Jim sat at the bar and chuckled as he watched the video on his phone. Ange had pranked his mate, John, perfectly. His face was a picture at the end of the clip. He clearly didn't know whether to cry with relief that it had all been a joke, and Angela was alive and well. Or rage that he had been so perfectly scammed.

"I see you're enjoying Ange's work," came a drawl at Jim's shoulder. Jim looked round to see John standing there.

"She got you properly. You gotta admit it. Your face at the end. Bloody perfect."

"Aye, it was well done. She even got me to film my own view, and I really hadn’t a clue... So you going leave me standing here or you gonna offer me a drink?"

"Sit yourself down yer tight git. I'll get a round in."

-*-

Three pints later Jim turned to his friend and asked, "So, revenge. How yer gonna get her back?"

"Oh, I have a cunning stunt in mind. Will take some planning, but I have my opening already."

“Well, spill. What are you up to?"

John pulled a letter from his jacket pocket and held it up.

"This here is a letter from Angela's doctor. Seems she has a rash that the vane bint is worried about. Essentially the letter gives her the all-clear. But I found it before she did so she does not know."

"So... What are you planning?"

"Gonna set up an appointment with a fake dermatologist. She's going to come up with an entirely different diagnosis."

"You bastard!"

"Me? After what the lass put me through. No man, the cow deserves it."

-*-

Angela sat in the waiting room and studied the magazine. She had found it in the pile of reading matter offered on the low table in the middle of the room. She'd rather be on her phone but annoyingly there was no signal in the room, and no public wifi offered either.

She was concerned that the stupid rash she had shown the doctor had landed her in a hospital clinic. That the appointment had been made by the consultant and had not come from her own doctor was unusual too.

John sat next to her looking even more bored than she was. He had given her a lift over, finding himself out of the office having been told to use up his holiday by his employer. Just two days but it meant once they were out of here they had a long weekend together if she milked this as a ‘sicky’.

"Miss Attwell?"

Angela looked up to see a tall woman in a white coat standing in front of her.

"Yes, that's me."

"Wonderful, I'm Professor Boult, but please call me Sally." Looking at John she asked, "Your husband?"

"My partner," answered Angela.

“How do you do, sir?” The professor held out her hand to John.

“Fine thank you,” replied John shaking her hand.

"Excellent," beamed the professor. "If you could both follow me." The couple followed the Doctor into her office. A nurse waited inside, stood on one side of the room. Angela and John seated themselves in two chairs facing the desk. The doctor seated herself behind the desk.

The nurse quietly closed the office door and resumed her position to one side.

"So Angela, your GP referred you to me after getting the tests back from the rash that started on your inner thigh. Is that correct?"

"Yes, he said he thought it would pass in time but took samples to be safe. I must say I was very surprised to get this referral without a second consultation with Dr Jones."

"That's actually my fault, Angela. I'm running a study on a new treatment for a new bug. As such I've been screening all dermatological samples sent through this lab. When I got a positive from your sample I contacted Dr Jones directly."

"That sounds very alarming," responded Angela her face creased with fear, a hand reaching out for John's.

"I'll get straight to the point Angela. You have contracted a rather serious infection. It is absolutely not life-threatening. But it could cause, if untreated, heavy scarring, disfigurement or in the most extreme cases blindness."

"Oh my God! What will happen to me? What does it do?”

“I’m sorry Angela, I really did not mean to scare you. I want to stress that the symptoms I just mentioned would only occur if the condition was left untreated. I most certainly intend to treat you and hope that you will remain completely symptom-free.”

“I don’t understand, am I going to get sick or not?”

“Strictly speaking you are sick. The condition is serious, but not life-threatening. There is though a treatment, and I’ll not lie here, the treatment is arduous. However, if you follow the treatment plan to the letter you ought to emerge on the other side of this event scar-free and in perfect health.”

“What is going to happen to me?” Wailed Angela.

“Before we get to that let me explain your condition properly and then how we are going to treat it.”

“Okay.”

“You’ve contracted a new superbug that is resistant to antibiotics. I’m afraid they are getting more and more prevalent and they are causing us quite a headache in the medical world.

“Your particular bug has yet to be named. It's part of the streptococcus family and closely related to what the media likes to scare people by calling the flesh-eating bug. But essentially yours is a photosensitive bacterium that damages arterial walls. It has several weaknesses that we can exploit to rid you of this infection. Unfortunately for you, they are mostly physical regimes rather than drug therapies.”

“What do I have to do? I’ll do anything.”

“First we need to understand how it works. Light, almost certainly ultraviolet wavelengths, trigger the bacterium in your blood. This typically will happen when it passes through the skin or the eyes.”

