Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories


by Ludwig

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© Copyright 2010 - Ludwig - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; latex; catsuit; messy; outdoors; tease; mast; oral; climax; cons; X

continued from part 3

Part 4

Chapter 7: The Enemy Within

“You all right, miss?”

The faraway voice echoed in her ears. Although everything was a dark blur, she could clearly make out a few distinctive features of the speaker only by her sense of smell. Somewhere deep inside her confused mind, she thought it was quite amusing to see things through her nose all of a sudden. The person spoke again.

“She’s awake, Rafe.” A baritone diesel drone with a slight suggestion of relief. “No blood, and she’s not… No, legs free… Oh, Mary, mother of Christ; that was close… ”

Suddenly feeling a bit sick, she wondered why the man had eaten rotten oranges. The smell was so intense that she imagined inhaling the colour orange. Then, a sudden cold feeling followed by intense pain. The voice disappeared for what seemed to be a few seconds or months, and then there were more people speaking around her. What was going on? The stink of petrol, dirt, manure and oily, smouldering plastic hit her nose and made her try to hold her breath. Something on her face forced cold and dry air back into her body, which felt a bit better. Was there a fire? She forced her left eye open and saw only patches of grey sky far above, and she had to close it when the world started to move in a strange, bobbing way. Something around her neck kept her from turning her head.

“She must’ve been doin’ fifty, at least...”

“Sixty, I’d say. Straight down yon lane an’ bang...”

“Aye. Lucky lass, that. Don’t reckon she’d been on the drink, though.”

She gratefully welcomed the warm embrace of a pink cloud and the white metal silence closing in on her. A friendly face appeared in her slowly reddening sight and she involuntarily giggled at the funny-looking monobrow above the blue eyes. It sounded like a drowning mouse. So this is the Luck of the Irish. I’m alive.

The friendly face spoke, and now she could hear properly. She tried to fix her gaze to the moving lips.

“She’s stable.” The face turned towards her and she was able to count the teeth. Sixteen. “You’re still with us, I see. You’ll be just fine.”

The words bounced back and forth behind her heavy eyelids until the pink cloud turned into a sugary gorge, gently enveloping her. This would probably mean, she thought; that she would be arriving late for dinner with Alex.

* * *

“Miss Garrett?”

For a fraction of a second, Niamh was back in school again. Another empty daydream.

“Miss Garrett? Niamh?”

The voice gravely mispronounced her name in a slightly charming way, and she opened her eyes to see what it was all about. A wiry little man met her gaze with a concerned smile. He was very dark, a sharp contrast to all the white. All the pastel-coloured cleanliness. She blinked. And here’s my cue: “Where am I?”. Her head suddenly buzzed like a jet engine about to start. In a hospital, of course. Which, by the way, does not spell capital NH feckin’ S because I’m alone in here, the sheets are pure heaven and I won’t leave the bed until I’ve figured out how to tell arsehole from Dr. Pinstripe here... As the smiling doctor tried her first name again, she stopped him in mid-Nimm and tried:

“What’s happened?” Magnificent start, since he’s already about to tell you.

“My name is Dr. Vikram Rajahmani. You have had a quite severe accident. There seem to have been higher forces involved, since you were practically unscathed when you were taken care of.”

“Anyone else injured?”

“No.” The doctor showed her a row of glistening teeth, and something clicked inside her. Ambulance. Pain. “Not a single soul.”

“But...” Niamh hesitated, trying to steady herself. They obviously had given her something really interesting judging from the way the wall swirled with colours when she turned her head. She noticed an expensive-looking purse on the bedside table, a little pink cadeau with a card but no flowers or any trace of chocolates. “Alex... Mrs. DeVries... Is she here? Has anyone...”

“Mrs. DeVries arranged for you to come here to us at Derwentwater, Miss Garrett. She arrived yesterday. You will be able to see her in a minute. There is, however, a matter we must discuss regarding the reason you were transferred here.” Dr. Rajahmani dropped the smile from his face.

Oh, that’s a bad-news mug if I ever saw one... Niamh thought without having anything to say. The air around her suddenly seemed to grow very thin.

“Fortuitously,” the doctor emphatically continued, “the hospital you were initially sent to performed a proper CT scan, which revealed something that was not caused by the accident, but rather might have been the cause of it.”

Niamh vaguely recollected the strange sensations she had experienced. There was a sudden chill in the room. She fumbled for the glass of water that wasn’t there, and rested her fingers on the purse instead. A little comfort.

“What...What exactly are you...”

“A spot on the screen the size of a large walnut near some very sensitive areas around...” Dr. Rajahmani indicated an area on his own head, “Around here. Now...” he continued in a level voice before the Big C note faded in her mind, “We have already performed additional tests and taken care of the most acute matters- that’s why we have shaved a bit of your hair off on the side... there, yes- please be careful with the little stent under the tape there, and there is no real reason to be alarmed.”

“No? What is it, then?” Niamh’s heart made a false start, but the drugs cropped the edge off the adrenaline. This was a head-on approach she did not expect from such a meek-looking fellow.

“We have found what we call a meningioma. A cyst in this case, entirely benign, probably caused by a previous injury that caused a minute haemorrhage... A blow to the head is sometimes enough... But it has developed somewhere it should not be at all.” The doctor announced, sounding like an odd lecturer in linguistics, or someone telling a story for a six-year old girl. Detached. I’m merely the appendix to my disease. “It appears to have been the culprit in this case. I must say I am very surprised. It is a very rare condition at your age.”

“What... What are you going to...?” Niamh felt her face contort as sticky tears exuded from her eyes.

Dr. Rajahmani immediately rounded the corner of the hospital bed, looking forlorn and a bit remorseful. He was probably as used to the patient-comforting bit as Niamh was to being hospitalized. It was too much to take in at once. To his relief, a sylphlike nurse appeared out of nowhere and saved his day. Niamh buried her head in her apron as several strings within her snapped, and she slumped back in the bed. Where is Alex?

* * *

The weight next to her on the bed shifted and the warmth disappeared. She woke up to see a familiar figure looking out the window five steps away, and this time her heart responded the way it should. Fresh blood cleared her head in an instant, and she felt like jumping out of the bed before her body caught up with her. Instead, she sat up straight and got rid of the thick duvet.

In a single, sweeping stride, Alex returned and embraced her. Very gently, as if she was afraid that Niamh might break into pieces. The kisses she gave her were light as feathers as well, but when she spoke Niamh felt her eyes water again and not only with relief. Crikey, she’s been smoking a chimneyful.

“Oh, ik ben zo boos op je; en ik weet niet waarom...” (Oh, I'm so mad at you, and I do not know why)

”I’m fine. Just fine.” Niamh tried, and caught up. “Be angry if you want. Just don’t cry, ‘cause I won’t be able to hold back… And… ”

“You could have been killed, en me verlaten*… You must have been feeling ill. Why didn’t you say anything?” *(and left me)

Niamh felt a tinge of guilt. It was strange to have anyone else than her mother so close to her, giving her grief for putting her life on the line so that they would be left behind, all alone in this world. A part of her wanted to explain that blacking out behind the wheel on a country lane was not something she would turn into a habit, but this was not the right moment for comic relief. She got lost in the green glint in Alex’ eyes, lost for words. Despite having been there for what Niamh suspected was quite a long time, Alex looked anything but shabby. A slight puffiness around the eyes indicated that she had been crying, but that was all. Even the seams on her stockings were straight as far as Niamh could see.

They talked for a long while, and Alex tried to explain what had been said to her about the procedure that was to be carried out. She thought she would do better than the doctor, and Niamh didn’t object to that even if she had a hard time understanding what a gamma knife was, or what a minimal invasive operation meant. It was as if Alex tried to talk them both into feeling relatively safe.

“Nursing school.” Alex explained in between. “Can’t help myself. I’m not familiar with much of the new technical, er... things, but I’m not worried about the risks.”

