Gromet's Plaza
Latex Stories
Diane’s Tale
by rbbral
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© 2005 - rbbral - Used by permission
storycodes: M+/f; F/f; latex; bond; kidnap; slave; reluct; XX
Diane’s Tale by Rbbral
Note: I while ago I went to see the movie “Demonlover”. It was a cautionary tale about a woman involved in corporate espionage, who gets in way over her head. I would recommend it to any in the pervy community, despite the fact that much of what went on was not “consensual”. The lead was played by the cool but sensually stunning Connie Nielson, and as Diane she gets involved with the internet, Japanese anime and unwittingly an interactive SM site. The film has a truly haunting ending with Diane in some serious trouble (it was a French movie, so no happy Hollywood ending). Throughout the movie she had sought power and at the end she is a powerless pawn, to be played with, possibly for the rest of her life or until they tire of her, by forces well beyond her imagination. As is often the case it got me to thinking about what would have happened to Diane and, as I did after I watched another great, but somewhat strange French movie, “The Piano Teacher” (with the equally sublime and gifted Isabelle Huppert) I decided to stretch my fantasies and write my own sequel, just for the fun of it. For Diane’s story I have written it through her eyes. The first part is a synopsis of the movie, and if you haven’t seen it and don’t want to spoil your viewing then ignore the first part of this!
 

Part One

My name used to be Diane, and it seems like a long time ago now when all this happened. 

About a year ago, I think it was, the passage of time is hard to tell after what I have been through; I suppose you would have called me a corporate spy. Sounds very glamorous, but it wasn’t. I was approached by a company, Magnatronics, to spy for them by getting hired by a company called Volk. Volk were in the process of affiliating with and investing money in a company’s’ involvement in Japanese anime. The company was Demonlover, and Magnatronics (a rival) wanted to scuttle the deal. I was to be paid handsomely; money would go into an account in Lugano in Switzerland every month. 

It was important for me to move up within Volk and find out what Demonlover were up to. I realise that I will get no sympathy here but to get closer to the picture I began by drugging Karen, a high up administrator at Volk and had her abducted for 18 hours, and in the meantime I was raised to her position while she was away recovering! 

Karen’s two colleagues, Elise, her secretary, a winsome blonde who was very loyal to Karen and seemed to dislike me, and Herve, her superior who seemed to have the hots for me, were now my new associates, in fact I was now Elise’s superior and she didn’t like that at all. From Karen’s files I discovered that Demonlover had an affiliate website called Hellfire Club that was an interactive SM porn site. Once Volk were informed of this they would be out of the running, leaving it to Magnatronics (my secret client) to move in. In a meeting with Volk, Elaine, their raven haired representative and her greasy American boss Edward denied they had anything to do with Hellfire Club, but the dye was cast. 

Things however started to go very wrong when I went to Elaine’s room to get my bugging equipment back. When she returned early a huge fight ensued (there was millions of dollars running on this). I thought I had killed her, in the heat of the moment I tried to suffocate her with a pillow, however she recovered somehow and when I turned my back on her, she knocked me out. 

I woke up in my room and could not understand why there was no blood over me. Returning to Elaine’s room I found no Elaine and no signs of a struggle nor any blood. Things were indeed getting strange. Was this a dream? Did the struggle ever happen?

Then Elise called me and told me to meet her, I did so and during a meeting in my car she threatened me, she said on behalf of Karen, with a gun. She said that they were trying to warn me off, that this was getting too dangerous for me. I went to Karen’s office that evening to try and see if I could find more about this Hellfire site. I realised that the passwords in her file were her own passwords, not those of Edward or Elaine.

I entered the site. All sorts of images of bound and tortured women leapt onto the scream. Some were animated and some were real, it was hard to tell. It seemed that there were ten or eleven sites each containing a woman in some kind of bondage or torture scenario. At once I was horrified but also transfixed. I saw a girl in a blue latex suit looking a little like Emma Peel, and looking up at the camera which would have been in the corner of the room. 

Then I saw a girl sitting on a metal bed dressed all in black latex, including a full head mask with small pin holes for the eyes and a slit at her mouth. She had a studded collar locked around her neck. This was site number 8. This was “Zora” and the site asked me if I wanted to see more of her, I clicked yes and watched as two henchmen tossed her into a bath of water and nearly drowned her. Then I saw her being pulled into a room in her rubber suit, I never saw her face, it was always masked, and she was picked up by one man and tossed onto an iron bed. Following that she was wrapped in plastic wrap and what looked like nearly suffocated. At the end of this, the screen asked me if I wanted to torture Zora! All I had to do was click yes, give them my credit card number and describe what I wanted done to her. It was as easy as that! My mind was in turmoil, and I had to think this through, it was hard to fathom.

So, if you have the Internet (doesn’t everyone?) and if you surf porn (doesn’t everyone?) you can find the Hellfire Club, it can’t be that difficult. And here’s the “fun” bit. It’s interactive! You pay your money, nice and easy by credit card, and type in a fantasy for your heroine. Then no matter how weird and terrifying it is, they “act” it out for you. Torture, bondage, electrical play (I saw a woman dressed as Wonder Woman strapped to the iron bed which then seemed to be attached to an electric current), mummification or Zora accommodating one, two or three men – you just pay your money, and you’re in charge! Why would these women do this? Were they very well paid? It looked so real, how could they fake this? Where did they get these women? All these questions were swirling around in my mind as I looked at the screen and didn’t notice Karen enter behind me. 

She said she accessed the site on occasion and yes, she was fascinated by it. Wasn’t I? I was, but didn’t tell her that, and allowed her to continue. She looked a little sad, and she said she came here to warn me off (the same as Elise had) but now it was too late, she couldn’t help me now. Demonlover knew I could access Hellfire Club through their site and now I was a risk and a risk they must “control”. She said she had been with Demonlover as their spy at Volk for some time (another spy!). She left leaving me a tape to view. 

At home I watched it. I saw myself unconscious being lifted up off the floor by Elise! I’m carried back to my room, cleaned up while other men clean up Elaine’s room and take her body away. Is she dead? I don’t know, but there is no movement from her. The tape is incriminating me; it seems to show I am a murderer. The spy has been spied upon and caught. 

Elise called me and offered me a “deal”. I of course had no option. She came round with her henchman and I agreed to all the conditions. What choice did I have? Elise; little, young, innocent blonde Elise, who looks about 18, is also with Demonlover, and is now very much in charge of me! Any peep to Volk about what Demonlover are up to, and anything about my involvement, then Volk get the tape, and so do probably the police.

Elise is so cool now; she’s 18 going on 40. She says Demonlover need a little more insurance and so they take me for a ride, Elise hoods and handcuffs me and then tells me they knew from the start that I was working for Magnatronics, and they even know about my Lugano account. 

