Celine's Seduction To Rubber

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

My Dressing Continues

I was certain she had noticed my reaction to the rubber cape when it brushed against my skin. The short journey to my room seemed to take an age, my body almost floating above the carpet. The cape, trailing behind me, caught the rush of air while we walked, creating a continuous whooshing sound, almost a whistling and I shuddered for some strange reason at this unusual noise.

Back in the bedroom, the smell of rubber was even more pronounced, pervading every corner with its pungency. Even with my senses aglow and my bond with reality slim, I noticed the changes that had taken place in my absence. My bed had now been made up, but not for me a feminine satin. My counterpane was of shining, white rubber and beneath its neatly turned back edge, was yet more rubber; a sharp contrast of black, but this time of dull texture and obviously quite thick. I had been granted but one pillow, and this too was sheathed in matching black.

I approached the bed and felt the dark, forbidding sheets and pillow case to find that unlike the my new underwear, this rubber was indeed thick and difficult to draw in folds between my fingers.

“Never mind that now Celine.” Frau Baxter took my wrist and drew me towards her side of the room. “We must finish your dressing before you can have some tea.” She led me to face her closed wardrobe. “Now, spread out your feet and lean forward like this.” She stood nearly a metre from the it and with her outstretched arms horizontal, leant against its door. I copied her action and when she had adjusted the position of my palms to be a little further apart, she bent to pick up something from her bed. The tell-tale smell introduced yet another rubber garment which was quickly passed around my middle. In the mirror set into the wardrobe’s door, I saw at once that it was a corset. I had known my mother to wear one on occasions, and my grandmother never left the house without she was wrapped in the embrace of her stays, but I had never seen the like of this, nor dreamt that I would ever be required to wear such a thing!

It was bright red in colour and I noted it was in fact a laminate of rubber – almost as thick as a pencil – and some other unknown material which formed a lining for its inner surface. I closed my eyes for a moment, once more letting the aroma take over my senses while she drew the corset together behind my back. Its lower edge extended down to ride on my pelvis and its upper reached up tight under my armpits. My breasts, sheathed in the grey rubber of the undergarment, were lifted and sat firmly within rigid half cups on its front. Frau Baxter next wrapped a belt about my middle to hold it in position whilst she threaded and drew in its lacing from top to bottom. When this task was complete, she moved once again to the corset’s upper edge between my shoulder blades, and with harsh jerking motions, proceeded to pull the laces in even tighter. I stood silent and still until I felt that she had reached the bottom edge. She next removed the temporary belt and I assumed she was finished. How wrong I was! When I attempted to push away from the wardrobe and stand erect her hand pressed into the small of my back and forced me to resume my position.

“Not yet girl!” she snapped, “I am not finished!” then continued. “The corset is only hanging on you Celine. What good do you think it would do if I left it so loose?” Here was another of her rhetorical questions. “By the time I have finished today, I expect to see a change in your figure and posture. Not much to be sure, for that will take time, but today I shall make a start on you my pretty one.”

By the time Frau Baxter had tightened the laces a second time, I was fighting for each breath, but still she was not finished!

“Stretch up, and draw in your chest and abdomen when I pull, Celine!” she ordered sharply.

There was little room for me to do any such thing, but I made the attempt though, and with each try, another section of the lacing was drawn tighter. By the time she was at last satisfied, I could not even bear to push myself upright, so great was the strain on my spine. Frau Baxter pulled me back and stood alongside until she was sure I would not fall over. In the mirror’s reflection I marvelled at the change the corset had wrought. I could not move anything between my shoulders and thighs, for it enclosed and crushed my entire torso ... and she had said that this was only the beginning!

The thing appeared, at first glance, to have been fashioned from one piece of the rubber laminate, but closer examination disproved that for I could see that faultless and almost invisible seams joined many separate pieces of the polished material. By attempting some movement I felt boning within its structure; metal that would bend slightly, but then quickly spring back to its original alignment. My abdominal and other muscles already ached at being forced into their new positions for where the garment held in my stomach, it pushed out my rear, almost forming a shelf behind my waist. My chest, conversely, was pushed forward with my upper spine, which was now held ramrod straight and vertical to my now tiny waist and my whole torso resembled a giant hourglass that had been tilted at thirty degrees from the horizontal. The constricted middle of this hourglass, my waist, had undergone an unbelievable modification.

