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This
excerpt has been kindly from sent in by Rubberwolf as the
dressing scene is ideal for RetroXotique - The Full story is
available at : -
http://www.grometsplaza.net/latex/storiesad/among_the_missing.html
Ann knelt on the freezing ground shivering, her head covered in
water that she had just gulped down greedily from the horse
trough just moments before.
While she had been moving she had been able to keep
herself warm, but now that she had stopped, her sweat drenched
body could feel the full effect of the bitter December chill.
She was also exhausted.
Although not unfit, pulling a cart and passenger for ten
miles over a rough track, complete with a passenger for several
hours was not her bodies idea of gentle exercise.
Although Dave had given her sports drink and regular
stops, it was not enough to replace the salts and fluids that
she had lost. She
had hit what athletes call “The Wall” about an hour ago.
She was not sure how she had made it this far, but she
had her legs had been ravaged by cramps and spasms for the last
mile.
Ann had
imagined what she would say when she eventually found her
quarry, Stacey Birgett, but all that she could do now was pant
as the rubber clad Amazon towered above her, inspecting her with
a critical eye. She
tried to form a greeting, but what came out was unintelligible.
She was still wearing the bit.
Stacey started to move, swaying, spinning and fading.
Suddenly, Ann was lying on the ground pressed against her
face and then all was dark.
Ann woke up
feeling drained. She was still wearing the pony gear, but the head harness
felt different. It
was softer and, although there was something in her mouth,
pressing her tong down, it was not a part of the headgear.
It felt like a dental thing, all wire and plastic.
She did not care, it was more comfortable than what she
had been wearing. Her
hands were still tied behind her back, she was still wearing the
boots and harness and she seemed to be wearing some sort of
quilt. It was also
pitch black. She
was not lying in a bed. That she was sure of.
Her mattress felt wrong, prickly, almost like, but she
could not finish the thought.
She didn’t know or care.
Shifting her position until she was comfortable, she
allowed her exhaustion to wash over her as sleep claimed her.
Bright light
woke her. Sunlight
flooded into her room and Ann groaned.
She was lying on her front
and a thousand needles pricked body, legs and especially
her face which were not covered by the quilt.
Shifting her weight and tilting her head slightly, Ann
opened her eyes. Not
needles, but straw. She
was laying on a bed of straw.
After a moment, her eyes were acclimatised enough to turn
and look at the light source.
It was bright and for a moment, Ann could not make out
what she was seeing. However,
within moments she was able to state that she was looking at a
stable door, with the top half open. Framed in the upper section, Stacey Birgett leaned
nonchalantly. Ann
was in a horse stall. It
was plain, made from white washed breezeblocks.
She was however, warmer than she expected.
Sitting up, she took in her surroundings.
She was wearing some form of padded poncho, like a horse
blanket. She also
noted that, in addition to some sort of wall mounted feeding
trough, a large radiator was bolted to one wall.
“Good morning
little one. How are
you feeling?” Stacey enquired from the doorway.
“Ii ood ee et
er” Ann replied, but the mouthpiece made speech impossible.
“Don’t try
to talk just yet. I bought you some clothes. I thought you could join me for
breakfast.”
Ann did not
need to be asked twice. As
kinky as her outfit was, the novelty factor had well and truly
worn off and she found herself nodding vigorously as Stacey
opened the lower half of the stable door and stepped in carrying
a bundle.
Once changed,
Stacey had led her across the street to a large stone house.
Although a period building, this was no simple fishing
cottage. Perhaps an
official building, like harbour master.
She was not sure, but definitely Georgian.
Ann did not care. For
the first time in ages, she was not wearing rubber, but normal
clothes. It felt
weird, different, almost alien.
Ann was not sure about her strange reaction, but at least
these clothes, although plain, almost conservative, were warm.
Once inside,
her host informed her that she had taken the liberty of running
her a bath. Ann did
not need asking twice. Within
minutes she was naked and climbing into the largest, warmest,
bubbliest bath she had ever known.
