Phoenix

story continued from part three

Part 4: Miss Anya

It was several days until I had any further contact with Anya.

At 10am a package arrived for me at the office, delivered by courier. It was plainly wrapped and hand written in beautiful script. Inside was a box containing a mobile phone - a black Samsung smart phone. Also in the box was a piece of paper with a four digit number written on it. Putting two and two together I used the numbers as the pass-code to the phone. The code worked and I was in.

The phone beeped and a notification told me a WhatsApp message had arrived. The message read:

I will contact you via this phone. Keep it with you always.

I typed a reply, a simple "Hello"

Almost immediately there was a response.

Commands will be provided via this phone. You must follow them explicitly. Failure to do so will bring an end to our arrangement. You must prove you are worthy of my time. Now, using the phone take a video of your office and send it to me.

Why did she want to see my office? Caution made me pause.

Another message arrived ... NOW!

I filmed a quick pan of the office and sent the video to Anya. I heard nothing further for the rest of the day. In the evening I sent a simple "Hello?" message .. But still no reply was forthcoming. Clearly the communications would be uni-directional until she required something of me. I carried the new phone with me wherever I went in case Anya would try and contact me, I didn't want to risk missing her calls.

After a couple of frustratingly silent days I received another package at work. It was 10am, almost the same time as the last delivery. The courier was an imposing guy who looked like he would not be out of place in a boxing ring. He wore no discernible uniform or insignia, presumably an independent courier.

The receptionist, Jess, summoned me to the front desk to sign for the package.

"From Mistress Anya" he said as he passed me the item, which was much larger than the first. I cringed and hunched my shoulders at the volume of his voice, I sensed a couple of heads turn in my direction. Had they heard the term "Mistress" being used? His indiscretion was alarming.

A message arrived on the new mobile.

BEEP BEEP : Take the unopened package to the restroom. Reply when you are there.

I smiled thinly at our receptionist. She was eyeing the package, clearly hoping I would be opening the unorthodox delivery in front of her. I made my excuses, clutched the package to my bosom and made it to the restroom without drawing any further attention to myself.

BEEP BEEP : Turn the phone to video call and put on the item while stood in front of the phone.

I felt so nervous, and naughty. I balanced the phone on the sink in the cubicle, dropped the lids on the toilet and sat while I opened the curious package. Inside was a pair of rubber dildo panties. I toyed with the garment in my hands. The craftsmanship was definitely not up to Jonathan's standards, but it excited me nonetheless. The phallus itself was a good 6 inches long.

"Put them on, Phoenix" Anya's voice chilled me. She was not visible on the screen, but evidently she could see me. I turned her voice down to a whisper for fear of someone coming in and hearing my kinky antics.

"Yes Miss" I whispered and removed my charcoal skirt and simple rubber panties.

I slipped into the dildo pants and sighed as I gently eased the rubber cock into my pussy. I was already slick and it slid in easily.

"You will keep these on all day until you get home. Understand?"

"Yes Miss"

The pants proved very distracting and I constantly had to adjust my seated position to distribute the pressure. The intruder caused me to walk a little stiffly around the office, it was particularly awkward when I sat in my manager's office for an hour's discussion on the Patterson case.

By the time I got home that evening the pants had driven me to a high state of arousal.

BEEP BEEP : Have the pants made you horny?

Yes Miss. I love them.

BEEP BEEP : Accept the video call, and show me you removing the pants. Do it slowly and frig yourself until yourself cum.

I did as instructed, slipping the rubber dildo from my sopping hole in slow motion glory, the glistening shaft seemed to go on forever as it exited my pussy leaving me feeling empty and unloved. And all the while I unashamedly rubbed my clit to orgasm while the phone broadcast what her dirty little slave was doing in full Technicolour Anya-vision.

The very next day, before I had dressed for work, I received another message from Anya.

BEEP BEEP : You will wear your latex catsuit under your work clothes today. The catsuit you wore to Surrender the night we met.