“That is an excellent start, Celine. Sit down now at your desk and I will bring the tea.” She was smiling at my discomfort I believe.

Frau Baxter turned on her heel and I heard her striding down the stairs. I carefully did as she had ordered; glad to be able to take the rest, but was forced to move slowly for it was as though the joints in my body had been locked. I wanted to test the size of my waist, but had no measuring tape to hand. The belt of a dress I had worn before my shower lay unnoticed beneath my dressing table, and so I eased it to my side with my toe, then managed to lean over enough to pick it up. I wrapped it around my now solid middle then threaded its end through the buckle, but being held so rigidly now by the corset, I was unable to see the extent of the decrease in my waist size and so marked the new location of the tightened buckle with my finger. I carefully removed the belt and lifted it to my eyes. I was astonished! Even with only this rough appraisal, it was obvious that my waist size had been cut by twenty-five percent. I had been proud of my sixty-four centimetre size, but even erring on the conservative, I calculated that this corset had subtracted sixteen cm or more from that! I reached round to the back gingerly and felt for the gap still open between the edges of my rubber prison and thankfully, there seemed to be less than a fingertip’s width of adjustment remaining.

I heard what I thought was the rattle of crockery when Frau Baxter re-entered the room and turned my head slowly to find that instead, she was carrying a tray containing what looked like a large metal funnel and other strange objects. The tray was placed on her bed and I saw that she now wore a heavy, white, rubber apron. She took only one thing from the tray; a long, brown rubber tube, then, approaching me, began to stretch it between her hands. It was laid on the desk in front of me and from a pocket in the apron there came a small jar. This she opened, then dipped two fingers into the translucent cream it held and began coating the tube; spreading it evenly along virtually the whole length and taking care not to leave any part dry, save for seven or eight centimetres at one end. I shuddered to think what was coming next.

“You need not be afraid, Celine,” she said. “You must learn that I will do nothing to permanently harm you. Everything is for your own good no matter how harsh or strange it may seem at the time.” I wanted to believe this woman. I needed to desperately, for my father had left me in her hands! “Now, I have decided,” she continued, “that because of your poor manners at table today, you will have to earn the right to be able to feed yourself. Until I feel that time has arrived, I shall assume the task. Now, tilt your chin back with your head high and open your mouth wide. I shall feed this tube into it and you must swallow it whilst I do! I warn you not to baulk, nor try to expel it once it has started the journey to your stomach.”

It was as I suspected, although I had hoped, dearly hoped, that I might be wrong! The infernal rubber pipe was to remove from me the power to chew and swallow my own food and it would stop me from tasting what I consumed while at the same time rob me of the freedom to eat or refuse what I would. I began to slide along the bench of my desk for this was more than I could take. I had to get out of this room and reach the safety of my father’s arms! He could not be aware of what this woman was doing to me, and surely would not let it continue once he did.

How wrong I was!

Before I reached the end of the seat, unseen hands; strong male hands, grasped my arms and pinned me to it! My own father would hold me whilst this so-called Governess tubed me like a goose to be fattened for its liver! With one hand Frau Baxter took hold of my nose and whilst thus cutting off the air passage, used the purchase to lift my head up and back. I was powerless to stop her when she began to feed the slippery rubber hose relentlessly into my mouth and down my throat! My body’s automatic reaction to try and expel this foreign invader caused me to retch, and that immediately turned to a helpless, gargling scream, but I was quickly losing consciousness.

The last thing I heard was my father’s voice.

“Be strong my child!” he beseeched, “It is for your own good! I am sure it is for your own good!” I remember thinking as I passed out, that this woman must have cast some spell on him, making him echo her words! If he was in his own right mind, he could not believe that such a thing was for anything good whatsoever!