The professor continued, “Once active it attacks the arterial wall. It is not active in the venal system nor, and we are not sure why, it does not attack the brain, heart or lungs. So the first treatment is simple; you must stay away from strong sources of light.”

“Once it has caused a lesion in an arterial wall the bacterium multiplies in the wound causing puss-filled swellings and further ruptures. To stop these developing we need to keep your skin under compression. Typically a latex rubber membrane is used to do this. We can do this either post rupture to minimise the damage, or throughout the lifetime of the infection to prevent any outbreaks in the first place.

“To stop lesions occurring within your ears, mouth, rectum and vagina these spaces will need to be kept under pressure similarly as the outer skin. Typically inflatable intrusions into these orifices will suffice, though the rectal item will necessitate a low volume diet.

“Finally to protect the aorta, kidneys and liver the abdomen must be kept under as much compression as does not interfere with respiration or circulation. Also, the lower leg and foot will need extra compression due to the increased pressure when in an upright posture.”

“This preventative rubber membrane… are we talking a rubber suit of some sort?”

“Angela, do you play kinky games in the bedroom?”

“What sort of question is that? Erm no, John and I are not perverts if that’s what you mean. Is this some sort of venereal disease?”

“No, Angela, it’s not a VD. I asked as your treatment may have been easier to cope with if you had a latex fetish. This condition is so rare that much of the equipment used to treat it is sourced from the specialist suppliers that cater to those sort of tastes.

“So I do have to dress up then?”

“Yes, Angela you do. Along with not going out during daylight hours, you will need to wear a tight latex suit twenty-four hours a day. You will also have a latex helmet or hood with heavily tinted lenses. The easiest way to compress the abdomen is with a corset. Plus I will issue you with some specialist boots that compress the foot and lower leg.”

“Oh my God! How bad does it get, if I don’t do this?”

“I have here some pictures.” The professor wordlessly handed over the pictures. Silently Angela looked through them. As she handed them back she was trembling.

“So obviously I’m going to go through with the whole treatment. How long does it last?” She mustered.

“Angela I am afraid the idea is the keep you under this regime until the bacteria have died. This will take some time. At least six months, perhaps a year depending on how many lessons we detect.”

Angela broke down in tears. “Okay show me these clothes. We may as well get on with this.”

"Angela, I had no intention of commencing your treatment immediately, you'll need to get ready first. Inform your employer, perhaps cut your hair. Plus it would not be fair to send you home from the hospital looking like a cast member for a sex scene in a fifty shades movie."

"I don't care about that. After seeing those pictures I don't want to go home unprotected."

"I quite understand Angela." Professor Boult turned to the nurse. "What do we have ready to go with straight away?"

"Nothing now I'm afraid, Professor. However, I personally have a scarf and shades Angela could use on the journey home. Also, while I technically finish my shift in three hours, I could measure the patient now and be ready for a home visit in about six hours.”

“Will that be acceptable. Angela?” Asked the professor.

“Why don’t you have anything ready. If you had a diagnosis why did you bring me in if you’re unprepared?”

“Angela, try to be calm. I know this is all very unsettling news. We have nothing ready as the equipment needs to be made to measure. You have been walking around normally up till now. Twenty four hours are unlikely to make much more difference. Especially as I suspect you’re going to go home and stay there.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s just those pictures are pretty frightening.”

“There is no reason to apologise. Really.” Sally smiled at Angela. “I’m just glad you are willing to proceed with the treatment. I was worried that you would be unwilling as you are asymptomatic so far. Not everyone is as sensible as you are.”

“I’m very happy to be symptomless. I don’t want even one of those… those pustule things in the pictures.”

“Quite right too. Now, if you can just sign these consent forms. Then you can go with nurse Vicky, she will measure you and tell you what you need to do to be ready.”

Nurse Vicky had opened a side door through which Angela could see an examination table. Angela signed the forms with the offered pen.

Sally continued, “While you two are doing that I’ll go over your care with your partner here so he knows what’s involved and how he can help care for you at this time.”

“Thank you, Sally,” responded Angela as she stood and entered the examination room.

As soon as the door closed behind the pair John made a comical face of exaggerated surprise and vigorously fist-pumped the air. Sally just grinned back.

“That was awesome!” Enthused John.

“Told you I could pull it off.” Responded Sally.

“Who’s the nurse? I wasn’t expecting her.”

“Friend of mine and, as it happens, owner of the shop that’ll be providing most of the gear.”

“A dominatrix like you?”

“No, well sort of, Vicky likes to switch. But when I told her of your plans, she insisted on being part of the sting. She’s going to make house visits regularly throughout this prank. I’ll visit too, to check up on my patients progress.”

“Genius! How long do you think we can keep Ange in the dark?”

“Given how well that went, I figure you could run the whole thing right up to her getting an all clear.”

