The Detectives And The Dominatrix

Part 8: A Stunning Stallion Under Complete Control

Everything is going very well. She is now sitting in the buggy and looking forward to the firm muscled buttocks jiggling under their rubber skin. The tail, Carol’s stunning blonde/grey hair, swishing, the hoof boots trotting along, not too fast though, nice and easy. The stallion, her lover, is doing well; she has hardly used the reins. They have been going now for perhaps an hour, walking at first, and then a very slow jog. Finely tuned, muscled thighs pump up and down, his head is held high by the collar and harness. He’s done well with the reins and bit, more obedient than she thought he might be.

How on earth did he end up like this? Who would ever believe that here he is, leading his mistress around the walled garden, dressed fully in rubber, hoofed, butt plugged and bitted. He is amazed that he is not surprised or humiliated by what is happening. He feels he should be, but no. Not any more. He knows his mistress, his lover. He is not embarrassed or humiliated, in fact he’s quite comfortable with his situation. My, how far he has come. She has kept him within the confines of her garden and he’s quite comfortable walking, jogging slowly between the rose beds and bushes. The sun is warm, he’s now wet and warm in the super-tight suit. The bit is not painful, it controls him and that is fine, he doesn’t have to deal with the nasty barbs that Emily had experienced and he is feeling fine with it. Knowing what she had gone through impresses him even more.

The hoof boots give him plenty of support, he is surprised at how easy it is to walk in them. And the butt plug? He is rather ashamed to think that it really doesn’t bother him, as he takes each step, each stride, he can feel it move just very slightly, and the tail tickle his buttocks and thighs, but he is not discomfited by it. The only really strange feeling is the ball stretcher and cock cage. They are of solid, quite heavy steel and certainly drag his cock and balls down. But most of all he must concentrate on not getting an erection, that would be very painful. So, amazingly he is adapting to this strange scene quite well, which in the cool light of another day should probably have concerned him.

And Emily?

Well she is truly flabbergasted how he is taking to it, he needs no cajoling, encouraging or reprimanding, just a flick of the reins and he will turn as required. He was certainly grumpy at first, when she backed him into the arms of the buggy. Mock seriously, she showed him her whip, her yes raised. She would never do it, and maybe he knew that, or maybe not. Anyway, once between the arms, he could do nothing. And what a sight he is. Muscled thighs and buttocks, slim corseted waist, arms pulled well up his back, head erect, tail flicking (ha ha, she loves that). As she watches him, she realises that very quickly she has become wet with desire. This of course is not a client, but her lover, her rock, and he is doing this for her pleasure, and perhaps, she hopes, even a little for himself.  After an hour she leads him back to the house, and the patio, then pulls him to a halt and dismounts.

“An hour that is, and you are just about perfect, my gorgeous stallion. And I think you liked it too.”

“Aaaah.” He shakes his head, not too convincingly. She slaps his buttock.

“Oh there’s no point in pretending. Now I am hot, after watching that bum of yours for an hour, hot and wet in more places than one. I’m going for a quick drink of water. I think I have proved my point about you and rubber, which actually was to me at least, pretty clear from quite a while ago. You love all this, and there it is.” She lays her hand on his tail, rolling the hair between her gloved fingers.

“So, I’m willing to call it quits, okay? We can get you out of this and go upstairs and seriously fuck, sorry for the French.” And to her surprise, and even his perhaps, taking no time at all to digest this, her stallion shakes his head.

“No? Hhmm, really? Oh, you want to prove you’re a man, and a wager is a wager, yes? You don’t have to prove anything now, Benson, it’s been a super hour for me, I could have dreamed of nothing better. You’re as sharp and obedient as my two much more experienced male clients. We can stop now…”

Another shake.

“Oh, the old wager is a wager, eh? All that male macho bullshit, come on Benson, grow up. I’m as wet as I can be, let’s get you out of that and have some sex.” Another shake and even a stamp of a hoof. All right, she decides there is some pride at play here, a bet is a bet, I get it, and she is okay with that, no point in pressing it further, so she goes for her drink and returns a few minutes later.

“All right, you want another hour, pay the two-hour debt fully. Okay, but as always it will be on my terms. If you found the last hour a doddle, and it looked as if you did, then let’s add some spice. Be careful what you wish for, Benson.” And in a flash, she closes his blinkers, clipping them together over his nose. Immediately he aaaahhes, shaking his head, stamping one hoof and then the other.

“You wanted another hour, my love and you will get it. Now this is the real test, you must trust me, completely, without any question. I will lead you from the buggy, I will control you, you cannot under any circumstances question my control, do you understand?. We will be a team, but any doubt on your side will not be tolerated, okay? Just trust me, Benson.” He has calmed now, she has caressed his buttocks, his waist and thighs and just her doing this makes him feel better, except for his cock beginning to harden in its steel prison. She resumes her position in the buggy and with a flick of the reins they are off. She has no intention of getting him trotting, this is to be a walk only, but she has devised a winding course, not an obstacle course, but with enough paths and narrow trails and definitely no rocks, he will have to be alert to her commands, even when walking.

The hour passes as if it is ten minutes.

He is obedient, alert to every tiny pull on the reins - never anticipating her, never slowing down or speeding up, keeping up a steady smooth pace, and never getting over confident. It short, he has in the space of just two hours, become a perfect pony. In fact, better than her male clients, and not far short of Carol, who is quite simply the perfect pony. She thinks he will be mad with her, for pulling this stunt on him, she had not intended to at first, but he is, after the initial shock, everything a pony should be. She is tempted to increase the pace, but no, she wants him comfortable and proud (rightly so) of his first time under bit and bridle, for she hopes there will maybe be many more. And oh yes, she intends to give him a reward for his hard work. Finally she leads him back to the patio, releases him from the buggy and rolls it to the store. He is breathing easily, he has not expended a lot of energy, but he’s soaking in his tight suit. When she returns, he hasn’t moved, standing erect, saliva dripping from his open mouth, but he is calm, even at ease, she can see that, and is so proud of him.

“Well, what can I say? That was so much fun for me, and I hope for you, at least not too uncomfortable. Benson, I am so proud of you, you looked, and behaved, perfectly.”

She waits on his response, for this is important to her, and is more than pleased when he raises his shoulders and cocks his head, as if to say, yes, it was all right. This is more than she can hope for. She laughs and slaps the firm buttocks, pinches them, takes the pony tail and twists it, just a little, then strokes his thighs.

“Oh, Benson, you beauty.” She runs her hands around his rubber covered corseted waist, he doesn’t need the corset as his stomach is flat and well muscled anyway, but it does pull him in nicely. The neck corset however keeps his head good and upright. Now she comes around and faces her lover, rubber masked and suited, blinkered, bitted and bridled, and then she opens his blinkers, smiling proudly, for that is what she is. She strokes the rubber head, the tight harness allows very little movement of the bit.

Saliva continues to run down the bit and onto his contoured chest, criss-crossed above his nipples with straps and buckles. She flicks the bell suspended under his raised chin. She strokes the mask again, the bridle and bit, smiling coolly, loving the power she has, but so proud of him, her lover, her rock. She then takes the heavy steel chastity cock cage in her hand, fondling it.

Benson aaaaaaahhhes.

The steel tube stretching his balls must render them really tender, but she is more interested in the long, curved steel cage that imprisons his cock. It begins to harden but it can’t escape, the flesh begins to enlarge and push out between the steel rings, he is not happy, this must hurt, but she knows exactly how to excite him. She knows she is really is being very cruel. He grunts and aaahhes, and stamps as she strokes him though the steel encasement.

“Oh, you are in a pickle aren’t you, Benson, my beautiful stallion, although this isn’t going to be much use to you right now.” She grips his steel caged cock. He is now in real discomfort, hopping on his hoof boots, and their eyes lock.

“Well, it’s all your fault, you lost the bet, and what a bet, that you wouldn’t get hard if I dressed you in a rubber suit, oh come on. I know you well enough now, my lover. You know, Benson I think you did it on purpose, I really do, you sly devil.” She grins. “We both know now that you have a liking for rubber, it took a while I know. And the suit, well the suit fits you just perfectly. It looks like its been painted on, like black lacquer, I am getting wet just looking at you, never mind caressing you. But you didn’t expect the cock cage, did you? That was quite cruel of me, I admit. Can you imagine wearing that for a few days? Gosh, I would love the feeling of knowing you are at work wearing this, still under my control, miles away, and no one knowing. Oh, I get hot at the thought alone. But that’s down the road.” She raises her eyebrows, as if challenging him. “How’s the butt plug, nice and snug? Well, you should be used to them by now, after, well, that night. I think next time we’ll move up a size, hhmm?” He shakes his head slightly from side to side, no, he is not so sure he would like that.

“I’m kidding Benson, lighten up.” He loves her of course, she knows that, otherwise why would he allow her to torture and tease him like this? He looks wonderful, fit, muscled, toned…and completely within her power. She is now definitely wet, just looking at him.

“Benson, we have a great thing going here, as least I think so.” Now she next to him, her arms around him, and she’s serious. “Now listen, I won’t jeopardise that, ever. We said at the start, we wouldn’t mix my business and our pleasure. And I agreed with that, I was more than happy to. Well, we can see we have moved on from there, further than both of us could have ever imagined, but understand this,” she is now almost glued to him, her lips touching his bit, “you call the shots, however far you want to go, or stop, or never do any of this again, I’m with you, do you understand that?” he thinks he might actually see a glistening in her eyes. “You mean more to me than these games we play, adult games for sure, although we do have a lot of fun, don’t we?” She steps back, smiling. “And now for another one of those adult games, I think we both deserve it.”