So, as I was “spying” on Volk, they were watching me all the time – except for when I was surprised by Elaine. In the darkness of the hood I realise now how powerless I am. I played the power game and lost, lost it all. They take me somewhere in the country and down into a cool dingy cellar. The door closes behind me; Elise had left me, no words of pity or sympathy, I m on my own, that is for sure. 

The hood is pulled off and I am in a cellar with white painted walls, two men are there and one has a hypodermic, and roughly pulls my handcuffed arm to him. I struggle and he says, don’t worry; we won’t kill you, as you are worth more to us alive! The next two hours pass in a blur; I remember figures, cameras, several men, lights. They wanted all the information and would take their time over it. They asked me many questions, the drug was good, I answered everything they asked. They filed all this, their bosses clearly needed solid proof of all the evidence. After a while they stopped all the questions and had their entertainment.

There was an old solid wood kitchen table in the room and soon they had me over it, my panties down and off. I was still cuffed and a bit dopey, so I offered no resistance. They were courteous enough, or maybe they had been ordered, to wear condoms. As one filmed, the others had their fun, one pushed my legs wide with his, and held me down with a hand. My head lay to one side so that the camera could get a good view. Then slowly one screwed me, back and front, while the other flapped his rubber covered cock in my face and then slid it into my mouth. After they were satisfied they asked more questions, the same ones and then different ones. They didn’t hit me hard but slapped me a couple of times to keep me alert. Soon they had everything they wanted.

I was returned still drugged to my flat. I remember vaguely Elise putting a plaster on my arm where they had stuck the needle in and the pecking me on the cheek. I’m sure I remember this though it was s strange thing for her to do. Elise advised me of my new position at the company and told me she had already contacted Magnatronics to tell them that I no longer worked for them.

So my cover had been sprung, I will not hear from them again. I am a drone, I am nobody. I’m now just her secretary, a minion. I walked around in a daze. But there was a further twist to my decline. 

Herve still had the hots for me, and we went to dinner. We nearly had an affair in Tokyo, but I managed to persuade him off. Over dinner he now tells me that he too works for Demonlover, and Elise is his assistant. I am now too dulled to be shocked at this. It seems everyone is a spy. 

He took me back to my place; I don’t know why I let him in but after we have a gentle love making session he than starts to become more aggressive. I don’t know why, I never will, it is all so strange, but feeling threatened I shoot him as he assaults me. There is no question about him being dead, none at all. He lies at my feet. Maybe under other circumstances I could claim rape, well he was raping me, but Demonlover have the tape of my other “murder”. There are times when you realise that you have no cards left, none; you are now completely in someone else’s power; to do with as they please, and you are willing to go along with it!

I called Elise. Who else could I call?

I am already in her pocket, this innocent faced little blonde, who I now hate for the power she exerts over me, but there is nothing I can do, except go along. The clean-up crew tidy up after me, and they take Herve away. There will be no sign of a struggle. Herve’s body will be washed up in the Seine, an apparent motiveless drug crime. But she seems genuinely sorry, for me, not for Herve. She tells me it is prison for life, without a doubt, or to go with them, on their terms, as one of their internet starlets. Nothing could be worse than prison, right? So I agree, and they say it is a good idea if they get me out of the country. So on their jet, I now see how much money Demonlover (and Hellfire Club) have, and they fly me to the States. They keep me nicely doped up, they don’t want a scene and at Customs they explain I am suffering from a flu bug. But I am compliant, after all this is better than prison, right?

Next day, I am on a helicopter over the Texan desert. Edward and Elise are with me. It is clear that Elise is no small cog in the Demonlover outfit. Edward slips me another pill, I’m in such a hole of powerlessness and lack of self-esteem - I am nothing now - that I take it without comment. We land in the desert and Edward and Elise (now all cool confidence and in control of her little package – me) half carry me to an adobe house. 

When I awake, I am wearing a tight blue rubber suit, a suit identical to the one worn by the young woman on the Hellfire Club site that I saw earlier. I am wearing a wig like hers, and my face is painted like hers. On the floor are pictures of me dressed like this, taken in a session when I was probably so drugged I didn’t remember it. I look like Emma Peel. 

It should have dawned on me before, and maybe it did but I didn’t dare to acknowledge it but Elise, little innocent Elise, and the creepy Edward, are involved not just in Demonlover but also Hellfire Club. More important, I have been “recruited” for Hellfire Club stardom!

So I make a bid for escape, and what a sight I must have been careening through the desert, driving the car like a madwoman dressed in my blue rubber suit. And then came the terrible accident and the aftermath, the car tipping over and my captors killing two innocent people, possible eye-witnesses, two more lives that could be chalked up to me. Why didn’t I run? Right into the desert in a rubber suit with two armed men chasing me. No, I just stood there in shock, as they took me back. It was then that I realised just how deep in it I now was. 

They obviously figured I was too valuable to keep in the wilds of Texas, so I was soon back on their plane, doped up, and back to Paris. Now I am taken somewhere outside Paris, at a place in the country, possibly where I was taken originally and drugged and beaten. But there is little hope of escape here. I was brought here by Elise, hooded, cuffed and drugged. As I was pulled from the car, she gripped my arm and whispered good luck, again another strange thing to say. I didn’t see her again. The three minders took me to my room in the basement. This is my new home. Then they showed me my new costume, the black latex suit and full mask of Zora. I am the new Zora! It’s odd; you would think that I would be frightened and horrified at my predicament. But I wasn’t, really. They left me and I fingered the oily black suit. How long ago was it that the previous girl had worn this as Zora? Where was she now? Less than an hour later they ordered me to wear the suit, for Zora was in high demand. 

I didn’t’ resist or fight them, after all I had volunteered for this hadn’t I? In all my business encounters I had always been the dominant, but now I was the true submissive. Is this what I really wanted? I volunteered for this. I was not naïve, I could have gone to jail, I maybe would have got a lesser sentence, pleading that Herve raped me. But….I chose this, I chose this. I could have chosen the other…but I didn’t. 

After powdering myself I drew up the tight rubber suit, over my feet, legs and torso, it slips over my skin smoothly and grips me tight. There was a double zip through the crotch and up my back. I pushed my arms through the sleeves and into the gloves, I would get used to doing this many times in the future. I am very flexible and pulled the zip up to the back of my neck. In the mirror admired my tall, slim body, shining like a black marble statue. This certainly wouldn’t disappoint Zora’s adoring and cruel fans. I ran my hands over my body, sleek and smooth. 

What a strange destiny I had arrived at - from dominant corporate spy to submissive rubber doll!

When two of then came for me, they cuffed my hands behind my back and led me down the corridor to my room for my first “interactive scene” on the net. The room was the same that I had seen before on the net – iron bed, white walls and a camera in the corner. I sat on the bed, ready for my premiere performance. The minder spread my mask in front of me (yes, it was mine now). Where was the girl whose face last touched this mask? It did not do any good to think of things like that. He did not have to force it over my head, I dipped my face into it; the cool cling pressed into my cheeks and forehead. I breathed in the pungent odour and peered out of the pinholes, I could see out all right, but no one would be able to recognise my eyes within. He zipped it down the back, and my head, like the rest of me was now embraced in the gradually warming grip of rubber. There was a small mouth hole, but big enough, I thought, for a gag, or a cock. I sat there, looking up at the camera, waiting for them to return and wondering who was out there watching me, ready for my first “performance.”