“Oh, that’d be perfect. Can you imagine her face after six months dressed as a gimp hiding in the dark! It’ll be priceless.”

“I said it at the start; this seems to me to be an extreme prank.”

“Her last stunt had me thinking she had died from falling out of a tower block window. I sobbed down thirty flights of stairs, thinking I had lost her and was on my way to inspect her bloody corpse. She has this coming.”

“Well, I just hope it does not break you two up.”

“Is my money good?”

“More than… In fact, Vicky came up with a suggestion, that would be a little more of an expense, that would make night times more interesting…”

-*-

Once in the examining room, the nurse smiled at Angela as she closed the door.

“Okay Angela, could I ask you to strip naked and then put on this gown?” The nurse held up the ubiquitous backless gown.

Angela started to remove her clothes.

“So you are bringing this rubber gear around to mine this evening then?” Asked Angela.

“Yes, once I have your measurements I’m confident I can source the necessary equipment. Do you think you can have your hair styled by then?”

“Do I really have to cut my hair short?”

“No one is making you do anything, Angela. But long hair, when you are wearing a rubber hood for over half the day, every day… Well, it’ll get old pretty fast.”

“My usual hairdresser does not take walk in’s and I doubt I could get such a quick appointment.”

“I know a good hairdresser who owes me a favour. One moment.”

The nurse lifted the receiver of a wall-mounted phone and quickly dialled a number.

“Trish!”, she exclaimed when the call went through. “I’ve got a favour to ask… Yeah, I know. Listen, I’ve a friend in need of a complete restyle. Only she has an unusual illness. Essentially she’s become allergic to sunlight… Yes, that is unusual, but it’s not much fun either. So my friend needs a pixie cut before this evening, in your back room away from bright lights. Can you do that?”

Whatever the response Vicky smiled and gave a thumbs up at Angela.

“That’s great, Trish. I’ll send her around to yours after she’s finished here with me… Yeah, we’re not even yet but this a step in the right direction. Bye love.”

“I take it you’ve got me an appointment?” Asked Angela.

“Yeah, I hope that wasn’t too presumptive?”

“Not at all. You know all about this, not me. So what else needs to change apart from my hair?”

“Actually I only know about this because I have a bit of a latex fetish of my own. When Sally found out she got me transferred to her team. Apparently the last trial they tried using neoprene wetsuits. They had good results but not perfect.”

“How the hell did they know that this would work?”

“Plastics had good results treating burn scarring. As to who hit on the idea initially I’m afraid I don’t know. Now getting back to the task in hand can I see your fingernails please?”

Angela lifted her hands for inspection.

“They’re nice but I’m afraid they are too long,” judged Vicky. “I’m going to have to trim them.”

“Let me guess; sharp nails and thin rubber don’t mix?”

“Pretty much, though since your hands are going to be covered in latex you’ll not need to paint your nails for a while.” Vicky produced a pair of small scissors and started trimming Angela’s nails.

“So what’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Wearing latex rubber. To date, I’ve only worn rubber gloves for washing up. Plus that was some years ago before we got a dishwasher.”

“Ahh, well obviously I like it. I like the way it grips, squeezes and pulls. I also really love the way I look in it too. It really shows off the assets as it were. Looking at your figure I think you’ll enjoy that aspect too.”

“So do you think John will like me that way?”

“Your man? Depends on his tastes. I’m sure you have a better idea of those than I do. Has he ever hinted he wanted to explore kinky things before?”

“No, not really. I know he loves me. But mostly sex has been a heated affair after one of us has pranked the other?”

“Pranked?”

"We play practical jokes on each other, and post them on the net. Our site has quite a lot of subscribers. I'm up at the moment." Angela grinned.

"I fooled him into thinking I'd fallen to my death." She continued. "Took loads of organising. Cameras, rigging, a dummy, plus access to the room below ours. In the end, John saw me fall from a high window. By the time he crossed the room I was back in the window below, and he was looking at a dummy dressed the same as me thirty stories below in a spreading pool of blood."

"Jesus! How can you trust each other? I'd be on edge all the time, frightened something was about to happen."

"I get what you're saying, but the adrenaline rush after is a trip."

"Even so. I mean weren't you sitting in that office just now thinking, 'Is this him pranking me?'"

"Actually I was. But I think that's just because I didn't want to accept how horrible the situation is. But we're in a real hospital, in the outpatients' clinic. The professor's office has not been hastily put together. You are a real nurse. I know doctors take oaths and would not collude in a prank. Plus what I've been told jells with other things I know. My gran had rubber support stockings. I've seen a documentary on the telly about burn victims wearing rubber hoods to smooth scaring." Angela gestured with her free hand, waving it loosely at the ceiling. "Plus there are no cameras."

"Cameras?"