The feeling of being ordered how to dress was a real turn on. There was no way I could wear a skirt suit, my latex covered legs would be exposed and would undoubtedly draw unwanted attention. Luckily I still had a trouser suit in my wardrobe, one of the steadily diminishing collection of items which had not been crafted into a rubber garment by Jonathan. I found a white cotton blouse which had a bit of a prominent collar which just obscured the neck of the catsuit once buttoned to the top.

The obvious complication was my hands. The catsuit's integral gloves were rather conspicuous. I masked them with a pair of white cotton gloves. When colleagues asked about the gloves I lied that my eczema had flared up. This seemed to throw them off the scent, although one particularly observant colleague asked why I had never mentioned eczema before. And so began my little white lies at work to cover my naughty activities. My mum always said that if you were honest you didn't need a good memory ... I had a feeling I was going to need a memory of Mensa proportions.

Several times throughout the day Anya would demand a photo to prove that I still wore the catsuit.

My colleague and friend Marianna sat at the desk opposite mine. "Dani, those are very unusual socks you are wearing"

"What do you mean?" I asked, suddenly self conscious

"They look shiny. I've not seen anything like that before"

I looked down and my trousers had risen a little while my legs were crossed, revealing some of my rubber skin. I had to think quick.

"Umm, yes they are a little unusual aren't they."

"What material is that?"

"They are ... support socks ... made from a compression material ... I, umm overdid it at the gym last night" I lied. Oh lord another little white lie I needed to keep track of.

Throughout the day I constantly felt on the cusp of being discovered for the kinky freak I was. Paranoid thoughts tormented me as I feared all eyes were upon me, watching me, sensing something was different. Did the suit smell? I had become accustomed to it and rarely caught any odour. Regularly I would mist body spray over my clothes just in case.

Many times the phone would command me to go the restroom where Anya would demand photo or video evidence of me wearing the catsuit.

For the next couple of days I heard nothing more from Anya. Jonathan and I talked at length about the new situation. He listened while I talked myself through it all. The control was super exciting and fun. Jonathan asked whether I was comfortable with how my life was going. I replied positively, relishing the devilry, fun, danger, and horniness of it all.

Anya continued to dictate the kinky attire to be worn under my respectable work suits for the next few days. Sometimes I would get off lightly with just latex stockings. Sometimes she would make me wear a catsuit or just a simple rubber brief and bra. Sometimes she would also get me to wear the panties too. And all the time she would test my obedience with an impromptu demand for a photo or video. On one occasion she even demanded I video up my skirt while still sat at my desk so she could see the rubber stockings I was wearing and my exposed, uncovered pussy. Doing so while not alerting Marianna to my actions was particularly tricky, and titillating.

To my surprise it was starting to feel "normal" to wear kinky rubber at work. And because of my penchant for wearing rubber at home I was essentially wearing rubber all day, every day. One unusual day there was no instruction from Anya and I took the opportunity to wear a simple skirt suit, lacy underwear and black tights. The strangest thing was that I felt almost under dressed, like I should be wearing tight shiny rubber.

My life became an Anya-controlled routine. When I woke I looked forward to her contact, excited to find out what I would be wearing that day. In the evening I indulged myself with other items from my growing collection.

The status quo was broken one morning when the courier delivered yet another package, again at 10am precisely. The receptionist was taking a keen interest in the packages, probing me for information. The latest package was about the size of a shoe box, and had some weight to it.

As I headed for the toilets I saw Jess leave her desk and follow me. I darted into a cubicle, set up the phone and turned it to video phone as instructed. The sound of the restroom door opening caused me to freeze.

"Open the package"

High heels clicked slowly on the tiled bathroom floor

"Quieter please Miss, there is someone else in the restroom" I whispered.

"Remove your panties". Her voice was no quieter and I had to quickly turn the volume down as far as possible.

I cringed in fear as I pulled the phallus from my pussy with a gentle plop and put the garment on the floor. I had not heard a cubicle door shut since the person, presumably Jess, had entered the restroom. Was she outside my cubicle, listening?

