Suzanne's Slave

by Maid2serveher

 

Part III

 

She held up a pair of lime-green plastic panties for me to see. They were ruffled in the back, but smooth in the front. They were thin enough that when Melba put her hand inside the panties, the clear outline of her fingers was evident. It was clear that I would be pantied, but my privates would still show. Even with the two words written across the front of the panties in black script:

"MELBA'S SLAVE."

"Those who see you will not have to ask whose slave you are, and since you won't be in a position to tell them anyway, these panties will tell them all they need to know."

She ordered me to sit, and as she pulled the panties over my crotch, I was able to lean forward enough to look into a full-length mirror and see that the padding behind me spread the front panel tightly from hip to hip and over my privates.

The words "MELBA'S SLAVE" stretched from one hip to the other.

Melba added the finishing touches: canary yellow ankle straps with a four-inch chain, and a lime green, 3-inch leather collar with matching two-foot braided leash.

She then took rolls of Polaroid pictures. She posed me standing and sitting, taking overall shots and close-ups. She then showed me the photos.

The shot of my reflected a garish, young Betty Page look-alike, all bound up with nowhere to go.

Melba grabbed my leash.

"Showtime," she said.

I followed him out the door, pleased that my hobbles at least allowed me to waddle behind her with more than speed than when I had entered the room. We went down the hall and into a large room at the end of the hallway. As we neared the room, I heard the dim sounds of several conversations. As we walked through the door, Melba ordered me to stop and bend forward. I looked around. There were at least 50 people in the room, all dressed in fetish gear.

"What a beautiful slave," I heard one black leather-clad mistress say to Melba, "but what have you done with Rubberized Rhonda."

Melba pulled hard up hard on my leash, which forced me to stand completely erect.

"Look at the panties," Melba said to the mistress. "They will tell you Rubberized Rhonda's fate."

The mistress laughed and Melba ordered me further in the room, to an area where there were several tables with chairs.

"Sit," she said.

I squatted meekly until I felt my but hit a low stool, and scooted over until I was on it.

"You may lean forward so that you may see," Melba said.

I bent my body forward until my high-arched neck allowed me to look around. A woman was seated across from me in a flaming red leather mini dress, her legs spread apart to reveal shocking white and pink panties.

"This is Betty Page, nee Rubberized Rhonda," Melba said.

The woman, Clarisse, smirked.

"Marvelous," she said.

"And where," Melba asked, "is Submissive Slut Suzanne?"

"Right here," said Clarisse, waving behind her. I looked at the glistening black, armless statue behind her.

"Right here," Clarisse said again.

I studied the motionless shiny rubber figurine and realized that the molded form was really Suzanne, wrapped into a head-to-toe rubber sheath. I finally fixed on the tiny eyeholes, and saw Suzanne staring at me, shocked but mummified.

"Her arms are wrapped tightly in rubber straps behind her, " Clarisse said. "I've got an electronically controlled dildo inside both cavities, and another device for her nipple clamps. Watch."

Clarisse held a button on her gadget and Suzanne's waist wiggled slightly. She held down another and her chest wiggled. But I became distracted because when Clarisse pressed the second button, my nipple clamps started to jolt me. I moaned to Melba in protest.

"Oh, sorry," said Clarisse. "I had that device on broadcast. It obviously shook a few people up."

I looked across the room. A diapered and pinafored man was moaning behind his pacifier gag; a woman in a gold leather corselet and beige straightjacket was twisting and moaning behind her ball gag, and a back-to-back bound and gagged plastic bondage maiden and butler were squirming and crying. All of them had obviously been triggered into pain by Clarisse and her remote-control.

"That's okay," said Melba, waving her hands at Clarisse's electronic torture device. "I forgot to tell my slave that she may be punished for the sins of others. Leave it on broadcast. That's half the fun."

"Very well," said Clarisse. "Are you going to display Rhonda?"

"Yes," said Melba. "Let's see how well she plays with others."

She grabbed my leash again and motioned me to get up.

She guided me over to a brightly-lit area and attached the end of my single glove to a pulley. She pushed a button on the wall and my gloved hands rose skyward. When Melba stopped, my ass was exposed, my single-gloved arched high, my body stooped, but my hooded head at eye level with the bottom of her white latex outfit. She pulled up the front of her dress so that I could see the outline of her panties. My eyes widened as I stared at her panties.

What I saw was the outline of a penis beneath the panties.

Melba is a transvestite?

I couldn't help it. I moaned loudly.

"Now you can see a little of the trouble that's coming your way," she said, rubbing her panties against my face. She patted me on the ass and left me hanging while she returned to Clarrise and Suzanne.

How embarrassing, I thought. Dominated by a drag nurse. Was she going to try to have her way with me? All I wanted was to be Suzanne's slave. But Suzanne was wrapped up right now and in no position to rescue me.

I gazed around the room and saw that at least half a dozen patrons were checking me out. The diaper-dressed man toting her diaper bag came over with his mistress, who wore a white rubber Blouse and black rubber hobble skirt and red boots.

"What do you think, Hiram?" the mistress said. "Should I spank her?"

Hiram sucked in and out on her pacifier.

The mistress walked behind me. I felt her touch my butt and rub it.

By now my gum rubber hood was steamy and it made it hard for me to see. But I could make out Hiram's smile as his mistress played with my buttock and my crotch. A crowd formed. Soon, I was just hanging there while mistresses, masters and slaves toyed with my panted ass and occasionally using their remote controls to jolt my nipples.

Finally, they tired of me and left me alone.

As my "normal" breathing returned, I could see more clearly across the room, and I saw a couple of male rubberized bondage maidens wrapping four-inch thick belts around the rubberized statue that was Suzanne. They belted her first at the waist, causing her belly and hips to swell. They belted her just below her breasts, and just above her breasts, causing her breasts to explode. They belted her from her chin to her nose, forcing her cheeks to balloon outward. And then they started swatting at her form with foot-long whips of rope.

