© Copyright 2012 - Nate Walis - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/f; M/f; captive; latex; bodysuit; maid; costume; mermaid; pool; fishing; net; display; trophy; sex; climax; cons; X
continued from part two
Part 3: Mermaids
It had been two or three days since Eleanor had woken alone on the narrow bed and in the room in the rafters of the house. She had no memory of how she had arrived there after falling into a state of exhausted torpor, drained by her ordeal within the vacbed. More worryingly she was genuinely unable to count the days that had passed since then, the monotony and isolation of her enforced duties as a housemaid occupying her physically and draining her mentally until the hours simply ran into one another and became lost to her memory.
Consoled a little by the fact that she had been left alone during that time, she had felt the aching in her muscles and the pain in her abused abdomen begin to retreat, little by little, until they were no more than a slight tenderness in her most strenuous tasks and chores.
For the most part, Eleanor did nothing more than what was expected of her during the days that followed her first encounter with the Squire. She was happy to have not seen or heard of the man in that time and though she was unaware of the fact, the mental after effects of his treatment had dulled her mind temporarily to the point where she could not truly have contemplated her escape from his estate if she had been inclined to try.
Instead she made her rounds of the house, attending to her tasks in silence and simply nodding when a response was required from Alwyn or another member of the household. The truth was that apart from Alwyn, she had seen very few others since arriving at the house and mostly they were figures glimpsed only for a few minutes and all as anonymous as the rest behind their masks or beneath their hoods.
Today she had seen no one at all and had simply begun the routine of her tasks in the manner of an automaton. So deeply was she sunk into a morass of lethargy and mental boredom that the sound of a cough from over her shoulder made Eleanor almost jump out of her skin.
“I hope this morning finds you well,” Alwyn’s voice had become familiar enough by now for Eleanor to know her by its sound alone. She was puzzled by the fact that she had not heard footsteps approaching, but the answer as to why was instantly clear as soon as she turned to face the smaller woman.
Dressed as usual from head to toe in her uniform red, Alwyn was sitting in a wheelchair no more than a few feet from where Eleanor had been dusting. The sound of the chairs tyres seemed to have been muffled almost completely by the thick carpet that lined the floor of the corridor as she approached. The question as to why the need for the wheelchair was silenced as Eleanor took closer note of the other woman’s clothes and saw that the more common red tights did not emerge from beneath the tight pencil skirt as was the norm.
Today the length of Alwyn’s legs below her skirt was instead sheathed in a single length of red spandex that stretched all the way down to her feet and covering every inch in the skin-tight material. Though her feet were visible at the bottom of her legs, from the point where her toes ended there flared out a wide flap of reinforced fabric that almost reached the floor where it spilled over the edge of the chairs footrests.
It took Eleanor a moment to shrug off her daze and realise what the strange addition to Alwyn’s clothing was. But then she saw clearly as the sight awakened her curiosity, for some reason she was wearing a mermaid’s tail. Suddenly there was a reason for Eleanor to shake off her state of resigned drudgery and she was soon feeling more awake and alert than she had in days.
Though she would have been slow to admit the fact, Eleanor had always been more than a little enchanted by the idea of mermaids, by their fairytale nature and elemental grace. As she had grown up, the fascination had receded as it did for most when the real world relegated fantastic things to a position of lesser importance. But there was always the allure of the flashing tail and the idea of swimming freely through the mysterious waters of the deepest oceans, hidden away and strangely strong in the back of her mind.
“I’ll take it from your staring at my lower half that you’re aware there’s something unusual afoot,” Alwyn twitched her feet so that the fin at the end of her tail flapped up and down, “if you’ll pardon the pun.”
“The fact that the Squire is somewhat eccentric in nature can’t have escaped your notice,” Alwyn shook her head, “if it had, then let’s be honest, you would have had to be mentally deficient in some manner.”
Eleanor nodded again, still more interested in the sight of Alwyn’s legs moving inside the tail.
“There are times when he is gripped by the urge to indulge in one of his more complicated hobbies and pursuits, which the household is expected to help him with. Game shooting and riding are particularly onerous on the staff, but his passion for angling is slightly easier to accommodate.”