The Stallion Covers His Filly

She leads him back to the stables, then turns and releases him from the chastity device. “Aaaaah.” He gasps in relief. She leaves the steel tube squeezing his balls on for the moment, and he hardly seems to notice as he groans in relief, and then immediately starts to harden, his cock rising as if on some invisible pulley. She expertly slips a condom on him, laughing.

“For god’s sake, try and hold it will you? Stay calm now.” She raises her short skirt and lifts herself on the rear of the whipping horse, sitting right on the end. He is not surprised at all to see she does indeed wear stockings and suspenders, and her wonderful white rubber panties with the red-edged heart-shaped openings. And he is very happy to see she is dripping wet. She is at the perfect height as he moves forward on his hoofs. He isn’t able to see his cock due to the neck corset, but she takes it gently in her gloved hand and with no preamble guides it into her, aaahhhh, he gasps. This is where he wants to be for as long as he can. He holds it there, not thrusting at all, just looking at her as she smiles, places her arms on his shoulders, closes her eyes, panting with pleasure.

And then he sets up a comfortable smooth rhythm. He is completely unperturbed by the fact that his hands are pulled behind his back almost to his neck, or his arse is stuffed with a butt plug, or his mouth is held wide by the bit, and least of all by the rubber suit and mask. He can’t hold her but is able to thrust his hips and get some effective penetration. All he has to do is look at the woman he happily admits he loves. He increases the pace, and his depth of thrust, eliciting a hearty groan from Emily. He spreads his hoofed feet further to gain greater purchase, and pumps harder, he bites down on the rubber covered steel in his mouth, he is at a wonderful calm now.

Then after maybe ten or twelve minutes – Benson is feeling wonderfully in control - Emily undertakes a manoeuvre that would have done credit to a ballerina of gymnast, by raising her right leg to the vertical and then back, almost to her breasts and whispers.

“Just stop for a…oooh, second, but stay in.” And then she turns, wriggles over, until she is on her front. She spreads her legs now, gripped the whipping horse and gasps.

“Okay, my beautiful stallion, remember this? Now here is your helpless filly, ha ha, mount her, cover her, fill her…aaaahhh.” And Benson well remembers their time in the copse and takes up a more vigorous pace, his thighs slapping hers. What is it about having her, prostrate in front of him, he is in stringent bondage and yet, well, he is the one in charge. For another ten minutes, he even surprises himself, he continues to impale her, moving to one side and then the other, changing the angle, rubbing his cock along her insides, and then back for a deep penetration. She has come at least three or four times before he succumbs, he can feel himself gushing into the thin rubber. After he has finished, saliva dripping down his chest, he withdraws. She stands and pulls off his condom, then with a saucy smile, licks him clean. Then she removes his bit allowing him no time to say a word before planting a long, long kiss on his lips.

“Thank you, for everything, being a wonderful stallion, going along, agreeing to do this. And then the sex, phew. If for one second you have regretted…”

“No, no, not for a sec…”

And she kisses him again. She releases his arms, with a low groan from him, then bends him over and very gently removes the butt plug accompanied by a long groan from Benson. She is in no hurry to undress either him or herself. They hug and caress, as lovers do, she can see that he is now completely at ease with the rubber suit and mask, even the hoof boots. They are both very wet and sticky, so eventually they help each other undress, in no haste, dropping the clothes on the floor and then have a very long hot shower together.

Cleaning Up

Benson says virtually nothing during all this time, she isn’t really concerned but would have liked to share his feelings. She leaves the shower first, and when he exits he sees she has placed his rubber boxer shorts by the tub. He is quite happy with that and when they’re dry pulls them on. As he enters the stables, he is not surprised to see her in the rubber sports bra and panty girdle, with it’s ventilation holes back and front. She is kneeling on the floor, a large soapy bucket next to her as she is wiping down his suit. She looks up and smiles.

“Hey.”

“Want me to help?”

“Sure, if you wouldn’t mind. The insides are washed and wiped down, then talced, and then we shine up the outsides.” He kneels next to her, and leans over to kiss her.

“I haven’t said much, I know, my mind has been in a bit of a whirl. Don’t panic, Emily, I loved it, all of it, I can’t believe how much I have changed since I met you. I’m doing all right, I’m eliminating all the guilt, all the silly embarrassment, the self consciousness. I’m just enjoying it all, am I a hedonist? You have changed me Emily, for good, forever.” She wipes down his suit in silence, tosses him the bra and panties she’d been wearing. He can see her juices as he begins cleaning them.

“I can’t take all that credit, or blame, Benson. You are who you are, like all of us, sometimes it just takes a catalyst to expose a hidden layer, I have to say,” she leans over again and kisses him, “I am absolutely…” she searches for a word, “bloody ecstatic that I may have had something to do with it.” They carry on cleaning for a while, hanging the drying rubber over the whipping horse, then evenly powdering them. They are quite content in their silence, until Emily laughs to herself.

“What?”

“Well I have to laugh. I don’t do this very often, but with you here, it’s quite fun, relaxing after all our exertions, do you mind it, we can stop.”

“No, I’m fine, you really do look after your stuff, I suppose it can be, well the weirder stuff, can be expensive.”

“Weirder stuff? Ha ha, careful Benson, none of it is weird if no one is offended and the parties are consenting, remember our mantra?”

“Sorry, duly reprimanded. And anyway, who am I to make judgment now.”

“Exactly, no guilt, just fun. You are really getting it now. No, I was laughing because I very rarely do this, the clean up. Many of my clients, if they are not pushed for time will clean their own, it’s the sign of a respectful client, or slave if you like. Respect for the mistress, and respect for the clothes and equipment. Makes common sense and makes good manners. But some are on a tight schedule, or we might run a little late, and that’s when I get my maid to do it. If he’s not coming in in the next couple of days, I don’t want the used rubber sitting around for long, often it has to be used again fairly swiftly depending on the clothing, and he loves to come, even at short notice, so it works out well. You haven’t seen him as he has come when you haven’t been here.” Benson has stopped powdering her panties, now stares at her.

Maid For Emily

“So, erm, you have a maid come in, and you said he?” She laughs at his expression, perhaps he is even a little bit jealous.

“Jealous Benson? There’s no need to panic.” She laughs, patting his thigh. “Okay, oh dear, now I will have to give you the whole story. Oh, you poor plum, haven’t I made it clear enough you are the only man for me? Okay, my maid is gay. Feel better now? So that takes him out of the romance picture.” She is toying with him again, and he is slightly embarrassed that for even a second he had doubted her.

“But the important thing from my perspective is that he is a transvestite. Now as you are becoming an expert on all things sexual,” she pats his shoulder in jest, “not all gays are transvestites, and not all transvestites are… well you get the picture. Anyway, he saw my website and contacted me through it. He didn’t want to be disciplined, thrashed, hung up, tormented, any of that, he wanted to know if I needed a maid.” They have now finished the powdering of the all rubber clothing, have turned them inside out and are starting on giving them a perfect shine. After all the exertions of the day, Benson finds he quite likes this calming exercise.

“And I thought about this, and thought well why not, I can get the place squeaky clean for free, up until then if the client hadn’t time, I had done it.” She places her hand around Benson.

“He’s a gem, Benson. I’ve had him two years, he loves coming here, he can come at a moment’s notice, he has some IT company, he’s young, younger than me and sharp as a tack. He’s extremely confident in his sexuality, no diffidence or guilt or anything like that. He’s gay and happy to be so, he likes men, and he loves dressing up as a woman. He does this around town when he feels the confidence. He’s very good-looking and passes for a girl very easily. And of course the most important thing is he loves the rubber. So, a perfect fit for me.” They finish the shining of the rubber and replace it all back in the shelves and closet. They now move to the kitchen, a rather strange scene considering he is dressed in his rubber boxers and she in her bra and panty girdle. She pulls a bottle of white from the fridge.

“He is not particularly tall, very slim, not hirsute at all either, gentle features, and a perfect fit for disguising himself as a woman. After our first meeting, I wanted to see how serious he was, so gave him the tub of depilatory cream and said I wanted his cock and balls hairless permanently if he was going to work for me. He didn’t bat an eye, and within two or three months he was lovely and bald down there. He doesn’t need to shave much anyway, but he always keeps himself clean shaven.” They move to the patio, her favourite place in the sun.

“He arrives and goes to change into his rubber maid’s outfit. It’s his and his alone, custom made for him. He has a brilliant foundation garment, a thick rubber corselette, from hips up to a pair of very fine silicon breasts. He has several of these at his home and a couple here. It has a very firm, contoured waist and suspenders for his stockings. The rest is easy. Are you okay with all this Benson? You shouldn’t be too surprised by now.”

“No, I’m not surprised at all, just impressed really, you seem to have everything figured, everything.” She stands up and comes behind him, resting his head between her breasts, leans down and raises his face to hers, kissing him.

“No, not everything, not until you came along, that is.” She holds him like that, stroking his short hair.

“So the costume is the classic French maid, a stereotype I know. But it works, ha ha. Skimpy black dress, flared to mid-thigh giving us a glimpse of frilly panties and stockings tops when he bends over, a brilliant white pinafore, short ruffled white sleeves over black gloves to shoulders, tight waist, pushed out boobs, and a high white collar, oh and nice high heels, he’s very good in his heels, almost as good as you in your hoof boots.” She kisses his head, then returns to her seat, still holding his hand.

“He does his own makeup, he’s extremely good at it, not too much, not slutty at all. And he has a few wigs, the one he uses here is a perky pageboy, jet black, and a nice bonnet on top.” She spreads her arms.

