Chapter 5: Fran Dresses To Thrill
It was a different Fran that returned to the bedroom, and closed the door. Gone was the facade of being the purely innocent that she had always lead people to believe. Her legs still feeling like Jelly, her bottom on fire from the arse fucking she had just cruelly received, she threw down the remnants of the, now torn dress across the bed, and then sat down momentarily in order to reflect upon the days events. That afternoon she had been a willing party, to what she thought would have been...perhaps should only have been, a harmless bit of flirtation. Up until that moment on Larry's little fishing boat, she had been an anal virgin, now it felt as though she had received baptizism by fire!
In no way was she disappointed, the way her heart raced bore testimony to that, the hunger for more still raged between her loins, as she glanced down at the clothes Stuart had laid out for her across the pillow. Tentatively she picked up a small powder blue lace top, and examined the fine intricate workmanship that had gone into its creation. The lace-work was so fine, so sheer, that it rendered the top completely transparent. With a slight struggle, she tentatively slipped it over her head, taking care not to damage the delicate fabric: Her body, still slick with perspiration from Larry's administrations making the job even more difficult. She desperately needed to shower, but he had forbidden that, his words still ringing in her ears. He wanted her to smell like a whore...like the slut she was to become.
Unclipping the fastenings at the top of her stockings, she peeled them off and discarding them, watching as the thin nylon glided through the air and onto the floor. Placing her hand between her legs, she felt the wetness from Larry's seaman, still seeping from her anal opening. Already the sticky secretions at the top of her legs, beginning to dry into a white powdery substance.
"Oh...I'll smell like a whore alright," she whispered quietly, holding her sticky fingers under her nose, and then placing them between her hungry lips before sucking on them greedily. "And taste like one too!"
Removing the suspender belt, she next examined the skirt that lay on the bed. It too was powder blue, but here all similarity ended. The skirt was minute, no more than a thick belt, and seemed to be made out of the thinnest Latex imaginable. Fran had heard of people wearing rubber, and had always regarded them as being 'a bit kinky' but here she was, about to taste the joy's of what she had always thought strange.
It proved almost a nightmare to put on. The rubber sticking to her damp skin, pulling her naked flesh this way and that, threatening to tear it off her very bones, but at last she managed it, and then cursed herself for not noticing the small container of talcum powder that had been put out, in order to assist her.
Fran felt slightly uncomfortable at first, feeling the tightness of the Latex, as it clung to her naked skin, stretching, following her every movement, as though it was part of her. The feeling soon passed, only to be replaced by a new feeling, a more sensuous feeling. Examining herself in the mirror, her eyes following the line of her long slim legs, as they disappeared out of sight beneath the hemline. She knew instinctively, what the little rubber skirt had been designed for. It was designed for sex, not for comfort or to follow the latest fashion trends...but for the pure sensuality that it gave to the wearer: Every curve, every 'goose bump' defined through the thin rubber material. It filled her with wicked excitement, to realize that even to the most casual of observers, it would be blatantly obvious that she was devoid of all underwear.
"Everything alright Madam?" quizzed Stuart, as he casually walked into the room un- announced, and catching her by surprise. He appeared to be holding something in his hands. "Master Larry is waiting in the car downstairs, he asked me to give you these."
He held out a matching pair of shoes, and what appeared to be three very fine gold chains. Fran took the proffered items, puzzled at what they could possibly be for. The shoes were obvious, but the tiny golden chains had her completely mystified, they were much too fine and delicate in their composition, to be worn as jewelry.
"If Madam would allow," suggested the butler, holding out his hand after seeing the confusion on her face.
Taking the chains from her, and suggesting that she raise her arms a little. He leant towards her and wrapped one around her slim waist, taking care to ensure that the tiny catch was fastened securely in the small of her back. Next he clipped on the second chain to the first, at a point just below her naval, letting the free end dangle down towards the floor. She became aware that his fingers were trembling slightly, the thought that she was making this horrible little man nervous, strangely excited her. Then what he did next, took her completely by surprise, it happened so quickly that any objection would have been useless! He reached down, and gripping the hem of her tiny skirt, yanked it up to her waist in one swift movement. Fran let out a gasp at his unexpected audacity!
"Now if Madam would squat please."
Her face grimaced at the way he had uttered the word 'squat' making it sound so vile, so degrading. 'Why on earth would the little pervert ask that!' she thought.
"Please Madam...Master Larry is waiting," he urged, seeing the bewildered expression in her eyes, and then adding, "and we have to fit these."
He held up the two spherical balls, dangling them by the string, causing them to pendulum back and forth in front of her face.
She had completely forgotten to insert the two 'Love eggs'. Her mind had been entirely engrossed with the day's events and by what she was wearing. It was with a little trepidation that she followed his next command.