Eleanor raised her hand slowly.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Alwyn shook her head, “why am I wearing the tail if all that’s required is for him to catch a few fish?”
Eleanor nodded for the third time, wondering if she would ever be allowed to speak again.
“The Squire is not really interested in catching fish,” she let out a resigned breath, “not interested in catching fish at all, if I’m honest. What he really wants to catch are creatures of a more exotic nature. In short, he enjoys the chance to catch mermaids and it’s my responsibility to provide them for him.”
Eleanor was almost afraid to hear what was coming next, afraid that she was going to be told that her role was to carry the tackle or clean the rods while the role that she hardly dared to think about was handed to someone else.
“Just one thing,” Alwyn asked, “you can swim, can’t you?”
When she saw the outbuilding that had been converted to house the pool, Eleanor was almost forced to admire whatever hidden aesthetic taste the Squire possessed in creating his own private playground on the estate. It was clear that the building had once been some kind of barn, but both sides of the sloping roof and most of the walls had been replaced with thick panes of glass in order to allow the daylight to stream into the interior space. The frame of the building had been reinforced with a framework of steel to take the extra weight and the oval pool that dominated the interior was instantly inviting to the eye.
The end of the building where Eleanor entered, pushing Alwyn’s chair more so she could stare at the woman’s legs as they went than to genuinely help, was mainly filled with a small number of changing rooms. The far end, visible beyond the pool itself was dominated by a man made waterfall. This was designed to emulate a rocky cascade over which the water crashed before running into the pool itself.
Alwyn pointed out one of the changing rooms and pushed the door open with the end of her tail as they made their way inside.
The interior of the changing room was made remarkable only by the wide variety of costumes that hung on racks against one of the walls. Eleanor noted swimming costumes, bathing caps, bikinis and what must have been even more elaborate outfits jostling for position alongside the unmistakable shape of costumes similar in nature to Alwyn’s own. The mere thought of the possibilities sent a thrill through her body as she stroked the scaled surface of the nearest tail in anticipation.
“You’ll have to excuse me this time,” Alwyn gestured to her restricted legs, “for obvious reasons I can’t offer as much help with dressing you as I have before.”
Eleanor nodded, but for some reason she did not feel the same apprehension that dressing herself in the maids outfit had inspired and she was somehow pleased to be free of the other woman’s complete control for this task. Perhaps the attraction that she felt towards the idea that she was about to turn herself into a mermaid was enough to override her fears and anxiety. But in addition it simply felt right that she would be the one to be in control as far as possible in this case.
While she may have been out of Alwyn’s physical control, Eleanor soon found that she was not also to be spared the attention of the smaller woman’s tongue as she laid out instructions and saw that they were followed to the letter.
The first item of business was for Eleanor to once more strip herself out of her maid’s uniform and fold the shed garments neatly on the bench that ran along the wall opposite to the rack holding the outfits. Once she had been deprived of her clothes and wig, she stood again resembling a rubber doll, while Alwyn looked her up and down as if reminding herself of the dimensions and sizes with which she was working. Finally it seemed that she was satisfied with the scrutiny that her charge had been placed under and she pointed towards the rack, indicating the exact pieces that Eleanor should pluck from their hangers.
As soon as the elements of her costume were laid out in preparation on the bench, Eleanor could not help but start to become ever more excited. She had been directed to a tail that was aquamarine in colour and made of thick latex, its surface detailed with scales the size of coins and a wide tailfin that was picked out with thick ribbing while being contrasted with transparent material between them to give the impression of a more delicate membrane. The tail was accompanied by a matching corset that would reach up to her breasts, but not cover them and was the same colour as the tail yet smooth rather than scaled in texture. A pair of similarly smooth gloves would cover her arms well past her elbows and webbing similar to that of the tailfin spread between the knuckles of each finger. Her breasts would be capped, but not covered, by a pair of white shells and the costume was completed by a flowing wig of luxuriant hair that curled down its length in a shade of red that could never have been natural.
