Abbie's Fashion Weekend

Abbie wondered just how long the driveway could be as she peered through the wrought iron gates to see it disappearing into the trees beyond. She turned to look down the lane but the taxi was already out of sight. Sighing, she pressed the buzzer, announced her name and watched as the gates swung open.

At least she was expected.

Hefting her various bags, and wobbling only a little, she began what was sure to be a very long walk given her current footwear. She'd practiced, of course, wearing the boots almost constantly for the last two weeks - Abbie was meticulous in her work and this weekend as a guest with her fashion icon, Elsinore Ellis, was the opportunity of a lifetime. However, the preparations had left her exhausted. She had nearly fallen asleep in the taxi. Why on earth had she said she could be ready in a fortnight? Why hadn't she called Elsinore to postpone the meeting? The woman had, after all, given her personal number - written it across Abbie's chest, in fact. And, while she was on the subject, how had she ended up stripped to her underwear, cuffed and gagged and following the fashion designer around on a leash at their first meeting?

Come to think of it, when had she come up with the notion that she should appear at the woman's mansion wearing her favourite creation?

Actually, that seemed a sound decision. Elsinore had picked it out as one of Abbie's best and liked the photo of Abbie modelling it; leaning nonchalantly against her friend's mantlepiece - well, maybe it wasn't entirely nonchalantly, it was more a case of propping herself up because she was wearing the shiny black thigh high toe boots. She did look good in them, though, they extended her slim legs and the black rubber contrasted with her pale skin; then there was the rubber girdle that clung her slender waist and emphasised the swell of her small breasts - cut away, of course to reveal her nipples. She smiled at the memory of Claire taking the shot, of the pleasure of dressing before it, of Elsinore's response to the design. Was it just the design?

Abbie was twenty three. She understood what might happen to a young woman taken into the circle of powerful people. And there had already been that day she'd spent leashed cuffed and gagged, some of it kneeling at Elsinore's feet in front of a crowd of fellow fashionistas.

'Me too,' she muttered, glancing back at the gate and considering how long it would take to walk the four of five miles to the station in her toe boots.

But, nothing untoward had happened. Well, one guy had tried his luck, brushing a nipple - and been quickly rebuked by Elsinore.

'Now or never.'

Abbie put down her bags and undid the belt of her long black leather coat allowing it to swing open revealing the shiny black rubber girdle beneath - and her bare nipples which she found were remarkable stiff.

*

Rounding another bend and perspiring only slightly in the morning heat Abbie spotted Elsinore immediately, lounging in a deckchair on the lawn in front of the large Georgian facade. The woman was dressed in her signature purple, a silk robe as far as Abbie could make out a pale leg exposed where it hung open, there was likely a view of the woman's extensive cleavage too. A table beside her was set with a cup and saucer and china tea pot; another chair stood empty and beside Elsinore's chair... on the ground...

Abbie blinked.

There on the ground beside the designer lay a woman, a naked woman, stretched out spread-eagle, black cuffs on her wrists and ankles, cuffs that were fastened to heavy looking rings fixed to the ground. And.... Abbie stopped. Elsinore's foot was over the woman's face. She was sucking the woman's toe - through a ring gag. The woman was blindfolded. Piercings glinted in her nipples and between her spread legs.

Despite the unfamiliarity of the position, Abbie was sure she recognised the dark skinned brunette as Ramona, Elsinore's PA. The woman who had sorted out her contract on the day she'd met Elsinore and, Abbie recalled, released her from her bondage.

Abbie glanced around. It was probably only four miles to the station.

'Abbie, darling.' Elsinore had seen her and was, even now, removing her foot from her PA's mouth as she waved. 'Do come and join us.'

Abbie swallowed then stepped onto the lawn trying to maintain her balance on the new surface.

'So this is the girdle.' Elsinore parted Abbie's coat and, laden with her bags, Abbie was forced to stand and endure the older woman's scrutiny. 'Nice cut.' She eased out the side of the coat to see the top of Abbie's thigh. 'It looks very comfortable for shape wear.'

'It is.' Abbie lifted her chin and stood straight.

'I must say, you've done well to get here in those boots. They are gorgeous. If Ramona here could see them she'd probably be grovelling at your feet by now begging to lick them.'

Abbie had managed to hold off her blushes but at this she felt her colour rise and couldn't help glancing down at the helpless woman.

'Let's see it without the coat.'

Abbie downed her bags and slid the coat off her shoulders then placed it over the back of the spare chair standing straight again. Elsinore Ellis circled her.

'Lovely work.' The designer turned. 'Ah, here's Jasmin with the coffee. I'm sure you'll want a little refreshment before we start work.'

It didn't surprise Abbie to see that the maid approaching them was liveried in purple or that, on closer inspection, her clothes were made of form-fitting rubber; perhaps form shaping given the black rubber corset that was laced very tightly around her waist overlying the rubber bodysuit which covered her almost entirely - save her breasts and sex and the tops of her thighs where it was cut away to look like the woman was wearing stockings and suspenders; there was a matching neck corset too ensuring she walked with her head up. Her eyes were visible though the hood of the suit as was her mouth which was plugged with a purple ball gag similar to the one Elsinore had made Abbie wear when they'd met at the fetish fashion convention. The maid held a tray containing a pot of coffee and some cups although dangling beneath this was a steel chain that appeared to connect a set of black leather wrist cuffs. Needless to say, her ankle high boots had heels that must have been at least five inches and, like Abbie's were sinking into the turf with every step making her progress slow and necessitating a high stepping gait. From what she could see of the girl; her slim form with minimal curves save those enforced by her garments; her wide eyes through the hood and the glossy black ponytail that swung behind her head, Abbie thought the maid must be of oriental origin.

'Thank you, Jasmin.' Elsinore sat gesturing to the other chair as the tray was set down.

Abbie sat gratefully, watching as the maid exchanged the tea things for the coffee set.

'Don't worry about that Jasmin. Just take Ms Davies' baggage to the studio.'

The maid nodded her understanding, a kind of stiff half bow, and bent to retrieve Abbie's bags.

'Should I hang on to my laptop.'

'No.' Elsinore waved the suggestion away. 'We can talk business later.' The older woman leant forwards to pour the coffee.

Reluctantly Abbie watched the departing maid carrying away all her things including the leather coat and leaving her in just the girdle and boots. At least, she reasoned, she wasn't staked out naked on the lawn.

That's when she spotted the handcuffs, gag and leash on the tray beside the coffee pot.

There was a bottle of suncream too.

*

They sipped their coffee, Abbie trying not to glance at the naked woman spreadeagled, blindfolded and gagged at her feet. It was mid morning but it promised to be a warm day and Abbie could already feel the sun hot on her skin and the black rubber that encased her body.

'Your journey was easy?'

Abbie felt certain that Elsinore was trying to discomfort her. Perhaps it was a test like the one she had presumably passed by allowing herself to be handcuffed and gagged and made to trail the designer around the fashion show on a leash at their first meeting. Despite the humiliation of it, she had obtained some useful contacts among the business cards tucked into her lingerie as she'd passed among the crowd. Elsinore had even praised her designs 'she'll have a show by the end of the year', the designer had said.

And here she was ready to share her designs.

'Yes, I came by train... the taxi dropped me by the gate.'

'And you came dressed like that?' A smile curled the older designer's thick lips with their purple smear of lipstick and her eyes wandered across Abbie's body again. Abbie resisted the urge to cross her arms over her breasts and, indeed to cross her legs.