Chapter Two

I can’t expect you to pity me, well not much. I drugged someone, had her kidnapped and stuffed in a trunk for 18 hours in order to take over their position. Then I smothered a woman to death in a fight in her hotel room, and then I killed a man who I believed was raping me. Yes, I invited him in, but things, as they say, got out of hand. 

These kinds of actions do not invite sympathy. And now of course I am paying for these sins. 

So who is Zora? Well, as the saying goes, she is anyone you want her to be, she can do, or more to the point, you can do anything you want to her. You dream up the scenario and you pay your money and Zora, and her not so gentle minders, will oblige. 

And what about you, the viewers, the clients? You look down on me from the camera in the corner of the cellar through the lens of the handicam and what am I to you? I know you have fantasies, we all do, some stranger that others, and some of us can’t distinguish between them and real life sometimes. And I stare back through the mask. Do you think I am here because I want to be, enduring all this? You think that I like this game that is being played? Do you care? Do you think that I volunteered for this? Well, in some way, and I have to chuckle at the irony of it, I suppose I did. It was this, or prison for life, well there’s not much difference really. 

So what is my routine? Well, there are six or seven rooms in the cellar. I’m the only subject here, I know there are other girls on the Hellfire web site, but I don’t know where they are, in other countries possibly. But we’re a self-contained unit here, oh yes. I have three minders and more on call if necessary. I have a good-sized room with bath/shower, good-sized bed, TV and closet; fairly spartan but better than prison, not much though. There are no windows but there seems to be plenty of fresh air. There’s a closet for basic clothes, I don’t need many of course so just t-shirts, pants and underwear. 

As Zora I have my catsuits, several of them. They get replaced if they get ripped during the scenes. This has happened, more than once. And there are the masks, with a hole for the mouth and pinholes for the eyes. Zora always wears her mask on the site. It of course protects them from disclosing my identity, and of course it dehumanises me. Zora is a cartoon, remember, or she might as well be. The clients probably don’t want to put a face to this “goddess”, as she is abused again and again. 

So how does it work? Very easily, really, when a request is received, it is reviewed by the “team” who decide if it can be done, if I will be able to do it. Then between them they plan the scene. I am never informed. It takes away the spontaneity, my reactions, and my fight. And anyway I’m not a person, remember, just an internet rubber doll or mannequin to be played with and abused. But I survive, always. I must, for at least the moment. I don’t think they are into snuff; there’s no point in killing off the star, accidentally or otherwise. There’s too much money to be made off her. 

But I wonder if any of the “clients” ponder on who I am, or if they care. And I ponder on the Zora before me, the rubber clad woman I saw on Karen’s computer, the woman whose place I have taken. Who got the better of the deal? What happened to her, and where is she now? Did she escape, if so how was it possible? Or did she become expendable? I have tried not to think of that too much. 

I am looked after, sort of anyway. I am fed three times a day and there’s an exercise bike and universal gym in the corner of my room; they want me in shape, not a podgy Zora stuffed into a rubber suit. On occasion I have been taken upstairs and outside. I have always been naked (clearly I’m at a big house with grounds) and cuffed and with blacked out contact lenses, so I’m blind. They then attach a chain to my collar and I am forced to run along behind some kind of golf cart. I hear then laughing at my predicament, but I get air, sun and exercise and relative to my “exercise” in the scenes on my site, it is a wonderful feeling. 

I don’t talk to the minders - never, those are the orders. They talk amongst themselves in French, almost as if I am not there, not human, which to them I am not, they certainly don’t want to get to know me, or think of me as a human being with feelings. If they did that they might not feel so inclined to do the things they do to me! So I live in silence, I talk to myself – just to make me remember I still have a voice. 

On average I have between four or five scenes a week - sometimes more. That doesn’t sound much but sometimes I need time to recover, and they also need to plan for the next one. Zora seems, unfortunately for me, to be very popular. Who are these people who conjure up my degradation and pain? Have they any idea what they are doing? Well, the minders do hurt me sometimes. I am often tied in excruciatingly tight positions, hogtied or rolled into a ball, or folded over with wrists tied to ankles. I am reasonably flexible but after a while it can become very sore. I have been wrapped in cling film until I can’t believe I can breathe – and left to wriggle out of it, which obviously I can’t do. I’ve been strapped to a St. Andrews cross until my arms and legs are stretched to their extremes; and to a vaulting horse and then paddled and whipped on my buttocks, thighs and even my breasts. Even with the rubber suit on it is very painful. Sometimes I moan and even scream, they like this, but sometimes they will gag me with a large rubber ball. They say some of the clients like that, hearing this masked woman moan behind her gag.

There is little straight sex – this is an SM site after all, but on a customer will pay to see me partake in some scene or other. This will involve me blowing one of the minders, or sometimes one of them will take me in the rear, sometimes it will be twosome or even a threesome. Over the months I got used to having a cock stuffed into my mouth and one in my rear, there is no chance of me refusing as they usually ring gag me first and then just stuff it in. I can even tell who is doing what, so used to it that I am. I have to swallow their cum of course although sometimes they like to withdraw and squirt it over my mask then smear it over my face. It is humiliating of course but the mask provides me with my anonymity, so I survive. When whipping me they often use butt plugs to keep my rear nice and loose, ready to welcome the next cock that will fuck me there. 

Rarely do they pay to see me have “normal’ sex. Then there is the electric play, I knew from memory that the other women are subjected to electro shock therapy scenes. When I wear my all-over rubber suit they don’t do this to me. But I have also have suits with cutouts at the breasts and pussy and my minders do like to attach electrodes to my nipples and vaginal lips and give me a few shots of electricity. Of course it is excruciating and I feel as if I am on fire. I am always amazed however at the originality of some of my “fans”.

After it is all over I am led or sometimes carried back to my room to recover. They sometimes leave me, or strip the mask and suit off me and leave me to clean and powder it later, and then shine it up. They all like it brightly shining, if I don’t do it right then I am punished, like for everything else I don’t do right, I am punished. 

I didn’t mention that very early on, when I was wearing the suit with the cutouts a customer gleefully requested that I be ringed. So a scene was set up where my nipples were pierced with one-inch diameter steel rings. The process was very painful and once the pointed end of the ring was pushed through my nipple it was squeezed into the socket of the other end and quickly spot-welded together. The rings are thick and will take a strong cutter to get them off now, if I ever get the chance. To top this, another customer requested that my labia be pierced and ringed on both sides and this was undertaken shortly after. If I thought the nipple rings were painful, the labial rings were even more so. So now I have four rings, two opposite each other and on occasion they like to pull them together and seal me shut with an oval locking ring, all I can do is pee, with difficulty.