She was not sure how long she lay, luxuriating, in this
liquid heaven, but eventually she noticed that she was starting
to turn into a wrinkled prune and, admitting defeat, climbed out
of the bath. On the
same pile that towel had been stowed she found a white, fluffy,
flannel dressing gown. Once
dried, she wrapped herself in the robe, wrapped a towel around
her head, put on a pair of fluffy slippers and made her way
downstairs, where her host had prepared fresh coffee and a big
bowl of porridge. Not
the most exotic breakfast, but given the conditions outside,
definitely the most sensible.
Over breakfast
Ann explained why she was looking for Stacey.
“I
would rather not be found by my stepmother at this time,”
Stacey informed Ann.
“But
why? She seems
genuinely concerned.”
“Family
business. I won’t
bore you with the details.
Lets just say that I don’t want to be found at the
moment.”
“That’s
fair enough,” Ann conceded.
“Normally in this sort of event, I would simply say
that I had found the person and would pass on any messages or
encourage the missing party to make contact, but would not
divulge the location if the person did not want me to.”
Stacey seemed
to relax at this and the conversation moved onto other matters.
Ann related the efforts that she had gone to while her
hostess plied her with steaming hot coffee.
Ann described most of her adventures, leaving out
most of the embarrassing bits, as well as her growing
relationship with Dave.
“Speaking of
Dave, where is he?” Ann enquired.
“Oh he’s
around. I have asked him if you and he wouldn’t be more
comfortable on this side of the island.
Dave seemed to agree and he is going to get your
belongings moved here. Now,
we have a busy day ahead of us.
Why don’t you get changed and meet me back here in 20
minutes.”
Stacey led Ann
upstairs to one of the guestrooms.
It was well laid out in a traditional, hotel room,
format. Two large
wardrobes dominated one wall.
Ann noticed that some clothes were laid out on the bed
for her already.
“I hope you
don’t mind, but I chose some clothes for you to wear for our
days outing,” Stacey purred.
Ann walked over
to the bed. The
first item that caught her eye was a corset.
No, she corrected herself, more like a girdle.
However, the first item that Stacey pulled from the pile
was a set of rubber panties.
By the way they moved when Stacey picked them up, Ann
could tell that there was something or more probably two
something’s inside. Sure
enough, when Stacey opened the panties, she reached for a tub of
KY jelly, which she applied to the two mammoth, jell filled
dildos within, before pulling them open in front of Ann at floor
level. Ann
dutifully stepped into the pants which Stacey pulled up and
guided into Ann’s pussy and ass.
A few weeks ago, Ann would have run away screaming at
such behaviour from a virtual stranger, but she had since lost
most, if not all of her inhibitions in that respect and did not
think to question her casual acceptance of the twin intruders
until later.
The next item
that Stacey held up for inspection was a
silk gown, which was long enough to fall about two or, at
a rough guess, three inches above the knee .
This surprised Ann, as she would have expected something
in rubber, or at least leather. Understanding her puzzled expression, Stacey smiled.
“During the
summer, I would normally wear a similar garment in latex.
But it is becoming bitterly cold outside.
The last thing you need is a layer of sweat trapped
between your skin and your underclothes.
It would quickly turn to ice.
Don'’ worry, I have plenty of other things to keep you
interested,” she smiled as she bunched it up and, as Ann
raised her arms, lowered it over her head.
The next item
was very familiar to Ann. The
corset. This item
was quite long so that, while it left her breasts uncovered, was
longer than some skirts that she had worn.
Ann stood with her arms apart while Stacey wrapped the
corset girdle around her, fastening the front from just under
her bust, all the way down to just above her knees.
Stacey asked Ann to go to the foot of the bed, bend over
and hold on to the bar at the foot of the bed.
Once in position, Stacey grabbed the laces at the back of
the garment and started pulling and pulling and pulling.