Within the box was another pair of dildo panties. The pant part of it was the same as the ones I had just discarded. However the new one had a much bigger integrated dildo. It was at least 2 inches longer and the shaft was fatter, and heavier.

"Put them on and sit down again"

Whilst stood I took the opportunity to listen at the cubicle door. Silence. Nothing to suggest anyone else was out there. Had I imagined it perhaps. I slipped the new pants on, feeding the huge dick into my pussy. It certainly made me feel fuller than before. Carelessly I fumbled while pulling the rubber up my hips and it made the distinctive snapping popping sounds that rubber does when snicked.

There! I was sure I heard the click of a heel as the person beyond the door adjusted their position in response to the sound. I sat down carefully, straining to hear.

"Like them?" Anya asked

"Yes Mistress"

"These are special, and will remind you that you are my slave."

"How so Miss?"

To my complete shock, the dildo started to vibrate within me. Because the base of the intruder was lightly resting on the toilet lid it made a rather loud and distinctive noise as it vibrated against the plastic seat. I leapt to my feet in horror to stop the noise, legs wide apart, arms bracing the wall deadening as much of the vibe noise as possible.

And then I heard rapid heeled footsteps and the restroom door opening and closing.

"Shit" I said through gritted teeth. The vibrations in my puss ceased.

"I think the receptionist heard Miss!"

"Don't they already know what a dirty little kinky slut you are?" Anya laughed. "When I think you need reminding of your status your internal friend will let you know. I can control it via the phone, any time, anywhere. Put the old pants into your desk drawer and keep them there."

The seriousness of the predicament was not lost on me as I redressed. Anya gave me another couple of quick vibrations before I left the restroom to reinforce her point. I exited the bathroom sheepishly and glanced at the receptionist on the way to my desk. She was trying her hardest to not look at me, but her eyes were flicking between her computer screen and me. I blushed a deep crimson.

Before I made it to my desk Anya gave me a particularly strong vibe which almost caused my knees to buckle. I only just managed to maintain my poise and dignity by grabbing the photocopier and pretending to look for some papers. The damn receptionist was still watching me. She had to know I was up to something.

I stowed the old pants in my desk drawer and buried them under papers and anything else I could find. The drawer did not lock, obfuscation was the only option I had.

Anya frequently made the vibe give short gentle caresses in my pussy. It felt very nice. It felt very dangerous.