They also chose to have my pussy denuded - not simply shaven but with a strong depilatory cream applied over four or five sessions I am now permanently bald there. To be honest I don’t mind this too much, compared to all the other punishments I have endured it is really nothing. 

You get used to things in life, no matter how hard; abuse, discomfort, pain even. The rubber clothing is fine and warms up to my body heat nicely. I like the cling on my body, it flatters all the curves, and I can see why fetishists like it so much and am surprised it has never really made it into the mainstream. It also provides me with some protection, not much but it helps. 

One afternoon, after about three months, I was in my room, readying myself for another scene. I was in my rubber suit and my hands were handcuffed behind me, as ordered. The door was unlocked and it was opened. I was expecting one of my minders, but in walked Elaine! She came into the room with a confident smile on her face, enjoying my reaction, which was one of complete and utter shock. I was sitting on my bed and she sat down on the chair opposite me, crossing her shapely legs. She chuckled.

“Well, this is a long way from being the super spy isn’t it?” I didn’t reply for I was too shocked. I hated her of course but what was the point in wasting energy getting upset over it. 

“Cat got your tongue? Well I’ll save you the need for the questions. Put simply, Zora (she called me Zora, and she smiled as she did this) you didn’t kill me, I had a bad concussion and loss of blood but I survived, to wreak my revenge, which is of course this. They did the filming in the hotel room and decided that as far as you were concerned I was dead. Much better to blackmail you that way, and you of course fell for it. So you gave yourself to us, voluntarily, for no provable reason! I still chuckle at the thought.” 

I sat there not moving, and I felt a tear rise and then fall down my cheek, this was almost as painful to know as the pain that has followed. It was for her the cherry on the cake. Is it not enough to force someone into enduring humiliation, to giving their life away? But then to know that I had volunteered for it, fearing the alternative, and then for them to tell me there was no terrible alternative, and that I needn’t have had to! I couldn’t think of a more cruel irony! I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t, I sat there in my tight rubber suit, I wasn’t embarrassed being handcuffed before her like that, I was long passed that – after what I had endured when being filmed. She was still very cool, smiling at me, looking me up and down, and gloating a little. I was past hurting her; she knew that, for she had won, I was defeated, crushed. 

She coolly stood and approached me; she raised my chin and looked down at me, then wiped the tear spots from my rubber-covered breasts. She saw me shudder and smiled again. 

“We, Hellfire, are very pleased with you, Zora.” It was Zora again, reinforcing the fact that Diane was no more, and of course she was right. “You get more hits than any of our other women, many more and you are great on the site, we are very pleased with you. We like to watch you.” I could not resist not talking any longer; I had only spoken to myself in the last three months after all.

“So, do you enjoy your job…abducting women to be abused on your website? Eh? Changing their lives forever.” She didn’t seem put out by my charge, she smiled wryly and said.

“You brought this on yourself; you put your head in the noose. Corporate spies should be aware of the consequences. You would have killed me; you nearly did, so too bad. Don’t blame me. Anyway..” she smiled, “you volunteered!” 

I lowered my head, she was right of course, I did, greed and power and arrogance had got me into this, and stupidity, blind stupidity. 

“Touche.” I said. “So why are you here? To gloat? To make sure I am still healthy to provide you with lots of money?”

“We know you are healthy, Edward and I get weekly reports on you. But we think we can maximise your talents further. We are happy with your performances, Zora. But the thing is this. You are a very beautiful woman, oh yes, and you spend your whole time in front of the camera rubber masked. Now we all find this very sexy and perverted, but we think that we can create another character. We are going to open up another site for you, only you will be unmasked. We still don’t want you being recognised, faint possibility though that is, so you will be wearing a lot of make-up, perhaps a little slutty. We are thinking along the lines of an updated “Perils of Pauline” the old serial movie series. The old damsel in distress always goes down well. Each story will maybe have three or four episodes at the end of each one you will be in some sort of trouble – captured and tortured or whatever – not much fun for you of course (but here she didn’t seem too concerned for my well being) and the customers pay to see how, if, you survive for the next episode! We have already thought up a couple of stories, you as a nurse in an institution captured by a couple of the inmates and subjected you to all kinds of unpleasant attentions. And you as a maid in a hotel captured by one of the guests or a schoolgirl punished by a jealous friend. They are pretty limitless.” She sat back on her chair, quite happy with herself. I was stunned.

“You have to be kidding! You’ll kill me, yes you really will, I can’t be abused, thrashed and prodded and plugged any more that I am now, I just couldn’t take it.” Yet she smiled her confident smile of someone who has all the cards and won’t take no for an answer. 

“Sure you can, we’ll cut back on Zora a little but you’ll be a nice little money earner for us here. Anyway this is not negotiable; you gave up your rights and powers three months ago. By the way you will be glad to here we, Demonlover, did our deal with Volk so, no thanks to your efforts, we are all going to make lots of money, legitimately in this instance. Karen is well, and so is Elise, back to working for her. I think she is looking a little forlorn. She seems to have had a bit of a conscience over setting you up and sending you off. She still works for Demonlover but her spheres of influence have been reduced. I’ve got a funny feeling she actually might miss you, but who knows. She said the other day that she thought we had been a bit harsh on you, seeing as you didn’t’ kill me, and of course those folks killed in the desert wasn’t your fault. And the others in the office thought it was very strange you disappearing like that, but then women do that don’t they?” She smiled at that, knowing she was fully responsible for some “disappearances.” I said suddenly.

“So what happened to the original Zora?” She seemed a little taken aback.

“Oh, she just moved on…..to other roles.”

“I don’t believe you, I think maybe the boys got a bit over excited and it went too far and they killed her and I was the perfect replacement, after all Zora is always masked. You could kill me and just get another girl, perfect arrangement really.”

“Believe what you want, but you are wrong, the only killer here is you, think on that.”

“I was being raped, it was an over reaction, yes; anyway it doesn’t matter now, you have the tape of me there; and you clearing up and taking Herve away and me completely out of it.” She leaned forward in her chair, speaking almost conspiratorially.

“Well actually, we wanted to thank you for knocking off Herve. Yes, really, he was a prick, and a loose cannon, we were getting worried about him, and we all wanted him out. We just didn’t know how to do it. You did us all a favour, thanks. It was very convenient, two birds with one stone! So he’s now at the bottom of the Seine, the result of a drug deal or mugging gone bad.” 

“Your idea of repaying me a favour is a little odd.”

“True.” She smiled. “Hey, you look really good in that. No wonder they are lining up to realise their fantasies on you.”

“Have you said all you have to say? I’ve got a “performance” to do. Don’t want to keep the folks waiting.” 

“I’ve got to hand it to you. I despised you when you infiltrated Volk and almost killed our deal. I did enjoy pulling you down, the Ice Queen. But I admire you here, I really do, we’ve had girls here try to escape, fight and fight and then crumble. But you, you’re tougher than when you came here, and I may say so, more human. On the other hand…..maybe you get a bit of a kick out of it!” 