“Voila, the perfect French maid. He tucks his cock and balls under the tight frilly white panties, but just leaves a small mound, giving a slightest hint of cock, ha ha. A year ago, I wanted to test his… loyalty again, I said I wanted to mark him permanently, to remind him I was his mistress. He didn’t bat an eye, he is so sweet. So I designed a ball sac ring for him - like the one you still have on, my sweetheart, and I’m so impressed you have not reminded me of it, don’t worry I’ll have it off you soon. But the maid’s is different, the tube is about an inch deep and three quarters in diameter, solid smooth steel, and once you spread it - hard to do - then squeeze the male head into the female opening, and if you apply a drop of super glue,” she smiles, “then it’s on for good, you’d need power cutters or lasers to remove it.”

Benson looks a little shocked.

“I had it engraved, ‘Mistress Emily’s Rubber Maid’, lots of letters but I got them all on, ha ha. And he’s a sweetie, he wears it with pride, a perfect maid. He really looks super in his maid’s attire, he would fool anyone, his tight frame, nicely shaped and his androgynous face perfectly made up, any straight man would go for him. He doesn’t care what others think, he’s been through border customs even, he just tells them what it is, he’s so confident in himself. And he looks so good with it on, pulling down his ball sac, making his balls tight and almost translucent, and quite tender of course. I would love to have yours stretched like that, my sweet, but it’s you that’ll make that decision.”

She giggles and then she continues.

“He cleans and polishes, as necessary, all the rubber, wipes down all the equipment, cleans the floor and even the rubber curtains. He loves sashaying around in his own domain for an hour or two. It’s hard for me to fault him, but I like to, I feel I have to, and then the fun bit when I have to discipline him. I usually do it at the start of the next session after his misdemeanour. I started with bending him over and pulling down his panties and easing a butt plug into him, but realised he liked that too much, wriggling with lust as I impaled him, ha ha, no punishment at all, then gave him a paddling, and I could see he quite liked that too. So instead of punishment I thought about denial, that was it. So I really tested him here.” She has now pushed back his chair and slowly straddles him. She has her ventilation panty girdle on, so he isn’t going to get to fuck her, but she is pretty tender from his earlier extended attentions. But it doesn’t stop him from starting to harden, which pleases her as she not too subtly thrusts her rubber encased breasts and exposed nipples at him. Then she nonchalantly continues her story, stroking his hair.

“He goes for his sins of the flesh to a rather cool rubber club for gay men in the city here. I think he’s pretty popular, no surprise as he is very attractive,” she kisses him on the mouth, raising his face from her swelling nipples, “not as much as you, of course. So I thought, hhmm denial, now that’s a punishment. So one day I pretended to be displeased with him and before he left, I locked him in a steel chastity device, and locked that to his ball sac tube. Very efficient as you know, ha ha. Now he could suck and be fucked, but he had to miss the pleasures of getting sucked, and doing the fucking, sorry for the French there. He told me he went to the club, and actually got a lot of approving comments, ha ha, maybe I’ll get some new clients out of it. And he stayed like that for five days I think, until I called him in again.”

She allows him to dip his head to her nipples again. She grinds her crotch, wet behind the ventilation holes over his hard cock, trapped in his rubber shorts. Yes, she thought, he’s coming along very nicely, oh I am really quite daft over him.

“The poor sweetie hated it, I think, but he still came back, dutifully obedient. So there you are, the story of my maid. Okay?” She raises his face to hers, he smiles and nodded silently, he is just fine with it, he is just fine with everything.

Modern Family

Right out of the blue, a week later, Benson says he’d like to take Emily to see his parents. Emily is stunned, it’s one of those things where you forget that he, or anyone, has parents. Emily laughs it off at first.

“Oh, oh is this the approval meeting and then you get down on your knees and propose?” He stares at her, completely deadpan.

“Hmm, maybe, but we’ll see if you pass the test first.”

“Very funny Benson, ha bloody ha. Look I’m not sure I am up to meeting them just yet, I don’t know them, well duh, obviously. How much do they know about me?” She’s really hesitant, and Benson in surprised.

“Oh they know the whole dominatrix thing, absolutely super impressed by it all, my dad may come along sometime for a session with you. Make a change from mum beating him.” Deadpan again.

“Will you stop it for goodness sake. Just be serious for five minutes, okay? Why, why is this necessary? We’re doing fine, aren’t we?” She is very defensive now.

“Better than fine, I think, erm, well I just want to show you off.” He raised his shoulders as if that’s all. “Why shouldn’t I? You’re beautiful, brilliant, witty… do I have to go one… oh, yes and very dirty.” He really is enjoying himself now that she is uncomfortable.

“They won’t bite, they’re lovely people, but then they are my parents. I’ve told them you are a consultant, psychiatrist, helping people with emotional issues… whatever, you know. Anyway I take very few friends to see them, so you are bloody well privileged. They’ll love you Emily, as long as you don’t wear the head to toe rubber suit and mask and the stilettos, or the dominatrix outfit.” He has a sly grin on his face. “Although they are pretty broad-minded.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Course you do, say no and we won’t go.”

“But you’d be disappointed?”

“Yes.” Nothing more need be said.

“Okay, when?” It had been a false, silly resistance, in fact despite her weak protestations, she’s rather interested in seeing his parents. She might be nervous about it, screwing it up, but she hopes she can carry it off. Being a dominatrix is hard, lots of role playing, getting into the zone, meeting the in-laws (did I say that?) might be even harder, depending on how everyone gets on.

“Next Sunday, for lunch and a natter after, all very cool and casual.”

“For you maybe.” She stands over him, slides her hand between his fly, and grips his hardening cock. “I will be nervous as hell, not wanting to mess it up,” she hardens her grip, pulling him to his feet, “now I need something to relax me.”

Sunday comes, and surprise, she is nervous. This man means a lot, well everything to her right now, and she really doesn’t want it screwed up. She’s like a 17-year-old, not the confident dom at all. Why should she care what his parents think of her? Because she does, because they’re his parents and he loves them, or at least appears to. So… yes, it is a big deal. As for Benson, he can see she is anxious, he can’t understand why, well he can but they won’t tear her apart, and he’s very touched that it means so much to her.

It’s going to be quite warm and he’s in shorts, sandals and a t-shirt, very casual indeed. But for Emily, she’ll be on display, and so she takes care in how she presents herself. She decides on the ‘50’s California look. Hair pulled back in a pony tail, flat heels, a flowing skirt that fans to mid-calf and a long-sleeved blouse, with buttons to just above her breasts and then an open collar. She looks like something out of a ‘50’s teen movie.

In the car they say nothing, Benson is quietly amused, for he knows his parents will love her, or is pretty sure about it. They turn into a secluded driveway and continue for a couple of hundred yards, and there’s the house. Old, very old, perhaps Elizabethan -vertical half timbers, nogging, casement windows - and large too, stunning. Oh god, she thinks, they’re really loaded, why didn’t he say so? He glances across at her as he parks outside, a sly grin on his face. She looks back with a look of we’ll-sort-this-out-later.

Before they close the car doors, the front door, covered by a huge porch, opens, and there are, presumably his parents. But Emily barely notices his father – tall, handsome, longish grey/blonde hair, dressed very casually – she simply stares at Benson’s mother, for she is…

“Kate, I’m Kate, this is James, hello Emily, I’m so pleased to meet you at last, Sam has been keeping you to himself for far too long.” She steps back and admires Emily, and there’s a look of something in her expression.

Emily stutters a hello as she is hugged by this – oh, she hates the word – icon, of stage and screen. It’s Kate…god, Benson is the son of Dame Kate… I can’t believe this. I’ve watched her for twenty years on screen, TV and seen her live on stage. Emily is shepherded into the house, quite dark until they make the living room, much brighter. Emily looks daggers at Benson, she will have him in the stables after this, oh yes, the bastard.

Kate is stunning, isn’t that what they say, the real stunners are better in the flesh than even on the screen. She must be 50’ish, but not line on her face, except laughter lines for although she’s in this cloud, Emily can hear her laughing heartily. Tall, still blonde shifting to white, a figure a 30-year -old would kill for and face that has been on every magazine cover, it seems. She’s in brilliant white loose baggy pants and a t-shirt.

Handing Emily a glass of something bubbly, Kate says.

“You look a bit shocked you poor thing. Ha ha, I get this a lot, people think I’m made of, I don’t know, marble or porcelain, but I bleed like everyone else, look,” she shows Emily her hands, perfect except for several scratches and punctures, “my bloody rose, I love them but sometimes I want to dig the whole lot up and pave it over.” No one believes her for a second. Emily glances around, it’s beautiful, and surprisingly no stage or screen photos or mementos. Except one; holding the door open into the dining room far beyond, Emily sees a golden statuette in the shape of… so there it is, she chuckles to herself.

“Sam, the least you could have done is warn her who your mum is, I know you wanted to see her face, but sometimes you can be a shit, you know.”

“Sorry mum.” But he doesn’t mean it.

The morning moves to lunchtime, effortlessly. Kate is not a drama queen, today, she’s a mum and a cook. There is no maid or cook or helper to be seen anywhere. She keeps the conversation moving on, she doesn’t overpower it, allowing Emily to talk freely, and she seems genuinely interested in her. Emily is relaxed in minutes, forgetting this famous persona, just enjoying stories, of not the theatre and screen – she is discreet like her son – but stories of Sam growing up. This Emily loves, because Benson is quite embarrassed about it. She thinks Kate has done this as a bit of a punishment on him, for not disclosing who is mother is, and immediately Emily is touched by this.