'I believe in my designs. I want them to be seen.'

'So I see.' A darkly pencilled eyebrow lifted. 'Lucky that coat didn't blow open.'

'I think the boots would have been enough distraction while I got myself covered up again.'

'Indeed.' The smile was fuller this time.

Abbie leaned forward feeling a little more confident and rested her elbows on the table, the coffee cup held in both hands.

'Besides, you know I like to show off my nipples.'

Elsinore laughed.

'But here we are talking fashion again.'

'What else is there?'

'You are a surprisingly confident young lady.'

'Thank you.' Abbie smiled feeling that she had passed another test. She shifted, beginning to perspire again in the hot sun.

'Here.' Elsinore held out the sunscreen. 'I can't have you getting burnt, that would be negligent.'

'Thank you.' Abbie did her best to hide her surprise, then flipped the lid open and spread the cream on her arms and shoulders.

'Too much time indoors, darling. Young girl like you should be getting out.'

'I had quite a tight deadline.' Abbie smiled, closing the sunscreen.

'I like to work my employees hard. Sweating your assets, I believe they call it in business circles.' As she spoke Elsinore slipped her foot out of her sandal and pushed her big toe into Ramona's open mouth. Abbie saw the woman's tongue caress it.

'I wonder if you'd mind ensuring Ramona doesn't burn too.' Elsinore fixed her with an intense gaze.

Two weeks ago, it had been Ramona that had released Abbie after serving as Elsinore's fashion accessory. It had been Ramona that had shared her contract.

This was a line she couldn't cross. Whatever, this woman's power she shouldn't treat her employees like this.

'I'd do it myself, but with my hip, I can't get down that far.'

Well, maybe... Abbie looked down at the helpless woman apparently eagerly sucking her boss' toe through the ring gag she wore.

'You don't mind if Abbie does it do you Ramona?'

Still caressing the proffered toe, Ramona shook her head.

Elsinore raised a questioning eyebrow.

Abbie hid her sigh and dropped to her knees wondering if that was the intention.

She recalled the phrase 'other sundry tasks as will be deemed appropriate' in the contract she and Ramona had worked through when their roles had been reversed. Somewhat to Abbie's chagrin, the woman gave a soft moan as Abbie began to spread the cool lotion over her hot skin realising even as she did so that she would have to cover her breasts and even between her spread thighs. She glanced up at Elsinore who was watching her intently. The helpless woman giggled and squirmed as Abbie's hand rubbed her breasts feeling the nipples pucker as her palms caressed them, the little barbels piercing them scratching against her skin.

'Don't make it too enjoyable for her,' Elsinore said with an edge to her voice, 'she is being punished after all.'

Abbie froze for a moment wondering what the PA might have done to be treated like this. She worked her way down the woman's belly and onto the tops of her thighs.

Elsinore licked her lips as Abbie's hand slipped between the woman's spread legs, finding the skin there slick and wet.

Surely the woman wasn't enjoying being treated like this.

Abbie kept her head down but then realised this involved looking at the woman's gaping sex. She glanced away and then back again feeling foolish. Was it entirely surprising that a leading fetish fashion designer was part of the fetish scene too?

She quickly finished Ramona's legs and feet making the woman squirm even more as her fingers brushed the bare soles.

'Thank you, darling.' Elsinore removed her toe from Ramona's mouth. 'I'll ensure she thanks you properly later. I'm sure she'll want a closer look at those boots too.'

Slipping her foot back into her sandal, Elsinore stood.

'Shall we?' She held up the handcuffs that had been on the table.

Abbie closed her eyes slowly then turned her back to present her wrists.

*

Despite her belief in sweating her assets, the fashion designer was in no great hurry to have Abbie start work. Instead, having followed Elsinore on the leash across the lawn and up the steps, Abbie was treated to a tour of the house. The designer was clearly a collector and very knowledgeable about the items in her collection and in Abbie, she had something of a captive audience although the conversation was a little one sided thanks the the purple ball gag that Abbie found once more strapped between her teeth.

Much of her collection was of paintings purchased, Abbie soon realised, largely for their depictions of the fashion of the time and it was on this that Elsinore waxed lyrical from Elizabethan ruffs to fifties hemlines and beyond. There were some by lesser known French impressionists - dancers and even nudes in the style of Degas. There was a more modern room too with images Abbie recognised as the work of Irving Klaw and Eric Stanton.

'You're not the only one to draw on their influences,' she said pausing in front of an original of Betty Page and a cover of Feminine Form showing Betty Brosmer. As they entered Abbie saw a purple clad maid dressed identically to Jasmin bending over with a feather duster in her hand and couldn't help wondering if the girl might be a permanent part of the display.

They moved on into a salon that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Jane Austen drama. There were several regency dresses on display and in the corner a basket for the family pet. The pet lifted a head, a dog shaped muzzle and long ears, then rolled over and came towards his owner - definitely his; the pet was definitely human, restrained in a leather suit so that he walked on padded elbows and knees; definitely male too with his cock on display in a steel cage. He rubbed himself against his mistress whimpering and then as she cuffed him away did the same to Abbie, sniffing at her before rearing up to display pierced nipples with weights swinging from them and a rapidly swelling cock straining at the bars of its cage. From the noises he was making, it was clear he was gagged in some way although Abbie could see his face properly because of his mask - just his eyes.

'Down, Bobby!'

The pet obediently dropped.

'Go to your basket.'

The pet slunk away.

'Don't mind him,' Elsinore said drawing Abbie on by her leash. 'Once I've got you settled in, I'll remind Jasmin he's due his walk.'

*

'And here we are.' Elsinore paused outside a door. 'This is my studio. We'll get you settled in then you can get to work. I've brought in a couple of my regular models for you. I think you'll find they're just what you're looking for.'

She opened the door and lead Abbie inside.

The space was large and airy, a modern addition to the back of the historical house. Abbie was immediately hit by the scents of a sewing room - the materials, threads, the ozone of the machines but there was more to this one - rubber and leather, oils, leather soap.... There were several mannequins some dressed, some no doubt awaiting Abbie's adornment, rolls of fabric, reels of ribbon, workbenches. And then there were the models.

Abbie gasped around her gag, pulling back slightly on her leash.

There were two women in the room, both naked and both crouched in cages - one blonde with thick wavy hair and grey-blue eyes, the other was dark haired and dark skinned, Asian probably. Seeing Elsinore and Abbie, they both pressed themselves against the bars of their prisons. Both girls were gagged and their hands were cuffed through the bars in the roof of their cages. 'This is Nisha, Elsinore indicated the right hadn't cage containing the Asian girl and this is Olga. They're both very experienced and I'm sure won't give you any trouble. She slid a hand through the bars of Nisha's cage and the girl nuzzled it with her cheek, the cuffs on her wrists clicking against the bars.

Abbie watched for a moment before her eyes were drawn back to the empty third cage.

'Good girl.' Elsinore stroked the model's thick dark hair. Then she turned to Abbie. 'You can let them out when you need them but I'll leave them gagged so you won't be distracted.' She unclipped Abbie's leash. 'Is everything alright darling.'

Abbie gurgled something unintelligible around her gag and Elsinore stepped behind her to remove it.

'You keep them in cages?'

'Of course. Who knows what they'd get up to if I didn't. I keep them in chastity most of the time too although they're being allowed out this weekend so you have full access to their bodies.'