That cut deep. I had no real hesitation in killing Elaine or Herve, both were based on survival, one a drag out fight (Elaine would have killed me first if she could) and the other was fear and panic. But I did want the power, and the castle I sought to conquer was made of sand. 

“You may be right, I guess some may think I deserve what I’m getting, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. Not much of a life really, but I don’t need pity from you. You finished?” She nodded, turned and knocked on the door and the minder opened it. 

“I’ll come and see you again…whether you like it or not.” She took my mask from the minder and approached me, as I still sat on the bed. She spread it open.

“Showtime!” She said with a leer, I dipped my head after one last look, as defiant as I could, not easy dressed in rubber with my hands cuffed behind me. She slipped the mask smoothly over my head, folded my hair underneath and zipped it down to my neck. It was almost a comfort, being anonymous again. She locked the collar around my neck, then stood back and, as the minder took me, Zora, away to my next “adventure”, she gently slapped my rubber covered bottom and left, without a look back. 

Part Three

And so my life, such as it was, continued. I was still Zora, but now once every three weeks or so they dreamt up a “damsel in distress” story for me to endure. As Elaine had promised, there didn’t seem to be a limit on their imaginations. I was a maid in a hotel room bound, gagged and assaulted, a schoolgirl spanked on her bare behind and a nurse tied to an examination table having her lower regions inspected and played with by two gowned and masked “doctors” while another placed vacuum pumps on my exposed breasts. 

During these sessions I was unmasked but I was forced to put on lots of make-up – plenty of lipstick and eye shadow and once I wore a blonde wig. So even my friends (where are they now?) would not recognise me. The costumes were a bit whorish, which I guess was the point and they obviously spent some money on the rooms, for they had sets in the basement all geared out as an operating theatre, hotel room and office. 

My life on site as Zora also continued. Zora the super spy, what a laugh! When the minders got tired of tying me up and doing their worst with me, they simply found some others to take their place. I was still fed well, but was never allowed freedom of any kind. I don’t know if they drugged the food and drink, but I wasn’t given any pills or injections, which I suppose was a relief. They could just as easily have turned me into some kind of junkie. 

Then about six months into my new “life” I got another visitor. I was again prepared for another session as Zora, dressed in my rubber suit and cuffed behind my back when the door opened and in walked Elise. 

My feelings for Elise were different to that of Elaine. Elise had been in it from the start and had sucked me in beautifully. She had been the one who had hooded and cuffed me and taken me to be drugged and beaten up to get all the information they needed. She had been the one who had accompanied me to Mexico, and then after I tried to escape, to my life here. But she had also been the one who had warned me I was getting too close to Demonlover and she had looked after me when I came out of my drugged state in Paris. She was the one who persuaded Volk to keep me on, working as her secretary; Karen would have been happy to see me go. Then everything went awry with Herve and it was Elise I called to “clean up” after me. And then of course I was in her debt, and this was the payment. 

So I had somewhat mixed feelings for her. On the one hand she seemed fragile and almost innocent but on the other I knew she was still with Demonlover as a mole in the Volk organisation. I remembered what Elaine had said about her looking forlorn and seeming to miss me, and feeling guilty about setting me up. Well she was here now, maybe I would find out. 

The door closed behind her and she came in and sat down on the same chair that Elaine had sat on three months previously. She had the rubber mask in her hands and she seemed preoccupied with it; I waited for her to say something. She was still a pretty thing, short blonde hair, nice clean complexion and a firm young body. Then she looked up at me. 

“Diane, you know I never thought it would end up like this. If I said I was sorry it had, I don’t expect you would believe me. Karen of course is quite content at your demise, and Elaine too, but well, you never did me any harm. When I took you out to the chateau to be drugged, well that was just orders, I didn’t realise they would mess with you so much. And the trip to Mexico, that was Edward’s idea, he pretty much runs Hellfire. I genuinely thought they would give you the shock treatment for a few days and then scare you away, so you wouldn’t trouble them again, after all, you knew a lot and were a threat to them. But, well, I didn’t think they would keep you like this for so long.” 

She opened a packet of cigarettes and offered me one; I waggled my tethered arms and said.

“I’ve given up anyway, they don’t allow it here. Well I guess some good came out of all this.” I looked at her wryly. “So have you come to gloat too? Come to see me close up to make sure they haven’t killed me off yet?” She looked a little hurt at my stinging comments, and that pleased me. 

“No, no I haven’t. As I said I came to explain my…….feelings.”

“Well you sure took your time over it. I’ve been here for six months now.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve been watching you on the site. Karen enjoys watching you, but I can’t watch too much, seeing you beaten and then blowing those guys or getting it in the ass. Look I’m sorry, I really am. Does it really hurt; do these men hold back at all, how much of this is faked? The rubber suit must protect you a bit.”

“My, that’s a lot of questions. Why all of a sudden the interest? Getting a guilty conscience?” She looked rather sheepish at this shot of mine. “The suit helps a bit, but believe me very little is faked. Don’t you have any imagination? I’m just a piece of meat now, which has to be tenderised fairly frequently! Under this suit I’m bruised and red, and being suffocated and mummified can be quite frightening, although I don’t think they want to kill me off…..yet. I’m too valuable for them alive.”

She nodded, confirming what Elaine had said; I was a nice little money earner for them. Then she started to look at me more closely.

“You will probably hate me for saying this but you do look great in that suit, it looks as if it was painted on you.”

“Yeah, the suits are fine, I’m used to them now, the rubber does give me some protection, and with the mask on, well, I prefer the anonymity really. The body and the mind do adapt, I’ve actually had an orgasm while being filmed through there. I won’t say I have associated pain with pleasure but the fact is, if you are doomed to this life you try and take some pleasure where you can. Don’t feel sorry for me Elise, I don’t want your pity. Why don’t you go back to your comfortable life and leave me to mine, whatever that is. I’ll survive, well, for as long as they want me to, I suppose.”

She did look genuinely sorry, for me or herself for getting me into this, I don’t know.

“Well, there doesn’t seem to be anything I can say to make you believe I am genuinely sorry for the way it has worked out.”

“Yeah, well, words are cheap Elise, try some actions!” I threw out this challenge just for the hell of it. She seemed to think on this

“Can I get you anything?” she said somewhat sadly. 

“Like what, some books, knitting, how about, let me see…….freedom! What chance is there that I will ever get out of this, eh? No, I’ll be here until I’m forty, or until they find someone better or younger? I’ve quite a life to look forward to here, wrapped in rubber (which is not too bad at all really) tied up and beaten and invaded in all my orifices. Look I have a performance in a few minutes which no doubt you will watch and enjoy (here she shook her head) so put on my mask and you can go.” I stood and she tentatively approached, spread out the mask and as I dipped my head she pulled it over me, running her palms over my head and smoothing it out. Then she zipped it down to my collar. 