James is happy to play second fiddle, he’s quiet, erudite, slyly funny and, as Emily keeps sneaking a look at him, still very much in love with Kate. It’s not opposites attracting at all, for Kate is clearly well read, and quick and Emily has to stay on her toes. The food is unelaborate, but tastes wonderful, and Emily, who knows wine, can see (and taste) so do James and Kate. Benson is driving and so she is free to taste.

The minutes whip by, one hour, two hours, three. Emily is completely at ease with this family. There is a younger sister, Polly, a doctor now, working hard and so can’t make it. Kate tells several stories of Sam, two years older, being her constant protector when they were younger, this doesn’t surprise her at all. They ask, not nosily, about her profession and she tells her well-rehearsed story, a consultant, a psychologist, a therapist, she helps people with emotional problems… some of which (she laughs to herself) can be of a sexual nature. This raises no eyebrows, and she thinks she sees a smirk on Benson’s face, and so kicks him hard under the table.

The men offer to clean the table and do all the kitchen work, which will take some time, but allows Kate to take Emily by the arm and lead her out into the spectacular rear garden, somehow Emily thinks this was planned by Kate. They sit at a long table, facing the colourful expanse, Emily takes a breath, it’s stunning.

“I’ve been very lucky, I know that. Yes, I have some talent, but it’s all down to luck in the end. The right role at the right time,” she smiles, “the right man at the right time, and two children who I can’t be prouder of. I have to pinch my self sometime. But I’d give all this up, the awards, ha ha, they mean nothing, the money, it’s all trimmings, just to have what I have, a happy family.”

Kate then waits a second, looks to the house, here’s the men laughing in the kitchen, before starting.

“I want to thank you,” she pauses, “for saving my son’s life.” Emily stares back, not so comfortable.

“I’m not sure what you…” Kate places a hand on Emily’s arm.

“Then let me tell you a story, don’t interrupt me and it will make perfect sense, all right? Don’t look so worried Emily, I’ll explain.” She sits back. “Like any mother I love my son, warts and all – although there are very few warts with Sam, you’ve heard about bonds of mothers and sons? I love Polly too, but there’s something different about a mother and son, anyway I’m drifting. James wanted him to be a lawyer, Sam was very bright – didn’t get it from me,” she laughed, but Emily very much doubted that, “he got a first at university, could have done anything he wanted, yes, being an Oscar winner does open doors if needed, and having James high in the academic world could help too. But he went straight into the police, their fast-track programme for the clever clogs.” She chuckled.

“That didn’t mean that he didn’t see the mean streets, he did. Anyway that’s in the past, the point is my dear, like any proud mother I follow my son’s career, and he does get himself into the papers now and again,” she looked across at Emily, “and so we get to you.”

“I’m not sure I…”

“Emily, please, I may be a ditzy actress,” which she isn’t, Emily knows, “but hear me out please. You see… I know who you are… now don’t go all nervous on me, I’m on your side here, if there are sides. I have a very good memory – if you’re doing a two or three hour play, you better have – I did Juliet at twenty remember – and the second you walked into the house I recognized you. You have a face not easily forgotten, you are very beautiful. It’s a face I saw in the paper what, seven, eight months ago? Even the quality papers like a salacious story to pep up the circulation now and again, and of course this one involved my son.”

She took a sip of wine, all Emily could hear now was the birdsong.

“I’m not a mother who keeps a scrapbook of all his clippings, no, but I do follow his cases and ask him about them,” she held her arm up, palm out, “and nearly always he tells me nothing, I hope you know Sam by now, his behaviour is beyond reproach, he is discreet and never a tattletale. I saw your picture in the paper, I don’t read the tabloids, I can’t imagine how they dealt with it, and I felt very sorry for you. But I was very proud of my boy, he seemed to be painted a bit of a hero.”

“And he was, he…” Kate held up a finger with an understanding smile on her face.

“Thank you for saying that, Emily… but it’s not true, is it?” She raised her eyebrows. “A month after the sentencing hearing, maybe more, he came for dinner. I noticed something was on his mind, but said nothing, Sam will pick his time. James went off to his study, and we settled by the fire. He said he had a confession – ha ha, that’s the term he used – oh, I thought, this could be interesting. Anyway, I’ll speed up, I can see you’re still not very comfortable right now, and you have no need to be, on the contrary.” She placed her hand on Emily’s arm again.

“He said they got it all wrong, he wasn’t the hero, he didn’t save your, or Ruby’s life – Ruby is a lovely girl, a real spitfire, I know Sam misses her – the hero, or heroine was you, Emily.” She waits a second. “He didn’t go into any details, no lurid stuff, you’ll be happy to hear. No one knows, he said to me, except the mad murderer, his super, the judge, the CPS lawyer, Ruby, and yes, you of course.” She sat back.

“Sam doesn’t lie, Emily. The story they cooked up was convenient, it hushed up a part of the real one, and I don’t know the whole of it, and he certainly won’t tell me, but he at least wanted to tell me as much as he thought I should know. And that is why I want to thank you. I must have looked a bit shocked when we met earlier, but I’m a good actress, although I say it myself, and when you are on stage, you learn to adlib quickly.”

Well, Emily thought, what do I tell her? Would the truth, the real truth make her feel better. Benson hadn’t lied to his mother, not at all, just told the convenient part of the story, actually making Emily the heroine, but as they say, it was a group effort. Emily decided to tell another version.

“Kate,” she still wasn’t sure about calling her this, it seemed overly familiar, as if she had earned it, “Benson, erm Sam, has told you the truth… but only part of it.” Now Emily proceeds to tell the whole truth, as it happened, she leaves out of it Sam stretched out in a rubber suit, arse plugged, about to asphyxiate, Emily sucking his delicious cock; Ruby in the inflatable bag, gagged and powerless; Emily in skin tight burgundy rubber, about to be hanged. These are all the good bits but Emily gives the bare bones. She would have died that night if at that precise moment Benson and Ruby hadn’t turned up. Yes, she managed to turn the tables after Mrs. Kemp had tricked them, and Emily managed to overpower her, but had they not been there…

“That’s the truth, Sam is right, I overpowered her, I was lucky… but if he…”

“I don’t believe for a minute…”

“What? My story?”

“Oh no, what I mean is I don’t believe for a minute you were lucky, you are a very resourceful young woman, Emily, I can see that, and he may have turned up earlier at a very fortuitous time, but you still saved his life,” she gripped her forearm, “thank you for the explanation, it wasn’t needed, and I can see why he feels that he put you in harm’s way. He’ll be wracked with that, he has always been a perfectionist.” There is a lull in the conversation, then Emily continues.

“I must ask a favour too. I don’t want you telling him that you and I had this…”

“Oh, good grief my dear, I keep a secret, he will never learn of it, just as James has never heard anything from me about my conversation with Sam. In the vault, Emily.” She drew a zip across her lips.   

“But I have another confession, I’m afraid, I followed up on the story, mild curiosity and, shamefully I admit, I looked you up, found your webpage.”

“Oh god, I thought you might… I hoped there might have been a way I could have got away…”

“Oh don’t worry yourself. Now hear me out. Your site is discreet, most of the shots of you are side on, and my goodness you do look wonderful in those latex outfits, gosh every man will salivate at seeing you, and plenty of women too,” she laughed loudly, “not too many pictures, but enough to whet the appetite. Your erm, services are specific without being lurid, your erm, premises impressive, and your equipment incredible. I have a very broad imagination and some of the pieces had me a bit flummoxed for a few seconds, but I got the idea. You must have spent thousands on it all.” She leans over till their faces are almost touching. “Now let’s get this clear.” Emily held her breath.

“I admire you Emily, I really do.”

Emily blinked three or four times.

“This is a man’s world still, the glass ceiling and all that, I am lucky, although now the film and TV roles are fewer, so it’s the stage, which is for me the ultimate challenge anyway, I love my job, it’s a hard grind, eight performances a week, Sunday off, but I love it. And you? You are empowered, literally, you call the shots, you pick your clients, you work when you want to, with whom you want to and charge what you want to. I am impressed with that. You are, I am sure, very good at what you do, I don’t have to know what that is, I have a very good idea, I don’t live in a cocoon and for god’s sake this is the 21st century. So you make a very good living, you are independent, as I could be if I didn’t have my wonderful James to spread the load. The papers gave up on you fairly quickly, there’s always another lurid one coming down the line, but they stated you had to move, and I’m sorry for that. Sam tells me you have a lovely place in the country now, and I hope you have adjusted to it.”

“Hmm, I like it there now, I really do, and yes, my clients have stayed with me.”

“Then they value you, there’s nothing wrong that you do, you make men, and women perhaps…’

“Oh yes, I have female clients.”

“Good, and they leave you happy, content, relaxed, what’s wrong with that? Nothing. It’s perfect therapy. By the way I had to chuckle when you and Sam described your profession, and James, well, quite rightly he doesn’t waste his time with all the rubbish in the paper. All he cares about are his children being happy, like his son, he doesn’t judge. Emily, you are beautiful, intelligent, tough certainly, what more could a mother wish for in her son’s girlfriend?”

She feels a little more at ease, this had all gone so quickly though.

“But don’t you, aren’t you concerned that I may… I mean my profession…”

“Abduct him and take him to your dungeon? Corrupt him? Beat his bottom, well I did that a couple of times when he was being a little shit, oh god, I suppose I can’t say that now.” Kate actually howls with laughter. “If he wants to be corrupted, then he will be, he’ll do nothing that he doesn’t want to do, either for himself, or more important his lover.” Emily shudders at that word, for that is what she is. Kate sits back, quite satisfied with her explanation of her son, one which Emily knows from experience to be exact in every way. He would do it for himself, but more important for her.

