position at her exposed bald pussy, already moistening, hhmm, that’s interesting, he thinks.

“They’re easier than they look. Honestly. The toes are pretty wide and the heel is supported by this curved steel sole, I’ll be fine I think. I’m used to high heels in my business, and Carol has tried them out and she’s pretty good in them. Okay the mitts next, I think.” And she places her hands into the soft thumbless mitts which he then fastens at her wrists.

“What about these rings here at the ends?”

“You’ll see right now. Get that short chain and pass it through the rings.” She places her hands behind her back, fingers pointed to her head.

“Okay, now wait a minute. What’s going on here, I don’t like this.”

“Don’t be such a twit, Benson, can’t you see? The whole point is having the woman, the pony, under control. Now just connect the ends of the mitts to the ring at the back of the collar, go on, pull it up.” With a sigh he does so, attaching her mittened hands to the collar, and now her arms are useless, pulled high behind her back. And they both notice the immediate effect it has of pushing her boobs out.

“Phew, wow, well that seems to do the job, hhmmm. I can’t move at all.” Emily murmurs. Yes, it certainly does the job, Benson thinks, and despite - or perhaps because of - the defenceless predicament of his girlfriend, he can feel his cock grow hard. Oh my, what is coming over him? She is simply gorgeous, and a part of him wants to ravage her right there. What is she doing to him? And Emily almost seems almost in a trance. She tries to move her arms, nothing gives, she takes a breath and is now all business again.

“Okay, come on! The head harness is the last bit, don’t quit on me now, come on Benson, the sooner I’m in this the sooner I’m out and we can go to bed, I have a feeling you’re going to be ready.” And he suddenly realises right then that he isn’t about to quit, he now wants to see this through. To see just how powerless and vulnerable she is prepared to be, displayed in front of him. He is so used to seeing her in control, even for the most part, when they are in bed. Now he is to see her completely vulnerable, within his power, and this rather excites him. He takes the harness, trying to get an idea how it all fits.

“Start with the pony tail ring, that brass ring, pull my pony tail through that and everything else makes sense.” Makes sense? Benson has to laugh at that, as he gently pulls her hair through the brass ring, then begins to arrange the tangle of straps and buckles over her head. She stands perfectly still, looking at herself in the mirror, second by second becoming more defenceless.

Soon it does make sense to Benson; straps down from the crown at the front, past one encircling her forehead, separating at her nose, then two large brass rings either side of her mouth, and two more straps, under her chin, and around her neck. More straps from the ring at her crown down the side of her head and separating above her ears, then connecting with the heavy strap around her neck. And on either side of her eyes, there are, well, blinkers, soft oval pads of rubber covered foam, connected to the harness by a brass swivel. Christ, he thought, they have thought of everything, the craftmanship and the imagination are truly amazing. He can now see a sheen of perspiration on her face, she has said nothing for a while, just breathing evenly, but then says.

“Good, now tighten them, properly, it has to be snug.” He complies, well aware that his cock is stretching the front of his shorts and hoping she can’t see him aroused like this. She closes her eyes, now breathing hard through her nose, her breasts rising and falling above the restrictive corset. When he has tightened them all, she tests them, attempts to move her head, there is some movement allowed, both up and down and to the sides, but not much, she thinks wryly. Just enough for the mistress to control her pony with the bit and the reins. Now Benson stands back a couple of feet, examining her, trying to stay objective.

“That is really very strange, remarkable that someone would subject themselves… okay, are we done now?” But he knows they aren’t really, for he sees her look down to the last item on the bed, which is the rubber covered bit and the nasty barbed tongue depressor, and he knows that this will truly control her. 

“That is the bit, no pun intended. That is the piece I’m not sure about, frankly all this corset stuff, and harness is quite comfortable, restricting, of course, but not painful or anything, you get used to the constriction quickly. But this baby is a different proposition. And I need to test it. Okay, come on.”

“I don’t know, Emily, these rubber barbs, bristles. Look, I don’t want you to be in any discomfort, I don’t like the look of these at all.”

“Dammit, Chief Inspector (she knows this will tick him off) grow a cock and get on with it! I haven’t come this far to quit now!” In reality he does rather want to see how the bit will be in her mouth, for every extra piece of her equipment is strangely getting him aroused. But he also doesn’t want to see any harm come to Emily. What if the barbs cut her palate?

“Come on. First attach the lead reins to the curved sides here of the bridle. This is on a swivel, you see? Once you pull the lead rein, the bridle swivels the bit, and the rubber bung here is raised to the roof of the mouth of the pony, me, and well, the pony has no option to obey. Come on Benson, the full gear includes nipple clamps and bells and a large butt plug pony tail snugly sealed in the pony’s arse. My arse, okay? You get the picture. This evening I’ll not bother with that, thank you, so just finish with the bit, all right?”

“Jesus, Emily,” he murmurs to himself, “okay open wide, you crazy beautiful woman.”

“You’re a good man, Benson. Doing what you’re told. I like that.” She laughs, though nervously he notices, as he places it as gently as he can in her gaping mouth, past her perfect white front teeth, the curved, contoured rubber bung now resting on her tongue.