"If this were a prank John would have cameras set up recording this. No point otherwise."

"Of course! Silly me. But that's pretty paranoid that you're looking for them."

"I suppose. But I started the pranking."

"I should warn you the professor uses a camera to record the results of her trials. To document the process. A sort of video diary. Not sure she would be happy if you start excitedly claiming it's all a prank."

"Thanks but I'm looking for hidden Go-pro’s not a doc talking to a tripod-mounted camera."

"She may give you one to keep a video diary on too."

"Cool, that seems a good idea. That way I won't have to worry I forgot to say something when I see her. I'm always walking out of the doctors' office and then remembering a symptom I forgot to mention."

"This is going to be tough, Angela. You do understand that don't you?"

"I think so. I'll admit I'm just focusing on the clothing at the moment. I can't imagine how it's going to impact daily life."

Vicky put down the scissors and picked up a tape measure. She started taking measurements and noting the results on a clipboard.

"Even most fetishists don't wear latex twenty-four-seven," advised Vicky. "Most just put it on while they are role-playing. A weekend at the most, usually just a few hours. You're going from zero to one hundred miles an hour. Straight in at the deep end. Total enclosure twenty-four-seven. There are lots of latex lovers who fantasise about that. But few with the determination to do so."

"I don't need determination though, do I? If I don't do this I will be sick for longer and probably scarred for life."

"I just think that even that knowledge may not be enough to keep you on the program. You'll start bargaining with yourself, 'a day without the hood and gag won't hurt.' Then it'll be a little longer or no corset."

"You think so little of me?" There was an edge of anger in Angela's voice. "You hardly know me."

"Not at all. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. It's just I know how hard this can be."

"So why are you saying this? Are you trying to freak me out?"

“No, I said… look, I'm trying to help, okay. I'm measuring you for this stuff now. I'm the one who will be placing the order and picking it up."

"So?"

"So it comes from a specialist bondage shop. I can have them make it hard to take off by yourself. You'll need your partner to help. That could stop you caving when on your own."

“Oh!... I see… That's actually quite a good idea. It's Vicky, isn't it? Vicky, I'm sorry I was short with you. Please do get the stuff that way. You're right, I'm almost certainly going to need lots of support from John."

"It'll also allow you to turn this into a sex game rather than a horrible medical procedure."

"I don't know about that, but if I have to ask John to help me take the stuff off that'll help stiffen my resolve."

-*-

Three hours later John and Angela sat down in their kitchen. Angela turned on the kettle to make a brew.

The journey home had been made in silence. Both lost in thought. Angela at the prospect of being turned into a rubber gimp. John at the myriad opportunities to expand this prank now that Ange had fallen for the premise.

On the ride back he'd complimented her hair, he really liked the new style. In fact, the pair had talked about anything but the hospital, Professor Boult, nurse Vicky or what was about to happen.

"I'm going to call work," declared Angela, pulling out her phone.

"Okay," responded John casting a sly glance up at the new spy camera up in the top kitchen shelf.

"Sue, it's Angela, could you put me through to Mike, please?... Mike, I've just got out of the hospital... Pretty bad news I'm afraid," Angela choked holding back tears.

"I've got this photosensitive bug, one of these new ones that are resistant to antibiotics...I've got to stay home Mike... I don't think I'm going to be able to, I'm so sorry. The treatment is going to stop me from being able to talk. It's really good of you to offer though... Well if it's untreated it's pretty disfiguring... Yes, I'm afraid so... The doctor said about six months, perhaps a year...Oh, Mike that is so good of you, thank you... Um, John will be looking after me... You are more than welcome of course, but could you check with John first? I just don't know if I'm going to be presentable for visitors all the time... Um the treatment is pretty rigorous and I'd hate for any of you guys to catch it... Oh, little chance of that, the doctors found it early due to a screening program at the hospital and I'm only infectious if I develop pustules... Oh, okay, I'll get John to bring in the stuff I have here and keep you updated. Bye."

Angela put her phone away and turned back to making tea.

“Well that’s me on sabbatical,” she announced. “Mike will pay me in full to the end of the month and then hold my position until I’m fit to return.”

“That’s fair of him,” offered John.

“I know, it’s just… Damn, I just like my job, I don’t want to stay at home all this time. Plus that’s our income cut by a third.”

“Babe, staying at home can’t be helped. I’m sorry about that. But I earn enough to keep us comfortable. I’ve always said you don’t need to work.”

“John, love, you know I don’t like to freeload, and I’m not the housewife type either.”

“I know, but you won’t be freeloading anyway. You’ll be just stuck indoors dressed funny. Doesn't mean you can’t do stuff. Babe, we’ve both been out of work before. We agreed that if only one of us works the one at home cleans and cooks. But that leaves time to do other stuff. Have you thought of running an internet business? You could sell something online!”