“I’ll tell you this, I haven’t seen him more relaxed, happier in the last couple of months than ever before, so I have to thank you for that too.” She looks pensive for a second. “Oh, I do hope it lasts, the higher the intensity of the relationship, the harder the fall. I hope you won’t hurt him, Emily, I know you’re adults and it’s none of my damn business, but he’s still my boy, mothers never get over that, well I don’t anyway.”

“I love him, Kate, I do. I haven’t known him long of course, but our time together is quite, erm intense. He’s a rock, wise, funny, shy still, but he’s getting used to me and my bossy ways, but I can’t push him around, which I have to say is my normal mode. I’m glad, very glad you think I’ve been good for him, because he certainly has for me. He brings me back to reality when I’m on a real high, perhaps after a satisfying session with a client, excuse me for going on about this, and perks me up if I’m down. What more can I say? When I first met him, I thought he was judgmental, a bit cynical – but then I found that’s his role, his job is to question everything. We don’t see each other every day, he’s happy with his place in town and it makes sense, but I miss every minute he’s not there.” Then she laughs, “and then I get fed up with him after a couple of days. He doesn’t care what I do for a living, no that’s not right, he cares that I love doing it, and he’s proud that I’m very good at it. The fact that I have men, and women, under my control doesn’t faze him at all. I don’t have sex with my clients, I may take them to places they thought they would never or could ever go. They are rarely naked, but usually dressed in rubber for role play and it can get intense, but there’s not an ounce of jealousy or judgment in him. If I’m happy, he’s happy. Oh god, I’ve probably said too much.” She’s getting hot and it’s not just the warm sun. Before dressing in her ‘50’s costume, to calm her nerves she slipped into her white rubber bra and panties, the ones with the ventilation holes front and back. Now she’s awash in them.

“Not at all, absolutely, in fact I’m fascinated by your profession, the whole role-playing element, for I know that you must live the role, be absolutely convincing, otherwise, well it doesn’t work, does it?”

“No, you’re right but this is strange in a way. I’m sure when you’re on stage sometimes you forget that it’s a role, forget the audience, you are just… there. Well for me it’s the same. They call it role play, and that’s fine, but it’s not play acting, does that make sense?”

“Perfectly, perfectly. So we’re both actors. Just you with no audience, me in the public eye and you very much private.”

They are interrupted by Benson and his father.

“Could you possibly suffer another hour without us, my dearest, as you know I am thinking about buying this car and I wanted Sam to have a look at it for me, he knows all that stuff. I apologise Emily, horrible manners, but I hope, I know, I will see you again and this car may be gone by then, it is a beauty. And you two seem to be getting on like a house on fire, what can you possibly be talking about?” He teases.

“Oh, just girl talk James, off you go.” Benson looks a bit apologetic, but Emily has a feeling he would be happy to check the car out, although perhaps a bit nervous about what they might be discussing. When they’d gone, Kate turns to Emily.

“You are looking quite hot there, Emily. What would you say to a dip to cool off?” She doesn’t wait for an answer but take her hand. Around the side of the house behind an ancient wall is a pool, a large beautiful turquoise pool, with a cabana the other side.

“This was bought with a portion, a portion, of a fee for a film I did 10 years ago now. It was two weeks work, ridiculous, I would have to work six or nine months in the theatre for this, so I don’t knock it, the world isn’t fair and there it is. Go to the cabana and you’ll find some swimsuits to fit you. I’ll be over in a couple of minutes.” 

Emily looks around the cabana, showers, toilets, lockers and several swimsuits for men and women. She has slipped out of her shoes, skirt and blouse and now stands, sweating, in her white rubber bra and high waisted panties. There is a quick knock and then…

“I thought you might need a bathing ca… oh, bugger, sorry, I thought you’d changed by now. Oh my goodness, Emily, excuse me for barging in.” Then she stops. “Oh, my mother had panty girdles like that, Playtex wasn’t it, high waist and even the ventilation holes, and in latex, or rubber I suppose.” She laughs, completely at ease, while Emily is feeling rather embarrassed.

“Terrible manners of me, sorry, goodness, you do look really spectacular like that. Why do you…”

“I find them comfortable, and the high waist of the panties and the bra are great support. They also relax me, when I’m nervous, or think I’m going to be.”

“Oh god, Emily, I can’t imagine you being nervous, ever. They are amazingly sexy in a ‘50’s type way, I’d love to get a pair of those, but you probably can’t now.”

“These are made for me by my special supplier, who provides me with…”

“All your rubber clothing, come on Emily, we’re past that now, don’t be shy.” It’s very rare that Emily is caught unawares, but being with a film and theatre icon, and talking so openly had taken her off guard. “Well hell, could you get me a couple of pairs of those panties I would love it, it will keep my paunch in nicely.”

“Kate, you’ll never need them for that, you look stunning, you look like Benson’s, sorry, Sam’s sister, not his mum.”

“Oh, you are a sweet liar.” She laughs. “The men have gone and you know you don’t need a suit, do you. The rubber just needs a wipe down, brilliant. I brought you a bathing cap too, cover that lovely hair of yours. Then you’ll be clothed in just rubber, which I understand from your website you are more than comfortable with, yes? I’ll have to make do with this boring black speedo.”

Then without even turning, Kate pulls off her t-shirt, then slips out of her baggy pants. Emily stands for a second, still a bit stunned.

“Oh come on, you have female clients, Emily, we’re all girls here.” She is unabashed as she slips out of her bra, exposing still firm, fine breasts and then her panties, exposing her pink pussy, over which is a vertical strip of hair a half inch wide and two inches long. She looks up, chuckling.

“My landing strip, just in case James gets lost in the dark.” She is completely at ease naked, and has a fabulous body, lots of gym work, running and gardening no doubt, thought Emily, as she pulls the bathing cap over her folded hair. Kate pulls on a skin-tight speedo, high on the hips and covering her bust up to her throat.

“In the summer I do 150 lengths. It’s not a huge pool (Emily thinks it was plenty long enough, she certainly couldn’t do 150 lengths) but it gets the heart going.” She pulls a matching bathing cap on and in a sisterly manner puts her arm around Emily.

“Come on, last one in is a stinker.” She runs to the pool before Emily has even started and does a perfect dive, staying submerged for half a length. Emily, the wimp, takes the steps, slowly, until Kate swims to her and begins splashing, so she is soon submerged as well. The pool is heated, barely needing it in the hot sun, and Emily finds that she is immediately relaxed, this is fantastic, and this woman is, well just fun to be with. They swim and splash and float, Kate swims like a dolphin, Emily feels like a floating log beside her. She finds Kate incredibly sexy for some reason. She has seen her naked on screen, Kate is one of those people who really doesn’t give a damn. Here is the mother of her lover? She just has an enormous appetite for fun, completely without shame or shyness. In the deep end they hold each other, arms around waists, quite close.

I hardly know this woman, and I’m on my best behaviour, she thinks, and there just inside her – as was sometimes the case with Ruby or Carol – is a frisson of excitement, of arousal. Can Kate detect that? Emily could kiss those famous lips right now, their breasts were touching, Emily’s nipples are hard and she feels hot despite the cooling water. This is not meant to happen, it can’t happen. Kate held her close, not letting her swim away, yet completely innocent, surely?

“What’s it like, having someone giving themselves to you completely, powerless, trusting you absolutely, while you do… whatever you do?” She can feel Kate’s hands on her buttocks supporting her. Crikey, is she aware what she is doing to me?    

“It’s tremendous flattery, I’m honoured by it, really. It’s a great responsibility, because I know what it takes to give everything to another, I truly respect my clients.” Kate spins her around, oh oh, don’t do that, she thinks, trying to concentrate. “We have huge fun, but it’s serious fun, mutual respect. As I said, we’re in roles, and we’re playing but it’s not acting, it really is for real. I love it.” They are silent for a second, floating together, breasts touching, both now very aware of the situation, Kate pulls Emily to her.

“Sam is a very lucky man, I think.”

“No no, I’m the lucky one, I know that.” Kate smiles and kisses her on the cheek, holding it. They begin to sink as Kate laughs, and they separate. They know something has passed between them, and both know that this is unchartered water. Kate is after all, her lover’s mother. But they are still very comfortable with each other, they’ve hit it off in no time. After they shower, Emily still amazed at how Kate seems unaware, or more likely uncaring, of her own nudity. They dry off and Kate watches as Emily pulls up the tight panties, not saying anything about her bald pussy, then slides back into her rubber bra.

Back at the table there is a calm, two women who have discovered a bond of sorts. The men return, and surprise, James has decided to buy the car, so everyone is in good spirits. Nothing is said about the swim, nothing needs be said. They have to leave and there are hugs and kisses. Kate whispers in Emily’s ear as she is getting into the car.

“You’re some woman, Emily. I have had a great afternoon. You see there was no need for you to be nervous. I hope to see a lot of you in the future, I know you will look after my boy.” Emily now at ease, says.

“I would love to have you come and see my place. I think you’d like it, maybe just the two of us for starters.” She doesn’t know why she says this, but this famous woman is so alluring, so much fun, and she really doesn’t care what she might think if she decides to show her the stables.   

“Only if you’ll show me your place of work.”  Kate giggles, with a raised eyebrow, as if reading her mind.

“Done.”

Emily Volunteers A Forfeiture

On the drive back, Benson has a permanent smile on his face, is it the car purchase, or seeing Emily’s face when she was introduced to Kate? Emily should be mad with him, but these thoughts are swamped by her memory of Kate, her beauty, her vivacity, her complete and utter openness. And then there’s the time in the cabana, and then in the pool. She can’t see how dear, initially shy Benson could be her son. But James is the rock, much like Benson, quiet, solid, calm, amusing. She hopes she passed the test, she really does.