'And they don't mind?'

'I can assure you it's fully consensual darling.' Elsinore teased Olga and the blonde pressed her body against the bars seemingly enjoying the attention. Elsinore crouched and played with the woman's nipple.

'You must be into the scene to produce the designs you do.'

Abbie froze for a moment.

'Actually, I...'

What could she say? I'm a voyeur? I like dressing for pleasure? I like to see others... like this... that...

'I, er, like the aesthetics. And the... tactile nature of the clothes.'

Elsinore's stood, and Abbie thought it was the first time she'd seen the all-knowing designer surprised.

'Really?' Her usual calculated tone was gone. 'You seem such a natural.'

'I..'. Abbie wished her hands weren't cuffed behind her back and that she wasn't standing in this fetishistic temple wearing tight rubber with her nipples on show.

Or was that exactly where she wanted to be?

'This morning must have been quite an education for you.' Elsinore quickly recovered her composure.

'It was... interesting.'

'I hope I haven't scared you away.'

It suddenly felt disappointing when Elsinore released her wrists.

'No.' Abbie said more sharply than she expected; rubbing her wrists because she felt she should more than because the cuffs had chaffed them. 'Not at all.' She added for emphasis. 'Though, it has been something of an eye-opener.'

'Excellent. Then I hope the rest of the weekend will be just as elucidating.' Elsinore placed the cuffs and key on the table beside the leash and the gag. 'Anyway, I'll leave you to it.'

'Don't you want to see my designs.' Abbie took an involuntary step forwards.

'Oh, I'm sure that's not necessary.' Elsinore winked. 'I want to see the real thing. The three of you can surprise me at teatime. I'll send Bobby down to help you. They're very used to working in the fabrics you like.'

And with that, Elsinore Ellis swept from the room leaving Abbie and her captive models.

*

Left alone with the caged models, Abbie did her best not to shiver. Her heart was racing and her palms sweating and, freed from the cuffs, she wondered if this might be a good time to slip away. But maybe that was the pleasure people got from allowing themselves to be dominated by others - no decisions, no expectation.

She glanced over at the cages to see the models regarding her expectantly.

It was probably a good way to keep models! Some of them could be bloody difficult to work with. At least these two couldn't complain. However, she should free them. Whatever you thought of someone it was completely unreasonable to keep them in a cage - gagged and chained.

She was thus surprised to find herself turning her back on them and lifting her laptop bag onto one of the benches, then taking some of the samples she'd prepared from her bag, she lay them out too and hung some partially finished garments over one of the mannequins. Then she did a tour of the room, taking in the abundance that was available to her. As a student, she'd had free access to the workshops of her college and while nothing like as well stocked as this room, she had missed the opportunity to take a piece of fabric here, a buckle there as she was working. She had also missed the fact that she could requisition certain fabrics and accessories even if it did earn her a raised eyebrow or two when she worked in leather and PVC.

Satisfied that she was ready, she turned back to the models finding them still watching her, one pair of grey-blue eyes and a pair of dark ones.

'So, who's going to be first?'

The pair responded at once, gagged pleas, pressing their bodies against the bars of their cages.

'Well, that makes a change.'

Both girls tried to speak around their gags and Abbie felt a strange tingle of pleasure at the power she wielded over them. She might have been lead in cuffed and gagged but now she was in charge.

And maybe this is the pleasure people get from dominating others.

She picked up the handcuff keys and stood before the cages, hands on hips. The eyes watched her, then Nisha's dropped to her boots before lifting expectantly. Abbie recalled Elsinore's comments about Ramona's desire to examine her boots closely. On a whim Abbie, released the dark skinned girl's cuffed wrists and opened her cage door. There was a moment's hesitation and then the girl crawled out on all fours, her long thick mane of hair trailing about her shoulders and onto the floor. Then, bending down, she touched her gag to Abbie's right boot before kneeling up and sliding her hands behind her head. She was deliciously curved, large heavy breasts, with big dark nipples, firm belly and rounded buttocks. A contrast to the thin blonde now watching her enviously.

'Stand up.' Abbie said it with as much force as she could manage but even then she felt her voice tremble slightly. The girl stood, hands remaining behind her head. She really was deliciously curved. Perfect for one of Abbie's designs.

'Turn around.'

The gag was, Abbie saw locked in place.

'Over by the bench.'

The girl obeyed, maintaining her posture. The blonde watched from her cage.

Abbie opened one of her bag and pulled out another of her samples. It was made largely of chain links with leather straps, designed to be a one-size-fits-all harness and, if desired, restraint.

'Arms down.'

The model obeyed and Abbie lifted the garment over her shoulders. She'd used aluminium chain to keep it light. She buckled the collar around the girl's neck and felt her shudder.

'Is that ok.'

'Mmmmm.' The girl nodded quickly.

'You like to be collared?'

'Mmmm.'

'And restrained.'

'Mmmm.' The girl shuddered again.

Abbie fastened more straps, adjusting them as needed; wrist and bicep cuffs; little leather triangles over the nipples.

'It would be a shame not to show these off.' Without thinking Abbie flicked one of the girl's nipple piercings noting how stiff the nipple was.

'She keeps you in chastity?' Abbie said conversationally as the fetched her leather knife.

'Mmmm.'

'And you like that too.'

'Mmm.' This one was accompanied by a slight shrug.

'Makes it more fun when she does let you out, I guess.'

'Esh.' The model gave a little shudder.

Abbie detached the tiny leather nipple covers and deftly cut them then attached rings to the holes she made. Fixing them back on she gently guided the model's nipples through them leaving them along with their piercings on display.

'Your mistress already thinks I have a thing for showing off my nipples.' She looked down, which I suppose is fair enough. 'Did they hurt, the piercings?'

The girl shrugged.

'True submissives have them done by their mistress with a needle.' The voice had a Scottish brogue.

Abbie turned. A man wearing a black leather kilt, boots and a leather collar had just entered. He was probably in his early thirties; quite good looking with short brown hair and brown eyes. His chest was bare and shaved smooth; Abbie saw, his nipples were pierced - a chain hanging between them.

'I'm Bobby.' The man curtsied.

'Have we met?' There was definitely something familiar about him.

'I double as the family pet sometimes.'

'Oh.' Abbie raised an eyebrow but found it more amusing than surprising. 'Did you have a nice walk?'

'Yes, thank you. Jasmin took me out.'

'Shouldn't you be calling me Mistress or something?' He really was, Abbie thought rather good looking.

'If you wish, Mistress.' There was a hint of humour in his voice and Abbie knew he was mocking her.

'Does Elsinore ever punish you?' Abbie folded her arms and squared up to him.

'Rather frequently, Mistress. I'm not as obedient as I should be.'

'And am I supposed to punish you too?'

His eyes flicked over her body taking in the rubber girdle and lingering she was sure on her bare nipples before moving to her crotch and then down to her boots.

'I think I'd rather enjoy that, Mistress. If you're offering.'

'Perhaps later.'

'I'll look forward to it, Mistress.' There was a twinkle of humour in his eyes.

Abbie frowned realising the process of domination was clearly fraught with difficulties.

'But for the moment you're here to help me?'

'Indeed, Mistress.'

'I prefer Miss Davies.'

'As you wish, Miss Davies. He nodded. 'Just tell me what you need.'