“Aaarggh, aaahh!”

“Oh shit, you okay?” She nods imperceptibly, she doesn’t realise the size of the damn thing.  He clips the ends of the bit through the rings at the sides of her mouth.

“Aaahh, aaahh.” She breathes slowly, nodding to her partner, feeling the smooth underside of the rubber tongue depressor with her own tongue. She finds out immediately she can’t swallow, the curved rear of the device has pulled her tongue slightly forward and down, holding it there, making any tongue movement almost impossible, and she certainly can’t make any identifiable communication. She comes to the conclusion - very quickly - that this is a very efficient device for controlling a woman, or pony. It fits snugly, the rubber bit settles just behind her canines, not uncomfortably, not biting into the sides of her mouth, so it is manageable. Yes, not too bad, but what will happen when the reins are pulled? They stand opposite each other, each with their thoughts. She tries to smile, no, not much chance there either, but nods again.

“Aaaaahh.”

“You okay, you look so… helpless there.”

Well duh, she thinks, isn’t that the point? She is getting warm, she is beginning to perspire, and she realises that it isn’t the tight harness, for she is getting warm, and wet inside. Her nipples are hard, and she can see Benson glance at them. And she glances down, as far as she can, and sees he has an erection, badly concealed behind his shorts.

Benson Is A Bit Confused

What the hell is happening here? She’s a dom, she has no subbie tendencies, or at least until that night when Benson overpowered her - and certainly now. She is a professional that hands out the punishment and teasing torments, not receives them, but her body is telling her something here. Of course, she really enjoyed being held down by Benson and fucked that night, and then sucking him off, but this is different, for she is completely in his hands, helpless, essentially a dumb obedient animal. And her body is sending her a message. She feels even wetter between her legs, what the hell is going on here?

And Benson can see it too. But he addresses her seriously.

“I really don’t know about this, Emily, we agreed we wouldn’t bring your work to the bedroom and look at you. We agreed to that, but for just this one time I allowed you to… I think we should get you out of that.”

“Aaaahh.” She shakes her head.

“Yes, well not much of a communicator now, are you? What now? Are we done? We must be done. Good, so let’s get you released.”

She shakes her head as best she can again and moves her eyes quickly from left to right. He looks at her and finally seems to get the message.

“The blinkers, you want to test them?”

She nods. And he takes each blinker between finger and thumb and brings them together, pressing them into the brass attachment above her nose. For Emily it suddenly becomes pitch black now, not a glimmer of light, and she feels a bit jittery at first, but after a few seconds she settles, after all she’s with Benson. She knows her partner, her lover, is just inches away. Okay, she thinks, only the barbed bung left now, and this makes her apprehensive, as she raises, and lowers her head, shaking it.

“You want me to what? Lead you, take the reins?”

She nods again.

“This is madness. Okay, but I’m going to be really easy with you here, I’ve seen those rubber spikes.”

And suddenly the bung leaps up into her palate.

“Aaahh, aaahh.” She shrieks and lets out a gasp of shock. It really isn’t that painful, perhaps for a second only, but it is the shock of it all. For certain, she does not want those barbs there for more than a couple of seconds. So from a discipline stratagem, she knows it would work on the woman - pony, brilliantly. To assuage the discomfort, she moves forward blindly, following the reins, trying to keep the plug resting on her tongue rather than pressing on her palate.

It certainly was a very good means for control.

A Filly Covered

She feels another pull on the reins and she has to follow, taking small steps in her high hoof boots. Wait a minute. Where is he taking her? Aaaaahhh. She has to walk slowly, following the gentle pull of the reins. He must be taking her out of the bedroom, down the corridor, she obediently follows, what else could she do? Then she is turned around, twice, three times, she is losing her bearings. What the hell! He is playing with her. She hadn’t banked on that. Wait a minute here, okay, we’ve done the test drive, okay, lets get the gear off now. Let’s get it off, now!

“Aaaahh, aaahh.” Then the reins are pulled again, albeit gently.

“Aaaahh.” She complains loudly, saliva now running down her chin, okay enough, enough… although she is aware that she is now becoming very wet between her thighs. I don’t believe this, what is happening to me? She comes to a stop, her legs spread a little for balance. She can sense her reins being removed, good, I’ve had enough of that barb plug, thank you very much. Carol can deal with it all right, I should think. She’s a pro. Then nothing happens for a few seconds, until a finger rests on her labia.

“Aaaaahh, aaahh.” No, no, she doesn’t want this to happen, not like this.

“Aaaahh.” She shakes her head as much as she can, which isn’t much. Oh, god, you bastard, you bastard. His finger is in her, and now his soft mouth is around her nipple. She feels so vulnerable, she knows that is the point, but has never been on this side of the equation, except perhaps that night with the mad murderer.

Benson looks up at her as he twists his lips around a hard, warm nipple, his finger is now soaked in her juices. What the hell am I doing? This is the woman I, well, love, yes love and I’m taking advantage of her helplessness. This is crazy. What has possessed me to do this, to take advantage of this beautiful, helpless woman. I must be going mad, I really have to stop, now.