At Anya's behest I wore the new pants to work every day, and she would fire up the little bugger frequently, always taking me by surprise. Usually the teasing was gentle and short lived, keeping me almost permanently wet and horny, and by the time I got home in the evening I was always more than ready to masturbate myself to orgasm, releasing the pent up tension while she watched me debase myself for her in front of the phone's camera.

~~~~~

The alarm clock woke me at 6am with it's relentless monotonous tones. I forced myself to rouse fully and awaited the daily missive from Mistress Anya. Her texts were now well part of my daily routine, and I actually looked forward to receiving them, setting the tone for the day ahead.

That morning the message from Anya instructed me to wear my rubber peephole bra, rubber stockings and of course the vibrating dildo panties which she insisted I wear every day. She also demanded that I wear my dark grey business suit. It made hiding the stockings a little tricky but I managed to do so with a beautiful pair of sensible heeled leather knee boots.

At 10am the courier delivered an envelope and a small package no bigger than a box of matches to the office. A subsequent text from Anya told me not to open the envelope or package until instructed, and that I must take it to an address at 9pm precisely that evening. Once there, I was to ask for Karl.

Anya was more playful than usual with the vibrator throughout the day, and chose longer periods of gentle, massaging vibes instead of strong attention grabbing episodes. The net effect was to keep me very aroused and horny indeed. Somehow she managed to prevent me cumming by turning the dildo off with frustratingly precise timing.

Because of impending evening appointment I worked late in the office. Unfortunately this meant I was unable to release my pent up horniness which I had been accustomed to doing once safely back home. I was hornier than ever when I left the office at 8pm for the secretive rendezvous.

***

At a little before 9pm I was stood across the road from the address I had been given. "Black Rose Tattoo Studio" was the name of the establishment. The shadows hid my identity in their dark obscurity while I watched the studio, steeling myself. The street was almost deserted, businesses had long since closed for the day leaving the area to the creatures of the night.

When chance finally offered me a deserted street I dashed across the road and into the studio. I sat and waited nervously in the small reception for Karl. The buzz of a tattoo gun droned from behind a curtain to the back of the shop. Like the dentist's drill the buzz of the tattoo gun did nothing to calm my nerves.

Being there was probably a bad idea. It seemed Anya intended to mark me, a tattoo to brand me as hers perhaps. We had never even discussed such a thing. Fetish wear was second nature to me now, but getting permanently marked was a huge step. I probably should have left the studio, but the continual tease of my vibe had my common sense subdued by hyper-arousal and irrational thought processes. She had it set to a very subtle vibe as if distracting me from running.

I sat in a comfy armchair and leafed through a book of designs. Some were true works of art, while others beggared belief as to why one would want them permanently etched into their skin. Skulls, roses, naked amazons, tribal markings, genitalia. You name it, it was in the book ready to be cut into virgin flesh. I paused over one particular design, a photo of the nape of a woman's neck, her long hair pulled to one side to expose the tattoo. It was a single word in solid black script ... "SLAVE". Underneath was a bar code.

"You want this?"

I jumped out my skin as the hitherto unseen man asked me the question.

"This? No!! Oh my God, no"

"Ok. So, what you want? Flower? Pretty butterfly?"

The man had a very abrupt manner, and his voice had the familiar lilt of Anya's own accent. I estimated him to be in his 20s, his thick black birds nest hair needed a good wash and cut. Both his arms were covered in tattoos, from his wrists to underneath the sleeves of his black Iron Maiden tee.

"Mistress Anya told me to come here. She told me to ask for Karl." I passed him the envelope which he opened and read a note within. He frowned, looked at me and scratched his head.

"You really want this?" he looked at me with some doubt. "I think you make a mistake, yes?"

"What does the note say?"

"You will find out soon enough. You agree to this?" he waved the note expressively.

I knew I had to curb my self destruction, but deep down in my heart I knew I wanted to go as deep into Anya's forbidden world as I dare. But was this too far? Fetish clothing and parties were one thing, but a visit to a tattoo parlour could be a stupid, and life changing idea. One thing was clear though, I was getting off on the danger of it all. And the damn dildo was making me hotter and hotter.

"Yes, I want this"

The young man whistled gently as if impressed with my bravado. He had me fill in a consent form, and when the formalities were done he motioned me towards the curtain at the back of the shop.

"What design of tattoo is it going to be?" I asked, praying it was not bar codes or anything which could cause me problems at work.

"No tattoo."

"What do you mean, no tattoo?"

"No tattoo. Rings."

I halted at the curtain. "What do you mean, rings?"

"Rings, steel rings ... pierce. Yes? This is what is said in the letter."

"What?? I assumed it was a going to be a simple tattoo"

He laughed and nudged me gently, yet firmly through the curtain.

The room beyond the curtain was well lit. Rock music was playing in the background. To the left of the room was a padded bench, like a masseuse table. Instead he motioned me right towards a chair while he took my handbag and placed it on the side.

"You have the box?"

I fished the package out of my bag and handed it to him. He unwrapped it and opened the small case inside. "Nice" he said.

"Please, remove your blouse and bra, and sit in the chair."

It was all moving so fast I was caught up in the moment. Common sense had abandoned me and I did as he asked and settled back into the chair taking deep calming breaths.

My nipples were hard with the cool air and excitement. The dildo sound was more evident now it rested against the leather of the chair. Karl's eyes lingered on my full pert breasts, he clearly liked what he saw.

He tipped some metal items into his hand from the box. "Anya has provided for the procedure and rings for you. Nothing to pay. You are one of her slaves, right?"

"Not yet. She is testing me. Perhaps soon." I said nervously.

Karl examined the items closely and chuckled. "Right, right, quite soon I think.".

After the anaesthetic wipe he worked quickly and efficiently in piercing my nipples at the base and installing the surprisingly substantial shiny metal jewellery.

I squealed as each was pierced, the anaesthetic not fully numbing the pain. The metal adornments felt cold and heavy against my hot breasts.

"You like?"

I played with the rings with my fingers. They were indeed beautiful, but very sore.

"Ok. Skirt and knickers off."

"Pardon?"

"We are not finished. Quick, I want to close studio."

"I don't want anything down there"

"You signed. No finished yet. Come. Quick."

I don't know why I let him continue. Adrenaline, excitement, danger ... stupidity. I ashamedly removed the dildo pants with a plopping noise. Karl stared at me, grinned and scratched his birds nest is disbelief. He placed a towel under my ass to stop my juices running onto the chair all the while muttering something to himself under his breath.

He adjusted the chair so that my legs were in stirrups, held obscenely wide. From my position I could see only his crazy hair as he worked between my thighs, an odd sensation to have a stranger at your most personal area.

He again used the anaesthetic wipes on my already sopping pussy region. "You like getting pierced, yes?" He showed me the wipe, and I flushed a deep crimson as I saw what he was talking about, my vaginal juices clearly evident. "You are her pain slut maybe?"

"No! Fuck, why would you say that?"

"Hey, I'm not judging. We can put as much metal in you as you want. Sign the consent, everyone happy."

"Just get on with it will you!" I didn't want all the chat. I was there for one purpose and then I wanted out, to skulk back into the shadows.

The pain as my clitty was pierced was like nothing I had felt before, white hot fire. If it had not been for the stirrups I would have crushed his head between my thighs in an instant.

"All done" I looked at my reddened clit in the his mirror. No wonder it was painful, it was again a more prominent ring than I was expecting.

I examined all three rings closely. "How do I take them out? I can't see the join?"

"Not come out. They are, how you say, fixed ... permanent."

Literally speechless, I had never considered they would be permanent.

Anya had really overstepped a boundary. The time we had spent so far was always able to be undone, and packed away neatly when returning to my real life. Locks could be unlocked. Clothing could be removed. Bruises would heal. Humiliation overcome in time. Normality reinstated.

But the ring piercings were Anya becoming a permanent part of me. More permanent than I could possibly imagine.