Eleanor barely heard Alwyn’s instructions as she picked up the tail and gleefully held it against her legs. Even with such a cursory examination, it was clear to see that the costume would be exceptionally tight once it was pulled over her legs. But such practical matters were far from her mind as she took in the detail of the scales and the complexity of the tailfin.
Eventually the woman in the wheelchair was able to gain Eleanor’s attention and instruct her to sit down on the bench so that they could begin the process of dressing her. As she sat down and rolled the tail back on itself as she was instructed, it became apparent that there would be no need to attach the thing to her with any form of adhesive. The fit of the tail would be so tight that it would be almost impossible to simply pull the thing off once it was in place.
Eleanor pressed her feet into the rigid plastic at the base of the tail and found that they sat for the most part within the shape of the tailfin, with only a few inches below her ankles actually being contained in the body of the tail. They were held firmly in place and forced into a line with the rest of her legs, but she was sure that the position would allow her a great deal of movement as far as the tailfin was concerned. Once the tail began to be rolled up further, she was genuinely surprised at how well the shape of her feet was concealed beneath the rubber, almost totally lost in the mass of the fin itself.
By the time the tail had been rolled up to her knees, Eleanor was already experiencing the restrictive nature of the costume. Her calves were forced together without the ability to move a fraction of an inch apart, and she was required to stretch her legs out rigidly as Alwyn almost fought to pull the tail up and over her knees. As with her calves, Eleanor’s knees were now similarly pinned in place as the costume was unrolled over her thighs, the range of movement possible below the waist becoming more restricted with every inch that the rubber covered.
When the unrolling of the tail reached her buttocks, Eleanor was forced to lie down on the bench and allow Alwyn to stretch the last few inches of the costume over her backside. The feeling of the tail finally being fully unrolled and pulling her buttocks together created a strange sense of completion in her mind. It was as though the completion of the constricting and limiting sensation that now extended from her waist to the tips of her toes was transformed from the act of being dressed in a costume into something almost, dare she think it, magical.
She rolled onto her side and gazed down at the length of the costume, admiring the way in which it turned the curving shape of her legs into an elegant fishtail. A part of her knew that the feelings she was aware of beneath the latex scales were her own legs and the way in which the tail moved could only have been their own. But a more whimsical and at that moment dominant part of the same mind delighted in the idea that she had realised a dream buried in the depths of her subconscious for many years.
She had exchanged her legs for a mermaid’s tail and she was not in the least bit disappointed with the result of the trade.
Eleanor was reminded of the reality of her surroundings when Alwyn rapped her backside with the short crop that she carried. The blow was not sharp enough to really hurt and the latex of Eleanor’s tail absorbed most of the force. But she was suitably chastised and swung her tail around so that she was sitting on the bench and facing the smaller woman.
The stiffness of the tailfin in which Eleanor’s feet were encased proved to be an issue when she tried to sit in the manner of a normal human being. Because the costume forced her feet to point downwards, she was effectively unable to do anything but balance her tailfin on the floor as if she were keeping En Pointe like a ballerina.
Her discomfort did not seem to concern Alwyn, who handed her the corset and wasted no time in securing the garment around her waist. Though there was some constriction on her stomach, Eleanor soon found that the corset seemed to have been designed for aesthetic purposes rather than to haul in her middle. She had to admit that she was fond of the way in which it continued the line of her tail up to the point where it met her breasts, drawing the eye to their naked shape and giving them a chance to compete for attention with the expanse of the aquamarine scales below.
The shells found their way onto the breasts some moments later, a strong adhesive spread across their inside edges in order to bond them to Eleanor’s latex skin. Though they added a hint of amusing whimsy to the costume, she found that she was a little disappointed to see her breasts covered in any way. She consoled herself with another glance at the body that was being put together right in front of her eyes and gave a wriggle that sent her breasts dancing and her tail flipping. She smiled at the sight of her newly decorated breasts as they moved, happy that they could still express her sense of physical delight.