“Oh sure, that’ll titillate the postman when he delivers my stock,” mocked Angela. “That or send him screaming.”

“We’ll work something out babe. Try not to be too down. I know it looks grim but there’s bound to be a silver lining if we look for it.” John gave Angela a hug and kiss on the cheek. “So what time are we expecting this nurse then pet?”

“Oh, not for two or three hours yet.”

“Hungry?”

“I am, but the nurse said not to eat. I’m going on a special low volume diet apparently. Something to do with having a balloon up my arse for the next year or so.”

“Oh, sorry… Netflix?”

“Yeah, a movie may take my mind off things for a bit.”

-*-

Three and a half hours later the doorbell rang. Angela nearly jumped with fright. It was happening.

Opening the door she found it was indeed nurse Vicky. Though the woman had undergone quite a transformation since Angela had met her at the hospital. Her hair was no longer pinned up but hung down past her shoulders, the cut screamed femme fatale, as did her clothes. Vicky was wearing a black PVC (or was it latex) trench coat. Her legs were sheathed in a pair of boots that nearly out glossed the coat and were so tall as to disappear under its hem. Angela’s eyes nearly bugged out at the sight of her.

Vicky instantly caught on. “The outfit? Sorry, I said I’d come out of uniform, and as I came straight from the fetish shop… I find if I dress like a dominatrix I can intimidate the staff and get better prices.”

"Oh... Please come in," was all Angela could manage. She was disconcerted by how much Vicky's outfit was affecting her. The woman looked amazing.

Vicky stepped in and continued, "...plus, this way, once you're dressed in latex too, you'll not be the only one in fetish gear. So you'll not feel so self-conscious." Changing the subject she added, "You've a lovely home here Angela, I can't wait to see more."

At this point, John joined the two women.

"You look stunning Vicky. If Ange is going to look similar perhaps it is a blessing she has fallen ill. So where's all the stuff then?"

"In the boot of my car dear," replied Vicky holding up a set of car keys. "Be a dear and fetch it in, please. The large box to the spare room you mentioned. The bags to your bedroom. Angela dear, could I trouble you for a cup of tea?"

The two women retired to the kitchen while in the background Angela could hear John fetching in the stuff Vicky had brought.

Angela started making tea and asked, "Did you have any trouble finding us?

"No, John's instructions were quite clear, but you certainly are out in the sticks here."

"Yeah, our nearest neighbours are a mile away. Which is probably just as well when John plays his guitar."

"Is he not very good?"

"Actually he's not that bad. But he's really into his heavy metal, so it's all power chords cranked up at full volume."

"Oh dear, so I guess it is good your neighbours aren't close. So is your home a barn conversion?"

"Sort of... It's actually a new build on the site of an old cow shed, but it's been made to look like a barn conversion to get planning permission."

"Well, it's beautiful. You must be very proud. It's certainly much nicer than my flat in town."

"Thank you. Mostly John's money bought it. He works in the city, in banking. One of the many suits commuting in by train each morning."

"I see, talking of John, do you want him there the first time we dress you."

"Oh, I assumed he would have to be, so he could help me when you are no longer here."

"I will train him, but I'm going to be a daily presence for the next week at least. We can show him what to do once it's become routine for you if you like."

"Yes then, that would be much better."

At that point, John entered the kitchen.

"Everything's in," he declared handing the keys back to Vicky.

"Thank you, John. Do you think you could be an angel for me, and assemble Angela's new bed? There'll be instructions in the box."

"Sure," he replied and promptly left to do as he was bid. Vicky turned to Angela and grinned.

“Well, my dear, while your partner is busy with that, let us get you transformed into a vision of latex beauty."

A short while later Angela found herself nude in her own bedroom with a latex clad dominatrix. Vicky had removed her rubber coat to reveal a little black latex dress that was so short it barely covered her bum or her modesty from the front. It was cinched at the waist by an underbust corset. The neckline of the dress plunged at the front to display an impressive cleavage.

Angela was getting pretty flustered at all this and was really not sure where to look. Adding to her emotional confusion was the array of latex items now displayed in a row on her bed. Items she was about to put on. Or have inserted into her.

As she looked on at the items in alarm Vicky interrupted her reverie.

“Angela? Planet Earth to Angela. You in for callers dear?"

"Oh sorry, Vicky. Away with the fairies there for a bit."

"Hmm, yes. Perhaps it's time for a reality check."

"Sorry?"

"Okay Angela, when you got up this morning there was no way on earth you could have known how today was going to turn out. The Professors’ diagnosis must have come as a shock. As must the prescribed treatment."

"That's a wee bit of an understatement, Vicky."

"Further even as Sally was delivering the bad news you could not have envisioned that it would mean you would find yourself in your present situation."