By the time that Stacey had finished, Ann had gone beyond
merely grunting at each savage tug.
She could scarcely draw breath.
However her posture and figure were stunning.
Ann felt as though she had been squeezed into a steel
pipe.
Ann studied her
reflection in a long, antique looking mirror in the corner of
the room. She
looked like some sort of extreme egg timer.
The corsets that she had worn so far had curved in,
describing a gradual arc. This
pinched into an extreme fourteen or fifteen inches.
“Wow,” she
mused.
Looking down,
Ann lifted her leg as Stacey pulled a silk stocking onto her
foot, smoothing it gradually up her leg until she could attach
it to three suspenders that hung down from the girdle.
Stacey repeated the process on the other foot.
Next she pulled out a set of ankle boots.
At first glance, other than the six inch heal, they
appeared to be a normal set of black, leather boots.
However, as Ann quickly discovered, they were a size too
small for her and, by the time that Stacey had laced them up,
they acted more like foot corsets, squeezing her feet into a
tight, unyielding, leather prison.
The next item
was a long, white cotton, petty coat.
A white silk blouse followed next.
This had an unusual silk tie around the neck.
An ankle length, black, straight skirt followed.
Ann was not sure where this outfit was going, but it
looked Victorian or pre WW1.
The last item was a formal black jacket.
“There you
are, nearly ready for our day out.
We just need to do something with your hair.”
The something
in question turned out to be a tight bun.
As they walked towards the door, or hobbled in Ann’s
case, Stacey turned to her own room.
Ann noticed that, under her own garments, Stacey had the
tell tail signs of a similar corset under her clothes.
“I will meet
you downstairs in a minute,” Stacey stated as she headed for
her own room.
Sure enough,
Stacey descended the stairs wearing a similar outfit to Ann.
Walking over to a closet by the front door, Stacey
emerged with a top hat and a pair of leather gloves.
The hat had a guars veil around the rim.
Handing them to Ann, she reached into the cupboard for an
exact same pair.
“Let’s go
and find Dave shall we?” Stacey asked before stepping outside.
Ann followed
behind as Stacey led the way to the stables.
Now Ann knew what the outfit was about.
It was an old fashioned riding outfit.
Pulling on the gloves and placing the hat on her head,
Ann trotted to fall in beside Stacey as they marched over
to the stables.
Just as she
suspected as they stepped inside, the carriage was already in
position. This one
was slightly larger than the one Ann had pulled.
Ann thought that this was only fair, although by the look
on his face, Dave did not agree.
Ann considered hiding her smile, but thought better of it
and grinned openly.
“Hello Dave,
you look good,” Ann taunted as Dave glared at her.
Dave was
dressed in a similar fashion to the outfit that Ann had worn
yesterday, including boots and tail.
Stacey had already climbed into the carriage and Ann
walked to around the back and stepped up onto the cart.
The cart that
Ann had pulled yesterday had been light, with pram sized wheels
and a forward facing seat.
This version had larger, five foot wheels and seats on
either side so that, when Ann sat down she was facing Stacey.
The other woman had twisted her body, so that her torso
faced the front, gripping the reigns with her left hand.
A large whip had been attached to the front board of the
carriage so that it rose from its slot vertically.
The whip looked about four-foot tall, with a long length
of platted leather snaking from the top, back down to the
handle. Stacey
pulled this out of the slot, giving it an experimental shake as
she held it aloft. An
evil grin spread across her face as she looked at Ann.
“I think
that, after the way Dave treated you yesterday, he needs a
lesson in how to look after animals.
Lets go and get your belongings shall we?” Stacey
purred as she flicked the whip, catching Dave on his naked right
buttock, leaving a painful red line on his pale skin.
Ann did not
have long to study the effects of Stacey’s expert marksmanship
as Dave, spurred on by pain and shock, set off with a sudden
jolt as he sprung out of the stable building and raced down the
street, while Ann clung tightly to the rail, grinning broadly at
the sudden turn of events.
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