Looking at her now, completely within his power, her arms pulled up behind her back, her breasts cupped by the cruelly tight corset and her head, her head erect, and well that harness was something. All their lovemaking up to now - with the one exception when he had held her down - had been gentle, compassionate, consensual. She is a wonderful lover with a tender, warm mouth which she uses on his cock to make him come whenever she feels the urge.

She is always in charge, leading the proceedings.

He has to admit, confess, that he would like the lovemaking to last longer than it does, he knows he is getting better, a lot better, but the longest they’d been was when he had taken charge, which certainly set his mind in motion, what had made him so much more competent that evening? The fact that he had dominated her, controlled her? That was a rather shocking thought.

She is so beautiful, and so skillful, and yet up to that one night, he always felt it ended too quickly. She never said anything but he felt she would have liked it to last longer too. Well, they would have to work on it. And anyway, he always knew he was in capable hands.

So why now is he taking this outrageous advantage of her, tied and trussed like a chicken? Available to be plucked and fucked in any way he wishes. It is the basest instinct of course, but for some reason he thinks he is a person who does not have that urge within him. It doesn’t mean he would go out and do this to a stranger, no, no that isn’t it, he isn’t interested in that at all, this is Emily, who knows more about sex than he could ever learn. And the other really strange thing is that he can see she is becoming highly aroused by her submissive role, without a doubt, maybe she has surprised herself as well.

She is wet, close to coming, her nipples are engorged and hard, her face is red and sweating. She isn’t fighting him, maybe her submissive role has embarrassed her, or at least her pleasure in experiencing it. So he is gaining confidence and competence by becoming the dominant, and she is unearthing a submissive side. He can hardly believe that this could happen. Part of him is just a little embarrassed, but then if she is aroused by this, and embarrassed by her arousal as well, why shouldn’t he take this further?

And so the trigger has been pulled, and without a further thought he leads her down the corridor to the bathroom and back, gently pulling her reins, and well aware of the hard cock seeking escape from his shorts. And he is even aroused when he listens to her slight whimpering, and sees her questioning look on her face, the aaaaahh when the barbed gag forces her to follow obediently. Now he just wants to hold her, make love to her, and yes, play with her, and oh yes, seriously fuck her.

Later she might be furious, fuming mad, kick him out, and he wouldn’t blame her for that, but somehow he doesn’t believe so, his inner intuition says to him, I think she’s actually enjoying this, she’s mad at her reaction to being in a submissive role, but she’s relishing it… at least I hope so.

He pulls her to him, he has been sitting on the bed for a few seconds, looking up at her, but is now leaning back, and lying on the bed, she is standing astride his legs. He’s taken his t-shirt and shorts off and is like her, naked, except of course for all her equestrian tackle. Ohmygod, she looks so delectable - despite all the saliva dripping from her bit. He grips the corset and gently pulls her towards him, she senses the end of the bed and kneels either side of him, offering another aaaaahhh.

He has been rock hard for at least ten minutes - nearly a record for him with Emily, and now his cock will get some satisfaction, and he hopes Emily will too. He slips two condoms on quickly. She is dripping wet as he raises her, aiming his large rod at her moist love channel. She feels it immediately and rather than flinch she aaaaahhhes and drops down onto him. She squats over him for a second, nodding her head slowly, then using her strong thighs she rises a few inches and then drops back.

He is determined not to come too soon, and tries to just calm down, hard to do with a trussed, blindfolded and bitted beauty impaled on his cock. But with her like this, he seems to be a different man, more in control - of her of course, but also himself. He massages her breasts, rolled her nipples and with another finger finds her nubbin, which is hard and inflamed. Now she aaaahhes loudly, in pleasure he hopes, as she raises herself almost off him then violently rams down on him, right to his root.

As one, they continue their rather odd coupling, she is completely helpless, arms pulled up her back, blinkered and effectively gagged and yet she controls her thrusts, stopping for a rest when she feels it right… or perhaps when she feels him close to coming. He has to admire her, even as a powerless pony she still seems to hold control!

And what about Emily?

For the moment, time stands still, yes, she was mad at him initially, really mad, for not releasing her when she wanted, for she wanted out of the tight leather tack. The costume is exactly what Carol wanted and needed, and it has been road tested. The rubber barbs in the tongue depressor are a perfect controlling device, they don’t break the skin of her palate, but they certainly can make it very uncomfortable, and any subbie will need to be immediately obedient.

What has made Benson take her like that? Pull her along by the reins through the house, and then against everything that she knew of him, take her forcibly… well all right, she had planted herself on his cock, but he would have done it anyway.

She is confused with her own feelings. She considers herself a bit of an expert regarding the inner sexual psyche, but her own reactions have shocked her. She is under someone else’s complete control. Yes, it is Benson, that makes it different, but what embarrasses her is that she is thrilled by the whole exercise, she has convinced herself that she is a dom, only a dom, and that is it. But her body has been telling her otherwise. 

And this is a new Benson, similar to the other week when he had forced her (well, not really) to fuck and suck him, but now he is even more confident. Somehow, have their roles been reversed? How could that have happened? And now they have been “going at it” for how long, longer than she has ever been with him before, much longer, and what does that say about him?