*

Bobby proved surprisingly dextrous, trimming the leather of Nisha's costume and removing or adding chain links. He advised too on lining the leather cuffs and adding locking straps like those on the girl's gag. In less than two hours, they had the garment and restraint adjusted to her body and the seams stitched, cuff rings triple stitched - again at Bobby's suggestion. Nisha stood with her wrists cuffed in front of her body, elbows drawn back behind; a short chain between her ankles. More chains encircled her body and a leather triangle, now capable to being locked in place, covered her sex.

'I might suggest these, Miss Davies.' Bobby produced a pair of ankle high toe boots to finish off the outfit.

'Yes.' Abbie smiled. Elsinore's assistant or pet or whatever he was seemed entirely comfortable accepting her direction, making his own suggestions and, indeed, now referring to her as Miss Davies with no hint of irony. 'And will you be needing and toys?'

'Toys?' Abbie wondered for a moment what he meant.'

'Will you require any toys to lock inside Miss Nisha? Phallus? Vibrator? Anal plug? We have a a number of options.'

'Oh.'

Having negotiated the morning relatively confidently, Abbie suddenly found herself blushing.

'They're not a requirement, of course but I'm sure Nisha would enjoy them. She's been in chastity for two months now. A little respite might be nice. Mistress Elsinore often uses them on her models, she says it increases their sex appeal - how they walk, stand. If you look carefully, you can see a difference in their expressions too. It's part of the reason she keeps them in chastity before a show.'

Abbie simply stared at him. These really were a different breed of model to the ones she was used to. She glanced at Nisha who regarded her expectantly with large dark eyes.

'Yes, but later. We don't want to be ruining the effect by starting too early do we?' Abbie paused. 'By the way, what time does Elsinore take her tea?'

'At 5pm precisely.'

'Then perhaps we should aim to play with a few toys at four thirty.'

'I'm sure that will give them ample time to get in the mood.'

*

Dressing Olga took longer. The blonde was taller and leaner although slightly too angular to be a perfect fashion model. Her form screamed, in Abbie's opinion, for some sort of military cut and she had a design although not samples. Again, Bobby proved invaluable, apparently understanding exactly what Abbie was showing him in her design until Olga wore a cutaway white military style blouson with lace panels and matching culottes over a red lace bra and briefs with shiny red PVC ribbons to trim. Abbie accessorised with a bandolier, military style cap and strappy sandals laced with the same shiny ribbon as the underwear.

'Nice.' Bobby admired their work. 'You certainly have quite the eye. I think Mistress will expect a collar and leash - for this demonstration at least.'

'Ok.' Abbie nodded. 'I don't just want to do bondage.'

'Of course not but if you're going to make an entrance you should at least have a couple of fashion accessories on leashes.'

Abbie found herself colouring as she remembered the way she had let Elsinore treat her at the show and on leading her into the mansion.

'And for Madam...?' Bobby asked when Olga had been restrained.

'I've been working on something.'

Abbey pulled out a blue catsuit she'd made in her final year. At the time, she'd wanted it to shine and had spent most of the twenty four hours prior to the exam for which she'd made it polishing frantically. Now, she wanted a different look. She'd spent the last day of the two weeks she'd given herself to create the designs and samples shredding it garment. She planned to twist and knot it and probably tie in leather thongs. She'd managed about half of it.

'I like it!' Bobby seemed genuinely impressed. 'You have footwear in mind?'

'I'm going barefoot.'

'Oh.'

They spent the next three hours shredding and knotting and twisting and then Abbie stood while Bobby adjusted the knots and moved strands strategically.

'I assume Madam realises her nipples are on show.' Bobby grinned at her.

'Miss Davies wouldn't have it any other way.'

'It's approaching 5pm.'

'So it is.'

As they had worked the two models had watched them, shifting occasionally apparently unconcerned at the wait or their enforced bondage and silence. However, with the promise of what was to come they both became quite excited, especially when Bobby reminded Abbie about the use of toys. He had Olga's back pressed against him before Abbie could respond and she watched as he slipped a small vibrator into her knickers, switched it on and pushed the battery pack inside her. Olga squealed with pleasure.

'Won't that fall out?'

'Not a chance.'

Olga shook her head, her eyes shining with excitement.

'Will you be doing Nisha?'

Abbie was suddenly caught off balance. She was fairly used to handling models but not that intimately. She was about to demur when Nisha came to stand in front of her. Bobby held out a large black ribbed phallus and the model looked at it suggestively.

'Isn't that a little extreme?'

Nisha shook her head and Bobby laughed.

'Well, if you insist.'

Bobby passed Abbie the keys to the locks that held the model's crotchpiece in place and Abbie undid it.

'Won't I need some lubricant?'

Nisha laughed through her gag.

'I'll find some if you need it.' Bobby passed Abbie the phallus and the model turned just as Olga had.

There was no need for lubricant and when Abbie's fingers confirmed this Nisha gave a delighted squeal and pressed herself back against Abbie's body suggestively. The tip of the phallus slid in easily and Abbie felt the girl squirm as the first of the ribs passed through her labia. By the time it was inside, Nisha was panting, squirming wildly and tying to press her sex against Abbie's hand.

'I think that will keep her amused.' Bobby observed dryly as Nisha gave a small plaintive cry when Abbie locked her back in her leather panel.

'And for Miss Davies?'

'I'll be fine.'

Bobby regarded her disapprovingly.

'I'm more than capable of putting on a show for Elsinore without the need for toys.' She folded her arms across her chest. 'Or were you hoping for something else.'

'Little chance of that.' Bobby lifted his kilt to reveal the steel cage locked around his cock. 'Besides, I'm not sure you're what I'm looking for.'

Abbie suddenly realised she was staring at his captive cock and lifted her gaze. 'And what are you looking for.'

'I'm more into the dominant type.'

'Perhaps I'm dominant.' Abbie lifted her chin and tried to look at him cooly.

'Maybe.' He smiled disarmingly. 'And if you are, maybe you'll get the keys to this one day but I recall you were lead in here on a leash with your hands cuffed.'

Abbie swallowed colouring slightly. 'Shall we get on?'

'Elsinore will expect toys.'

'Fine but I put it in myself.'

'You're the dominant one.' Bobby passed her a phallus smaller than the one she'd just pushed inside Nisha and not ribbed.

Abbie looked around wondering if she could slip into the bathroom without appearing too prudish but in the end turned her back, unzipped the crotch of her shredded catsuit and slid it inside surprised to find that she didn't need any lubricant either. When she turned back, all three were staring at her and Olga gave a little giggle. Abbie blushed and looked at the blonde realising only then that the source of the model's mirth was nothing to do with her own actions but the vibrator between her legs.

*

Bobby lead, carrying Abbie's laptop, opening doors; Abbie following, the two leashed models trailing her wake, Nisha tottering in her toe boots, ankle chain clicking and her ample breasts bouncing while lanky blonde Olga strutted in her military style outfit and heels, limbs now free of their restraints. They met Jasmin emerging from the salon, about to close the double doors behind her having delivered her mistress' tea and she bowed to them, almond eyes running over Abbie with her 'accessories' before flicking to Bobby who entered.

'Madam, Miss Davies is here with her designs,' he announced rather theatrically.

'Miss Davies?' There was amusement in Elsinore's voice. 'She seems to have your measure, Bobby.'

'She has quite a demanding way about her, Madam.'