“Try convincing me some more.” Niamh grunted, making herself comfortable right next to Alex. “You’ve done fairly well so far. Meanwhile, I’ll fantasize about you as a nurse.”

* * *

Two days later, Niamh woke up to her worst hangover ever. Her stomach and bowels did their best to try to expel what was no longer there, and she felt like a rag doll in a dog’s mouth. The surgery itself had been performed without any difficulties at all, but the willowy nurse had explained to Niamh that she had had quite a violent delayed reaction to the pre-op drugs. Niamh instantly hated the sound of the nurse’s accent right there and then; apart from her own body, the sickly greenish smock, the bed, everything. Twelve hours passed before she could re-enter a vaguely human state again.

The same night, bits and pieces of the events right before the surgery flicked through her mind. Whatever they had put in that syringe surely did its thing, and she still remembered the floating colours and the feeling of total bliss. The blue plastic mask, and the oxygen making her lungs feel like Montgolfiers soaring into the blue sky. Then, then smell of sea followed by uncanny distorted sounds before the ensuing silence.

She felt her face blush a little when she recalled the vivid hallucinations from that moment. She thought she could see Theresa’s face before her, and feel the weight of the strait jacket on her all over again. It was so very lucid, and quite confusing.

Niamh laughed silently to herself. Not even during possibly life-threatening moments her mind gave up trying to play silly buggers with her. The thought made her feel a bit better, until she began pondering over what really got her here. They fried something inside my head. Something the doctors considered highly atypical and entirely benign, but it was in her head. What would happen if it suddenly came back? It could, couldn’t it? Would she be able to function normally now, or would some strange side effect make her disabled in some way? She shivered. It was mindless anxiety, but hard to put aside nevertheless.

As if to reassure herself, she got up from the bed and limbered up a little. She wiggled her toes after putting on the slippers, taking excessive care to check all motor functions. Everything seemed fine, and even though she was feeling exhausted, there was no dizziness or diffuse nausea weighing her down. Not even the slightest headache or strange taste that shouldn’t be there anymore, which she noticed with great relief.

The small, black jewel case on the left bedside table caught her attention. She had left it open, and the ring lying on the green velvet reflected the little light that was left. Niamh absent-mindedly picked it up and put it on her finger. The swelling was almost gone, and it fit perfectly. Alex had almost ceremoniously presented the ring to her, and Niamh had accepted it in a less formal way with quite a lot of emotion. Now, the unadorned gold felt more real to her than almost anything else.

* * *

Only hours before she was due to be discharged, Nichola and Tim came to visit her. Niamh acted like she hadn’t seen them for ages, and they were quite taken aback to see her in such a state. They probably hadn’t expected her to be up and about like nothing had happened.

Nichola had brought her kit and gave Niamh a much-needed impromptu makeover, primarily including a new hairstyle to conceal the bald patches. Tim tried to understand what had happened in the accident, stuttering cautiously about what he had thought when he had seen what remained of his car. He tried to avoid too much detail, just in case. Niamh explained what had been said to her.

“The last thing I remember is that I’m on my way to... Well, work; I guess. I start to feel like I’ve got something in my eyes, and then nada.” she said, snapping her fingers. “They say that I’ll probably never remember those five to ten- perhaps fifteen minutes before and after the...”

“You went like a rotary mower through a hedge, an iron gate and halfway through a field full of sheep without as much as a broken nail,” Nichola announced, “and I swear they will find pieces of that motor the summer after next. Now, if that ain’t being lucky...

“I got it sorted out with the insurance and all, so no worries about that.” Tim tried in an effort to smooth it over. “We’re... We’re just happy you’re still with us, is what I’m trying to say. I heard they were able to...” Spinning with his finger around his temple, he shunned all medical expressions in favour of less loaded sign language without doing very well.

Niamh glanced at her reflection in the mirror. An unusually focused Nic Scissorhands was slowly perfecting a rather fetching Chelsea haircut. A wan smile grazed her lips.

“Yeah. I vill no longer covet ze blood of virgins. Sorry about your car, Timothy”.

“Good riddance. Granny’s Stanza is a wicked ride, know what I mean? That’s what she told me, anyway.”

Nichola tried to steer the conversation into the matter of where Niamh was being treated. It was an impressing hospital, to say the least, and she was wondering who was going to pay the bill. Niamh answered quite vaguely, saying something about being on the best contract she’d ever had, which wasn’t technically a lie. Tim, always a bit on the fast side, complimented her on her choice of employer who he described as a queen- sized Fanny Ardant. Obviously they had bumped into each other, Niamh thought, and the description was fairly accurate. Coming from a movie buff like Tim, that was pure praise. But to me there’s more than meets the eye.

* * *

“Come on! I’m out of pleases already!”

Nearly a week had passed since they left the hospital and Niamh was slowly growing frantic with being treated as a convalescent. She kept trying to convince everyone, especially Alex, that she was feeling better than ever and that there was no reason to worry about her. Excess energy flooded her system and she felt like taking on all the work that had been left behind at once, cook and undertake a major autumn housecleaning. Moreover, there was a side effect no doctor could possibly have foreseen that inflicted on her with tremendous force. Her libido was stuck in constant overdrive, and Alex refused to let her loose on a rampage.

“Are you really, really sure that’s such a great idea?” Alex sighed, not quite managing to conceal her enjoyment. Niamh was certain that she too had come to the conclusion that there was no great risk in getting more serious than just cuddling, which was what she had been forced to put up with for several days now, but Alex still held back any endeavour in that direction. She had even tried her best to keep Niamh from satisfying herself, which only meant stoking the fire.

“Actually, I think we’re running out of options.” Niamh retorted. “It’s that or you’ll have to find some real powerful sedatives and a blowpipe.”

The situation had worsened considerably since the long awaited order from A&T had arrived, with a long letter from Theresa enclosed. Apart from a heartfelt wish for a speedy recovery, she had added a few things under the headline !Read only if you feel well enough (honestly)! which Niamh immediately recognized as an invitation.

As a result, she had spent quite some time going through all the goods while occasionally reading the letter over and over with a silly grin on her crimson face. Theresa went into great detail about new discoveries, and reminded Niamh about their little deal. She also pointed out that there were, apart from a few extras added to Niamh’s garments, a few samples from her range of personal favourites thrown into the bargain for free. Sugar on top.

Alex had been rather surprised to find a rail packed with neatly arranged rubberwear, washed and dip-shined to a lustrous finish in her downstairs study when she had arrived home that evening.

“I promise to God I’ll be careful.” Niamh moaned.

“Oh, dearie me. Well, all right then.” Alex’ smile wouldn’t have shamed a Cheshire cat. “But I won’t stand for any...”

“Audacious behaviour of any kind, yes, thank you. I promised you, didn’t I?”

Niamh received a hefty slap on her bum and scuttled upstairs closely followed by Alex.

* * *

“You seem to have given this some serious thought, kiddo.” Alex mused when she found out that everything Niamh had picked for the occasion was placed in a plastic crate in the towel cupboard, ready to use. “It’ll be fun to see what you had in mind.”

“Yeah?” Kiddo? “I have a feeling...” Niamh mumbled as she handed Alex a heavy, slithery bundle. “A feeling that you might not be entirely off beam there.”

“Oh, you couldn’t have picked a nicer one when you were at it, could you?”

Alex expressively unfolded the garment and held it up against her. It was a fairly well-worn faded black catsuit without any frills other than incorporated socks, cut in an apparent unisex style.

“I’m sure there must have been something else in that closet,” Alex complained. “I use this as an undergarment, you know. For outdoor activities. It must have been sitting there for ages.”

“I just felt how soft it was. Classy stuff. It’s perfect for this.”

“Well, if you say it is. But it’s no use trying to polish it, and there’s just a one-way back zip.”

“I’m no fun to be with now, then? I noticed that. It’s fine.” Niamh chuckled. “How come you sound like a teenage me all of a sudden? Get your kit on now, if you please; ma’am.”