~~~~~

Anya had been delighted I had consented to the piercings. When I pressed her about the permanency, she would merely comment that it was part of my tests.

Thankfully for the next few days she allowed me to wear my rubber peephole bra and crotchless panties while the piercings healed. It was nice to spend some time without a tormenting dildo in my pussy, although it might have been a nice distraction from the ache of my healing nips and clit. The nipple rings were almost visible through my thin work blouses and I had to buy some thicker ones to hide my little secrets.

Anya demanded photos of my rings every day and she was happy with how they were healing. She would have me flick, twist and pull them for her while she watched via the phone.

Once fully healed the rings actually felt wonderful when played with. My clit piercing though could only take a small amount of attention before becoming uncomfortable, but when done right my clit was like a fuse bringing my whole pussy to life.

It was a Wednesday, and we had an important meeting with Mr Patterson's team. I had pulled an all nighter to get the case notes and plan ready for the presentation. The trial was nearly upon us and we had to make sure everything was perfect.

The time was 9.55, the meeting was scheduled to begin at 10.30. Patterson's team were already in the boardroom having discussions with our senior management. I was nervous, it was a big day for both the company and myself. My work would be scrutinised and judged closely, my career could be launched or crippled in the next couple of hours.

"Dani?" our receptionist called over to me, stirring me from my focus. The courier was at the desk, my heart sank. Oh no, not today of all days.