Then she did something that surprised me and something I didn’t find unpleasant. She ran her hands slowly over my suit, starting at my shoulders, down my chest, then my waist and my buttocks and thighs. It was very strange as she did this in almost an asexual way, as if feeling the rubber rather than me inside it. She was almost innocent in her movements and yet I couldn’t help but shiver a little. She stared at me and placed her hand on my rubber-covered cheek, gave me a sad smile and turned to the door. In bravado I said.

“Got your jollies, did you? A nice free feel?” She turned as the minder came in.

“I didn’t see you fighting me off. Bye Diane, I will see you again.” 

She was right, as she walked away, I realised that I didn’t fight her off….because that was the first tender moment I had had with another human being for over six months, and I wanted more. After all we are only human. 

As I was led away by my minder away for my next endurance test, I began to kick myself for being so short with her. Maybe she did feel guilty and wanted to make some reparations, and I of course snubbed her. I had good reason to, but even under these circumstances it is probably stupid to turn away from an olive branch, however late it is offered. 

I then hoped she meant what she had said about seeing me again. I thought about this as they led me down the corridor, yes, I would like to see her again

Chapter Four

My routine continued for the next couple of weeks, I was Zora again and my other roles diminished for the time being. And then things took another turn. One afternoon I was led to my usual dungeon room. I was suited and masked as usual, but with a new suit, this one with cut-outs for my breasts which were squeezed and pushed out provocatively with the nipple rings shining in the bright lights.

As I entered I was surprised to see another woman in the room. She was about my size and also dressed in latex from head to foot. The suit had red and white diamond shapes like a harlequin and she was fully masked with a white helmet and red surrounding her mouth and eyes. She looked quite stunning for she had a fine figure and was wearing high-heeled ankle boots in red leather. 

She had a leather paddle in one hand and she pointed it at the vaulting horse. My minders quickly bent me over the horse and strapped me down; my legs were stretched wide and my latex covered rear felt very vulnerable. Obviously she wasn’t a new captive for she was doing the ordering around. Maybe the scenario requested by a client was that she was some other super spy and was my nemesis. It didn’t really matter to me, the end result would be the same; I was to be taught another lesson!

What was interesting was that she dismissed the two minders and so we were left together. I knew better than to say anything and I could hardly move at all. She took her time, walking around me, checking the straps. The cameras and the microphones were obviously on but she said nothing as I lay on the horse in front of her, the sacrificial lamb. She moved her hands over me in a sensual way that I did not find unpleasant at all, but I knew what was coming. 

Then she laid into me with the paddle on my cheeks and thighs. I am pretty used to this and it was no worse than I had had before, but after ten minutes or so she stopped and knocked on the door. As I was taking a breather, the minders released me and then took me to the St.Andrews cross and proceeded to strap me spread-eagled to it. My arms and legs were stretched out in an X shape and straps attached at ankles, calves, thighs, waist, under my bare breasts and along my arms. When finished the minders left and I was left with Harlequin (for that is what I had chosen to call her) again. 

She approached me; I tried to look through the eyes of my mask into hers but could detect nothing behind her clear lenses. Again she laid her hands over me, feeling my thighs and then my bare breasts and then she rubbed her fingers over my covered pussy. This was certainly strange, I found it very arousing, despite my powerless position, or maybe because of it. This had never happened to me before either while I was here as their captive or before with another woman and this woman was really quite skilled. As I began to become aroused however she stopped, and then proceeded to paddle my exposed breasts and my erect nipples. 

I tried not to yell through the pain but just groaned. Then she unzipped my crotch zip and as I was so stretched out my pussy popped out like a flower under the sun. She stopped paddling my breasts; they were red now and on fire. She leaned against me and I felt a rubber covered finger move up and down my labia and then slide in, finding my bud. Then her lips, pushed out slightly by the tight mask she had on, were on mine. Her tongue briefly explored my mouth and I reciprocated, I did not have any idea what was going on. Her fingers were expert in their attentions and I could feel my moisture down there. My breasts and my cheeks were still sore but I seemed to be in another world now.

But she wasn’t finished. She squatted down between my legs and I held my breath as I felt her warm wet tongue run up and down my moist slit, and then she moved inside. No one had ever pushed my buttons like that. I knew we were being filmed and we were going out over the net but I didn’t care, I had been a captive now for over six months and this was a moment when I was able to gain some simple pleasure and I was not going to miss it. After I had come (twice) she stood up and took a nipple ring between a finger and thumb of each hand. With a smile she twisted them and I yelped. Quickly however she clamped her lips over mine, stifling my cries. I could taste my cum on her lips as she ground into me. The pain and the pleasure were an intoxicating mix. She stood back, took a long look at me then turned and left. The minders came in and I was returned to my quarters, my session over for the day. 

I was perplexed at this turn of events. Someone must have requested Zora be “assaulted’ like this, but where did they get Harlequin from, and who was she? She was certainly talented at the arts of Sapphic love but also she was no slouch at being a domina. Life was beginning to get better, of course I was still a prisoner but even in captivity there are degrees of pain and pleasure. 

A couple of days later we were to meet again, in another scenario with a twist. This time I was stretched backwards on the horse, again wearing my suit with breast cutouts. The legs of the horse had been lowered and my head (facing upwards) and exposed labia were conveniently at the height of her crotch. She again dismissed the minders and began by smoothing her hands over my supine frame. 

She paddled, not too hard, my boobs and then slid a thumb inside my pussy and rubbed my bud. Two fingers meanwhile eased inside my rear, I tried to clench my cheeks but she simply ran her fingers in a circle against my sphincter and then eased them in. Then she leant over and pressed her lips against mine, and I opened my mouth to accept her amorous assault. 

As soon as I had come she moved to the head of the horse and stood behind me. She spread her legs and moved forwards, unzipping her crotch zip. Moving further forward she was now over my head and she slowly settled down. I was engulfed in her perfume, her moist passage rested firmly on the mouthpiece of my mask and her ass cheeks spread to settle on my face, my nose now embedded between her cheeks. I felt her fingers play with my nipples as I tried to satisfy her and breathe at the same time, not an easy thing to do, but she raised herself at intervals to show her consideration! I was pleased to see that after a while I was able to make her come and she rewarded me with a twist of each nipple ring. Coolly she got up, patted my head like a good dog and left. 

These sessions for the benefit of the website customers continued for a several weeks. While she was cruel and did cause me pain, which I’m sure she was supposed to do, I did get pleasure out of them as well. A couple of times she would strap herself into a strap-on dildo (once using a double ended one) and screw me. Even though I was usually in some form of bondage and was sore from some sort of beating, I learned that this was a pleasure I should enjoy for as long as it would last. 

We never spoke and it was as if we were just a pair of actors who meet to play out two roles and then move on. But I did not want her to leave; she was keeping me as sane as I could be in the crazy world I had been thrust into (or I suppose on reflection what I had actually volunteered for). It was the strangest thing to admit, but I got to look forward to the sessions with her. 