“I thought you rather would have liked to see me in that lovely red one I ordered instead of this old bag. And what is that? I didn’t see that before.” Alex went on as Niamh produced a short-sleeved surf suit in a strangely appealing shade of cerulean blue from the crate.

“Perk offered by Ms.T herself, nearly free of charge.” Niamh bubbled as she spun around clutching the suit tightly to her curves. She noticed how Alex raised her eyebrows slightly at the sight of the interesting extra features on it. It was made out of fairly thick latex, and there were a few D-rings and unobtrusive straps suggesting rather elaborate possibilities of bondage.

Niamh needed only a minute to get changed. The suit slid onto her skin like an organic being, generously coated with lube on the inside. She smiled when she discovered the little silver teddy bear attached to the piece of cord used to pull up the back zip. Details...

Alex was sitting on a stool with the suit pulled halfway up her legs, too busy admiring the slightly plump elf in front of her to get dressed. Niamh snuck past her curious hands and began helping her out without appearing too impetuous. Within a moment, save a few seconds for Alex grumbling over too much talc in the suit, Niamh was able to pull the long zip up Alex’ back and hand her a pair of short gloves.

“Hey presto! No, don’t let your hair down. It’ll get messy.”

“I was going to say ‘was that it?’, but now I’m all ears again.”

“The divan in the guest room is prepped and ready. Wait for me there, please.” Niamh said, tiptoeing away.

“Why there? Where are you off to, sweetie?”

“Close to the bathroom. Downstairs, to the kitchen. BeeArrBee.”

* * *

Niamh was a little surprised at her own cool, composed and methodical way of preparing all the fun. This was something new for her, always the one giving in to passion when things became a little heated. She snapped out of her thoughts as the ice maker rattled, filling the plastic cup. She quickly wrapped a linen towel around it and put it aside to open the refrigerator door.

The idea had slowly appeared in her mind, and she was positive she had read about it in some magazine years ago. It had seemed such a weird thing to do at first, but it made perfect sense when she gave it ‘some serious thought’. Kiddo, eh?

Cold air brushed past her toes as she reached inside the refrigerator, fetching two large cartons of yoghurt that she placed on the worktop next to her. She deliberated for a moment while reading the table of contents, and frowned at the fancier-looking carton. Not entirely sure about the benefits of soyghurt, which she read as sog-yurt, she put it back and opted for the locally produced double cream instead. Two pints of the yoghurt, which despite being marked ‘natural’ proved to be both slightly lumpy and decidedly tasting of vanilla, and a big glug of the cream ended up in a water jug that she put in the microwave. It just about fit into it, and she watched it intently as it slowly spun inside the oven. Is it just me, or does that smell of success?

Alex looked a bit forlorn sitting on the divan when Niamh returned upstairs. She was playing a little with the large black rubber sheet spread over it, and poked questioningly with her feet at the plastic covering the floor around it. The sight of her face when Tinker Bell appeared in the doorway with a jug and a wrapped cup was priceless, Niamh thought. She bit her lower lip to smother a giggle.

“I was becoming a bit worried about all this protection,” Alex said quizzically, “but now when you’re Bee I’m back in simply baffled-mode again. What are you up to, eekhoorntje?” (squirrel)

Niamh stole a kiss from her to avoid too much further talking and stationed herself behind the divan, placing everything she needed within reach. With slow, caressing strokes, she deftly opened Alex’ back zip from her neck down to her shoulders.

“Ooh, it’s cold.”

“Sshh. It won’t be for long. Lean forward, please...”

The sound of Alex’ bewildered moaning when the warm, rich yoghurt touched her skin and began spreading down her back inside the suit made Niamh weak at the knees. She eased up on the pouring and let the liquid trickle slowly downwards under the rubber. Alex pulled at the neck opening, and Niamh moved the lip of the jug slightly forward to spill a little down in front as well. Her stomach lurched when she noticed how Alex couldn’t keep still any longer. Squirming slowly, she tried to make the silky warmth flow all over her.

Niamh responded by pouring faster, letting the yoghurt flow in a thick stream until the suit filled up to the opening, and then using her fingers to guide it further down.

“Stretch your legs. Let it flow all the way down.”

Alex moved languidly when she shifted her weight, breathing deeply through her teeth as if she was sitting in a very hot bath. It appeared as if the black rubber grew tighter on her skin as the warm fluid slowly oozed along her limbs, smoothing out every crease on the surface. The last spoonful left a cobweb pattern in the back of her neck, and Niamh couldn’t resist licking it up as she closed the zip again. She thought it tasted surprisingly familiar and decidedly sexy.

Very gently, Niamh laid Alex down on the divan and began massaging the yoghurt in; letting her hands travel all the way from the toes up along the legs. She lingered a few seconds at the back of the knees, which caused Alex to wince and giggle, before she continued to squeeze the impressively muscular thighs. She was still very jealous of those.

Alex sighed deeply as Niamh lowered herself down on top of her like a spider closing in on its prey.

“Oh, this is...”

“Sshhh...” Niamh hissed, kissing her on the cheek as she moved into position. “Je praat te veel...” (You talk too much)

She could almost sense how her mind gradually shut down to function only on instinct as she started moving in accord with the warm, softening body underneath her. There was something extremely sensual, almost feral, about everything she perceived. The body heat, the hammering heartbeat next to hers and the heavy, hoarse breathing together with the feeling of soft rubber on her skin. The strangely appealing squishing sounds and the competing smells of sulphury sweet latex, milky vanilla and what could only be described as Just Alex. It was purely electrifying, and she could only imagine how Alex felt in her clingy, gooey second skin.

Niamh absorbedly watched Alex’ delightfully animated face, a perfect image of someone having the ultimate erotic dream. The little noises she made; purring and whimpering, made Niamh think of a luxuriating cat. She felt a surge of excitement when she perceived a gentle swell rolling through Alex, and began moving more encouragingly. A smile flickered past Alex’ lips as she playfully tugged at one of the ring attachments on Niamh’s surf suit. Someone was obviously having a pleasant little fantasy, she thought.

The barely noticeable ripples gradually grew more intense and Niamh could see and feel Alex trying to stay in control, although she was too far gone for that. The exhilarating, spine-tingling feeling of power made Niamh even more aroused. Taming tigers into kittens, hiding claws in pretty mittens...

A slight, gurgling moan marked the ending of the prelude, and Niamh suddenly felt rather lightweight when Alex began convulsing. She wrapped her arms and legs around Niamh and clung on to her, slapping violently against the sheathed divan, which creaked disapprovingly. Niamh fought back, writhing and slithering, and managed to wrestle herself free as Alex ran out of strength. She quickly reached for the cup and poured a couple of melting ice cubes into her mouth. Lavishing Alex’ nipples, neck and belly with icy kisses, Niamh managed to create a few sparks of lucidness in her eyes long enough to make brief contact; only to watch her slowly fade into orgasmic bliss again.

She came to rest on top of her, warming the chilly spots where the ice had left wet streaks with her own body. To protect them from the cold draft from the windows, she pulled the rubber sheet up and wrapped it around them both. It felt heavy, but it was keeping the tremendous warmth radiating from Alex trapped in a cosy cocoon.

Niamh lay still and felt Alex breathe under her, watching her as she seemed to drift into unconsciousness with the tip of her pink tongue sticking out between her teeth. Creamy yoghurt was slowly seeping out from the suit at the neckline, forming suggestive little white pools on the sheet. Only the persistent throbbing between her legs kept her from drifting off as well, but she didn’t mind waiting.

Soon they would both be in the shower, probably too preoccupied with each other to bother with tidying up; which suited her just fine. But right there and then, lying in the dim guest room under the sheet together with Alex, she felt as if she couldn’t ask for anything more. Silent tears of relief trickled down her cheeks. How lucky could you get before the tide turned on you? Best not to think about that. Best not to think anything at all.