"You mean naked in my bedroom, with a stunningly sexy dominatrix? Who is about to dress me in fetish gear."

“Well, thank you for the compliment. In fact, let's address that elephant in the room, shall we? I am your nurse. We are doing this to prevent you from becoming disfigured by a bacteria you have contracted. However, you are clearly finding all of this arousing. That is a normal physiological response."

"I'm that obvious?"

"Girl, later on, I've got to insert an inflatable device into your vagina. Wanna take a bet on whether I'll need any lube?"

"Erm, no," Angela blushed.

“So, getting back to the subject, we are doing this because we have to for your health. But it’s turning you on. As I said; that is normal. I’ll be frank, it turns me on too. I came dressed like this for three reasons. First, it made life easier at the shop. Secondly, I’m hoping you’ll feel less self-conscious later and finally because I enjoy dressing this way.”

“The point of this speech?” Inquired Angela.

“To say relax and enjoy this. Don’t put up a front. Be honest about how this is making you feel. But also to say, and there is no pressure if you want to adopt a role or alter the status quo between us I am comfortable with that.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“You just described me as a dominatrix. I’m actually your nurse, but if it’ll make it easier for you to get through this challenging process I can be a dominatrix. Or not, as I said; no pressure.”

“Oh my God. Erm, I’m not sure I could be that brave.”

“Angela it’s not a question of being brave. Just be you. This stuff is obviously stirring up a whole heap of previously unexplored emotions. If, later on, you start feeling that you want to ‘be’ submissive, or feel you want to be dominated or pushed, just address me as Mistress. If it gets too much call me Vicky. I can change gears pretty easy.”

“Roleplaying?”

“Whether you like it or not you have to do this. You can go with the ‘Self consciously don’s latex gear and endures confinement to avoid breakout of disfiguring disease. Or, if you want, we could play at ‘Mistress dresses her slave in fetish gear to seal her into her submission? The latter is less ominous, and could be more fun.”

“Okay, umm, well thank you for the offer. I don’t think I’m ready to go there yet. Perhaps with John later… I don’t know.”

“Angela, I’m not trying to embarrass you, or seduce you. I’m just saying you don’t need to feel shy about how this stuff makes you feel. It was made for sex even if we are repurposing it here for more serious means. So it follows it may make you feel sexy that’s all.”

“Okay, but why don’t we start off by you explaining what all this stuff on the bed is and what it is for?”

“A good idea,” beamed Vicky. She turned from Angela and bent down to pick up a collection of rubber tubes. As she did Angela was presented with a clear view of the nurse’s sex as the latex dress rose up. Each lip was pierced with five silver rings. The view startled Angela but then caused yet another flush of heat between her legs as she imagined herself being set with such jewellery.

“So this,” said Vicky, “is an enema kit. I’m afraid we are going to have to ensure you are empty and clean back there.”

“Oh,” squeaked Angela as Vicky turned and, flashing her vulva once again, rose holding up a wealth of black latex.

“This is your catsuit. It’s a neck entry item so there will be no zip under the corset.” Angela stepped forward to feel the supple rubber. But also so next time Vicky bent over she would not be behind her.

“It’s so soft,” commented Angela.

“Your new skin for the foreseeable I’m afraid, but I’m sure you are going to look stunning.” With Angela stood next to her Vicky simply pointed at the rest of the gear.

“That’s your hood. It has built-in heavy tint lenses. Your vision will be impaired for about twenty minutes after putting it on I’m afraid. Next to it is the inflatable gag. That is the vaginal insert, that is the anal plug. That is your corset. That’s a very clever item and one of the things you will need help putting on and removing.”

Vicky then lifted the lid on a large cardboard shoe box. Flicking back the tissue within she extracted a patent leather stiletto-heeled boot. It laced at the front and looked long enough to cover the calf up to just below the knee. A flap of patent leather covered the lacing at the top and was secured by a small padlock.

“These beauties are why there are a pair of crutches on the bed too. I doubt you’ll be able to walk in them at first.”

“Christ! They’ll hold me at en pointe all the time!”

“Yeah, they’re called ballet boots. I would never introduce a novice submissive to these bad boys normally. However, as the professor said we need to keep your foot and lower leg under compression for the duration. The only other alternative is to put your lower legs in air casts. That would be equally hard to walk in, more cumbersome and cause more muscle atrophy in the long term.”

“I see,” murmured Angela.

“Yeah as I said you’ll need to learn how to walk in these. But I can assure you it’s quite possible. In fact, some latex models earn a living just by posting video’s online of them walking in boots like these.”

“Nothing on the web surprises me these days.”

“I agree, however after wearing these boots for months you may need some physiotherapy afterwards to enable you to wear ordinary shoes.”