The courier handed me a package no bigger than a jewellery box which I took to the bathroom and awaited the message from Anya which I knew would be coming. True enough, a message arrived.

I put the camera on video and opened the box. To my surprise there was a delicate silver bell inside connected to a small clip. It was the size of an earring, but there was only one.

"An earring Miss Anya? There is only one though"

"No. This is a very special item for a very special place.

"Miss?"

"You are wearing the crotchless panties as instructed?"

"Yes Miss"

"Good. Raise your skirt and show me"

I hiked my skirt and unashamedly exposed my hairless, pierced pussy to her, having become so accustomed to exposing myself to Anya upon demand.

"Good girl. Now attach the bell to your beautifully ringed clitty."

The clip was an odd mechanism and required some manual dexterity to open the catch. It slipped onto the ring easily and closed with a snap. A tiny piece of metal detached and fell to the floor. Instinctively I tried to open the clip again but it would not budge!

"Oh shit"

Anya laughed. "That little bell will remain on you all day and remind you to whom you belong. When you get home this evening you may cut it off. But only then. Do you understand?"

"Yes Miss. But I have an extremely important meeting today, this is not a good time for this!"

"It is a good time for me, and that is the only thing that should be important to you! Understand?"

"Yes Miss" I pouted

"Good. Tonight you will send me a video while you cut the bell off. Enjoy your day."

The time was 10.20. I checked my appearance and left the cubicle. The bell was not heavy but it's little movements made the ring tug at my clitty. It felt oddly nice and from time to time I would feel a delicious little tingle in my special places. It was kind of exciting to wear the item, one of Anya's nicer gifts. But before long, to my horror I realised that the bell made a delicate tinkling noise as I walked! I froze, petrified.

I experimented with shaking my hips and again the little bell gave a musical accompaniment. After some experimentation I found that I could just about stop the bell's noise if I clamped my thighs together, the downside of which was that it made it difficult to walk normally. Damn her little gift, it could ruin the day!

At 10.25 I left the bathroom and hobbled awkwardly to my desk under the ever curious gaze of Jess the receptionist. Could she hear the bell? I was pressing my handbag to my groin in a semi-successful attempt to dull the sound.

I gathered my laptop and headed for the boardroom. My boss, Gordon was at the door beckoning me to get a move on, and gave me an odd look as I walked with an unusual lilt.

"Do you need the toilet Miss Nystrom?"

"No Gordon, I'm OK"

"Ok. Setup your laptop at the head of the table, we'll begin in a couple of minutes."

I made it to the head of the table by cleverly shuffling to each person in turn and introducing myself. This allowed me to keep the devilish little bell under control while I made my way slowly around the table. However, that damn bell tinkled subtly as I sat. I searched the faces of the room for a clue that they had heard, but it seemed I had escaped detection. I felt hot and clammy, at any moment I ran the risk of being discovered wearing the naughty jewellery. I was trapped in the room for a good couple of hours, it was going to be a very stressful time, on all counts.

The meeting progressed well. Patterson and his team were very happy with the work we had done. However, just when I thought I had survived unscathed Gordon interceded.

"Miss Nystrom. Would you please draw out the remaining process on the white-board for Mr Patterson and his team?"

My heart almost stopped. Using the white-board would require me to stand and move. It would be hard to suppress the bell.

"I'm not sure I can sir." I tried to squirm out of the task.

"Nonsense. Don't be shy. You have worked extremely hard on it, don't be so modest."

"Indeed, I am very much looking forward to seeing your plan" chirped Mr Patterson. The room was full of smiling, expectant faces. There was no way I would be able to avoid going through with it.

I stood gingerly and took delicate steps towards the board. Every now and then the bell would escape from between my muffling thighs and tinkle gently. It took an age to get to the white-board.

"Right, off you go Miss Nystrom please"

Carefully I drew out my plans for the remainder of the case preparation. I had spent countless hours on the concept and in truth I relished drawing out my brain child for the gathered audience. The diagram filled the whole board to each of it's four corners. I presented my magnum opus with the flourish of an artist and oratory skills of a politician.