Is this how he likes her?

Finally, after she has come and come, shuddering and shaking and dementedly aaaahhhing, he has come too, pulling her down on his hard cock. After a couple of minutes he removes his condoms - a trick he had learnt earlier is to use two condoms, thick ones, not the super-thin, and these help enormously for him to go longer with her - and lifts her off him, and tenderly lays her on her side. He lies by her, stroking her, and then he releases her mittened hands from behind her back, unbuckles them and takes them off, allowing her to take the dreaded bit from her mouth, and unclip her blinders, but she leaves it at that, just lying there, getting her breath back.

For fully a minute neither says anything, each staring at the other, and he whispers.

“I don’t know what to say, I have no excuse, I took you by force, in law that is… I saw you like that, so defenceless and so beautiful, I don’t know what triggered it. I just wanted to take you, make love to you like that, take you hard. I have no excuses, I have no explanation as to what came over me. Emily, say something, or kick me out, do something.” In the dark he can see her turn on her side away from him, with a little difficulty, being still in her corset, neck corset and harnesses. She says nothing for a further minute, and then replies.

“For god’s sake, I can’t believe this myself, Chief Inspector (was she having fun with him?) that’s the best series of orgasms I’ve ever had in my life, and we managed to keep it going for a record time, so for fuck’s sake, less of the pity trip, okay?” But he can see she did look worried for a minute.

“No, no, you see it’s not you I’m concerned or worried about, it’s me. Don’t you get it?” she is almost shouting now. He pulls her to him, she can feel his cock between her buttock cheeks - steady there, Chief - and he places his hand over her and gently positions it on her breast.

“What, I don’t underst…”

“Look you fool, I’ve spent my whole life, even as a small child, being in charge, I always sought control and well, pretty well always got it. I’m a control freak, look at what I do in the stables. I would never allow a client, never, to take any kind of initiative. We work 90% of it out before. Don’t you understand? The only time I have ever been cuffed and also, remember, I had a butt plug up my tender rear, was “that night”. So, Benson, you will see I’m having a real problem adjusting, realising, that… I can’t believe this happened, how could I not have known? I have a sub side too. I have been on top, the dom, all my life, and now this happens. The second you pulled my mittens behind me and up to my collar, I felt a warmth, a comfort that I was in your hands; that you could do anything to me, and I could do nothing. I’m aware of that feeling in others, my clients, my subs tell me what a wonderful feeling it is, to give yourself to another, completely, but this was me. And that to me was frightening, but also exciting too. But the thing is, it is about you Benson, it isn’t just me being a sub, but me being a sub under you. It’s you, Benson, who I want to dom me. God, I can’t believe I said that!” She stops, exhausted that this has all come out in a single minute. He grips her, holds her tight, and he can feel, despite all the orgasms, she is tense. He whispers, his mouth an inch from her ear.

“I don’t know what the problem is, it’s me you’re with, you can trust me. Right from the start, why didn’t you know that? It’s me, and all I want is for you to be comfortable, happy with me. I don’t care if you’re the dom, or the sub, because it’s you. Emily, you’re way overanalysing this. I don’t care if you want to be sub or dom, I just want you. God, what other way can I put it?”

And then, would you believe, he sees a single tear drip down Emily’s cheek and under the straps of the bridle. And she nods, look back at him.

“I know I know, but this whole sub/dom thing is all very well in the stables with a client, where all the roles are clearly defined, but this is us, and I wanted to keep it uncomplicated, no role play, yes a bit of bondage maybe, and a bit of rubber, but I just want this to be us, nice and simple, this today, has gone further and faster that I could have imagined.”

“As I said, you’re overanalysing it, it’s just us and why can’t we have fun and play any roles we want?”

And Emily is shocked that it is Benson, and not her, who says this, and it is he who is more comfortable with where this relationship seems to be going, because right now, she’s not quite so comfortable.

A Period Of Acknowledgement Rather Than Indoctrination

Over the next three weeks - Benson actually takes a week off during a less busy period - almost unheard of in the station - allows them to explore further their changing “relationship”. This is not a case of Emily indoctrinating Benson in the finer points of the sub/dom relationship, but both parties realising that, with absolutely no pressure on either party, it might be a good opportunity to explore and bond further.

They both realise that after that night everything would change. It is a Pandora’s Box, the genie, or whatever it might turn out to be, is out, and won’t go back in. Both now know what can turn the other on, there is no point in ignoring it, pretending it didn’t happen. They both also know that what is happening to them, and how they are reacting, still surprises both of them. This, neither of them thought would happen, no, not a chance. And it is Emily, all-in-charge Emily who takes just that bit longer to acknowledge it. She can’t believe it, but the evidence had been clear. She has a sub side, there it is. That is, being a sub with Benson, and she is still struggling to comprehend that Benson would, well, adjust, adapt, adopt as easily as he seems to be doing?