Chapter 8: Redemption

It was strange to witness how the summer colours gradually faded into a completely new palette in a matter of days, Niamh thought. This was something she had missed for years, having lived in a big city for so long. Even the sky turned a brighter shade of blue, as if someone had decided to put it a bit higher up to fit in all the heavy clouds waiting their turn. Maybe there would be a chance of snow come Christmas this year.

The battered aluminium mudguard started to feel really cold through her corduroys, and she felt a little silly for leaving her mobile behind. She did that ever so often now, but that was only because she seldom needed it. The only thing she had to learn now was to stay out of sticky situations; which in her case was practically impossible, as it would seem.

Niamh thought about trying to climb back into the Land Rover through the passenger door, fire up the engine and hope there would be some go left in the heater. She decided to leave out the acrobatics for now and settled for moving her bum closer to the radiator. It was still warm enough to make the bonnet a good cold-bottom resort.

Two small figures appeared on top of the slope. The one propelled by four legs gave a yap when it caught sight of Niamh and raced down the trail, closely followed by a slightly less speedy biped equipped with colourful wellies.

“’Ullo, Oscar!” Niamh mewed, knowing it would drive the Scottie mad with excitement. “Eaten all the ‘amsters, ‘ave ye? Ooh, dirty paws; dirty, dirty paws”.

“Hello, Niamh.” said the wellied girl. “What’s happened?”

With Oscar wildly circulating her feet expecting a treat, preferably meaty, for being such a Good Dog, Niamh got off the bonnet and wiped her hands on her trousers.

“Oh, you know. I’m not as used to off-roading as Major Tom here.”

“You’re well off it now, if you didn’t know it already.”

Niamh felt a twitch in the corner of her mouth. Here was the 12-year old girl who leased fleabag horsies to batty, not enough noveau-riche parents with kids bored stiff with country life; and gullible middle-aged women having a deep affinity for girls like her. The latter on the pretext of having no time for poor old what’s-its-name; such a fine thoroughbred. Posture; check, repartee, face and gestures...check. I pity your little brother, sis.

“Yeah.” Niamh sighed, “I sort of noticed on account of lack of solid ground under the wheels, thank you.” She picked the still gyrating Oscar up, receiving pretty paw prints on Alex’ Burberry jacket. “I didn’t realise you used to walk Ossie here, Millie. Long walk from home, eh?”

“He goes wherever he wants. I just follow him round.”

Millie pouted her lips and weighed the airborne front wheel of the Land Rover down with her left foot. Oh, I forgot her stance. 21st century Landed Gentry, junior female version.

“Look, I’ve got to get back to get some help with this.” Niamh said. “Best to get it done before it gets too dark.”

“Don’t bother.” Millie fished out a pink and chrome mobile of her coat pocket. “I’ll give dad a ring. He’ll bring the quad and get this sorted like zap;” she said, snapping her fingers. “and you won’t have to tell what happened.”

Oh, yeah? No wonder Alex took a fancy to this girl. It could have been her niece, or even her daughter.


The amiable Mr. Whitley and his massive ATV pulled the Land Rover out and got the engine running in a blink, only dropping his sunny smile briefly when checking under the hood. He wondered why someone had fitted a York engine in it, and Niamh could only shrug slightly. She had no idea, and decided against saying anything about the good thought of bringing the engine back to its natural habitat.

Millie turned down her father’s offer to ride the quad home, handed Oscar to him and climbed into the muddy old fighter. Niamh wondered what she had in mind, but was careful not to let anything show.

Negotiating carefully to find third gear without too much noise and double-clutching, Niamh tried to reassume conversation without knowing where to start.

“How’s school, then?” she managed over the din. Lame. Lamelamelame...

“’S all right.” Millie sighed, suddenly turning to watch Niamh intently. “Heard you were in an accident.”

“And a bad one at that. Yeah.” Niamh shuddered. “I was O.K., though.”

“Uh-huh.” The girl contemplated her for a moment. “Are you still afraid?”

“Of what?”

“You know, driving. In a car. Is that why you drive out here, staying off the roads?”

Niamh suddenly felt how her face lost all colour. Oh, bugger. She hadn’t told Alex anything about it; that was for fucking certain, she thought. How could the girl know? It wasn’t the car; not the driving itself that caused her problems. No. It was the corners, intersections and narrow lanes stretching and meandering between stone walls, and the sudden notion of losing control. The leaden feeling, the numbness, blindness and the last lucid thought: This is it. Small fractions of the accident had begun to resurface in her mind, and now she thought she could actually hear the tortured engine perform its magnum opus before being buried under a few feet of sheep muck and dirt. She felt sick to her stomach.

“It was the same for me, actually.” The girl continued unabated.


“When I was seven I fell off a horse and broke my back in like three places. Got metal screws. I was this close to being paralysed.”

“Oh, fuck.” Niamh breathed, nearly stalling the car.

“Then I didn’t ride for years. I’m still feeling really weird sometimes, but I try. Not on the same horse as then, though.”

“Harry. That’s why Alex rides Harry.”

“Yeah. “ Millie rubbed her nose. “You’ll get better. It gets easier.” She yawned, showing of a set of beautifully even white teeth. It wasn’t until now Niamh noticed that some of them were replacements. A tiny, barely visible white scar marked a line across her mouth. The fat lady had been on stage for her too. “If I could, so why shouldn’t you?”

“Right.” Niamh smiled, forcing the Land Rover to jump a small obstacle. Just like an old, bug-bitten horse with a tricky leg. “Why shouldn’t I? And oh, did you know they fried a thing that was growing on my brain when I was in hospital?”



The little living room fireplace in the cottage was glowing invitingly, spreading a pleasant warmth that wove a spell over Niamh. She was half asleep in the old, generous armchair, only hazily aware of Alex entering the room. Still breathing heavily from shifting the last of the wallpaper rolls, paintbrushes and whitewash buckets, she sat down on the footstool next to Niamh’s feet. A swift, lithe movement later, Niamh was wide awake.

“Oh, Christ! Alex! Not now, please.”

“This little piggy went to prep school...” Alex cooed, reluctantly easing her grip on Niamh’s left leg but keeping the toes immediately within easy reach. “And this little piggy has something to tell me, I believe.”

Niamh quickly tried to unscramble her mind. What have I done now? If Alex would have felt like having an argument over something, she surely wouldn’t have waited a whole day to throw it in her face, would she? They had been at it all day, giving that “last touch” to the winter dwelling place, which had involved arduous redecoration for two nights and manic cleaning for more than ten hours straight. To Alex it was just another way of blowing off steam and get a little extra exercise, but Niamh felt a little put on a pedestal when she was constantly told to take it very easy if she made an effort to help Alex out. She got tired just by looking at how hard she went all out for it. It can’t be the Land Rover. I haven’t tried to hide her smokes.

Alex reached for something in her left front pocket, gesturing like a cabaret magician facing a particularly dim audience. She presented a pale blue piece of paper, which she unfolded slowly. Niamh straightened up in the chair when she recognized what it was.

“I found this when I disposed of some old newspapers.” Alex said flatly. “It was very nice to read that Theresa is quite smitten with you, dear.”

“What? No, wait…” Niamh fell silent as Alex raised two fingers, smiling coyly.

“I don’t know if you actually wanted me to find this or not, but it was an entertaining read. You two are quite a match when it comes to having naughty ideas, do you know that? Now, what exactly were you planning to do? Please tell me, sweetie.”

Alex stood up and put her hands on her hips, tipping her head slightly. Even looking somewhat exhausted dressed in a denim shirt and bib trousers with lots of white stains, she emanated that certain something that made Niamh cower a little in her seat.

“It was my idea.” Niamh sighed. “Maybe I was just trying to get back at you for setting her off on me…You know, you told her what I got off on and…”

“I admit that. Don’t you think I trusted you- and her as well- not to go too far? I know her. It was merely a matter of introducing yourselves to each other in a more interesting fashion. I didn’t put you through some kind of test, even if you seemed to believe that.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Just another mind game.

