Eighty One – Laura's Story Pt. 06

Laura’s excitement intensified as the day wore on. Knowing that the bishop was within her grasp made the waiting laborious. She was already on her final warning: ask whether it was time to leave just once more and Andrew had threatened to warm her backside again. In the end she decided to take Jasper for a walk. She knew how long each route took and picked the one she knew would take the same time as she had to wait. Don’t hurry she told herself, let him sniff and take his time or they would be back too soon. It was a lovely evening, warm with a gentle breeze. Her thoughts naturally returned to the exhibition. After the disappointments she had suffered so far, she wasn’t convinced that it would be as simple as the gallery owner had led her to believe. In any event, she was determined to get that bishop, and was ready to face their misleading tricks.

Once Jasper had been confined to the conservatory they were ready to leave. The drive took longer than they anticipated. They had allowed for heavy traffic but not for an evening kick-off at the football stadium. Still, they were at the gallery just after seven. The door was locked but the lights were on inside. The owner appeared moments after Andrew rang the bell.

“Mrs Miller, how nice to see you again. Come in, come in,” she said ushering them inside.

“This is Andrew, my husband.” The owner shook his hand.

“Pleased to meet you Andrew. As you can see, we’re nearly ready.” The gallery looked good. The main lights were turned down low leaving spotlights to draw attention to the exhibits. The owner gave them a brief tour of the exhibition as they made their way to the back of the gallery. Apparently, most of the illustrations were drawn for magazine articles and published from the late seventies and throughout the eighties. Laura recognized some of them from her internet research. The easily noticeable theme being women dressed in leather and latex bound in uncomfortable positions. “You must come back next week and see them in more detail,” she said to Laura, “I doubt you’ll have time tonight.”

“Yes, I’d like that, thank you.”

They went through to a back room where various people were milling around. A side table held trays of food covered in silver foil. Glasses, of various shapes and sizes, stood next to an assortment of wines, fruit juice and overpriced water. Laura took in the sight with some relief. At least they were serving drinks and finger food; perhaps the woman had been straight with her. On seeing them enter the room a young man made his way over.

“This is Mark,” the owner said by way of introduction, “he looks after the exhibits in the collection.” They shook hands and made small talk for a couple of minutes. Laura noticed that the two young ladies organizing the food were dressed in black skirts and white blouses. She had chosen a red summer dress with a bold flower pattern. She spoke to the owner.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t know it was quite so formal,” she motioned to the young ladies, “should I have worn black?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine.” Then she turned to the young man. “So Mark, does Mrs Miller fit the bill?”

“Oh yes, no problem there at all,” the young man said with a pleasant smile.

“Great. Come on then, we’d better get you ready.” Laura followed her out of the room. They walked down a short passageway before reaching another door. The room looked like a store with frames, stands and boxes neatly stacked to one side. “You can get changed in here, your clothes are on the bench, but we’d best do your make up first.”

“My make up?”

“Oh yes, Mark insists that it’s all true to the Bishop style. Sit here and I’ll see to you.” Laura sat on the bench and waited while the woman gathered various items from a table.

That tingle of excitement revealed itself once more. She knew it was another of their games, a ruse to humiliate her and more than likely there would be a plan to trip her up, but Laura was determined that it wasn’t going to work. During their trip to Devon she had declared her willingness to see this through and Andrew’s consent eliminated the need for guilt. A new found freedom to enjoy the adventure had taken away the worry and self reproach. It had turned into a personal battle to find out whether she could endure what they had planned. She welcomed the opportunity to be swept along on the tide of the unknown, and of course she could endure whatever they threw at her. By the end of the evening that bishop would be hers.

“Let’s get your hair done first.” She brushed Laura’s hair up into her hand forming a tight ponytail right on the top of her head. “There we go.” She said as she skilfully slipped a strong elastic band over the tail, holding it in place. “Not too tight is it?”