"What is that noise?" A female's curious voice behind me asked.

"Yes, I hear it too. Does someone have an alarm on? It is quite distracting from Miss Nystrom's presentation" came a male's voice.

In my rapture with the presentation I had forgot to control the bell between my legs. I became as a statue. Such an idiot to have lost control.

"Hmm. It's stopped. Thats better, please continue" the female voice encouraged.

The diagram had now spread to the top end of the white-board and I had to tiptoe a little to reach. It was impossible to control the bell like that and it would delicately chime despite my best efforts. And now the constant pulling on my clit ring was starting to stir feelings within me .. Inappropriate feelings! I had to freeze and bite my lip a couple of times to stifle a little whimper.

"There's that sound again. Really, this is very rude. Who is making that noise?"

The guests all looked at each other, and naturally no-one owned up to being the culprit. I wanted the ground to swallow me up. If I was discovered to be wearing a little bell attached to my freshly pierced clitoris I would be in a world of trouble, and my career would certainly grind to a halt. Yet, somehow I managed to complete my presentation to a round of a applause and congratulations. The Patterson team left the office very pleased indeed.

After a review session we left the boardroom and returned to our desks.

"Wait." Said Gordon. "There is that sound again. Miss Nystrom, is that you making the noise, what on earth is it?"

This was it. This was the moment when the shit would hit the fan. I paused, stuttered, desperately trying to think a way out of the situation. My hand had absently drifted to my jacket pocket and felt a bracelet which I had left there the other day. I bounced it in my hand and to my joy it make a metallic sound.

"Oh Gordon. I'm sorry, it looks like it was me after all! Look, there was a bracelet rattling in my pocket."

"Luckily for you Danielle the presentation went well enough despite the annoying noises. Please be more careful in future."

"Yes Gordon, sorry."

I jangled the bracelet to mask the sound of the bell as I headed back to my desk.

"Oh, and Danielle"

"Yes Gordon?"

"Great work today!"