“Although I felt a little ashamed for setting you up like that, sweetie. This little letter made me feel a little less so, if I might add. What was it you said about ‘your idea’?”

“It was more like…Well; I wanted to see how far we could get her to go…”

“Now, that’s something, isn’t it?” Alex laughed. “We? So you’re suggesting that it’s a ménage-a-trois you’re after?” She crossed her arms across her chest, leaning over Niamh who was trying to shrink even further.

“No. No, not like that. I mean, I would never…”

Alex grinned and sat down on the footstool again, facing Niamh. Her eyes betrayed the gleeful mischief she so carefully was trying to conceal, but that was by no means any signal to relax. A playful tussle didn’t mean ‘no claws’, Niamh thought.

“Oh, of course not. What you’re trying to say is- and I gather that is what Terry wants too if I get this right- you’re not actually going to try anything that would make me cross, but rather…”

“No sex, I swear. It was meant as a show, that’s all.”

“Right. I know how responsive you are, and I also feel that your charm would eventually topple Theresa. She wouldn’t be able to resist you if you went through with this at full blast, even if I kept her on a leash. There’s a thought, of course… ”

“You said you trusted her.” Niamh put in sullenly.

“Yes. But I know her a bit better than you do. Anyway…” Alex continued, trying to adjust the pair of glasses that to her mild irritation weren’t on her nose before unfolding the letter. “I really must say I like the idea of it all, sweetie. I never realised you were that keen on these games. Quite frankly, it was a very pleasant surprise that got me a little bit tingly.” She moved a finger along Theresa’s scribbled lettering with a naughty look on her face. “Ah, yes. You read this, didn’t you? Whose idea was it to play with anaesthetics?”

“She began talking about adding gas to André’s breathing control kit. His mates dabbled with ethyl chloride, poppers and stuff, but she thought nitrous oxide would be cool. I sort of suggested something like that as well.”

“Well, it says here that she has…er…acquired a cylinder of Entonox-which I believe is rather hard to get- and something else as well. I wonder what that might be.” Alex purred, her face split by a devious smile. “Oh, and there’s this new machine she’s trying to describe here. That could be something worth trying, I think.”

“I’m a bit lost here, Alex.” Niamh said. “Did I hear a ‘go ahead and do it’ from you a minute ago?”

Alex neatly folded the letter and put it back in her pocket. She flexed her fingers and leaned forward, and Niamh could sense a familiar smell of excitement around her apart from the sweat, dirt and paint.

“Let’s establish a few things first, shan’t we, dear? First of all, I’d very much like to alter a few things in the scenario to avoid too many hurt feelings should things go out of hand- in a nice way, sweetie, don’t look at me like that. Secondly, I have quite a few additions to your scheme, and they are not negotiable. I’ll tell you what they are, because pro tertio; I call the shots. Understood? I won’t have any discussion about that, and I’m certain Theresa will comply without any fuss, because you are going to make a telephone call this very evening to tell her the good news. Hm?”

Niamh nodded, looking a bit stunned. Alex planted a kiss on her forehead, leaving a slight trace of lime and dust on it.

“This weekend, perhaps including one day or two extra would suit me fine. See to that, won’t you, sweetie?”


Like a belated gift, the following day arrived with the promise of the relatively hot and dry weather of a classical Indian summer. Confused birds put aside their thoughts of having a little holiday down south for a while, and there was a mild cacophony of fluttering wings and all kinds of birdsong in the garden. Niamh had taken up station amongst them in a deckchair with her little portable office, catching up on a few assignments that would mean a few extra quid even if it wasn’t much at all. She had Tim to thank for that. He kept sending her work he knew she liked to do, although he had no real reason to.

One of the many hedgehogs rambling across the grounds made a pleasant diversion. Niamh watched the little creature slogging its way through the growing grass, with the snout moving like a probe. It wasn’t easy to believe that the sweet little thing was actually in the process of securing its future by fattening up as much as possible before winter swept in. There was always a harsh reality behind all the picture book cuteness, she thought.

Lately, she had experienced something slightly disconcerting, yet somehow longed for about her own way sense of assessment. She had finally caught up, not only on her work but on her own situation as well, and a strange feeling of serenity had appeared in her usually haunted mind. The traumas of recent weeks had forced her to reconsider a few things in her life, but it was as if the same events had flushed out all excess emotional baggage as well. What had come to pieces in her mind suddenly fell back into place again, and the puzzle finally began to make perfect sense. Not by magic, but pure logic.

Distantly smiling, she traced the golden ring with her left thumbnail. Perhaps passion created its own pure, albeit a bit fuzzy, logic. Soon enough, everything would be perfectly clear.



There were strange sounds coming from inside one of the downstairs rooms. It sounded a little like someone trying to call for help. The aluminium case opened up and spilled out its contents on the floor as Niamh let go of it, scattering her portable office all over the carpet. Niamh covered most of the hall in a few flying leaps, heading towards the sounds. She caught sight of a pair of feet sticking out from in between the lounge suite in Alex’ study, and noticed a slight twitching. God. She’s having a stroke. She’s dying.

Nearly throwing herself over the back of the two-seater expecting the worst, she stopped in mid-leap when she discovered Alex listening to music in her ancient headphones, lying splayed out in the midst of several old album covers scattered around her. The sudden appearance of a pale-faced Niamh made her jump.

“Maar wat nu, ben je nou helemaal…?Will you stop scaring me like that!” Alex groaned, looking bizarrely extra-terrestrial dressed in a pair of worn joggers and a sweater with the white hemispheres clamped over her ears. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, I…It looked like…I thought you were in…I mean, I heard you and I thought you…”

“I was just singing along,” Alex chuckled, “and I have no idea what you’re on about. Was I that unbearable, sweetie?“

“No, sorry.” Niamh exhaled, grimacing a little when she felt her head starting to ache. “I was just being silly again. I overreacted. Why are you on the floor, Alex?”

“Short flex, see? Besides, I did this when I was younger.” Alex moved her hands over the covers. “Now you won’t even have the pleasure of looking at covers such as these when you’re listening to music. You don’t even care to burn CD: s any longer, do you?”

“John Cale? Brian Eno? Not a trace of your usual classical stuff. What’s gone into you?”

“Paris 1919 and Before and after Science, that’s what. These are classics, mind you.”

“Having a laugh, are we? All right. Excuse me for asking, then.”

“Relax, dear. I was just feeling happy, that’s all. Reminiscing a little. Quietly celebrating, perhaps. I didn’t want to disturb you if you had some work left to do when you came back in.”

“Celebrating? Have I missed something?” Niamh humphed, rubbing her temples.

Alex effortlessly got to her feet in a single sweep and tiptoed to her desk, where she spun the Mac around for Niamh to see.

“Take a quick look at these figures, won’t you. Then you might be able to tell if there is any reason to celebrate or not.”

Niamh needed a moment to read through what was on the screen. Alex rested her chin on her right shoulder, humming silently.

“Nice.” Niamh concluded. “Congrats on lining your pockets with another 700, then. What’s the biggie?”

“You cynic.” Niamh received a well-measured slap on her cheek. “You’re getting it all wrong again. This is as far as I can tell the result of the stock tips I received from you in March.”

“I was pissed and played darts on your list with a pencil, Alex.”

“Nevertheless, the outcome was nothing short of fabulous. I sold some off three days ago, and was simply amazed when the figures arrived. The markets have all gone haywire since last autumn, and they’re talking about bear market rallies and all that. This is what we gained from that. You should consider taking this up, at least on the side.”

“Oh yeah. 3A- Alcoholic Analysts Associated. I still don’t see the elephant in the room.”

“Take a closer look. Tax, fees…The 700 are on the debit side, jongedame.” Alex muttered. “Read the figures on the right. Half of it is yours, I believe. As we agreed.”