She dwells on this far too long, but then she realises that this in fact will help her in her profession, for now she can experience the sub’s sensations and not simply rely on their descriptions afterwards. She will still be the dom, the very professional dom in her stables, that will never change. But with Benson, their roles now seem to drift one way one minute, and then coalesce the other. Even an experienced analyst like Emily sometimes wonders where this will end, or maybe there isn’t an end?

But one thing is irrefutable, with Benson – and who would have believed this when they first met - she is happy, is happy to play any role, because she loves him, simple. It hadn’t taken long and in her more serious moments she thinks she’s acting like a smitten ingenue. Perhaps playing the role of sub not all of the time by any means, but when the mood seems to demand it, when they both feel the time is right. She knows, as does he, that when she is in that role then he will perform with more confidence. That is a simple fact, at least for the present. Over those weeks, he realises this (he has to admit, rather pleasant) conundrum is not going away, and besides how can he deny that seeing her helpless and submissive excites him. Both could analyse it to death, deny it, pretend it isn’t there, but they can’t ignore it, it won’t go away.

So they accept it, it doesn’t take a long discussion or analysis in the end. They are a couple now, warts and all. There is no denying that, and their bond (no pun intended) is getting stronger all the time. If they do something together that they both enjoy, never mind who is playing what role, sometimes there isn’t even a role, then why deny themselves?

A couple of days after Benson had Emily in her horse gear, it is Emily who, without any pressing, invites Benson to try just a little rubber himself. She has no evil intent here, no hidden agenda, he has a gorgeous body, at least Emily thinks so, and with the addition of some rubber, well. And he’s worn it before, during that frightening night with Ruby and the madwoman. Forgetting the context, he looked extremely sexy in the rubber catsuit.

“Hey, Benson, I was thinking that maybe you’d like to try something different to wear in bed tonight, hhmm?” She looks coyly at him, ever so innocent. She’s wearing her usual peephole rubber sports bra and panties with openings back and front. She loves wearing these in bed now, they give her support and cling to her, embrace her. She holds up a pair of shorts, they look fairly conventional shorts, elasticated waist, length to mid-thigh, and with just a flap for the fly. But they are made of medium thickness dark blue rubber. He looks at them, seems reticent at first, but then the whole scene with Carol’s pony tack a couple of days ago comes to his mind. So why not, no big deal. He acquiesces and, wonder of wonders, finds he quite likes the material. Initially cool and clingy, but smooth and soft, he quickly warms up, in more ways than one, for with Emily beside him, teasing him, arousing him, complimenting him, his cock quickly hardens and pops out of his fly. It crosses Emily’s mind, completely innocently, that it might be easier than she thought to persuade him to try out new clothing, new scenarios.

As for Benson, no, he doesn’t think of himself as a fetishist (whatever that is) he can’t see himself alone in the rubber, but in the company of Emily, well really, why not? It nearly always leads to some fun and frolics, so no harm done, right?

And there’s nothing devious in Emily’s motives when she persuades Benson that he would look pretty cool in a rubber t-shirt, with his shorts, and he again agrees to this, it’s not a big deal after all, and they spend an evening just relaxing at her home doing that, and then go to bed… and this, now they are so at ease with each other, no tension, no shyness, no stress, no embarrassment, nearly always leads to some very satisfactory sex. It’s a couple of days later she helps him into a pair of spectacular shimmering white tights (by now he needs very little encouragement or teasing) that cling to his muscled legs as if the have been painted on. He’s a little nervous at first, but when she helps him pull his cock and balls through the opening at the front, she’s very pleased to feel him grow hard immediately.

A week later, she decides to take another step. There is no end-game here, she’s just trying to get him completely uninhibited, he’s certainly improving but she still thinks that he’s so enamoured with her, that somehow he holds back - except when she’s playing a pony that is! So she gets an idea, and takes two identical rubber masks, with just eye, nose and mouth holes and while he is lying on the bed in rubber t-shirt and shorts, approaches him. She is nervous at first, for this is a bit of a leap. T-shirts, shorts and even tights are one thing but a mask is something else entirely. She doesn’t want to frighten him off and knows she must not seem to push him.

“Hey, Benson, no pressure here, but what say we try these, just for fun. I know you think I’m Waterford crystal or Meissen porcelain, but I think you still need to let it all go. Remember I loved you taking me hard when I was a pony girl, so, with these, you can be anyone you like, slave master, buccaneer, Casanova, sexy spy. And I can be your concubine, your favourite harem girl.” She sees a little reluctance on his face. “Sounds silly I know, probably looks silly too, but when you are in the moment it works, believe me, we’ve talked about this before, once you are anonymous, masked - and me too -  there are no inhibitions, you can be anyone, do anything you like. Benson, tell me if I’m being a pillock, pushing you too far and I’ll get rid of them, okay, straight away and we can get down to some uninhibited sex, no problem at all. I don’t want to mess this up, you mean way to much to me for that. You may think I’m being the bossy one again. But I think it might be fun.” She waits for fully ten, fifteen seconds, watching him think this through. Going through her mind is that maybe she is going too far, pushing him. What does she want from him?