For the rest of the day I made sure I spent as much time as possible at my desk. Thankfully Anya did not order me to make any further visits to the bathroom. Even the commute home was stress free, the hustle and bustle of life easily drowned out my musical accompaniment.

~~~~~

To celebrate the successful meeting I met Mum for dinner at an Italian restaurant in the city called Bella Italiano. The greeter showed us to our table, and we ordered a bottle of wine while we perused the menu.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly"

The food on the other tables looked fantastic and intoxicating aromas filled the room.

Mum and I caught up on recent events. Naturally I was very careful what I told her about my recent activities. If she knew half of what I'd been up to she would surely have a heart attack. I limited my anecdotes to work, gym, friends and other safe topics.

While we talked my attention was grabbed by a fleeting moment of recognition. Across the restaurant, talking to the greeter, was a tall man who suddenly became very familiar to me ... Lance!

Panicking I stuttered mid sentence. Even when Anya was not around, my shady second life had a nasty habit of catching up with me. What were the chances of seeing someone I knew in the thousands that lived and worked in the city. How could I detach myself from my kinky life when it kept encroaching on my normal life, sending it's whistle-blowing agents to tear down my facade of decency.

The greeter was pointing at our table. At any moment he would look over and see me, see his little kinky plaything from the club. He'd come over and my secret would be out in the most public way. My mother would listen as my secrets spilled out, learning what a freak her perfect daughter had become.

Thinking quickly I spilt a little wine on my lap trying my best to make it look like an accident.

"Oh damn" I acted "Sorry Mum, excuse me a minute, I need to clean up"

I rushed to the bathroom, looking in the opposite direction to where Lance was stood, shielding my profile with my hand.

Struggling to stem welling tears I burst through the door of the ladies bathroom. Thankfully the room was empty and I dived into the first stall. Quickly dropping my skirt and rubber knickers I was glad for the moment to sit and re-assess my situation.

I didn't like that my normal life was in almost constant jeopardy. Would I have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life? My paranoia kicked in once more. Who else out there knew me. So many people had seen me in The Lair and Surrender ... would I have to remember their faces so I could avoid them all? What if any of them knew Mum somehow? Or knew people I worked with. I had not fully considered what impact frequenting such places could have on my life.

Lance was out there in the restaurant. Mum would have told him we were ready to order, and he would be drawn to the table on my return. The walls were closing in on me, it was hard to breathe. I felt like a cornered animal. What a mess.

The restroom door hinges squeaked and someone entered the room. I stiffened and prayed that it was not Lance come to find me. There was the sound of a running tap and then the person left the room.

My body relaxed and I began to pee.

The sound of my stream hitting the metal pan seemed embarrassingly loud in the now empty restroom.

While my bladder emptied it occurred to me that something was wrong with the sound. It was clearly metallic, yet the toilet pans were ceramic. In the pit of my stomach I knew something was amiss.

Leaping up, I pulled up my rubber panties and skirt and looked down into the pan; and screamed. In the ceramic pan was a black rubber hooded head. A rubber panel covered the eyes and a second rubber panel covered the mouth, each secured by small buckles. But attached to the mouth panel was a metal funnel !! I heard a subtle mewing and gurgling as the last of my urine drained from the funnel into the mouth beneath.

"Jesus!" I baulked, stumbled and clawed at the lock on the stall door, but it would not budge.

The gurgling had stopped now. This had to be another hallucination, it was a physical impossibility for a person to be inside the toilet. Bolstered by my reasoning I looked back at the head. It's breath was whistling through the now empty funnel.

Unable to escape the stall, and with trembling hands, I carefully undid the buckles on the mouth piece and withdrew it along with the funnel. The stem of the funnel was surprisingly long and would have reached to the very back of the throat. With the mouth panel removed, I could see that it was a female inside the hood with the full lips and smooth complexion of a young woman.

"Help me. Please help me" she pleaded

"You're not real! Get out of my head!" I screamed, holding my temples.

A dribble of yellowy liquid bubbled from the corner of the girl's mouth. "Please help me" she gurgled

With tears of horror and pity I asked "How can I help you? I can't even see ninety percent of you, you're just a head!"

"Get me out of this hell, please don't let me go .. quickly before it is too late and I am lost forever!"

I watched and listened to the terrified head. Her pleas for help were becoming more and more distressed as if some terrible deadline was approaching. She was clearly distraught and desperate to escape some heinous fate.

The only thing available to leverage her by was the hood. I found some purchase under the neck piece and attempted to pull. Once the initial stretch the latex reached its elastic limit I could feel the resistance of the girls head. This was the only option available to me ... but as I pulled the hood ripped and peeled away from her head.

With her face now revealed, I stared in abject terror. I was looking at my own face. The woman was totally bald but I recognised myself without any doubt.

Suddenly there was a bubbling sound from the toilet, and a thick black liquid bubbled up from around her neck.

"Oh God, help me! Please help me !" she screamed, "I want out!!"

After flooding her open, screaming mouth, the liquid quickly rose and enveloped her whole head. Odd shapes were moving within the liquid. They looked almost claw-like, caressing and gripping her hairless head. When the liquid finally receded it took the claws and the girl with it ... flushed somewhere unspeakable ... leaving no evidence of her existence.

I thought of her words and the way she was drawn down into the inky blackness. Was the hallucination my mind's way of warning me to get out while I still could? I thought about how I was descending deeper into Anya's bizarre world, and if there would come a point of no return where it would be impossible to extricate myself. I shuddered as reality returned.

The stall lock was easily opened now and I fled the restroom. I looked at no one except Mum during my flight to safety. Before leaving the restaurant I gave her a kiss and lied that I'd received an urgent call from work and would have to cancel our dinner date.

I had reached a new low point in my life, lying to loved ones to cover my peccadilloes ... I hated myself more than ever at that moment.

story continued in part five
o0o