Niamh peered at the screen, blinked, and gave Alex a quick look to check if anything suspicious was going on. Sweet Mary, mother of Christ; what have I done to deserve this much luck? Her voice was rather unsteady when she spoke again.

“Exactly how much did you invest? How much did you spend on…Oh, Christ.” She swallowed twice before she continued. “I can’t believe you actually took that big a risk.”

Alex laughed girlishly, stroking Niamh gently over the shoulders as she had to sit down.

“Hm. Well, I did consult a few other sources as well- none of them nearly as accurate as you, though- so you might say I didn’t downplay the actual risks. Still, it’s not always fun to play safe, is it?” Alex triumphantly added. “The additional bonus to this little surprise is twofold; of which the first part is called Guess who’s doing the cooking tonight where the answer in the key consists of the words Not Me…”

“You bloody well know that I always mess it up…”

“Not if you wish to derive at least some pleasure from part two. We’re moving the remaining things from the garret tonight, dear. I thought we could take the opportunity to warm up a little before the weekend, and continue to celebrate the corrupting effects of money on people who has recently acquired…” Alex mockingly peered over Niamh’s shoulder again. “As we prefer to say: a massive wodge of wonga.”


Packing up and getting all the goods out of the garret proved to be the easiest part. First of all the cottage only offered a limited space for storage, and much of it was already occupied by various things Alex had put there. She had a few alternate hiding places, but that meant carrying a few heavy boxes back to the main house again. Then, there was the trivial but slightly irksome problem of finding the suitable gear for the night when it wasn’t where they thought they had put it.

“It would be a bit easier for me to know what to look for if you spelled out what you had in mind for us.” Niamh complained. “You said we were ‘going out’, all right; but tell me where to start here, please.”

“Easy.” Alex tore the plastic cover off a rack and kicked a cardboard box over the floor towards Niamh. “This time I’m not really sure you’ll like what I’m thinking of, but I guess you’ll have to bear with me- again.”

“I’m starting to feel a bit insecure about this when you say that. I don’t want to ask, do I?” Niamh sighed. ‘That face tells me I’d better not bother.”

“Rubbish. I will try to be as kind and considerate as I possibly can. There’s no point in ruining your health for a moment of pleasure, sweetie. Trust me.” Alex declared, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear in a familiar gesture. Niamh instinctively winced, knowing what it meant. “By the way, it was a wise choice to serve something a little lighter- I did tell you I loved the fish, didn’t I- because it might have been less easy for you otherwise.”

Alex resolutely sought out her attire first. To Niamh’s delight, she chose the black jodhpurs from their first session together, but instead of the beautiful cream-coloured blouse she picked a less ostentatious ink blue buttoned shirt with long sleeves. Niamh thought little of it until she laid a hand on it and noticed how it felt against her fingers.

“Whoo-a. What is this?” She put the sleeve under her nose and sniffed. “It’s latex all right, but what have they done with it?”

“Smooth, isn’t it?” Alex crooned. “Frankly, I have no idea. It’s quite heavy, but very supple. Not too expensive either, if I remember correctly. Very nice.”

After letting Niamh decide on a mac for her to wear for later, she quickly donned the ensemble wearing only a plain, transparent bra underneath. There was something in her expression telling Niamh that a pair of knickers would only be an annoying interference. Then, Alex handed her a hairbrush from her toiletry bag, a pair of riding boots and made herself comfortable at the dressing-table next to the bedroom window.

It wasn’t all that bad helping Alex with the boots, Niamh thought, even if she was really hard to please when it came to polishing them to her satisfaction. She could swear that Alex waited for her to work up a good sweat just for the hell of it. She liked brushing her hair much better, and Alex never made a single remark when she did. Now, Niamh watched her savouring every stroke of the brush with her eyes closed and the little pink tongue tip lizarding between her lips. She had only managed to touch up her tastefully sparse make up a little before Niamh’s sleight of hand bowled her over, but Niamh couldn’t imagine how Alex could possibly look any better than she did right then.

The remaining daylight seeped in through the small window, making the bedroom look like an offbeat illustration to The Wind in the Willows. This was definitely something she could get used to. For a moment, Niamh considered suggesting that they should spend the evening indoors in front of the fire instead, but she was a little too curious about what Alex was up to.

Humming with satisfaction, Alex ushered Niamh back into the other room after having her hair pinned up in a French pleat.

“I know precisely what I want you to wear tonight, dear.” she said with a minute trace of glee in her voice. “I’ll help you get dressed. It won’t take long.”

It turned out that Alex’ help mostly meant pointing to where Niamh could find what she had in mind, and giving a few instructions.

“I think these tights would do fine.” She said, holding up a pair of dark greyish tight trousers with feet, which seemed a bit on the durable side. “I know they look a bit old and boring, but we’re going outside after all. They won’t rip in the first place.”

“Nothing wrong with them.” Niamh tried, catching them as they came flying through the room.

“Except, of course, from a lousy fit if you don’t have your crotch right above your knees. There you have the reason to why they are practically unused. They might be better on a shorter figure even if they can deliver a dastardly pinch if you pull them up too tight.”

Alex seemed to ponder on the next move for a moment. She went to the rack she had already uncovered and removed a hanger with a brand new long-sleeved top that was one of her little gifts to Niamh. It rippled and sparkled in the fading light, and the metallic black colour seemed to merge with Alex’ blue shirt. It seemed to come alive in her hands.

Before handing it over, she bent down and fished out something reminding Niamh of a thin, black rubber sheet. It turned out to be a cape made out of lightweight latex, which Alex rolled up and tossed to Niamh.

“Get on with it now, sweetie. Off with the knickers right away.”

A thing Alex wouldn’t miss was to help Niamh with the dressing aid. Suddenly her hands, slick with a generous amount of lubricant, were all over every patch of naked skin about to be covered in rubber. The thin film seemed to preserve the heat from her fingers, and Niamh imagined invisible patterns being drawn on her body as Alex busied herself with smearing the fluid onto her skin. It was a strangely intimate feeling.

“You know,” Alex mused, “I wonder if it was such a good move to keep this much rubber and toys in here, now when you’re around.”

“You think I’ll overdose, then; or just create total chaos?”

“Well, maybe. I’m a bit afraid you’ll wear me out when you feel better. Then I’d have to retire next spring, and you...”

“Alex. I’ll keep you fit.” Niamh laughed. A light pat on her shoulder told her to turn around.

“Right hoof first; up we go.”

Getting the top and trousers on was no match at all thanks to the many slippery handfuls of lube, but Alex found it hard to let go of Niamh before she had achieved a soft, deep gleam with her hands and a soft sponge nearly dripping with the viscous silicone oil. She especially paid attention to the top that hugged Niamh in a very interesting way, accentuating her curves.

“Oh, I nearly forgot.” Alex said. “Bring me the small bag to the left over there in the back, and the gloves-I think I remembered to unpack a pair for you too- and your pair of riding boots which I put in there somewhere.”

Niamh tiptoed into the makeshift walk-in wardrobe to fetch the boots, holding the bag and the gloves under her arm. She found the boots on the floor, but as she crouched down to reach them she caught sight of something further into the darkness that made her heart miss a beat. She wasn’t entirely sure what everything was, but she could clearly recognise a few sets of evil-looking restrains, something that looked like an ordinary large plastic bag apart from the drawstring sewn into what could be a collar, and masks. Gas masks. Many more than the ones she knew about.

It looked as if Alex had more in stock than previously accounted for. She had admitted, even if they mostly had only lightly touched upon the subject, that her husband had left her quite a lot of enticing things. Niamh didn’t really see why she kept so much of it hidden from her- if that indeed was her intention- perhaps it was just sitting there waiting for the right moment to be used. It bothered her that some of the stuff seemed pretty new. Maybe the overdose theory was not that far out after all. So what’s in the bag, then?