Alwyn smoothed the wig down over Eleanor’s head and took care to ensure the thing was perfectly aligned. Like the shells, the hairpiece was held in place by adhesive and she wanted to be sure the effect was as good as she could make it. For her own part, Eleanor ignored the technical precision of positioning the wig. Instead she watched as copper tresses cascaded down her shoulders and framed the view of her mermaid body. For her the choice of a vibrant red colour was a reminder of the locks that she had been deprived of at the start of her captivity and the combination of that fact with the excitement she felt at becoming a mermaid was mixed with a strange sense of irony.
The final piece of the costume was the long, webbed gloves and Alwyn simply handed these to Eleanor, trusting her to handle perhaps the simplest part of the task. She accepted them and pulled them onto her pink hands without a moment of hesitation, slipping individual digits into the spaces between the webbing and feeling the sensation of them pulling against one another as she did so.
For some reason it was only when the gloves were finally covering most of her arms, that Eleanor felt she could allow herself to actually touch her own body. It was as if before she had been looking at the rubber mermaid slowly taking form as an observer, marvelling at the shape and texture of the strange creature and distinct from the thing as a separate entity. But as soon as the hands that she looked down at were webbed and coated in the same aquamarine latex, she seemed somehow to come alive to the fact that she was indeed the mermaid that she had been gazing at.
There and then the length of her tail seemed to become apparent to her, the tailfin moving in an almost unconscious motion and the weight of the thing changing her posture. The shells covering her breasts became as natural to her eyes as a bra might have been to the woman who had donned the costume. The red locks and webbed fingers that now did not hesitate to stroke and press the surfaces of her body could not have been more natural.
Perhaps it was her state of mental exhaustion, but Eleanor no longer felt exposed and degraded as she regarded herself in the mirror that hung from the back of the changing room door. Instead the shape into which she had been forced seemed to hold her and at the same time mould her so that her body was presented as a statement rather than an object. There was no escaping the fact that she was still a living, breathing sex toy, but now she felt as though she somehow agreed with the idea that she was desirable and worth the attention that she could attract.
Suddenly, Eleanor was shocked to realise that this time she wanted the attention.
“Okay,” Alwyn opened the door of the changing room, “let’s get you into the pool.”
Eleanor’s previous zeal and confidence at her rebirth as a mermaid was a little dented by the fact that she was forced to make her way out of the changing room and to the side of the pool under her own steam. This she did by lowering herself onto the floor and moving in the manner of a seal, pulling her body forwards with the strength of her arms and dragging her tail behind.
But the feelings of humiliation soon passed when she reached poolside and manoeuvred her body so that her tail dipped into the water as she sat on the edge. The water was warm enough for her to feel even through the layers of rubber. She moved her tailfin back and forth, feeling the different motions of the thing as it cut through the water below.
“You seem to be taking to this better than I hoped,” Alwyn had brought her wheelchair to a halt nearby. “Seeing as how you’ll be the only mermaid in the pool today, why don’t you slip in and get used to the water. You’ll need to be comfortable with the tail before the Squire gets here, so don’t be afraid to dive in.”
Eleanor had expected to feel trepidation at the mention of the Squire and his rapacious attentions, but she found that instead she was filled with an odd sense of relish at the thought of his inevitable arrival. Perhaps the change that she had felt creep over her as she was transformed into a rubber mermaid had something to do with her new confidence? There was certainly a part of her that seemed to have receded with the immersion in the identity she had assumed, the part that had burned with shame as she was forced into the vacbed and stimulated brutally with the vibrator. In contrast the persona of the mermaid positively welcomed the idea of being the object of such attentions, wanted her latex skin to be grasped, her shell-covered breasts to be massaged against her chest.
She stopped herself, hard though it was to do so.
For now she needed to do nothing more than indulge in the one activity that mermaids were intended for… she corrected herself as her mind wandered again, insisting to herself that the activity was swimming as firmly as she was able.
Eleanor lowered herself into the water, feeling the warmth as she did so and becoming more comfortable with the new way in which her body moved now that she was in her native element. She had always been a strong swimmer, and she soon found that the reality of having tail to manage in the water rather than a pair of legs radically altered the way in which she was able to move. Soon she discovered that she was best served by relying mainly upon the motion of her tail and leaving her arms by her sides as the deep, powerful sweep of the single limb was able to propel her without their aid.