“No, It’s fine,” Laura assured her, smiling. Starting at the base she then wound black sticky tape around the ponytail until about three inches stood in a firm vertical tube from the top of Laura’s head. The bright red lipstick she chose from the bag had never been used. After pulling off the plastic wrapper she stooped down and applied it to Laura’s lips. “Do you want to work that in for me.” Laura rubbed her lips together. The thick paste felt slightly sticky. “It’s special stuff, takes a while to dry, but once it does it’ll last all day.” The woman continued to apply the make up. Laura knew that a lot of women found it uncomfortable to have another person make them up but she had always found it quite pleasant. She liked to visit the big department stores and be made up by the staff. It always seemed to end up being too heavy for the daytime but she looked good.

After a few minutes the task had been completed. Reaching into the bag one more time the woman pulled out a hand mirror which she passed to Laura. The image took her by surprise: she really did look like the women in the illustrations and nothing like the real Laura. It was so erotic, and she loved it.

“That’s you done then. Your outfit’s on the bench over there. If you’d like to get undressed I’ll give you a hand getting into it, it’ll be a bit of a struggle on your own.” Laura assessed the items on the bench, they didn’t surprise her. She quickly undressed, neatly folding her clothes before placing them on the seat. Being naked before strangers had become second nature to her and embarrassment a thing of the past. She picked up the dark blue, latex cat-suit.

“It’ll be easier to start with the hood,” the woman said, “and then pull the neck of the suit down over it.” The hood’s thin, black material stretched easily and covered Laura’s head perfectly; her new ponytail poked through the top. There were holes for her eyes and mouth and two small breathing holes beneath her nostrils. “Wow, you look great, see?” the woman said, holding the mirror up. There was no evidence of Laura in the reflection, only an anonymous fetish model.

It took a few minutes to wriggle into the suit before the woman closed the discreet zip from Laura’s pubic area up to the middle of her back. After sealing her in the woman walked round to the front and, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, she adjusted Laura’s breasts which protruded from two holes in the front of the suit. A corset and long gloves, both in black latex completed the outfit. “There are some shoes under the bench, they should fit,” the woman said, “then we can finish your make up.” The ‘shoes’ turned out to be black shiny ankle boots with enormous heels.

“I can’t walk in these, I’ll break an ankle.”

“Don’t worry, you wont have much walking to do.” Laura put the boots on and found them to be quite comfortable. How did they know her size? The woman then completed her make up by applying the red lipstick to her nipples. Unhappy with the first attempt she wiped it off with a clear liquid and had a second attempt. “Perfect. You do look good,” she said admiringly, “Robert Bishop would be proud. Lets get you out there then. Oh hang on, where’s that reel?” She sorted through the bag once more before pulling out a reel of black cotton.

“What’s that for?”

“To tie you up with.” She said, as though it was obvious.

Andrew and Mark were discussing one of the illustrations as Laura was helped into the gallery. “Wow, look at you.” Andrew said while slowly walking around her. “Beautiful, just beautiful.”

“We’re all ready here so lets get you in position.” Mark said, walking her over to the centre of the gallery where a raised black circular dais stood below a bright spotlight. “Let me help you up. Kneel down facing the front door.” He adjusted the position of her wrists and ankles to line up with tiny black plastic rings set two feet apart into the surface of the dais. The position spread her legs and made her backside stick out. Her breasts hung down beneath her, the bright red nipples, highlighted by the spotlight, drawing in the eye. She couldn’t have felt more exposed if she were naked.

“This is a scene from a series Bishop did called ‘Fanny hall’,” the owner informed Robert as they stood watching Mark work. “We’re making a slight variation from the original with the bindings.” She then spoke directly to Laura. “It would be easy to tie you in position, as the girl was in the original, and you’d have no option but to see this through, but we won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. What we have in mind will be much harder, forcing yourself to stay put. Mark’s using just one strand of cotton at each ankle and wrist to tie you so you can leave whenever you want. But I’m sure you want that bishop badly enough to stay, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Laura answered, her voice barely audible.

“And if you can keep so still that all the threads are intact at the end of the night it’ll be yours.” She turned back to Andrew. “I have every confidence in her, she looks very determined.”

“You don’t know the half of it. She’ll do it, just you see.” Laura appreciated his confidence in her. She would not let him down again.