It is two weeks later when rain is forecast for the Sunday, and this gives Emily an idea. She remembers the two weeks before and Benson’s desires, should she have lost the wager. Go shopping, hhmm, and that’s all, Benson to select her clothes - and pay for them. There must be a catch, there has to be, but she is an adventurous spirit, and so she signed the note and on the Sunday morning gives it to him.

“Here, I’m prepared to take you up on our wager.”

“But Emily my love, you won, fair and square, and I paid my debt, I remember every second of it.” She sits next to him at the breakfast table.

“Yes I know, but the odds, well what shall I say, were stacked against you. Benson, I had you figured, or mostly at least. So I feel just a tiny bit guilty.” She leans back.

“And anyway, I need a treat, you can buy me some nice clothes, I promise I won’t bankrupt my poor Chief Inspector.” He thinks on this for a while, what is she up to? Or maybe she just wants to go shopping with him, why would she want to do that?

“All right, that’s very generous of you, I think.” He laughs. “Did you read the wager properly? You’re happy with agreeing to the terms? We go shopping and I will pay for your clothes, and select them of course.”

“Yes, I read the wager, see - I signed for it, right there. I’m sure you have something up your sleeve, but I’m going along with it, okay, lock, stock etc okay?”

“A woman as good as her word, and no backing down.” She is sure there is some hidden trick here, but what the hell, she thinks, in for a penny and all that.

“I don’t back down Benson, ever, you know me by now.”

Emily Going Shopping Is Not Quite What She Expected

“All right, my love, I’ll see you in the stables in half an hour. Looks like it’s going to rain all day, absolutely perfect, so we just have to get it all organised and dress appropriately.”

The stables, she thinks, perhaps some athletic sex before we go, that would be perfect. She comes to the stables a half hour later, and sees Benson in his custom-made black rubber suit, as if it had been painted on. She takes a breath, he looks like an obsidian Greek statue, except for the rampant cock. Oh, this could be fun. And then she sees her rubber clothes draped over the whipping horse. These are her clothes, not those for clients. Emily has her own closet, and Benson is well aware of that. It contains rows and rows of rubber garments, of every design and colour.

“Oh, this looks interesting, some rubber sex before we leave, yummy.” She giggles and begins to take her clothes off. Within seconds she is naked and Benson passes her a cream rubber corselette, already powdered on the inside, she notes. It is very firm in the waist and supportive in the breast area, with the almost obligatory nipples holes. It has no crotch, curving just above her pubis and framing her buttocks. Along the bottom are six suspenders.

“Good selection, Benson, here, help me in.” Wriggling, she pulls it over her thighs and adjusts it over her breasts.

“Oooh, that’s tight, haven’t worn it in a few weeks, must have put a couple of pounds on.”

“You look fabulous.”

“Yes, I see by your reaction.” She laughs as she sees his cock now fully hard and extending out from his rubber suit. He then hands her black stockings which she expertly pulls up her legs, she must have done this a thousand times, but still she gets a frisson of excitement. She adjusts them on the suspenders, as Benson hands her elbow length black gloves, and these are quickly pulled up her forearms and smoothed out.

“Hhmm, can we stop here, I feel so horny now.”

“No, not yet, a couple more things to go.” And she sees her stunning scarlet rubber dress, one of her favourites.

“I have to say, Benson you have wonderful taste, I’m looking forward to spending some of your cash later, but I’m looking forward to some sex first dressed like this.” He doesn’t answer as he helps her in it. The dress is form-fitting from high neck to waist and down the arms to the wrists, but from the waist it flares slightly to mid thigh, showing off her fabulous, almost endless legs. It is Benson who takes a breath as she steps into it, pulling it over her hips and cradling her breasts. Then he zips it up the back. He now opens a pair of panties for her to step into, a variation on many rubber panties she has. These are more of the bikini type, just covering the bottom of the corselette, and she is aroused to see the heart shaped opening opposite her pussy, and another at her bum. He can see a sheen of sweat on her brow, and there is no hiding the glistening juices on her labia. He hands her a pair of black leather ankle boots, with only three inch heels. He assists her in lacing them as her corselette rather restricts her bending.

“Oh god, Benson, fuck me now, I’m just about dripping.” But he ignores her with a smile, and wraps a broad leather belt, about three inches deep around her narrow waist. On either side are D rings, she has used this before on clients. Then she sees he has a set of cuffs with short chains in his hands, and giggling she presents her wrists to him.

“Oh, so you don’t want me running away or fighting, ha ha, no chance of that, you can ravish me whenever you want.” Buckling one cuff, then the other around her wrist, without fanfare he clips the chains to the two D rings at her waist. She now is aware she is powerless to repel any advances he makes – not that she would want to - and this actually makes her more aroused. She can see his cock, hard and muscled, and leans over the whipping horse.

“Fuck me, Benson, come on, I’m so wet, please, even just a quickie.” This had not been part of his plan, but seeing her like this almost makes him come, her dress exposing her stocking tops, her gleaming black stockings and of course her utter vulnerability. He rummages in a drawer and comes up with a condom, slips it on - he is getting much better at this - and raises her skirt. Below her sphincter he sees his prize, framed in the heart-shaped opening of the panties, glistening, even a couple of droplets visible. He doesn’t nudge, or play, or tease or tickle her, he simply plunges into her. She woofs a loud exhalation of air, and grunts in pleasure as he takes up a fast rhythm. This will not last long, for he has plans for the afternoon, and after only three or four minutes he comes. But it does not disappoint her, for she too is shaking in pleasure.

He withdraws, removes the condom and wipes himself down. As Emily is regaining her breath, he goes to the changing room and returns within a couple of minutes. She has risen from the whipping horse and sees that he is buttoning a black silk shirt over his rubber suit, up to the collar and covering the suit’s collar. She can just see the rubber suit under his long cotton pants, before he zips up. Now he is dressed for town, but with rubber fully covering him underneath. He smiles when he sees her staring at him.

“Okay, I’m good, I have the brolly and my coat in the car, and you’re almost ready too.” He waits for her reaction.

“What do you mean? I have to get out of this gear first. Benson, I do like to see you’re getting into the rubber and everything, and even venturing out incognito, that’s cool but what about me here?” He approaches her, taking her forearms, her wrists still cuffed to her waist.

“Oh Emily, I think you’re just perfect.”

“What, what do you mean. I can’t go out like this. Look I wear some rubber outside in the real world of course, but under my… just like you, yes, it’s fun. But I can’t go…”

“Emily, you read the wager, didn’t you?”

“What? Yes, we were going shopping and you were going to choose my clothes.” And then she looks down at her scarlet dress and black stockings. “But I didn’t...”

“Exactly, I have chosen your clothes.”

“No, it didn’t say that, did it? Well maybe it did, but you didn’t mean… god, Benson, you shite, you complete shite, you planned this, you fucking… I’m not going out like this, okay. I love the rubber, but in my controlled environment, under my terms, all right? Now get me out of…” Benson holds up his hands.

“All right, okay, pity though, and I thought you were a woman of her word, to be trusted.”

“Don’t try that on me.”

“Okay, my scarlet woman, didn’t scarlet women used to be whores, loose women. Sorry, that’s a bit far I know, sorry about that, but really Emily, I thought at least you could keep a bet. I kept mine, to the letter. I was your pony boy. Shame on you. You look superb like that, and I’m not suggesting we go out with you like that. Why do you think I wanted a rainy day, because you will be wearing…” he goes to the closet and pulls out a black rubber ankle length hooded cape, “this. You’ll be covered from head to toe, and all this gorgeous stuff,” he places his hand on her breast, she wants to resist but her hands are still cuffed, “will be undercover, literally.”

She stares at him for fully thirty seconds, her mind envisioning all that might happen, and the fact that she’s tried to back out of a wager. She knows he’s right, and hates to admit it.

“You are a complete shit, that was very devious of you, very clever. I don’t see why I should agree, I still think you cheated.” She then looks at him, a little sheepishly. “But okay, you win, I will agree to your terms, because I’m above you and your lowly, cheap tactics.” She manages to keep a straight face as he grins at her, he hasn’t cheated, she had not read the wager properly, it is her mistake, but she is not used to being beaten like that.

“All right, let’s get going then, I want to see where you’re taking me, I’m going to break your bloody bank balance, you bugger. But if I’m dressed like this how am I going to try things on? You’re not taking me to the fashion houses like this are you? Bloody hell, Benson, no way, no way.”

“Oh, we’ll think of something.” And he drapes the cape over her shoulders, she shudders as the heavy rubber comes in contact with her dress. It has ten or twelve studs from neck to ankles and he presses them together until she is fully covered, and there is no suggestion as to what she is wearing underneath. He pulls the hood over her head and attempts to kiss her, she tries to avoid him, she’s still mad that she’d been conned so easily.

“Hhmm, from scarlet woman to little black riding hood. Oh, you look wonderful.”

Rubber Bondage In Public

They take his car to the railway station. She says nothing but would have preferred to drive to town. He parks and helps her out, and puts on his raincoat, grabs an umbrella and they enter the platform. She is nervous already. It is raining steadily and everyone has umbrellas or waterproofs, but these are of the cagoule/goretex variety. Hers however is clearly old-fashioned rubber and already she can feel eyes studying her.

“Why can’t we take your car? I’m not liking this too much, it’s way too public for my comfort.”