Bobby indicated for Abbie to enter and, glancing at her charges she stepped hesitantly across the threshold a little surprised and disappointed to see her idol stirring her tea. It certainly wasn't the entrance she'd hoped for. There was a moment's silence in which Abbie felt herself starting to blush.

The designer looked up.

'Do that again and make me look at you.'

Abbie stood for a moment staring unsure at first if she heard correctly but a slight dismissive wave confirmed her orders. How dare this woman treat her like this. If she'd been alone else.... Abbie turned and lead her charges from the room.

She entered again, and was once more sent out.

Anger blossomed inside her. She had idolised this woman and the euphoria of being noticed by her, taken on by her, had overcome the humiliation of being leashed and collared and of the other 'tests' the woman seemed to be putting her through. Enough was enough. This woman might be a fashion goddess but she had no right to treat Abbie like this, she wasn't a plaything to be at the woman's beck and call to be forced to parade in front of her with...'toys' inside her. Furious, she stormed back into the room dragging Nisha, half stumbling and a startled Olga behind her...

To find Elsinore Ellis sitting up in her chair.

'Very good, my dear.' Elsinore clapped. 'We'll make a fashion diva of you yet.' The designer glanced at Bobby. 'Leave us.'

'Very good, Madam.' Bobby bowed and withdrew, closing the salon doors behind him.

'Tea, my dear?'

Abbie stood for a moment trying not to tremble then nodded. 'Black,' she snapped more harshly than she would have hoped. Elsinore smiled and poured tea from an elaborate china pot into a matching cup then stood, passing Ellie the cup.

'Let's take a closer look shall we.' Elsinore picked up her own cup and, sipping the tea began to circle Olga.

*

There followed a masterclass in fashion design that Ellie would have paid all she had to enjoy were it required; an exploration of subtleties, of fabric choice, cut, emphasis, accessories.... When Olga gave her little laugh again and Nisha looked enviously at her, Elsinore gave Abbie a little smile.

'I see Bobby has been giving away some of my other secrets.' She sipped her tea as calmly as if she were discussing something other than using sex toys to make models more alluring. 'But I think you may have left it a bit late.'

'Less than five minutes probably,' Abbie held back the sigh that was building.

'Not bad for a first attempt though.' Another sip. 'And I love the designs. Especially this one.' She pointed at Abbie. 'That is remarkable. And the bare feet.'

'I suppose I was going for a tough desert girl look.'

'You suppose?'

'It was how I imagined a villainess in a story I read.'

Elsinore nodded.

'The hair needs work. Too neat. Every part has to be wild and exciting. The make up too. If you're going to model your own designs, and I strongly believe you should, you need to think about your whole look.'

'Yes, M...' Had Abbie been about to call her 'Madam' or was it Mistress... Elsinore?'

Elsinore gave her a broad smile.

'I am very much looking forward to us working together.' She set down the cup. 'Christian and Ramona will be joining us for dinner. I trust you will make a suitable entrance.'

'Yes, Elsinore.' It felt almost hard to say it.

'I rather like Madam, Miss Davies, but Mistress will do.' She smiled. 'You do know your nipples are on display again don't you?' She reached out and brushed Abbie's right nipple.

'Yes, Mistress.' Abbie felt room becoming uncomfortably hot and, at that moment was reminded of what she wore inside her.

'Off you.' Elsinore waved a dismissive hand. 'Leave the laptop. I want to have a proper look at your designs.'

*

For dinner Abbie wore her rubber ballgown. She'd made it for her graduation ball: strapless and low cut, her nipples not directly on show if barely covered and clearly outlined by the thin rubber stretched tight over her breasts; her midriff was bare and the cutaway scalloped suggestively low; the skirt was split too, pleated rubber swirling around her legs.

On the night of the graduation ball, she had worn nothing underneath but on this occasion she slid on a pair of rubber knickers - red ones to contrast with the black and draw attention to them. Before donning them, she'd inserted a 'toy' and then spent a few minutes moving somewhat vigorously until she was sure its presence was represented in her appearance - the heave of her small breasts, the flush on her pale cleavage, the sensations within her body. It made her review her make up. This wasn't the wild girl look of the torn catsuit but she realised she didn't want the simple femme fatale look she'd started out with.

In then end she went with vampire whore come gothic princess come fantasy enchantress - lots of red and black and big hair. She styled a few ringlets too and changed the choker for a studded leather collar then added torn rubber stockings and heels.

Just before going down to dinner, she took out her phone unable resist a selfie thinking she might send it to.... Who would she send it to? 'Hey, hanging out with Elsinore Ellis.' Somehow it seemed over sharing. Maybe put it on her social. As a student she'd been constantly publishing pictures and ideas - just like everyone else in her class but 'Hey, I'm still waitressing and waiting for my big break' hadn't quite had the kudos she'd wanted. Besides, she'd not really wanted to share her designs until... When was she going to share them?

She checked the WiFi and found it needed a password and with nowhere to keep her phone, she left it in her room.

Ramona joined them in the dining room, apparently restored to a state of grace, fully clothed in a leather dress that was less worn and more strapped to her slender body. Christian looked somewhat conservative in his red and black paisley jacket and black open necked shirt even if he did wear it with leather trousers and riding boots. Her look certainly resonated with him and she was sure Elsinore... Mistress Elsinore gave her an approving nod as she strode in - something that made her confidence soar.

The designer herself was in her customary purple - body-shaping rubber under a leather frock coat, breeches and knee boots.

Bobby lay in his basket in the corner of the room.

There was no sign of the models but the other maid, the one Abbie had seen dusting, served them. The food was good and the wine soon flowing, a contrast to their first meeting around cups of strong filter coffee. The talk was of designs and fashion shows including catwalk incidents involving some designers that Abbie had heard of and at least three who had deposited business cards in strategic locations within her underwear at the show where she'd met Elsinore.

Then, after dinner, their hostess produced Abbie's laptop and they took port and coffee while she went through the designs. Abbie had tried to drink minimally but her thoughts were not as clear as she would have liked in contrast to Elsinore who had seemingly drunk prodigiously but remained razor sharp, giving Abbie a second masterclass (or was that mistressclass) of the day. Deprived of her laptop, Abbie resorted to making notes on her arm with Christian's pen until Elsinore stopped her.

'I'll still be breathing in the morning, darling. All you'll have to do is ask if you can't remember. Which reminds me - you'll have to give up that other job of yours and come and stay here while you work.'

'Here?' It slipped out before Abbie could stop it.

Elsinore turned her formidable gaze towards her.

'Er, right. Can I think about it overnight, M.... Ms Ellis?'

Elsinore rolled her eyes.

'I can't see us pulling together a show in the next few moments if you don't but, yes, I'll expect your answer at breakfast.' She turned back to the others. 'Now, are we all agreed?'

There were nods from Christian and Ramona.

'We'll launch you in Manchester.' She turned to Abbie. 'Unless you wish to remain a buyer for that clothing store.'

Abbie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, forgetting her 'toy' and found herself instantly reminded of it. 'I'll do it.'

'Good girl.'

The praise made Abbie blush or maybe it was the warmth of the room and the tight rubber clothing.

'Well, I'm going to turn in.' Elsinore rose and the others stood too, Christian and Ramona leaving a little unsteadily.

Abbie turned to go too but Elsinore's hand caught her shoulder setting her thoughts racing.

She turned realising her heart was racing too.