“Okay… Umm, I may not be as much of a cripple in them as you’ve assumed.”

“Really?”

“I used to do ballet. I’ve been classically trained. My en pointe work was pretty good.”

“Well, that’s fantastic. I’ve got to admit I was expecting tears and tantrums over these.”

“Hey, I’m still pretty aghast at the idea of being at en pointe for months.”

“As I would be. As I said earlier today, most fetishists only play dress up for the weekend at most.”

“So what’s in the bag at the end?”

“Ah, there are a few toys and props should you feel the need to call me Mistress.”

“Can I see or do I have to submit to look inside?”

“Of course you can see.” Vicky extracted some black leather items. “So this is a slave collar, some leather manacles. This is a ball gag, and rope is always useful. A cat o nine tails and a riding crop. This is a leash and this is a spreader bar.”

“A spreader-bar?”

“Should I decide that my slave should keep her legs spread, my dear,” answered Vicky archly.

“Oh!.. and if I called you ‘Mistress’ you would beat me with those?” Angela pointed at the whips.

“No. If you were to submit I would lock the collar and cuffs on. I would give you orders and expect you to obey. If you were disobedient… well, then you may come to feel my discipline.”

“Oh, my fuckin’ God!... Fuck!... Christ, you make it sound so hot. Vicky you’ve got me so damn worked up and John’s just down the hall. I can’t betray him no matter how turned on you get me.”

“My dear girl I have absolutely no intention of fucking you. If you end up collared I’ll hand the leash on to your man. I’m merely suggesting we acknowledge this stuff makes you horny and add some fun to what may otherwise be onerous proceedings.”

Angela stared hard at the woman before her. Right now she wanted to fuck the woman’s brains out. Not since getting together with John had she ever felt like this about another. Add to that the idea for becoming her sexual plaything was driving her crazy. Should she give in to her desires? She was getting dressed in this rubber stuff either way. If she relinquished control she could hardly be held accountable for what came after…

“In that case, Mistress, what must I do next?”

“Are you sure, girl?”

“Yes, Mistress, I’m yours.”

“Then kneel girl. Get down on your knees in the presence of your Mistress.” Angela dropped to her knees a huge grin on her face.

“Yes, Mistress.” Secretly she hoped John would invite Vicky to stay the night. Once, early in their relationship, he had half-jokingly hinted he’d like to try a ménage à trois. Then she had slapped him down. Now, with this woman, she was prepared to reconsider.

Vicky had picked up the crop and turned to face the kneeling Angela. Using the crop to indicate the offending body part she started adjusting Angela’s posture.

“Back straight girl, don’t slouch… Cross your wrists behind you… that’s right, now hold them to the small of your back… Good girl, now spread those knees… Wider, your body is mine now, not yours, you’ll not hide it from me. Now chin up… That’s it, but look down, you are a slave now and will keep your gaze on the ground unless commanded to look elsewhere. In the future, if I command you to kneel, you will assume exactly this position. Do you understand, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Excellent. So the ground rules. You will obey me in all things or I will punish you. That is not an idle threat. I have a sadistic streak and thoroughly enjoy whipping naughty girls like you. It turns me on, so be careful you don’t give me an excuse.”

“Yes, Mistress, I understand.”

“Good, from now on you will address me, as you have been doing, as Mistress. If you have to refer to me to a third party you will use my title and first name; Mistress Victoria. You will call John, Master, and refer to him as either as ‘my Master’ or ‘my owner,’ his name is forbidden to your lips. The only exception to this is if someone asks you specifically what your Master’s name is.”

“I understand, Mistress.”

“You will address all other men you may meet in future as Sir, all other women as Ma’am. The only exception to that is holders of professional titles. So you will be calling Sally Boult ‘Professor’. Now enough talking let's get on with things.”

Mistress Victoria picked up the collar from the bed and squatted down behind Angela. Angela felt the fetter being passed around her neck. Mistress Victoria fastened it around her throat tightly. Angela briefly considered asking her to loosen it slightly but decided against it. Mistress had seemed very keen to use the crop. Suddenly there was a click from behind her. It had been locked in place? Oh God this was so fucking hot.

Rapidly each of the leather cuffs was locked in place on each of her limbs and then Angela felt the soft rope behind her too. First, her wrists were bound together and then drawn up her back as high as was comfortable before being bound to her collar. Her elbows were then bound and drawn towards each other forcing her to pull her shoulders back even more.

Then Angela felt the hard surface of the ball gag at her lips. Dutifully Angela opened her mouth and her Mistress drew the ball deep into her mouth, behind her teeth, before fastening the strap tight at the back of her neck.

It suddenly dawned on Angela that she could no longer utter her safe word of, “Vicky.” That Mistress would not stop now. That she was truly helpless and at her captors' mercy. With that realisation came new flames of lust. How had she gone so long through life without discovering this?