And then I got another visit from Elise.

Chapter Five

I was almost prepared for another scene, hoping it would involve Harlequin. I was already in my suit, this one covering my breasts, and I was about to place the cuffs on behind me. They would bring in my mask and put it on me. And Elise walked in, closing the door behind her. She was dressed in street clothes, a short patterned dress and slip on shoes and she had a large bag over her shoulder and my mask in her hand. She looked clean and fresh, but a little excited.

“What do you…….”

“Just shut up and listen.” She said and came over to where I was standing by the bed. She stood very close to me and spoke quietly. 

“Get the suit off. Are you listening? Get the suit off.” I just stared at her dumbly. 

“Look, what’s going on? Is this some sort of joke?” She gripped my arms in her deceptively strong hands and looked me in the eye.

“Do you want to get out of here?” I just stared at her.

“Well do you? Because this may be your only chance, so you had better smarten up. Now, for the last time get the suit off.” She roughly turned me round and pulled down the zip and as I extricated myself from the tight rubber Elise began to undress herself. She stepped out of the dress and then without any sign of coyness, her small panties and bra. We both stood naked staring at each other. She saw the bruises on my wrists and ankles and the red and blue areas on my cheeks, thighs and breasts. She seemed to be in thought for a moment.

“Stupid question I suppose, but do they hurt?”

“Not too badly at the moment, just a dull ache really. But if I get another good paddling again then yes, it does hurt.”

“I am sorry Diane, I really am.”

She went to the bathroom and came back with some talc, which she rubbed all over herself. She grabbed the suit and said.

“Help me get into this. Hurry!” I still stood watching her.

“What, are you crazy, you’re going to wear my suit and pass yourself..…why would…..” She appeared to be losing her patience with me. 

“Okay, would you rather you stayed here? Yes? Maybe for the rest of your life, eh?” As she pulled on the suit, and I began to help her, still flummoxed, she continued.

“I think you have suffered enough Diane, they’ve had their revenge on you, and more, so it’s time you got back to the real world. This is the only way I can think of.” 

“I appreciate this Elise, but do you have any idea what you are letting yourself in for, substituting yourself for me. You could end up here forever too! Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know, guilt maybe or some other feeling.” She looked at me strangely. “And I do know what I am getting into; remember I’ve watched you on the net! Okay, zip me up. Good. Now get my clothes on, quick.” I slipped into her bra and panties, still warm from her body, and a good fit. Then I stepped into her dress, and her shoes. We were a similar size but it felt strange dressed like this. Although I realised that Elise had made a huge, possibly life-changing decision, I knew now that I couldn’t miss on this chance. She looked superb in the tight black latex and gave a grim smile as she said. 

“In my bag here are a change of clothes, quite a bit of money, your credit card and your passport, which we kept after you came back from the U.S. I’ve also left a couple of personal things in there you may find interesting.” She smiled. “Outside is your car, we had it kept at a garage, I don’t know why. Your laptop is in the trunk. There’s no one else upstairs, once the minders take Zora, me, away to the room, wait a couple of minutes and then get the hell out of here. Drive as far as you can, I would suggest Lugano, and clear your account out, no one else can touch it, remember. Then find a place and get on with your life. They won’t come after you, they’ll make do with me for now, just to teach me a lesson they may make it hard for a while, then, probably,” here she smiled, “probably, they’ll find another girl to be Zora, God knows, there are thousands out there. They won’t worry about you, they know you won’t want to give them any more trouble, and me, I’m on the way out anyway, overstayed my welcome.” She slipped the cuffs behind her back and I heard the click as she locked them on. She smiled ruefully.

“Too late to change my mind now. Put the mask on me, come on.” I did so, she dipped her head and gave me a wry smile as I pulled it over her blonde hair and zipped it down the back. Despite the situation I thought she looked really sexy like that, so vulnerable, but my heart had mixed feelings. For how long would she be the new “Zora”? 

“In my bag there is my personal email address, no one else knows it. If, when, you find a place, I’d like you to email me and tell me you are safe. You don’t have to tell me where you are, but I’d like to know anyway. I may be here for a while.” She smiled ruefully. “You know this latex is pretty flattering isn’t it? I could really get into it….so to speak. How about a sisterly kiss goodbye?”

I took her in my arms, the rubber of her suit now warmed by her body.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” I said and she smiled.

“You’re not out of here yet, so maybe we should leave that until later.” She leaned into me and I kissed her through the mask. 

There was something familiar about the lips, the tongue…….I stood back, shocked. She smiled.

“But you’re…..oh my God…..you’re Harlequin!” She laughed, in her predicament, she actually laughed!

“Got you there, didn’t I? One of the clients had a particular “request” and I heard about it through Karen, and how do you say, I volunteered. They were quite happy with it; it meant they didn’t have to find another girl. And frankly so was I. I enjoyed our little sessions very much. You have a very good tongue and a certain……aroma I like. I hope I didn’t hurt you too much, but it had to be for real. Now get into the bathroom and hide there. We haven’t got any more time to talk. I hope we can meet again, Diane, but it may be some time before we do, I suppose. It’s really up to you; and my masters here of course.” I was too stunned to argue I kissed her again on her rubber covered cheek and hid in the bathroom, turning one last time to see her stand up by the bed. I heard her shout.

“She’s ready to take away now, I’m in the bathroom and I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.” I heard the door open and then the minders take Elise away to her fate, a fate that she had truly volunteered for, to save me!

I stood there stunned for a few seconds, I couldn’t understand why Elise would give up her freedom to give me mine. It wasn’t just guilt, I knew that. She said she had volunteered to be my domina and I remembered her “ministrations” on my body as we “acted” out the scene. I remembered how she had helped me out of my drugged state after they had taken me to the chateau. She had her job to do when ferrying me to the U.S. and back but now it seemed that she had seen me suffer enough. Certainly, I reflected, she had a very talented tongue and knew very well how to please me. As I dwelt on that I realised that I did want to see her again - but under different circumstances.

Epilogue

I allowed them a minute or so to take Elise away; to what fate I now had a pretty good idea. I looked around the room; I wouldn’t be missing this place that was for sure. I opened the closet and saw the three remaining rubber suits, and thought, what the Hell! I grabbed them all, rolled them up and put them in Elise’s bag. Then I thought why stop there? So I added a couple of the black masks!

I ran as fast and silently as I could upstairs and out the front door, and parked outside was my dear Mercedes. The keys were in the ignition and I threw the bag on the passenger seat. I didn’t know if they would hear the engine, but didn’t wait to find out. I tore down the drive and out into the traffic. I had no idea where I was but soon came to a small town. Elise had left a map on the seat and I soon found out where I had been held for the last nine months. I was northeast of Paris and a long drive from Switzerland, but I was not tired, the adrenalin was coursing through my veins. 