But Benson is aware that up to now, their lovemaking could be better, well maybe not better, but it could be longer. She is wonderful, in every way, but she’s right, he still puts her on this pedestal (and why not?) and he should get rid of this hang-up and relax. And she is quite surprised when he agrees, perhaps a little reticently. Mumbling, more to himself, that this is crazy, he still has a tiny smile on his face. She kneels by him, kissing him.

“Hey, Benson, there’s no safe word needed here, you think it’s not your gig, great we take a step back.” She slides hers on first, smoothing it over her head. He has to admit she looks great, mysterious, perhaps a little intimidating. Then she opens his out and he takes a breath and dips his head into the flaccid rubber. As she pulls it over his head, and zips it down the back, she doesn’t allow him much time for analysis as she gives him a long, loving kiss, stroking his shiny head. Again he finds it cool and clammy at first, but he isn’t claustrophobic in any way, and soon adjusts. He stares at himself in the mirror, the black shiny featureless face staring back, how on earth have I ended up like this? But he knows he has moved on, he’s a different man now, his professional life has not changed, but he’s certainly more confident and comfortable in his personal life, and there’s only one person to thank for that.

They make love, more animatedly than all the times before. He’s not stupid, he knows this is Emily, not some potentate’s concubine, or abducted princess, but the mask seems to help him. He relaxes, and yet he can be more assertive. And yes, they manage to prolong their lovemaking. Later, from Emily there’s no smug feeling of I’ve-done-it, she’s just so happy that he’s come so far, so much more at ease, in such a short time. He is developing into a wonderful lover, caring, sharing, and now, much more confident, and competent.

As she lies half-sideways on his chest, one hand through his fly just gently holding him, and the other stroking his smooth shiny black rubber head, she whispers.

“Are you okay with all this Benson? Was it all too weird? If… is this is all too fast, too much, am I being too bossy? Look, I don’t give a damn really, I just want you to, to want to be with me. That’s all.” He takes a while to respond, which begins to worry her.

“It is going fine,” he strokes her rubber-encased head now, “really, I think you know me better than me. Sure it looks all very weird, but it’s just clothes, right? And I don’t know if it’s the mask or not, but it is all certainly getting better.” The rubber encasing his head is warm and comforting now, although he has worked up a sweat in it. “I can’t deny that. In fact,” she feels him begin to harden, “maybe we should give it another try, yes, now we seem to be getting the hang of it.”

After three weeks, and a whole week together, finally, they get it!

For here’s the acknowledgement, not the realisation, for both of them were well aware of it. They know what makes them tick, and there is no need for any more analysis, recrimination, embarrassment. Just like a couple preferring a particular position or foreplay, they now know what makes it work, sub or dom, swapping roles, or not even having any roles, the only aim now is mutual satisfaction. Which is what it always should be anyway. It isn’t a case of intensification, of pushing any boundaries, but exploration and fun and relaxation, and the rest will just follow.

Rubber Equine Escalation

Innocently, well perhaps not that innocently, on the third Saturday, Emily tells Benson that she wants to try out the pony gear that Carol has designed, but this time with the full rubber and leather ensemble.

“Why? I thought we’d done all that, what, three weeks ago? What on earth could we do more?” He asks, not accusingly, but just intrigued.

“Just humour me, okay. I want to get in the full gear, all right? The suit, the mask, everything. Carol, is coming tomorrow and we have a pony session planned out the back, just through the garden across the field and into the trees over there. All that land came with the house. She’ll be in the full gear, and I need to test it all, just to make absolutely sure it all works perfectly. You okay with that?”

Of course, she doesn’t need to test anything, because this has all been well tested by Carol already, on a couple of occasions during the previous three weeks, when Benson was away working, and it had worked perfectly. Carol is getting used to it nicely, except for the barbed tongue depressor, but then it was she that had designed it! But Emily’s sub side now seems to be coming to the fore and requiring attention. Seeing Carol encased in rubber and under her complete control excited her as a dom, but it also intrigued her sub side as well.

What Emily desires is to feel again the emotions she felt when she had ridden Benson’s cock in almost full pony gear those three weeks ago. She could just ask him, and she is fairly sure now he will say yes, but a little subterfuge appeals to her. She now wants to be in all the rubber, and all the leather, and all the pony tack, and most important, she wants to be helpless and under his complete control. If it doesn’t work out the way she thinks well that’s all right too, she will have answered those nagging questions swirling through her mind.

She is still just a little stunned as to how she reacted to him the first time she was in pony gear, and their lovemaking, but now she knows there is inside her, like it or not, a submissive side, and even more important, she has seen in Benson a dominant one. The question is, how deep are those feelings? If she is going to experience that pony girl submission again under the control of Benson - and there will never be anyone else - then why not now?

Benson doesn’t believe her for a minute. He is a cop, an experienced interrogator, used to people lying, big lies, small lies, he has the radar for lying. But now he thinks about it, he is prepared to go along with her, for he too vividly remembers the night she rode him in all, well most, of her pony gear, and then he remembers the sight of her in the full body rubber, in her burgundy rubber “that night”, and the thought of combining the two, immediately interests him. And of course they’ve been experimenting the last few weeks with some rubber and some bondage, nothing too extreme, and he is very comfortable with it now – for him, the self-analysis is over.