My vision was cut off by Melba, who had slipped out and re-dressed herself. She now stood in front of me in a high-neck purple evening dress with a slit from the hip on down. She looked even taller in 6-inch black heels and a bee-hive blonde hairdo.

She released me from my chained single glove and I collapse to the floor. To my surprise, she let me lay there while she released the chain between my ankles and replaced it with a three-foot wide spreader bar. Suddenly, I felt my feet arch up in the air. Melba was hanging me upside down, slowly, gradually, so as not to ruin my outfit. Finally, my head was about a foot off the floor.

The flared bottom of my dress fell over my breasts. My corselet and pantied buns were in full view. My single glove rocked free behind me, and my still-collared head faced the floor. Another pulley from the corner of the ceiling was attached to the wrist area of my single glove, and the winch pulled my gloved arms and my upper body toward the wall. My knees bent and my arms twisted. I was now at a funny angle, with my eyes fixed on the floor behind me. My arms strained. Melba grabbed a belt and started to paddle my ass. I tried to scream by my gag muffled my cries. And cry I did, as my ass turned rosy red.

Then Melba left me to hang. And hang.

Many hours later, as the party thinned, Melba came back to unshackle me and to lead me back to the bondage room.

After being allowed to shower, I was allowed to eat some bread and water, my first meal in at least a day. Then it was back to bondage.

I was cinched into a bizarre rubber corset with huge, liquid filled breasts. A rubber penis harness was fitted into my sex and around it. I was dressed in a black, frilly rubber plastic bondage maiden's dress, rubber hose and boots, a black wig, and a freaky gas mask.

I was handcuffed and leashed and led back into the now empty entertainment area, where I was led to a hanging bar. My neck was locked into the base of the bar, and my gloved hands were attached to shackles at either side of the bar. My legs were elevated so that they wrapped around a bar behind me. Melba busied himself without saying a word, and hooked attachments to my heavy hood. When she turned it on, the mask inhaled and exhaled on its own, blowing up and squeezing itself tightly against my face and gagged lips.

She adjusted the machine and the mask blew up, but when it came against my face, it stayed for what seemed like ever. I couldn't breathe. When it blew up, I gasped for air and held my breath as it came toward my face again.

"Ah, perfect," Melba, said. "Good night, slave."

I have no idea how long a was left this way. People came and left the room and ignored me for hours, except to stop and laugh at my predicament. They were maids and butlers and busboys, all busy cleaning up after the party. I kept thinking I was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. But instead I found that my constriction kept my body wide-awake.

Finally, as the morning sun peeked through the windows of the room. Melba and the maids returned. They let me loose and returned me to the room where I dressed. I was stripped and allowed to show once again.

Melba told me it was time to begin my diaper training.

Melba handed me a pair of see-through plastic panties, decorated with a red checkered pattern, but clear enough that you could see my privates. They had heavy duty elastic bands in the leg and waist openings, and were relatively loose. She then handed me a matching baby dress, bib and bonnet to match.

I put them all on.

Melba grabbed a container of baby powder, reached inside my plastic panties and emptied the can of powder into the

Front and back of my panties, snapping them back into place.

She stuck an oversized pacifier into my mouth and tied it together at the back of my head. She wrapped my hands in

Clear plastic wrap until they were clearly bound in a ball, then secured locked plastic mittens to them.

"You won't be getting out of this mess anytime soon," she said. "You will learn to give up control of everything, including your need to potty."

She then secured me into a giant potty chair with straps around my forehead, neck, arms, elbows, wrists, waist, knees,

And ankles. Into the air hole of my pacifier she stuck a thin plastic tube attached to a faucet above me.

I felt the trickle of soothing ice water run into my mouth. I started to swallow.

"Drink up," said Melba, "but don't wet your panties until I command you."

The first 10 minutes I swallowed normally, and began to feel as if I had enough. Built the flow kept coming and I could

Not stop it. Soon, my stomach felt as if it would burst, and I had to pee badly. Still, I tired to hold it. When Melba returned,

She was wearing a clear plastic, floor-length sheath dress. She wore matching plastic panties and bra, which let me see the

Outline of her sex. She was carrying nipple clamps and once again began to massage my nipples through my plastic baby Dress. These nipple clamps hurt.

She unzipped the slit on her skirt up to her waist and straddled the potty chair, her flat chest in my face, her ass on my crotch. She wiggled sexily.

"I'd think you want to pee?" she said.

She reached for a shoelace beside the chair and tied it to the ends of the nipple clamps. She pulled on the shoelace and my nipples followed her movements.

"But I guess you want to play."

I really needed to pee. But with Melba's weight on me, I could not.

"You sit here until your potty chair is full of pee," she said, dropping the shoelace but leaving the clamps on. I felt relieved. Soon, I heard to sound of pee hitting my plastic panties.

Then I discovered the true horror of my bondage. Not a drop fell into the canister. Instead, my panties held all my pee.

My panties would hold a lot more pee before any started to trickle into the pot.

My butt started to itch from the pee.

"You're going to have one helluva of panty rash by the time your done," Melba said. "But since you're going to be all tied up for several hours, I've decided to give you a special treat."

Melba attached a breathing apparatus around my nose. The line ran to a small, clear canister behind the chair.

"Inside this canister is the punishment plastic that Suzanne wore while in this chair yesterday," Melba said. "I

Thought you'd enjoy her smell." The smell was actually a combination of pee, baby powder, perfume and sweat. Once again, the thought of Suzanne undergoing the same punishment got me excited.

"I can't wait until tomorrow," said Melba. "That's your wedding day."

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Maid2serveher. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.