“Are you coming, nosy girl?” Alex voice echoed. Niamh backed out of the wardrobe, nearly knocking over a fully loaded clothing rack.

She watched, a little reservedly, as Alex pulled out a bundle of wires and a box attached to a belt of the bag. There was a little plastic box too, that contained a set of blue jelly-like pads with tiny sockets and a small tube of something smelly.

“I think you’ll find this a new and exciting experience,” Alex stated, “although there are a few things I have to tell you.”

“I think I know what that is. I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You’ll be amazed how nice it feels when you do as I say. If you want to make things difficult,” she went on, waving a little plastic thing on a key ring. “I’ll use this. Normally I’m perfectly happy to keep the setting on these two dials quite low. Only enough to make it tickle a little...or buzz. You decide. But if I press this button, you get a few seconds of very unpleasant sensations. That won’t happen, will it, sweetie?”


“Good. Spread your legs and let me get inside those pants now. This won’t take long.”


As Niamh took the first tentative steps on the bridle path she began to feel a little more relaxed about this little rubber night raid. Although it was eerily quiet, it wasn’t as dark as she had expected it to be. The moon was nearly full, and everything green had turned a silvery grey shade. The air felt a bit nippy, but quite fresh and increasingly pleasant as they ambled along.

Niamh was amazed of how the thin layer of latex on her almost seemed to absorb the atmosphere and reflect it; the light, the breeze and her own body heat making it more and more supple for each minute. She was wearing a paradox; a protective cover that made her feel ever so exposed. The thought of a thousand little eyes watching them made her spine tingle. It was pure delight to be able to feel so shamelessly excited just by simply walking. Alex chuckled a little when she noticed that Niamh fell into a strutting gait, almost flaunting herself with her cape flapping freely in the light wind.

Fifty yards behind them the Land Rover was parked under a convenient tree. Alex had insisted they would drive across the grounds to enter the path on the far side of the small but ghastly wood. Niamh didn’t argue even if she thought it would have been nicer to have a midnight snuggle down by the pond, all by themselves. There were the ducks, though, which could pose a slight inconvenience if they felt like it. She was also amazed with how well Alex handled the vehicle. It was almost as if old Major Tom appreciated to partake in covert midnight operations such as these, running smoothly and stealthily through the dark.

“Where does this path lead?” Niamh asked, brushing her gloved hand through some fern. “We aren’t going to get lost, are we?”

“Not on purpose. No, I have another little surprise for you.” Alex breathed. “Those lights down there is the village. We’re just passing Whitley’s lands.”

Not wanting to spoil the fun, Niamh decided not to ask any further questions. So far, everything seemed pretty all right to her. It was almost like moving around in a dream, but at the same time feeling very real indeed. She stopped to take in the nocturnal scenery, and was amazed to see the sky changing in colour closer to the horizon. It was like being out at sea.

Alex closed in on Niamh, wrapping her in a pair of arms weighed down by the heavy mac. The rustling noise the thick rubber made seemed so loud in the stillness, and it sent tiny shivers down Niamh’s spine. She squirmed to free herself, trying to get within reach for a kiss. The feeling of Alex’ lips on hers nearly drained all blood from her legs. God help me if she wants to play rough tonight. I feel like crying already.

A silent clicking noise followed by a prickly sensation in her lower regions told Niamh that the game was officially on. She didn’t tense a single muscle, and Alex seemed gratified at that, leaving the setting on pleasurably low.

Niamh moved her fingers across the ripples of moonlight on Alex’ shirt, which was gleaming invitingly like the surface of a pond. She teasingly kissed the spots where she could feel the budding nipples underneath the restricting layers, lapping as gently as she could just to make the presence of her tongue felt through the rubber.

“A little more, please.” she wheezed, pressing herself firmly against Alex. “It feels good.”

“Does it now?” Alex breathed in her ear in such a way that Niamh could nearly feel her devious smile. “Well, perhaps just a tad, then. We’re running a bit late for our appointment, and I want you to be able to walk, sweetie.”


Niamh felt thoroughly befuddled when she was dragged and pushed through the thick undergrowth. Alex was heading towards where there seemed to be people, a few cars and an ugly little house.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Niamh squeaked. “Why are we going out there?”

“Shh. We’ve come to do a little spying. Don’t let them know we’re here yet, will you.”

They stopped behind a decrepit fence only a few yards from the house. There was a French window leading to a makeshift deck, and Niamh could see some people on the inside. At least six cars were parked alongside the lane in the back of the house, and Niamh thought she could see something stirring in at least two of them. She looked accusingly at Alex, who tried not to laugh.

“I believe they refer to these gatherings as council meetings of some sort, which they aren’t, of course.” Alex whispered. “Here we have the prominent villagers getting together to discuss old business...tittle-tattle, that is.”

“Let me guess why you were never invited.” Niamh hissed. “Who are these people, anyway?”

“Those you’d better avoid if you are going to stay with me, I’d say. Fergus can’t abide people smoking or any animals in his humble abode, so you’ll see nearly all of them any minute now. They probably have been in there for nearly an hour or so by now.”

“Won’t they see us?”

“Ah, well...” Alex silently lowered herself down behind the fence, keeping a firm grip on the belt around Niamh’s waist. “They most certainly will not take any notice of you if you manage to keep still... and silent. Stay put, dear. If you move, it’ll be painful.”

Niamh shuddered when she felt a sharp increase in the intermittent, prickly sensations in her crotch. She had only just steadied herself when there was a sudden crackle of cellophane wrapping, and the moist, sucking sound of someone enjoying a bonbon.

“Keep this for me, won’t you?” Alex whispered from down below, and her gloved fingers inserted a bittersweet-tasting lozenge in Niamh’s mouth. “I’d very much like to get it back later, so make sure you don’t bite it, swallow it or drop it. Understood?”

Someday she’ll get us arrested. Killed, even. She forced herself not to bite down on the lozenge when people started coming out on the creaking deck to adjust their nicotine levels. There were a few familiar faces, but Niamh didn’t know them all by name. Just as well if I’d fuck up. I’m a sneeze away from disaster. Luckily, they seemed to be preoccupied with themselves and a bit hampered by having been in a brightly lit room for so long. It all seemed to work out well if she only could bear the electric pulses that made her want to wiggle.

Then, she felt a sudden touch of cool air on her humid flesh as Alex began rolling her trousers down, bit by bit. The latex reluctantly let go of her skin, and the sensation of rubber fingers tickling and caressing her almost caused an involuntary hiccup. She had to close her eyes when two fingers slowly but determinedly slipped in between her labia and further into her. What felt like Alex’ thumb rested right on her rear exit, and she shifted a little uneasily when it occurred to her that someone obviously didn’t settle for a playful massage this time. She relaxed, and the intruder slid in easily thanks to the generous amount of dressing aid. Niamh realised that this could take a nasty turn when Alex raised the stake further by letting a few more fingers in up front, and at the same time make use of her other hand. She tried to fend her off by swatting Alex on the arms where she could reach, desperately focusing on football or Curious George, but her body responded without her consent. Inside! Get your fatty arses through that door now, you oik-oid bastards. I’m dying here!

It was impossible to keep still, and she desperately tried to hold on to the rickety fence, which offered no support but added to the trouble by screeching woodenly in unison with her tremors. The lozenge in her mouth began tasting vaguely of spices and her eyes started to water. Shit. It’s one of her Chinese ginger bombs.

A bearded man on the deck stepped into the shadow to clean his pipe, and hesitated as a whimper escaped Niamh. She held her breath, which only made the burning taste in her mouth more intense, until the man turned around and spoke in a slightly whiskey-stricken voice.

“Sarah? Did you take him for a walk before we left?”