'Would you like me to send one of the girls to keep you comfortable?' Elsinore smiled. 'I understand you took something of a shine to Nisha or perhaps it was the other way around.'

Abbie swallowed, taking an involuntary step back. She had just failed one test albeit with a recovery.

'No, thank you.' She managed a tense smile and fled the room.

*

'This one today.' Elsinore turned Abbie's laptop to show the design she was expecting.

'Oh.' Abbie had not slept well and was a little hung over. The thought of making that seemed to drain the little energy she possessed. 'Which of the models will it be for?' She took a sip of coffee and gazed out of the window longing for a little fresh air or at least another hour in bed.

'You'll be modelling it yourself.'

'Yes, Elsinore.' Abbie held the cup to her lips and inhaled the strong aroma too weak to argue.

'We're back to Elsinore are we?'

'Sorry, Madam.' Abbie put the cup down and glanced to the basket in the corner of the room. 'I assume Bobby will be available again today. He was very helpful yesterday.'

'Oh yes, I can't see you managing that dress all by yourself.'

'No.' Abbie hid her sigh.

'Perhaps you could take him for his walk before you begin.'

'Ok.'

Elsinore raised an eyebrow and Abbie lifted her cup quickly shifting uneasily recalling suddenly how it felt sitting at the same table the night before when moving like that made the toy within her move subtly.

'Meanwhile, I have Ramona to exercise.' The designer interrupted her thoughts as she stood and dropped a curled leash on the table. She was dressed this morning in a purple leather jacket over a frilled white blouse, tight leather trousers and stable boots. Abbie paused for a moment wondering briefly why Ramona needed exercising but if the PA spent half her life tied up and the other half waiting on her mistress perhaps she didn't have time for a jog round the grounds. The odd turn of phrase and Elsinore's clothing made her realise it probably meant only one thing.

Abbie smiled. At least she hasn't made me do that yet. Then, distracted by a movement, she looked down to find Bobby crouched at her side looking up expectantly.

'Are you ready for your walk, boy?' Abbie said feeling it was appropriate more than with enthusiasm but even saying it made her smile.

The pet nodded and Abbie clipped the leash to his spiked leather collar.

*

Abbie's suspicions about 'exercising Ramona' confirmed she was beginning to understand this strange place. The Spanish woman was once more waiting on her mistress in restraints - this time a white leather harness complete with bridle and plumes; she was hitched by leather straps to a two wheeled gig that Abbie thought might be for trotting, her hands grasping the shafts, wrists connected to them by leather cuffs. She wore knee high leather boots that turned her feet into hooves and, Abbie saw, had bells clipped to her nipples.

Abbie lead Bobby over towards the PA, slave and part time pony girl, boots crunching on the gravel but the woman didn't turn at her approach, simply staring ahead, the bridle blinkering her to what might be happening on either side of her. It was the first time Abbie had seen a real pony girl in the flesh and her gaze almost instinctively followed the lines of the harness as it ran across the woman's shoulders and crossed between her breasts. It was clearly functional but designed for form too. A pony girl or two might add a little more spice to her show.

Drawing Bobby behind her, she came to stand in front of the woman whose dark eyes widened when Abbie entered her field of view. She had no doubt been expecting her mistress. Abbie saw her smile in acknowledgement, white teeth flashing around the bit that was clamped between her teeth. There was saliva on her chin.

'So this I how you keep in shape.'

Ramona's smile broadened and she nodded, the bell on the front band of her bridle just below the plume jingling.

'And do pony girls need toys to ensure they perform well?'

Ramona's eyes widened further and she started to blush. Then she nodded, shifting her weight.

'These help too, I suppose.' Abbie tapped one of the nipple bells which swung, jingling.

Ramona nodded again.

'Well, enjoy your work out.' Abbie turned and sauntered away.

*

She was still pondering the design of a pony girl harness when she rounded the end of a clipped yew hedge and came across the models apparently playing croquet on a hidden lawn. As before they were naked, almost anyway; blonde Olga wore a gold collar and matching... chastity belt, Abbie realised. She had gold cuffs on her wrists and similar ones around her ankles - both pairs joined by about a foot of light chain. In her feet were gold heeled sandals. Nisha was also in chastity, her belt and collar silver as were her sandals. As far as Abbie could tell the Indian girl was not restrained.

'Mistress Davies.' Olga had an eastern European accent and Abbie realised suddenly that both women had been gagged for all the previous day. The blonde teetered towards Abbie doing her best not to allow her heels to dig into the lawn.

'Miss Davies.' Nisha looked up, her enthusiasm less overt than Olga's but Abbie saw her dark eyes travel down her body in a way that made her want to shiver and recalled the way the girl had reacted when she'd slid the ribbed phallus inside her. It was a while since anyone had looked at her like that. She was used to the odd lascivious look when she wore her signature rubber and leather but this was altogether more intense - needy. And, now she thought about it, was there something in the way the two models were standing and moving? Did the chastity belts keep things inside them? For a moment, she wished she was wearing her own toy.

Abbie had donned her 'one size fits all' rubber dress; white and lacy by virtue of multiple small cuts that allowed to stretch to reveal the wear's body and, this morning, her black satin underwear complete with suspender belt and stockings.

Her look had caught Bobby's attention at breakfast whatever he might proclaim as his preferences.

Wickedly, she wondered how long his cock had been caged.

'Mistress was very pleased with your designs.' Olga said taking Abbie's arm perhaps as much to steady herself as with her excitement. She played with us for hours. She even let me have two more orgasms.' The blonde glanced at Nisha who took a step nearer.

Abbie swallowed as she processed this information. An orgasm was something she'd denied herself. After the excitement of the day, lying there alone in bed in the rubber babydoll she liked to wear at night, her hands had strayed to her sex a number of times, parting the crotch of the rubber knickers as she thought of the toy she had very carefully left in her bathroom to keep herself away from the temptation. Each time, however, she had withdrawn her fingers finding them wet but knowing that to allow this would open the floodgates, that acknowledging her need to dress and design for pleasure might spill over into something over which she had no control. Something that might lead to her being caged and collared like the two women.

'Sadly, we're locked away again.' Nisha said taking another step. Her lips trembled.

'I tried to be naughty,' Olga said, 'which is why I'm chained up.'

'We might be locked away,' Nisha said, 'but we do have our tongues.' She licked her lips eyes focussed on Abbie.

'Nish!' Olga said. 'You'll get us both gagged again.'

'Then, perhaps Miss Davies should take advantage of the fact we're not.' Nisha dropped to her knees in front of Abbie still meeting her gaze.

'Nish! You're such a slut. Miss Davies might not want your hot little tongue in her pussy.'

'This is a lovely dress, Mistress.' Nisha fingered the rubber pushing her fingers through it. 'I love the feel of latex on my body, the way it constricts.'

'Would you like to try it?' Abbie was a little unsure what had made her say it.

Can I?' Nisha's dark eyes flashed with excitement.

Abbie peeled off the dress. She was probably overdressed in her present company anyway.

'This is nice lingerie,' Olga said reaching out to trace the strap of Abbie's bra.

'You're not having it!' Abbie snapped rather too quickly stepping back.

'Of course not, Mistress. It looks so much better on you.' Olga smiled and Abbie felt she was beginning to understand why Elsinore had left them gagged.

'What do you think?' Nisha turned on her heels having stood to don the dress. It looked good on her, the white against her dark skin and, stretched by her larger body, it was considerably more revealing.