“Hard work and too expensive to find parking. Relax my love, they are staring at you because you are quite beautiful.”

“Oh right, and not because I’m head to toe in black rubber.” She says rather too loudly and a couple more look her over. But she is still flattered by his comment. In truth she knows she looks very tasty indeed. Once she is on the small train she relaxes a little but is not happy she is still cuffed.

“This is silly Benson, release me please,” she starts to plead quietly, “I’m hot and sweaty, and I’m sure some people think something’s up. They must do.” He slides his hand through the flap in the side of the cape and begins to stroke her back.

“Don’t, don’t, someone will see.” He can see sweat on her brow, he rather likes her out of her comfort zone, she is more vulnerable of course, but he wants her to understand that she is in his care, his power. After they get to the station in town, she wants to know where they are going.

“You’ll see.” He chuckles. They then board a bus, which makes her very uncomfortable again, feeling eyes on her. But what can they see? A woman dressed from top to toe for the rain, rubber cape and boots are only visible, perhaps a bit old-fashioned, or perhaps even ahead of fashion. Maybe she is just being paranoid, but she does feel eyes on her. Do they know that she is cuffed underneath? She tries to relax, and just enjoy the rubber gripping her. She is getting hot and sweaty, the tight corselette gripping her from boobs to hips. The panties are okay open at the front and rear. She wonders if she smells, there is the rubber of course, but she’d had sex before leaving, and had come more than once. Does she smell of sex? Rubber sex? For a second, just a second, she giggles to herself. Finally, they come to their stop and Benson ushers her out, raising his umbrella and hugging her to him. She likes that.

After a couple of hundred yards she recognises the area, she knows where they are going.

“You bugger. I thought we were going to the west end to shop, some really high-end stuff, and you take me…” He pulls her to him, and under the umbrella, rain pounding, he kisses her. She can’t move and with him kissing her, she begins to relax a bit, feeling horny again. They are right outside a rubber shop she’s been to many times, they all know her there and take care of her many orders. They have her measurements and make wonderful clothes for her, often to her design. She’s mentioned the shop, and a couple of other shops in passing, and Benson, being Benson, has not forgotten. She has ordered a lot of stuff on the internet, but for quality stuff, made to measure, she likes to shop the old-fashioned way.

“Look Benson, I like the thought, of coming here, I’m flattered but uncuff me please, please? They know me as a dom, and respect my privacy and profession, and they’ve only seen me as a dom. I can’t go in like…”

He buzzes the bell, the door opens and he leads her in. Shit, she thinks, there goes my reputation. He has his arm around her and whispers as they enter the large sales areas, stacked to the ceiling, the smell of rubber assailing them. He lowers her hood, god she is beautiful.

“You’ll have to come up with a good story for all this rubber you’re wearing, because, my love, my dear, I’m the boss right now.”

In The Market For Some Rubber

A young, very perky sales assistant approaches them, clearly knowing Emily.

“Emily hey, good to see you, how are things, you look really good by the way, dressed for the weather.” She laughs.

“But then you’ll always be ready for this weather. Look at you, bet you got a few stares on the street.” Emily smiles but can do little more.

“Hi Lynn, good to see you too. This is Ben… erm Sam, this is Sam, Lynn, my, well, boyfriend, I suppose… yes, my man.” Benson grips her by the waist and smiles down at Lynn.

“Hi Lynn, pleased to meet you.” Lynn stands back, appraising him.

“Hmm, Sam the man, hi, sheez, where did you get this hunk Emily, any more where you come from, Sam?” Lynn, while quite petite in stature is not slow in coming forward, and as Emily recalls, is always full of fun. She is early 20’s and wears rubber tights tucked into biker boots, what looks like a thin rubber t-shirt and a slim leather jacket, she cuts quite a look.

“Here, give me your cape, it’s one of ours isn’t it. I love this one. You’ll be baking in ten minutes under these lights.”

“No, I’m fine…”

“Yes, good idea.” Benson interrupts her, smiling coolly, patting her backside. And he opens the stud at her collar, with Emily staring daggers at him. He opens three more studs and then allows the cape to drop to the floor, and there Emily stands, fuming inside but trying to stay cool. First Lynn sees the scarlet dress, the black stockings and boots.

“Wow, perfect, I knew that dress would look great on you, fantastic, Emily.” And then she sees the cuffs holding Emily’s wrists to her waist.

“Oooh, hello, hello, Emily, look at you, okay what’s going on here? You’re the best respected dom around, and more so after all that craziness in the news. But what’s with the… have you gone sub? No way. I don’t believe it.”

Emily doesn’t know how to start, she is furious with Benson. When buying her clothes and accessories, she sometimes wore rubber, under her street clothes, but was, obviously, always the dom, and she has a reputation with the rubber retailers and wholesalers. Now Benson has thrown that to the wind. Furious and a little embarrassed, how is she going to explain this? But it is Benson who speaks, placing a hand around her narrow waist.

“Maybe I should explain, Lynn. I know about Emily’s profession and couldn’t be happier for her, she’s a great professional, the perfect dom, yes? I’m not a client, I’m her boyfrie… man, all right, and we are getting on great. Aren’t we love?” Emily nods a smile, rather forced. Oh, wait till we get back, she thinks.

“But you know Lynn, even some doms have a sub side. I’m not an expert, but Emily does it seems have a sub side too, she found it out not long ago, and she’s happy to play the sub side with me, aren’t you sweetheart?” He places his hand around her slim waist. Emily realises that, dressed as she is, she is not going to get away with a lie.

“Well erm, look Lynn, I am a dom, through and through, but… sometimes, and look the only times, Ben… erm, Sam and I have done some playing and experimenting, okay, no big deal, and during that, I found… we tried all kinds of… play, anyway with Sam, with Sam, okay I enjoyed, sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes a more passive er role. Okay?”

She is feeling very uncomfortable explaining all this, stuttering, stalling, and this rather amuses Benson. They know her as the dom, and now here she is, bound in cuffs, almost paraded - as a possession of Benson. She doesn’t mind the scarlet rubber dress, she knows she looks good in it, great in it, but the other thing that surprises her is that her pussy is just a little wet. Clearly her body is reacting not just to the rubber dress, but the submissive role she is enduring as well.

“Well, who’d have thought it, but Emily, why are you so nervous about it, what, you the mighty dom, can’t have a subby side? Look if I was going to be a sub, then I wouldn’t mind being one under Sam here, for sure. You can tie me up in rubber anytime Sam.” She laughs. “So Sam, are you into this stuff, interested in the rubber and the BDSM stuff? Or are you just Emily’s vanilla sweetheart, er, no offence.” But Emily notices Benson is now really in his element, the cool interrogator easily parring the jibes.

“No Lynn, none taken, I hope I’m not her piece of fluff. When I got to know her I wasn’t into this, as you put it. But there’s more to it than appears, and I have erm, dabbled with her, yes, and like it, I want to keep an open mind and experiment.” He keeps his arm proprietorially around Emily. “So yes, we like to role play roles and such, and that’s why I have Emily nicely cuffed and powerless in front of you. Doesn’t she look gorgeous? We had a bet, which she won, but then she volunteered to match my part of the wager, and here we are. I said I would take her shopping and I would choose the clothes and pay for them.”

“Sounds like a good deal to me, small price to pay for getting some nice rubber for free. And you brought her here? What a guy you have, Emily! You don’t want to let this one go, ha ha. You’ll get over the sub in public stuff, you’ll get to like it, I’ll bet, in no time. You look good enough to eat, I bet you’re just a little wet right now.” She pats her playfully on her shoulder, true as it is, Emily doesn’t want to admit this at all.

“So Sam, are we looking for anything special, sub stuff, dom gear, masks, inflatables, Emily has bought the lot from here.”

“Well a bit of everything I think. Can we just wander around and I’ll get some ideas?”

“Of course, you know we have Emily’s detailed measurements so we can make anything you want, and we have a manual here with pictures of some clothes and BDSM stuff we can make up.”

They look at this for a while, Emily still rather mad at him, and then move about the shop, Emily is well aware of her wrists being cuffed to her waist. She’s not bothered being clothed in the scarlet dress and stockings, the place is full of rubber after all, but being in bondage in public, even in here, is still a little unnerving, particularly as a couple of other shoppers now enter the store.

Benson Makes Some Selections

They come upon a garment of flesh coloured rubber on a coat hanger next to a row of full body catsuits in all manner of colours, and Lynn laughs. Benson draws it off the rack.

“I knew you would like that, obviously you like taking your girlfriend out in some rubber, well this is perfect for you. We call it our day suit, ha ha or public suit. This is an absolute beauty, here, feel the rubber, silky smooth, quite thin and yet very strong, really hard to tear. It is perfectly flesh coloured, has a scooped neckline, part exposed shoulders, so it’s easy to wear street clothes over, blouses, jackets, shirts; and sleeves above wrists, no chance of seeing the rubber underneath. Now these attached socks mean a perfect fit, fully stretched over the body, shoulders to toes, so no chance at all of wrinkling or creasing, and you can wear stockings or tights, no not tights, I hate tights, ha ha, and no one will know.’ Lynn is really getting into this. “And of course for long term wear we have the openings at the pussy and anus here. I’ve worn one all day in town, I got nice and warm, and horny, but from the outside I just looked normal, no one looked twice at me. The only problem is if you get, well er, wet, and I have, believe me, it can tend to show on your street clothes, so you may want to wear a pair of rubber panties as well, and not give away what’s happening underneath.” She laughs again.

“Your outfit now is fantastic, but really only good for wet days, otherwise you will attract attention, apart from of course Emily being so beautiful. But with this you can take her out any time of the year.”