Dogs. There are dogs in the cars. Niamh thought. She barely noticed Alex’ surreptitious moves under the swaying cape until she lost grip of herself completely. Forcing herself to stay upright and silent until the last person had entered through the French window, she finally succumbed to the orgasm. It was like bringing milk to a boil within her, a sudden surge of white, fluffy froth flowing over the sides and then subsiding as quickly as it appeared. Her knees folded under her, and she only managed to voice a strangled gurgle of surprise as she fell backwards into the arms of Alex.

Niamh was gently being pulled away from the fence, further into the shadows before Alex helped her get to her feet. Deftly rolling up Niamh’s trousers again, she shook her head and tut-tutted silently.

“Wh-what?” Niamh blurted, still feeling slightly out of touch.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep still, dear?” Alex shook out the key ring from her sleeve. “Let’s see if this might teach you a lesson.”

“No! Please!”

There was no sudden shock to her sensitive parts when Alex pressed the button on the plastic device, but a fraction of a second later all hell broke loose on the parking lot when all the car alarms went off at once in a veritable cascade of light and sound. The dogs, trapped inside the cars, went ballistic.

“Well?” Alex smiled devilishly in the flashing, coloured light. “Aren’t you going to run? Go! Now!”


It proved to be no easy task to get her breath back after running like a stunned chicken and laughing heedlessly for almost half a mile along the path, but Niamh still managed to produce a few hearty curses before stumbling to a halt in the long grass.

“You...It was a fuckin’ trick...” Niamh panted. “Clever. Really. Ha ha.” She unplugged the battery unit on her belt with a single tug.

Alex, looking as composed as ever, standing tall and imposing with her hands at her hips, smiled with mitigated delight as she peered back into the gloom.

“I like those little spy gadgets.” She breathed heavily, dropping the key ring into a side pocket. “How has our little excursion been so far, young Miss?”

“I didn’t expect anything like this. Jesus Christ.”

“Quite a romantic night, isn’t it?” Alex took off her mac and spread it out on the grass. “Come here and give me a kiss, you little minx.”

Alex gave a snort when she felt the tiny remains of the ginger lozenge being pushed back into her mouth, and nearly lifted Niamh off the ground, making her shirt creak in protest.

“Oh, sweetie.” she cooed with delight. “Well done!”

With a few deft movements, she unbuttoned her jodhpurs and beckoned Niamh to kneel before her. She buried her fingers in her hair and guided her right, gasping silently as Niamh went to work.

There was something different and very enticing about how Alex tasted tonight, Niamh thought, hungrily exploring every bit she could reach with her tongue and digits. Apart from the heady pungency of sweaty rubber and the unmistakable fragrance of Alex herself, there was this tinge that mysteriously titillated her neurons. The metal’s gone. It’s not there.

Alex drew breath between her teeth when the ginger began to singe her sex. Niamh suspected this was an expected effect, and buried her face even deeper. She had it all planned. Again.

There was a sigh of relief, and Alex relaxed. Niamh barely noticed the passing climax, but withdrew instead of pushing too hard. She held her right palm and her opened mouth next to the throbbing lips, anticipating something else to happen. Alex didn’t respond to that, but rolled nimbly down on her back pulling Niamh on top of her.

The air was beginning to feel a bit moist, and dew was wetting them down as the lay there. Soon it would be time to get back to a hot shower, but Niamh felt like having a wallow for just a while longer even though her rubber cape was clinging to everything on her, feeling clammy and cold. Alex was still warm like a cliff on a sunny day. She decided to rouse her a little, and carefully guided her hands beneath her trousers. A tiny spark lit up in Alex’ eyes and Niamh could feel the fingertips exploring her behind. She arched her back when they found their way inside, carefully wheedling her to open up a bit wider.

A little clumsily, Niamh rolled over on her side for Alex to reach better, and instantly she felt the fingers sliding deeper into her. It was a strange, full sensation, but it wasn’t all that unpleasant.

“Do you expect me to make you come by doing this?” Alex whispered. “Do you think I’m that experienced?”


“You’re a strange creature, dear.”

Only for a second, Niamh tried to imagine what it would be like if Alex could fit her whole hand in. It barely worked up front, and it would probably not be a good idea to try more than four fingers? Oh God, what’s she doing? It...Oh, it works.

Suddenly there was a howl not far away, followed by irate barking.

“Oh, the dogs. Damn it, they’ve let them loose.” Alex hissed. “We’ve got to move, I think. Pretty fast, dear.”

“Wait!” Niamh listened to a sound not very far from her. “Fuck it, they can’t have found us already.”

The faint noise of quickly moving paws was approaching them, and Alex sprung to life, hauling them both onto their feet. There was a happy yap, and a familiar figure entered the moonlit spot.


He began performing his usual ritual dance around Niamh, barking happily. Alex nearly doubled up with laughter.

“Pull your trousers up and follow the poor mutt home, would you, please.” she said in between fits. “He seems to have a real crush on you, and I can definitely sense some jealousy here. I’ll pick you up down the lane.”


There was obviously no easy way of telling how a night out with Alex would turn out, Niamh thought as she watched a few luminescent clouds near the horizon. Tonight it was her turn to go for walkies.

Oscar the Nocturnal Scottie criss-crossed the path in front of her, occasionally checking on her to see if she still was with him. He seemed really happy to have found a companion to roam the countryside with, but since exultant was his default state of being Niamh noticed no great difference.

“Millie told me the other day that you liked to be out and about.” Niamh said to the dog, which was fleetingly interested in a dead bat. “I wonder was she has to say about you running away like this, in the middle of the night and all.” Oh yes.

There was a slight problem that suddenly dawned on her. If she was supposed to see Oscar home she couldn’t just walk up to the main entrance, ring the bell and excuse herself for disturbing them this late, and then hand their little beloved over saying goodnight. She quickly checked over herself. The cape was still looking great in the bleak light, but it clung to her like a damp rubber cloth, and the tights were riddled with interesting samples from the surrounding vegetation, Alex and herself. Her gloves had the unmistakeable smell of sex on them and looked like a coat of black paint complete with suspicious stains. The only thing on her that still felt entirely enjoyable was the top she wore under the cape, but the cold sweat of nervousness trickling down her back underneath it wasn’t at all nice. Good evening. I vish only to return your pet, monsieur-dame; I zerefore resent hafing ze garlic throvn at me...

Well, she actually could just have walked right up, strutting her stuff like nobody’s business just for the sheer hell of it if it only had been someone else. Now she had to come up with a better idea before they got there.

Oscar stopped dead and seemed to listen for something, and it struck Niamh that his little escape probably didn’t go unnoticed for long in that house. That meant they were out looking for him, and it would be awkward as hell to run into someone blinding her with a torch. She didn’t know what would be worse, any of the kids or Mr. & Mrs. Decent-looking Whitley.

Niamh thought her boots made an awful lot of noise as she left the path to help the dog over the wall, and tried to follow without sounding like half a brigade. There wasn’t much there to hide behind except for some stunted trees and shrubs.

“Mil-lie! Be careful when you cross the brook.”

Oh, shit. It was the voice of Millie’s mum, telling Niamh which family member was the closest to where she was squatting. She dropped Oscar to the ground and whispered as soft as she could.

“Go find Millie, Ossie. Go.”

Niamh watched the dog set off like a torpedo through the ferny grass, and within a minute she could hear Millie’s scolding voice over Oscar’s excited barking. She exhaled and straightened up, aching slightly with all the sneaking. She could see the silhouette of the girl heading back home against the lights from the house.

Suddenly there was the noise of a diesel engine in the background, and for some reason Millie picked the faint sound up and turned around. On an impulse, Niamh waved at her. She could see Millie wave back with her torch, a little hesitantly, before she decided to scarper.

In the relative safety of Major Tom, Niamh placed her head between her knees and groaned. She was too knackered to laugh any more.

“Did our furry four-by friend find his way back home?” Alex asked as they bumped along.

“No prob.” Niamh sighed, brushing the hair from her forehead. “But now I think someone has found out about my secret identity...”


Story continues in Part 5

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