'It looks good.'

'Thank you, Mistress.' Nisha stepped closer. 'This really is nice lingerie.' Seemingly emboldened by her success with the dress, she reached out and stroked the fabric covering Abbie's breast.

'Nish!' Olga's rebuke seemed a little harsh given that she still had a finger hooked in Abbie's bra strap.

'I like these too.' Nisha's other hand brushed Abbie's knickers. She stepped closer.

Abbie's mouth was dry. Faced with Nisha's onslaught, her courage began to fail her.

Nisha's fingers slipped inside the waistband.

'I have to go.' Abbie stepped back feeling her bra strap, still caught in Olga's fingers pulled off her shoulder. 'Mis... Madam... Elsinore wants me to make another design.

Nisha' dark eyes flashed with disappointment and perhaps some anger at the rejection.

Abbie took another step back and replaced her bra strap.

Olga laughed. 'I told you she wasn't a dominant.'

Abbie turned, half stumbling in her heels on the grass and hurried away as fast as she could with Bobby following behind on his leash.

*

It was only when she reached the house that she stopped to draw breath, looking down at Bobby and wondering how he was judging her.

'I have to make that dress,' she said trying to refocus her thoughts. It came out aloud though she only meant to think it.

She glanced at Bobby wondering if she was allowed to release him. She certainly couldn't do it without him and if she waited for Elsinore to return she might run out of time. But if she ran out of time she wouldn't have to wear the dress and maybe Elsinore would send her home for failing this final challenge.

The thought was suddenly appealing but...

She crouched down and began to unstrap the leather restraints around Bobby's arms then, as he stretched, she moved to his legs before undoing the muzzle and headpiece.

'Thank you, Miss Davies. If you'll give me a minute to dress, I'll join you in the studio.'

'Yes, thank you.' Abbie breathed a sigh of relief as he stood a little stiffly and walked naked and barefoot from the room carrying the leather suit. She tried not to look at his tail of how it was attached to him.

Then, gathering her thoughts, she made her way to the studio workshop still wishing it didn't have to be that dress.

*

They worked almost flat out for the next six hours cutting and stitching the leather, tapering, fitting, pressing and stretching; Abbie modelling the sections and then larger sections until there was no way she could delay anymore.

'It is wonderful to see you use such a design. I've always been a fan of the art,' Bobby said as the final fitting loomed.

Abbie nodded dumbly. She was still wearing the black satin lingerie but now it was time to removed it, to be cocooned away in the leather garment she'd so enjoyed designing, wondering as she drew it how it could be displayed - certainly not by a model strutting down the catwalk; perhaps a travellator of some sort, or displayed on a podium, rotating like a ballerina in a wind-up musical box.

'Ready.'

Abbie nodded and sat to remove her stockings and heels then she undid her bra and suspender belt before sliding out of her knickers. Being naked in front of Bobby was going to be the least of her worries.

He began by helping her into the underbodice, a leather body cut away around her breasts and her sex; then she sat and he rolled the leather stockings up her legs before sliding her arms into the tight sleeves; gloves - mitts really - that turned her hands into flippers. Then he laced the sleeves and stockings to the bodice before fitting the corset. He was surprisingly adept at tightening this and Abbie wondered if she might pass out from lack of oxygen long before she found herself fully restrained. A harness not unlike the one Ramona the pony had worn - just a lot more restricting - was buckled over this. Then an open face hood. Then her arms were strapped to her sides and the neck corset laced into place. Abbie realised she was already completely helpless and there was so much more to go.

'So are we going the whole hog?'

Abbie tried to turn to look at him but this was already difficult. She opened her mouth to speak and found that between the tight leather hood, high neck corset pressing on her jaw and the oppressively tight corset, speaking was already difficult and she was not yet gagged.

'Yes,' she said quickly.

Bobby stood behind her.

'Should I find some lubricant.'

Abbie felt herself blushing.

'Just do it.'

He did, the ribbed plug sliding easily inside her in a way that made her breathing come in even shorter gasps. She waited for him to tighten the crotch strap but he moved on to the cone bra. In the course of the day, this had proved the only real contention between them so far. 'She'll want it a little over the top,' Bobby had advised. Abbie had demurred but then bowed to his knowledge. The bra was thus constructed to turn Abbie's B-cups into what she regarded as jutting traffic cones.

'These first.'

'What?'

'Nipple stimulators.' There was a hint of amusement in Bobby's voice. 'Just because you can't flash your favourite bits doesn't mean they cant be of use.'

They certainly hadn't discussed this.

'Alright,' Abbie hissed. 'Just get it over with.'

The silicon was soft against her breasts and oddly cool on her nipples, pinching them gently. They were distracting enough for her to more or less miss Bobby strapping her into the bra.

'Boots next.'

Abbie sat and Bobby knelt before her, lacing her legs tightly into the thigh high toe boots before cuffing her ankles - unnecessary but aesthetic.

'Hood or dress next?'

'I'd like to see the dress.'

'Right you are. Let's get the nasty bit over with shall we?'

'What?'

'The plug.'

'What? A... I didn't say anything one of those.'

'She'll expect it and I don't want to have to take all this off when she finds you're not wearing one.'

'How will she know?'

'Oh, she'll know.'

'Alright but...'

'You've never worn one before?'

'No.'

'You'll get used to it with time.'

He guided Abbie to bend forwards and she felt a pressure against her bottom.

'Try to relax.'

'I'm trying. You're not the one...'

The plug popped in. Then she felt more pressure.

'Hey.'

'Just three more ribs to go.'

They went, each a triumph and a degradation.

Then Bobby tightened the harness crotch strap making the harness even more constricting.

The dress fitted from neck to ankle, tightening down her body, stretching over her comically enlarge breasts and enclosing her arms, shaped to give her an hourglass figure albeit one with no arms. The bodice laced at the back and the skirt wrapped around her legs hobbling them as it tapered to a cuff that mirrored the neck corset and was little bigger than her cuffed ankles.

'You look marvellous.'

Abbie didn't feel marvellous although there was a nagging feeling in her lower belly that seemed to conspire with the slight tingling in her nipples and the lightheaded feeling caused by her constricted breathing.

'Lucky girl, eh.'

Abbie said nothing.

'Open up.'

Bobby had insisted on a ring gag citing it as more practical than the rubber ball Abbie had planned on. By this stage, they were running short of time and with limited experience in the field, Abbie had accepted his advice. She opened her mouth and Bobby deftly slipped the leather covered ring behind her teeth. Then came the mask - an impression of Abbie's own face, painted and made up. In the drawings and stories she had taken the designs from, woman and sometimes men was placed in impossible bondage rather like Abbie was now and then dressed and taken out looking as if they were not prisoners at all. Abbie had thought about a colourful dress probably in bright red rubber with a large hooped skirt to ensure the wearer was noticed but she had not yet sketched it out it and it would have hidden her current costume. Bobby had, however, suggested a long leather coat and she felt the weight of it as he draped over her shoulders.

'All ok in there.'

'Eh.' It was the closets Abbie could get to a 'yes'. She found that although she tried, she could barely nod.

'Time to go then.'