So, perhaps against his better judgment (although not really, what could go wrong?) he is prepared to play her game, and just see where it leads.

Well, for one thing, sex he hopes.

So after he agrees, and she sidles up to him and kisses him longingly, he watches her strip rather coquettishly, and he helps her dress in her rubber gear and tack in her bedroom, as before. As she talcs herself, he opens up the back of the light tan rubber catsuit and can see goosebumps of anticipation along her arms. She steps into the leggings and he helps her draw them over her thighs and waist, and he sees her shiver. Is this anticipation or nerves? As he draws the zip up her back, inch by inch, turning her from flesh to shiny tan rubber, he can feel himself starting to go hard already. He has a feeling that this might be special. Almost holding his breath, he zips her up to her high collar.

“Smooth out the wrinkles.” She says softly, knowing what his reaction will be, as he places his hands over her legs, torso, breathing deeply. He was talking to himself, almost silently, yet she can hear him whisper… ohmygod, she’s so beautiful, stay calm, I must be mad doing this. And she silently chuckles, adjusting the holes in the suit to settle opposite her pussy, anal passage, and nipples. She takes a breath and sits on the bed, aware he is staring at her and he now helps zip up her matching tan hoof boots. She sees him looking at her boots but then his eyes move up to her exposed pussy.

“Benson, pay attention, look at me. Now a good pony has to be well shod. I’ve told you already these aren’t as bad as they look, I’ll be able to canter along all right. Now this time the pony’s going to be anonymous, as Carol will be tomorrow, so help me with this.” She tosses him a matching tan rubber mask and now, more than familiar with masks, without demur he places it over her head, maneuvering her pony tail through the hole at the crown, before zipping it down and tucking it under the collar of the suit. She smiles, her brilliant white teeth contrasting with the tan rubber. This is insane, yes, but so much fun now, all his inhibitions are gone now, he wants to make love to her, at that minute, hard - take her now. Behind her mask she can see the expression on his face, and his hard cock trying to escape his pants, but says nothing for a second, then.

“You know the deal with the corset and harness, shouldn’t take you too long this time, come on, big guy.” She laughs, and it doesn’t take him long at all, he remembers where all the straps connect and within ten minutes, she is fully harnessed - corset, neck corset, yoke and straps connecting the two, the head harness and then the bridle. She keeps telling him tighter, tighter and he does so. And then come the mittens. She coyly places her hands behind her back and he pulls them up and attaches them to the collar, allowing her very little slack.

“Okay,” she takes a deep breath, “let’s go out to the patio behind the stables, everything else is there.” As she descends slowly, not able to see her feet or the stair treads, she feels his hands on her waist, holding her, guiding her. How touching, she thinks. On the patio stands a one-seater, two-wheel buggy that she had acquired on the net and has had adapted by her web of contacts. Yes, you can get pretty well anything on the net. It is light, durable, with two arms that she’s had narrowed to fit the waist of a human equine. Benson stares at it, he’s heard about pony races, but had never seen a buggy up close. Despite the whole bizarre procedure, he cannot but help admire the workmanship.

“Pretty cool eh? Got it for a song, and it works perfectly, erm, I’m told; the master, that’s you Benson, sits here, and he gets a wonderful view of his pony, that’s me,” she laughs, “putting her through her paces, her pretty bottom jiggling in front of him.” He can see she is controlled and calm, at least so far, and yet excited at the prospect. He looks up to the sky, dark clouds gathering.

“This is crazy, Emily, it’s going to pour down soon, just monsoon rain, come on, let’s call it off, we can do it another day, maybe.”

“Oh, dear Benson, look at me, you silly man, I’m dressed head to toe in rubber. Not a drop will get through, that’s the whole point, you dope.” She laughs and continues. “And I’ve even thought of you too, your clothes are on the seat. There’s no point in the pony master getting wet, is there?” He gives her a dirty look, knowing his excuse was a poor one in the first place. But knowing she will not let this end here, intrigued, he goes to the buggy, and picks up a pile of rubber clothing. He should have known this. Of course he should. First there is a pair of jodhpurs, tight up to the knees and then loose to the waist, and with a flap fly, form fitting rubber knee-high boots, rubber ankle length socks, and a plain hoodie, with front zip, elasticated waist and wrists, and a draw string hood, and finally a pair of short gloves. It is no surprise to him that they are all made of thin dark green rubber.

“Nothing too kinky for you, you can handle it, Benson, and look, it’s nicely camouflaged for the field and copse over there.”

“The field and copse? No, no, no, I must be crazy, you want me dressed like this leading you across the country over there? No bloody way. Emily, I get caught, we get caught, recognized and that’s my career gone, no way, not a chance. I thought we’d just be wandering around your garden here. I don’t mind that, I suppose. You have a nice high wall, I can lead you around in circles here, no problem. Emily, this is insane, no way, exposed out there, we could come across anyone. Can you imagine if this got out? Rubber ponyplay, it may be okay in your videos and magazines but in reality, if the tabloids…”

“Benson,” she is very calm now, “there’s no one out there, in all the time I’ve been here, I’ve never seen anyone, not one soul. There is no bridleway here, no hikers, nobody, that’s over the other side of that mound. So no public at all, okay, and the farmer over there, I hardly see him, there’s no livestock, and this field really doesn’t support anything. So Benson, it’s just you and me, all right?” She raises her head as best she can with the posture collar restricting her.