Angela’s Mistress came around and knelt in front of her slave. Her knees between the widely spread knees of her captive. Her face leered in close to the gagged girl under her thrall.

“I am so glad you made this decision slave. I have been aching to collar you since I laid eyes on you. You are beautiful and I so wish that you were mine and mine alone. However, you belong to another and I shall respect that. But if you trust in me and hold the course, I shall use the time we do have together to train you to be the most wonderful slave girl and your owner the most envied person in the lifestyle.”

Victoria lent in and placed a passionate kiss on her slave’s gagged mouth.

“So now you find yourself bound and helpless when you expected to be dressed in rubber. I have done this as the first thing I must do is be mean to you. I do not want to be cruel to you this early on in your training, but your condition forces my hand.”

Angela’s Mistress placed another kiss on her forehead and then stood.

"Okay slave, lean forward and place your head on the ground. Then I want you to lift your beautiful backside up in the air for me so you are balanced on your head and feet only."

Gingerly Angela completed the manoeuvre. Given the items displayed on the bed, it was obvious what was coming. That she was helping her Mistress heap this indignity upon herself, despite the bondage she was held in, seemed even more bizarre.

Her fears were confirmed as she felt the cold touch of lube being smeared around and then briefly in her anus. A small whimper escaped the gag lodged in her mouth.

"Be brave beautiful. We have to do this. In fact, it's going to become routine. So you need to get used to this. Now it will go easier if you push back against the nozzle as if you were doing a poo, my dear."

The tube was not thick and Angela squealed more in surprise than pain or discomfort. The feeling of warmth as the fluid flowed into her was most odd and at worst she simply felt bloated.

"Okay slave, you may slowly return to a kneeling position. Remember to kneel exactly as I showed you."

Angela obeyed the command concentrating on spreading her knees wide and keeping her back straight.

"Good girl," praised Victoria. As she hooked the enema bag, still plumbed into Angela, to the headboard of the bed.

"Now slave, the fluid inside you needs a little time to work its magic. So I want you to stay there and keep quite still. No matter how much you may think you need to go to the toilet you are forbidden to move from this spot or to open your bowels, without my express permission. Nod if you understand me."

Angela dutifully nodded for her Mistress.

"Good girl, while that happens I'm just going to see how your Master is coming on with your new sleeping arrangements." So saying the nurse 'come dominatrix marched out of the room.

-*-

Vicky was delighted that everything was going to plan. Angela was a natural submissive. Vicky was certain there would be no going back to vanilla ways for this couple. The only element of doubt was John. Was he Dom material?

Vicky was not convinced. Intellectually he was up to the task, but he didn't seem motivated. He still thought he was pulling a prank, had not recognised the light of avarice and lust in his partner's eyes when Vicky had arrived.

Vicky found John finishing up with the set up of the vacuum bed in the guest bedroom.

"All done?" She inquired from the doorway.

"I think so," he answered without looking up. "You'll probably want to double-check I've done it right before we use it."

John stood and turned to face Vicky, "I still can't believe people do this, or that we will convince Ange to go through with it. I think we are pushing our luck."

"Oh don't you worry about that," answered Vicky. "Angela has fully invested already. Right now she is kneeling in bondage enduring her first enema. The girl nearly came when I locked her collar on."

"My Ange, in bondage? You’re kidding right?"

"Nothing sexual has taken place, so calm down. Nor has she been coerced. I simply showed her some fetters and asked her if she'd like to try."

"Jesus!"

"I'll tread on no toes John, but I'll tell you this for nothing. Your girlfriend is a natural submissive. If you allowed me to work, I could have the girl happily licking my cunny while you pump your cock in her arse. Plus she'd lick your dick clean afterwards."

"Bollocks!"

"Well if you prefer I could have her licking your balls while you and I fucked. The point is the girl is already in deep. I'm afraid your joke may have backfired a wee bit. You thought she'd be mad at being tricked. Thing is, she is revelling in her situation."

"I don't believe you. She was proper freaking when we left the hospital."

"I'm sure she was. Yet the moment she saw me dressed for action when I arrived, all I saw was lust. Plus by role-playing, she can distract herself from the nightmare scenario you've invented for her."

"This I need to see..."

"Not yet, she's not ready. Let her don the cloak of anonymity the latex will afford her. In her new skin, she will be strong enough to face those she formally knew with her new persona. Barge in there now and you will shatter the new reality I have created for her."

"Fuck!"

"Just go wait in your lounge. Put the telly on. I'll bring her down on a leash, ready to suck your cock dry and call you Master, before we seal her in this bed for the night. Once we've done that you and I can have a chat on how to proceed with your transformed lover."