There was a pressure the front of her neck which she guessed was Bobby attaching the leash that he would use to guide her to the salon. She had envisaged the mask allowing her to see but there had been no time to create this without simply cutting holes for her eyes and they had settled for eyes painted on which would stare brightly and blindly ahead. Then with a slight tug she began to follow him, blind and helpless and completely encased in the layers of leather. Her progress was painfully slow, as if the size of the house had multiplied. Each step, she calculated must be about half an inch. It was hot too in the leather. She was sweating before she'd had to start walking and now she could feel it trickling down inside the suit, her only connection to the outside world with its cool air, via her open mouth and she found herself panting dog-like as she forced herself to suck air into her lungs. Then there were the toys. She assumed the nipple stimulators such as they were fell into this category even if all they really did was gently pinch and tease. They weren't unpleasant. The two plugs on the other hand were too intrusive. If she did this again - not that she would - not to this degree, anyway - there would be no toys. She would be firm on that. If she wanted to be penetrated, to have sex even, she would do it when she wanted to, not have it forced upon her. Honestly, the whole concept of making models more appealing by forcing them to be sexually aroused was ludicrous and probably illegal. It was certainly immoral.

She wondered how Elsinore got away with it but then all powerful people did - forcing unwanted attention on their underlings, using their power and influence.

With her concentration distracted by her inner rant, she stumbled and would have fallen if Bobby hadn't caught her.

At least she assumed it was Bobby. Quite frankly anyone could have taken up her leash and could even be leading her somewhere completely different from where she expected. And what if Nisha and Olga found her like this?

Why had she even thought to agree to modelling this dress?

The answer was obvious but she chose to ignore it just as she chose to ignore the feelings that were building inside her. Yes, she liked to dress in rubber and leather and yes, it excited her - sexually - there, she'd admitted it but that didn't mean she wanted to be kept like this, forced to wear fetish clothing all the time, forcibly aroused against her will.

Did Elsinore Ellis really control the number of orgasms Olga and Nisha were allowed?

Why had Old been allowed two and Nisha none?

Why did they allow her to control them so utterly?

If she'd known she was going to end up like this, she'd have masturbated the night before so that she wouldn't find what she was doing now so arousing. No! She would be fine. She'd managed without for the last three years. She certainly wasn't going to let herself cum while she was like this - like Olga had - in front of Bobby and Elsinore and, for all she knew, Ramona and Christian and half a dozen other designers who were probably even now lining up to take their turn abusing the the power they wielded over her.

Was that how Nisha got on in modelling? She was no supermodel - pretty yes but Abbie had seen a lot of pretty girls on the catwalk. Was Nisha here because she was willing to go down on anyone who asked? Was Olga here because she didn't mind being chained up? And Bobby, a talented craftsman, submitting to be Elsinore's pet.

The whole set up was ludicrous. How could people submit like that unless they actually enjoyed it?

*

Abbie felt a prickling in her nipples already sensitised by the pinching of the little rubber moulds encasing them. It was rather like a rough, unshaved chin brushing over them - deliciously teasing. It had certainly been a while since she had enjoyed that sensation. She let out a small gasp and faltered slightly. That was when the vibrator between her legs started - subtle at first so that she barely noticed it - had barely noticed it. Had it been going for some time, its touch obscured by all the other sensations?

'Nnng.' She staggered as the butt plug moved struggling violently and only staying on her feet because strong arms caught her.

'It's alright, Miss Davies.' Bobby's voice was calm. 'It's what Madam will expect.'

Elsinore might expect it but Abbie wasn't going to provide it.

'Nnngggg.' She struggled and bucked violently.

'Abbie!'

'Nnnnnggg.' It was all going horribly wrong.

'Abbie.'

She had thought she could do this.

'Deep breath,'

It was easy for him to say it, he wasn't cocooned inside tight leather barely able to draw breath through a mouth that was forced into an O as if she was some sort of latex sex doll. She took the breath anyway, chest heaving against the creaking leather. Then another. It did feel better. Perhaps she had been a little light headed with her breathing so constricted... had panicked. This was, after all what she wanted. And, she could see the attraction. Those sensations in her body were so utterly delicious that she almost wanted to succumb. She thought briefly of Olga. How could the girl just let herself climax like that in public? Abbie certainly wasn't going to do it. Since that episode in her second year she'd been ruthlessly in control and she wasn't going to lose it now. She'd accept the stimulation Elsinore insisted upon even if she felt it was completely unnecessary.

Although it had helped the day before when she'd lead the models into the salon... and at dinner.

Abbie smiled around her gag. The woman did know her stuff. She had seen what being teased like that had done for her. And it was rather nice being given no choice but to be aroused like this - especially in the tight leather. Maybe she would allow herself an orgasm later - a reward. It had been such a long time.

'We're here.'

Abbie felt a pressure on her belly and stopped, wobbling for a moment on the points of the toe boots.

Another deep breath to calm herself. It might be easier if she didn't have the distraction of being sexually stimulated. She'd be less likely to fall over and make a fool of herself.

'Miss Davies, Madam.'

A tug on her leash.

And in increase in the vibrations.

She concentrated on not falling over advancing tiny step by tiny step.

And, after all, a girl couldn't be made to orgasm if she didn't want to.

Applause!

'Impressive.' Was that Christian's voice. 'What do you think Sergio?'

'Quite a natural.' A woman's voice. 'I like this design the most.'

'I like the oversized breasts.'

'You're so predictably, Martin.'

'The mask is a nice touch.' Was that Ramona?

A pressure on her belly and she stopped. The coat was lifted from her shoulders.

'Those lacings are certainly well designed.'

'I can see why you're eager to display her skills. When is the show?'

'Two months. In Manchester.'

'I'm looking forward to it.'

There was more conversation but Abbie struggled to follow it, her mind whirling at what was happening around her and what was happening inside her body.

*

'We're alone, darling.' Elsinore's voice.

Abbie thought she must have fallen into some sort of trance.

'I'm more than impressed.'

'Unk.' Abbie wondered if Elsinore might release her.

At least the mask was removed.

Elsinore wore a frilled white rubber blouse and tight leather pencil skirt, sheer stockings too and patent shoes with spiked stilettos. She'd restyled her hair too, wore a fascinator, carried a cigarette in a long holder. The whole ensemble reminded Ellie of the Mistress in the drawings that had inspired her design.

The woman circled her.

'I almost wish I could keep you like this.'

Abbie hoped she wouldn't. She wasn't sure she could take this much longer. It wasn't just the confinement it was the pressing needs in her body.

Elsinore... Mistress Elsinore, she supposed, waved her hand in a way that Abbie knew meant she was supposed to kneel but how was she supposed to do that? The woman did it again but Abbie couldn't, not without risking falling.

At least if she tried this might end more quickly and she could...

What could she do? What would she do?

She had a show and materials to make her designs and maybe submitting like this was worth it to achieve those goals. This was just another of Mistress'... not Mistress' but Elsinore's tests.

Abbie allowed her kneels to buckle, dropping in a creak of leather, to a jarring stop that resonated through her body as she teetered and almost fell but somehow managed to stay on her knees.

'You are a very impressive young woman.'

Abbie raised her eyes to the older designer delivering a pleading look, her body screaming for release.

'Unk.'

Elsinore pushed her and she fell onto her side any breath she had being knocked from her body.

'I know what you want.'

'Nnngg.' Abbie tried to shake her head as Elsinore's shiny black patent shoe filled her vision that was already clouded with... with... too much.

There was nothing else Abbie could do. She pushed out tongue and pressed it to the shiny leather in front of her then the orgasm took her.