“And now it’s going to rain like hell, only idiots, and perverts dressed in rubber would be out today. Now get into that rubber, last time I saw you fully rubber-decked you looked pretty good, really good, so don’t be a girly, and get it on you. Jesus.” She looks exasperated and yet so sexy like that, her arms pulled tight behind her, her breasts pushed out, he wants to make love to her right now, grab her – she can’t do anything to stop him, and thrust her down onto his cock. He also knows he wants to be behind her as she pulls him along, his obedient pony. But god, if he got caught? Then he gets another idea.

“Maybe a mask, you know, to cover my face then… if we got caught, or seen, I could say you were my girlfri… well you are, but at least they wouldn’t see my face. Emily, if I get found out my career is shot. You might be able to get away with it, although it would get the locals chattering, but it wouldn’t kill your career.” He knows he is sounding a little pathetic, very pathetic, and his excuse doesn’t hold much water at all, but if he did get seen, well better to remain as anonymous as much as he could. Yes, she would get all the attention, and tongues would wag, but she would probably survive, and she would gain a little notoriety in the area. He however would be royally buggered. It sounded selfish all right – it’s all about me - but it was the reality of it.

He really isn’t too happy with this at all. But for Emily there seems to be a lot riding on this, no pun, and he can see Emily isn’t going to give up, she just isn’t. She is the one prepared to take the risk. She closes her eyes, shaking her head slightly.

“Benson, Chief Inspector,” she knows this will piss him off, “this is the 21st century, stop being such a prude, no one gives a toss any more, we’re consensual, and you can tell that to anyone we meet, not that we will. We’re playing games, yes, weird games but nothing more. Okay? You want a mask, well masks I have in plenty, go into the stables, top drawer along the wall there will be a matching mask, and bloody hurry up! Let’s get started before the deluge.” He knows she won’t give in, he knows her too well now, and so he grabs the clothes and leaves for the stables.

He steps in rather nervously, placing the clothes on the whipping horse. He looks around, the place is shiny and pristine, mirrors reflecting the steel and rubber and leather. He looks at the steel frame and thinks back all those months. The bad - almost suffocating to death, and the good - well everything to do with Emily. He shivers, takes a breath, the heavy aroma of the rubber tiles and drapes assail his senses. He strips, then talcs his hands and feet and slides them into the socks and gloves, pulling them tight, like a surgeon. Then he pushes his legs into the jodhpurs. They are thin and he takes care not to tear them. They are cold, slippery, and smooth as satin, he shivers as he pulls them over his waist and his hard cock, which he notes hasn’t softened since helping Emily into her suit.

What am I doing, why am I doing it? I must be mad. But he’s well aware that he’s also eager. He pulls the hoodie over his shoulders, pushing his arms through the loose arms of the garment. Again he shivers, his cock sliding up and down the front of his thin rubber jodhpurs. Where does all this come from? Why am I so excited by all this? He isn’t that stupid, this stuff - and Emily of course - does this to him. He pulls on his boots, perfect fit, she must have had this gear all ready and planned for him. He smiles ruefully, yes, she seems to be ahead of him pretty well all the time.

He goes to the drawer and opens it, seeing dozens of masks. He steps back, knowing this is very much her territory. She must have spent thousands, thousands acquiring all this stuff, this is her business and she’s very serious about it. Spreading them out he comes upon a matching green one and pulls it out. He stares down at it, well now or never, and it’s never going to be never, so that means it is now. He separates the back zip and taking a breath dips his head in, drawing it over his head and pulling down the zip.

Okay, not too bad so far, he thinks, and considerably less oppressive than the gasmask with cock gag that he’d experienced the last time. But it is similar to the mask he wore in bed with her a few days ago, the evening they both wore rubber masks, and one when they had the most glorious lovemaking. Perhaps the two were indeed connected. He looks at himself in the mirror, now completely anonymous, masked and hooded. He feels a bit silly, a bit embarrassed - well of course he does, but what surprises him is his erection, he is still rock hard. He’d remembered his erection when he’d dressed her in the pony gear last time, and he’d fucked her, or she had fucked him (it was more than just lovemaking, they were both like beasts) he had to admit to himself it was the best time he’d ever had with her.

She had looked incredible and she was incredible that night. But she isn’t here with him now, so why is he still hard? He still has a lot of questions in his head about who he is and where all this is leading, but for now, all he wants to do is take total control of his beautiful filly! In front of him on the drawer top is a very large box of condoms of varying sizes and thicknesses. On complete impulse, he takes a handful and tucks them into his hoodie pocket. What the hell is coming over him? Well, if it is offered to him, how can he refuse? He is in it to his neck now, but a part of him, a very obvious part, is rather excited at what might transpire.

story to be continued in part 7

o0o