With every second she spent in the water, she seemed to loose ever more of her previous fears and anxiety as though they were washed away as she swam. When she inevitably began to tire, Eleanor surfaced and surveyed her surroundings. Settling on the imitation waterfall and its man made rocks; she cruised over in their direction before hauling herself out of the water and onto the nearest outcropping.
The perch she had chosen was flat and wide enough for her to lie on her side and she did so, draping her tail over the edge and stroking her stomach lazily with one hand while the other played with her long red hair.
“Now what have we here?”
The sound of the Squire’s voice caused Eleanor to glance up and see him regarding her from the far side of the pool. He was dressed in full fishing attire and a collection of associated paraphernalia was heaped at his side. It seemed that she had been so distracted that he had been able to enter the pool house and watch her sporting in the water without her noticing his presence for some time.
She propped herself up on one elbow and regarded him with a genuine feeling of disinterest that surprised the more sober part of her mind. This was the man who had kidnapped her and used her as a plaything; she should have been cowering in fear from him. But the voice in her head that had begun to speak since her transformation into a mermaid was not in the least bit impressed.
So what, it said at the sight of him, all men are driven by that same urge to copulate that exists deep down in their most primitive core and he’s no different. He may take hold of this body and have his way, but he would only be the latest of many to be lured by the sight of a siren and dashed on the rocks of his own desire in the process. So let him take this body, because after all, what else are mermaids made of rubber for?
Gripped by the spirit of her mermaid alter ego, Eleanor slowly licked her lips and sat up to meet his gaze before sliding off the rocks and into the water with a resulting splash.
“Looks like I need some bait,” the Squire turned to Alwyn who had a fishing rod of massive length and solid construction ready to place in his hand. He took the rod and reached down into the tackle boxes at his feet, pulling an object made of black rubber from the nearest and hooking it to the end of his line. As he twirled the rod, preparing to cast the line into the pool, it became apparent that the object on the end of the line was a large dildo, ribbed and dotted with small protrusions along the length of its shaft.
The phallus arched out over the pool as the Squire cast off and broke the surface no more than a few feet from Eleanor’s face as she swam beneath the water. At first she was confused as to what it was, but closer examination saw her eyes widen in surprise and her hands reached out to grasp the thing as she swam in a tight circle. Before she had consciously studied the dildo, she was seized by an urge that could not be resisted and slipped the head and then the shaft into her mouth.
On the side of the pool, the Squire saw the bubbles released from her lungs as she opened her mouth and gave a cry of triumph as he began to reel in his catch.
Eleanor felt the sudden pull on the line and instinctively gripped it with both hands, her teeth biting down on the shaft of the dildo as if she were determined not to be deprived of its length. Soon she was drawn to the side where she felt the weight of a net cast over her and she was hauled, struggling from the water to be deposited on the tiled floor with her tail slapping against the ceramic surface and making a sound that echoed around the pool house.
“Spirited one, eh?”
The Squire laughed as he hauled the net and the indignant rubber mermaid across the tiles in spite of her incoherent protests. Eleanor had spat out the dildo and was now yanking at the net as if hoping to free herself with her webbed hands. She hurled what she thought was abuse at him, but in truth all she managed to vocalise were meaningless sounds of anger and frustration, as if she had been reduced to the mental state of an irate animal. The more she struggled and fought, the more he laughed, simply amused at the ferocity of the creature he had netted.
Eventually the Squire came to a halt and Eleanor felt something being tied around her tail, just above the fin. But before she could see what was happening, she felt something dragging her upwards by the end of her tail and she let out a screech of terror as the world turned upside down. Inch by inch she was hauled higher off the ground until she came to a halt, rotating gently and able to see that she had been suspended perhaps four feet from the ground, her arms hanging by her head and her breasts threatening to obscure the view.
Glancing through the mass of red wig and breast that was hampering her line of sight, she could just make out the Squire striking a mocking pose as he placed a hand on her tail and brandished his rod with the other. In front of him, Alwyn held up an old fashioned camera complete with flash bulb and snapped a picture of the bizarre scene for posterity.