I drove and drove, stopping only to fill up the tank and eat. I finally arrived in Lugano late at night; passing through the frontier was no problem. I found an auberge and settled in. I opened her bag and what should I find at the bottom but her Harlequin suit and mask! I was still a bit hyped up, and so in her honour – and because I could not resist it, I slipped into it. I had no talc, so it took a while but soon I was in its warm comforting clinging grip. As I ran my hands over my body I felt a wonderful calm pass over me, and then I thought of Elise and what we could do if she were here now. Once the mask was pulled on I fell asleep like a child, a child with very naughty fantasies! 

I slept until 10 am the next day. Through the night in the car I had decided that I wanted to move, and to stay, in the south of France as I knew it well. I knew a bank there and would transfer all my funds there, it was a substantial sum. This went without incident; Swiss bankers are the soul of discretion. I had to buy black stockings and a long sleeved blouse first though, as the marks on my wrists and ankles might have caused alarm. 

I stayed for a couple of days, and then decided to waste no more time but to go south. I did this leisurely; freedom is something we all take for granted, and just driving through France is one of the great joys of life. Although I was happy, almost delirious at my freedom I knew how it had been gained and I couldn’t get Elise out of my mind. What was she enduring now, so that I should have this freedom? It wasn’t just guilt that I felt but, truth be told, a good bit of lust too! I thought of her in her Harlequin’s suit and as she was taken away, the black latex suit that I had worn before her. She had a great body all right – and great skills too.

Within two weeks I had found a place I could call home, just outside Avignon, a small house off the beaten track, but nicely modernised and a short drive to the town. Within six weeks I had moved in. during this time the bank where I had placed my funds were looking for a manager of private banking. I thought I’d give it a try and much to my own surprise got the job. So my life had now turned full circle. I had to chuckle. Corporate spy to an executive position in a bank – which kept all my own money – via being a rubber play doll!

So I was happy with my new life, except for one thing, Elise. Every few days I would click onto the Hellfire Club site, in the hope that I could detect a change in the shape of Zora. I had left a message on her private email with my new address, and had no reply so I had assumed that the folks at Demonlover and Hellfire had decided she needed more of a lesson. 

The minders seemed to be taking this a little more personally and she had been wrung through the wringer a few times. Her pussy was now bald like mine and her pussy and nipples were now ringed just like mine. On one occasion she was forced to entertain three minders and was impaled by all three at the same time; and the paddlings continued throughout. As the weeks went by I began to feel worse and worse about the whole exchange episode, but there was really nothing I could do. Sending in the cops to the chateau would only bring them down on me, and probably Elise as well. They had too many contacts, and would probably get a warning when the raid was to happen. No, now it became a waiting game. 

I began to make friends at the bank and through other contacts, but I kept pretty much to myself. In the evenings I would sometimes slip on one of the rubber suits, a black one or Elise’s harlequin one. Once in their firm embrace I felt calmer and more at ease. At least something good had come out of my time with Hellfire. I had truly got to enjoy the comforting grip of the latex and through a fetish magazine I bought more clothes by mail. At work I would sometimes wear latex panties and bra under my street clothes. If only they knew, I thought. I did not have my rings removed, I decided they were my penance, and would not remove them until my “saviour” was released, or maybe never.

And I would continue to watch the Hellfire site and Elise being punished and abused by her minders. 

Then one Saturday afternoon I was out in the back garden sunning myself and wearing just my white latex panties and bra. It was hot and I could feel the sweat trapped inside the panties. Suddenly I felt someone was astride me, sitting on my stomach with their knees holding down my arms. A hand was placed over my eyes, keeping my head firmly pressed back. My God, I thought, I’m going to be raped, or is it the thugs from Demonlover come to wreak more revenge. I opened my mouth to scream but a large rubber bladder was pushed into it and rubber straps pulled over my head. Then it was pumped up viciously until my cheeks were pushed out like a chipmunk. I tried to wriggle my legs and lower body but it was no good. Swiftly a blindfold was slipped over my eyes. I was starting to panic in a big way as I was quickly turned over on my towel and handcuffs soon gripped my wrists behind me. I was sure it was the Demonlover thugs come to take me back, and maybe to join Elise. 

I was led back into my house struggling to no avail, and then taken upstairs and thrown onto my bed. Quickly my ankles were stretched wide and cuffed to the bottom of the bed, then my cuffs were released and my arms stretched out above my head. Now they were going to rape me I thought; I was naked, except for my rubber panties and bra and barely able to move. But nothing happened for a few minutes; maybe they were calling their boss. 

I just lay there in a sweat, the gag feeling huge in my mouth. Then I felt the bed creak as someone sat next to me. I felt a smooth hand on my thigh, it was covered in leather perhaps, no, it was latex. It roamed up my thigh and then another was on my breast, coaxing the nipple, which quickly went hard. This was ridiculous, I was being raped, well, slowly, and getting turned on. The bastard continued to play with me, a hand went down inside my panties and found my nub, squeezing and rubbing it. I began to moan into the gag. Then the gag was deflated and the straps pulled over my head and the gag withdrawn; I was about to scream when a wet mouth clamped down on mine.

Now wait a minute, I thought; then my blindfold was pulled off and I was staring up at the harlequin!

“Hi there, got yourself in a bit of a pickle, haven’t you?” I could see her smile behind her mask.

“Elise, you bast…....” She clamped her lips on mine and I felt her fingers and thumb do their work inside my panties. I tried to wriggle, but it was now in pleasure, this was a trap I didn’t want to escape from!

“Miss me?”

“What do you think? Elise, I saw what they did to you, I’m so sorry, really.” She gripped my rubber covered nipple in her teeth and bit me just a little too hard. I winced.

“That’s all over now Diane. We both had our fair share, I’d say. And remember, we both volunteered!” She smiled down at me, enjoying my powerlessness. And I was enjoying my powerlessness too! This dominant, yet seemingly innocent woman, who looked about 18, knew just how to play with me. Then she released my ankles but left my arms cuffed above me. She prised down my wet panties.

“Aren’t you going to release my arms?”

“Hey, quiet, or else I’ll have to gag you with these; mind you I’d like to do that, just to hear you moan.” Then she lowered her rubber-covered head to my crotch and licked and probed with her tongue. 

When she had finished with her tongue and then with her double ended strap-on dildo, even when released I could hardly move. 

We now live here together; Elise has a job in town as well. On the outside it’s all very respectable. But then the locals have absolutely no idea what we get up to when together. What’s past is past; we have no hard feelings or recriminations for each other. We are survivors, both of us, and if it hadn’t been for Demonlover or Hellfire then maybe we wouldn’t be here like this today. This is the best time of my life and I think hers. We both play the dom and the sub and we have expanded our wardrobe. 

The high finance and industrial world has no appeal for either of us now. We get up to all kinds of perverted things together and we have never felt better for it. It’s a strange old world; I’ve been down some odd side roads and made strange decisions, or had them made for me, at crossroads. But this is as good as it can be, and after what I have been through, believe me I do appreciate it!
 
 
 
 
 

07.07.05 

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