Without hesitation Benson says.

“Oh yes, yes, I want one of these. It means we can get out more and I will know what Emily is wearing, it kind of makes it a bit more fun, our little secret.” Emily doesn’t really have a problem with this, not at all, she’s in for a bit of fun always. As long as her wearing rubber is not blatant, like now. This is going all right, so far, she thinks, and is beginning to relax just a bit, despite her public bondage. If she can get Benson to continue wearing his drum tight black rubber suit, with the collar folded down and the wrists pulled up then they can go out together, and only they will know how they are dressed. She rather likes that prospect. They move on and come across a row of hangers, with “intimate attire” and Benson chuckles. He pulls out a rubber baby-doll nightie in shocking pink.

“Oh come on Benson, this is too weird? It isn’t the 50’s anymore, it’s a bit passé isn’t it? I really can’t see myself in…”

“Oh, weird, is it? Look at yourself, it’s hardly as weird as you are right now. Anyway,” he pulls her to him playfully, “if I choose to ravage you while you’re dressed in this, I will, and I’m paying for it anyway, okay? Just allow me this little peccadillo, all right? Goodness knows we have a few between us, and anyway you’ll look very sexy, in a conventional way perhaps.”

He pulls it off the hanger, and then looks at Emily, smiling. It is a loose pink rubber top, low cut over the breasts with spaghetti straps, and flares to just covering her pubis. It comes with the skimpiest of pink panties, frilled at waist and legs.

“It looks so corny, Benson. Hardly hides anything.” She scowls.

“Let me be the judge of that, and it’s not meant to hide anything, just titillate, when I’m giving you a good rogering.” She can’t help but laugh. Considering what they’ve been wearing over the last year or so, she does see the irony in it, this outfit being what more conventional people might think sexy, but in shocking pink rubber, well Emily has to admit, it might lead to fun. They move on and come across a rack of dresses, short, long, strapless, long-sleeved, all kinds in different colours. She watches as he takes his time, inspecting, pulling one and then another out. Then he seems to find one he likes.

Emily takes a breath, for it is a gorgeous ankle length evening dress in shimmering white rubber. It has a halter neck, in fact from the breasts up, the front is covered, but the shoulders and shoulder blades down to just above the waist at the rear are exposed. Emily immediately loves it, almost demure at the front, covering all, at the back it is sexy, and skin tight from waist to calves. It’s almost a hobble skirt as it is so tight down to the calves, but will look stunning with a pair of shoulder-length opera gloves. There are tiny, almost invisible, zips along the outside of the knees down to the calves, and it will be a challenge to squeeze into it with lots of talc. But Emily loves it.

“You don’t expect me to go to the theatre or dinner in that, do you?” But he can see she is excited.

“Maybe, one day, and you’d stop the show, but why not for a few quiet dinners at home, I know you like to dress up. So?”

“I love it, love it, they’ll do me one to my exact measurements, but you’ll have to help me into it.” He smiles, and pulls her to him.

“And out of it afterwards.” She hasn’t expected him to be so into this, he doesn’t seem to care that this is going to be expensive.

“Maybe one more purchase, hhmm? You seem to be relaxing a bit now. How about something a bit more daring.” They come upon a display stand in a discreet corner.

“Hello, hello.” On display are several dildo panties, inside out, to show the inserts. There are several, but one that catches his eye is one specifically designed for a woman, for it has two plugs. It is high waisted and the front has a medium sized rubber dildo, but the back is a sizeable butt plug. It is apparent that the front will move as the wearer moves, a little in and a little out, but the rear will be firmly embedded inside her rear, her anal muscle clamped around the narrow base. Benson studies it, and Emily watches him silently.

“You’re not thinking… look Benson, I love the other stuff, even the baby doll might be fun but…” He calls out to Lynn and she comes over. He tells her what they have decided on so far, and she nods approvingly, they will be made to order for Emily. Now he points to the panties.

“I thought these may spice things up a bit, we’ve been a bit conventional so far.”

“Oh yes, I wore one of these a few months ago walking around town, sent me crazy after half an hour, the front just sends a nice subtle message, quite faint as you walk around, but the back, well, you really know you’re plugged.” She laughs. “Is this for female clients of yours, Emily, or…”

As Emily is about to respond, Benson places an arm around her.

“Yes, might be, but you know, Emily has always believed in testing the product herself, haven’t you darling? Didn’t you know that, Lynn? She’s very thorough.” He looks at Emily, with a wicked smile. “So this we’ll have as a take out, so to speak, ha ha. We can give it a trial run, right now.” Emily scowls at him, not happy at all as he sees the changing rooms to one side.

“Do you have talc and lube in there?” Lynn looks a bit shocked, but impressed too.

“Oh yes, of course, jeez, I didn’t expect you, Emily to, erm, wear these now. You go for it, girl! But I see the idea of testing out the product… okay, yes, you can get them on over there, take your time.”

Emily has gone from relaxed and quite enjoying herself to furious again. She can make a scene, even refuse flatly, but what will that do to her reputation? And Benson would win anyway, if he really wants to have his way. Better, she thinks, to pretend it is her idea, doing thorough professional testing. What a fool she feels. He leads her to the changing room, and closes the door behind him.

“You bastard, you devious bast… I should just walk out of here.” But Benson is the epitome of calm.

“Yes, my love, you do that, why not just walk out of here, beautifully rubbered up and cuffed as you are. You will certainly attract attention like that.” And she knows he holds all the cards.

“You have just about humiliated me with my being cuffed in front of my main supplier… you expect me to walk around with these stuffed in me back and front, no way!” While she’s venting off steam, he’s turning the panties inside out and calmly smearing some lube over the butt plug.

“Emily, you’re going to get some lovely clothes to try on when they arrive at your home, you’ve had it your way, so far, so allow me this, hhmm? You should have known I might come up with something like this.”

“Well I didn’t expect you to be such a shit. I’ll be shaking with orgasms all afternoon, you bastard.”

“Don’t play act with me, sweetie, I know you’re really loving all the attention. Now step into these carefully, I don’t think you need any lube up front, look at you, you’re almost dripping. Come on, let’s get on with it, I have further plans for this afternoon.”

“More? Well I suppose they can’t be worse than this, no point in screaming blue murder now is there?” She seems pretty well resigned now.

“Up to you, but your reputation as a permanently in-control dom might suffer if you make a scene, they seem very cool with you wearing it. Just consider it product testing.” He smirks, and she knows he has her and she can do nothing. He helps her carefully slide the rubber panties up her calves and over her knees, cautious not to smear the lube on her stockings.

“We’ll do the front first, oh my, you certainly are wet there, definitely won’t need any lube. You bad girl, see, all this doesn’t lie, I knew you were loving all of this.”

“Oh, shut up and get on with it.” She knows the drill, she bends her thighs slightly and sighs as she feels the dildo touch her labia. Then she takes a breath as it slides in easily. Thank goodness it isn’t as big as Benson’s cock, she thinks.

“Ohhhh, ooooh. Okay that’s not too bad, smaller than you, which is a relief. Look Benson, do we really have to… ooooh, ooooh.” Now she feels the cool rubber head of the butt plug at her rear as Benson pushes steadily. She tries to relax, no point in fighting now, she thinks, as she bends over slightly.

“Ooooh, Benson, oooh, you really are a bastard, wait till I get you back to… oooh, the house.” Benson pushes firmly, and finally thrusts the widest part of the plug past her sphincter and within a second it plops into her.  He pulls up the panties, over her panties with the heart shaped openings at front and rear. Now there are no openings at all… she is thoroughly plugged. She stands and takes a deep breath, and has to admit she doesn’t feel as full as she would have expected, but then takes a couple of steps and can feel the dildo move inside her.

“Oooh, aaaah.” Within a few seconds she knows what Lynn meant. The butt plug will be a minor (yes) immovable irritant, compared to the dildo in her pussy, which is already playing with her libido.

“Good, all ready to go now?” He leans to peck her cheek but she gives him a look and turns her head like a petulant schoolgirl. He smiles and takes her to the counter where Lynn is making out the order. She looks over at Emily, sharing the secret that is hidden under her short skirt.

“All okay?” Lynn smiles knowingly as Emily takes a breath.

“I’ll be a pool of sweat by the time I get back, and my lover here,” she nods in the direction of Benson, “is in for some serious shit when we get back.” Lynn just grins.

“Knowing you, Emily, I’d like to see that. Yes, I think you’ll be able to take care of this hunk here, ha ha. Don’t worry about your reputation, you’re still the number one dom with us here, you’re just testing the product, hey, that’s being a professional.” Benson has put his coat on and drapes the long, hooded cape over Emily, then their eyes lock as he presses the studs up to her neck and pulls up her hood. There is obviously no indication under the cape how Emily is dressed and even more how she is plugged. He pays, takes the receipt without even looking at it, and grabs the umbrella. As they leave the shop, allowing Emily to lead the way, Lynn edges over and whispers.

“You’ve got yourself something very special there, Sam. I would have expected her to raise hell here, I would never have believed what I have seen, she’s an absolute top dom, and there’s only one reason why she hasn’t gone ballistic, but that must be because she must be very much in love with you. Pretty obvious, I’d say. You’re a very lucky man, Sam, so don’t fuck it up.” She smiles and pecks his cheek. He likes Lynn, a real no-nonsense girl, a bit like Ruby, he remembers fondly.

“Don’t worry, I know exactly what I have taken on, Lynn, yes a real handful, and I wouldn’t have it any other way, and I won’t fuck it up, I assure you, I realise how lucky I am.”

story continued in part 9
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