A trophy, Eleanor realised, he’s strung me up as a bloody trophy!
She could not control her anger at that moment and began to thrash back and forth on the end of the rope. How dare he treat her like this? She was a mermaid, a thing of beauty and grace that should have been painted in oils by a damn tortured genius rather than being treated like a prize turbot and strung up by her fins!
The Squire backed off a few feet and began to laugh once more at the rubber mermaid’s impotent rage, safe in the knowledge that he was out of her reach. He retired to a folding chair that Alwyn seemed to produce from nowhere and took great delight in each jerk and spasm that Eleanor’s body managed to produce.
But all too soon she began to tire once more and the fire that had been so intense faded to almost nothing, made only worse by the disorientation that she felt at being hung upside down. Mere minutes later her arms hung down limply and she finally stopped struggling as fatigue filled her from head to tail.
Once he was satisfied she was spent, the Squire got to his feet and walked over to where she was turning gently as she hung from the rope. He unzipped his trousers and presented her dazed features with his penis, semi-erect and sheathed in a similar shade of rubber to her own flesh.
Still in a haze from her exertions, Eleanor reached for the member with one webbed hand. Once she had a weak grasp of the shaft, he guided it into her half-open mouth and met with little resistance as he pressed it between her lips.
Eleanor had no energy left to do anything but submit to his demands and she began to massage his penis as best she could with her tongue. She had little experience of oral techniques, but the instinctive way in which she took him into her mouth and slowly built the pressure she applied spoke of her deferring to his demands and surrendering to his will. Perhaps he sensed her will to fight as it finally collapsed, his penis becoming stiffer in response to her attentions.
Eleanor had no recollection of how long he left her there, but eventually she felt the rope being lowered a little at a time until she was again laid upon the tiles, caught in the coils of the net. She sensed, rather than felt the touch of arms as they lifted her from the net and carried her a short distance to a reclining couch a few feet from the edge of the pool. She was laid down on her stomach and stroked, petted and squeezed as one might handle a tactile ball of clay.
All trace of resistance was gone from her mind and her body as the Squire played with his prize. She simply watched as he made her play with his penis, stroking the shaft with webbed fingers and thumbs. He kneaded her breasts together, pushing up the shells so that the adhesive tugged on her nipples below and she let out a tiny moan at the sensation. When he finally straddled her tail and sank his member into the hidden entrance between her buttocks, then beyond into the sheath that filled her vagina, it seemed that her entire body sighed in release and resignation.
Eleanor finally felt the length of his penis sink into her and knew in that moment what it was to be an object intended purely and simply for the sexual gratification of another. Every thought of self pity, anger and resentment for what had been done to her was gone in that moment, replaced not by a wonderful dawning of realisation or wonder in what she had been forced to become, but instead with a quiet acceptance of what was being done to her. There was no way to escape the fate with which she had been saddled, and so the parts of her mind that would only be destroyed and irrevocably eroded by that fate slowly receded into the depths of her soul. As she was penetrated in body and soul, her internal landscape restructured itself to cope as best it could with the treatment she received and the woman who emerged from the change was not the same one who had been snatched from her solitary walk some days before.
The new woman who wore Eleanor’s face, but was not the Eleanor who had once lived behind the same eyes, began to smile as she made a good show of wriggling beneath the Squire’s weight. He was enjoying himself and he was still full of energy, stimulating her bodily and sending ripples of pleasure down the length of her pinned tail so that her fin waved in the air and her webbed fingers clawed at the couch beneath her.
She did not for one moment think of herself as a woman in a costume because she was simply whatever he demanded that she be. Right now she was a rubber mermaid with a slinky tail, she would not have tried to stand as if she had legs if her life had depended on it. It was fine to do nothing more than lounge around, flipping her tail and being ridden when the mood took him because that was all she was for.
What more could she want?
As the Squire made love to his rubber mermaid, she allowed herself to wonder what else the future had in store for her.
Whatever it was, she wanted to come back to the pool and be ridden again soon.
It would be so terrible to be bored.