Chapter 7
Thelma Webb muttered darkly as she strained with her arms behind her back, trying to draw the thongs tighter on her leather corset. Damn Arthur anyhow! He had left the apartment an hour ago without a word to her about where he intended to go or how long he would be away.
This was not like Arthur at all, for he knew that she held the upper hand, that she insisted on his getting her permission before he did anything.
But lately Arthur had been more surly than he had ever dared be before. He had disobeyed her in many small ways, and she had been foolish enough to let him get away with it. It was time to clamp down on him hard and bring him back in line. She did not like to think that she was losing control over him, even a little bit.
She had counted on Arthur's being there when she dressed in her leather costume, because it was difficult to dress alone. The corset presented a special problem, since it laced up in back and had to be drawn very tight.
Arthur would pay for this! To think that he should dare stay away so long without a word as to his whereabouts!
Cursing under her breath, Thelma held the tension on the corset laces while she tied an awkward knot with her hands working behind her. When she dropped her arms and took a deep breath, she found that the corset was tighter than she had expected. It did not pinch so that she could feel tiny little pains darting through her flesh. But it would have to do.
Standing before her mirror, Thelma ran her hands across the sleek curving swath of leather which encased her middle. The black shiny surface gleamed from a special polishing she had given it. As her fingers caressed the shiny surface, she felt a sudden, thrilling sensation of joy and contentment. She heaved a sigh of pleasure.
Thelma sat on the bed and put on the black net stockings she had laid out to wear. They clung deliciously to the smooth tapering curves of her legs.
Pulling at the tops of the hose, she fastened them one at a time to the snaps which hung down on small ribbons from the corset. She twisted her legs and smoothed out the wrinkles until she was satisfied.
Then she walked over to the closet to get her boots. They were so lovely that her heart pounded with joy. Handsome boots with bizarre stiletto heels and thick white laces which ran from the top down to the middle of the instep.
She sat on the bed and pulled on the boots. Then she laced them up carefully, keeping the crisscross lines as even as possible. When she stood up the fantastically high heels made her feel very tall, very powerful.
From the closet she took the dress she had decided on an ordinary street dress which would not be half as exciting as a clinging leather gown. But of course there was a limit to the kind of costume she dared wear in public, even for the short period of time it would take her to get to her destination.
Anyhow, as soon as she got there she would dispense with the dress. It was merely a covering to keep her decent as if she wanted to be decent!
Since she had discovered the delights of bizarre clothing, she had gloried in the wild sensations of utter wickedness which she derived from body-clinging leather and the weight of a whip in her hand.
The cloth dress felt so flimsy in contrast to the hardness of the corset and boots. But it was a concession she had to make. The only concession.
From the dresser she took a pair of black leather gloves which were a perfect match for her boots. They felt as tight as her own skin when she slid them up her arms and smoothed out the wrinkles. The stiffness of the leather clinging to her fingers gave her a feeling of strength.
There was one more item, and she was ready to go. From the drawer of her dresser she took a small black whip that was made of braided leather thongs with a handle grip attached to one end. This she put in her purse as she walked through the living room and went out the door.
The elevator operator eyed her boots and gloves curiously, but did not dare make a comment. Thelma did not ride all the way down to the lobby, but got off at the seventh floor. She had a rendezvous with a young man who lived in the same apartment building.
She had met Richard Gillis in the lobby yesterday. He was a rather pale and effeminate young man whose perverse nature she had recognized at once when he had shown an unusual interest in her leather boots. A kind of mutual understanding between them had begun at once.
She did not yet know exactly what form their little adventure would take, but she was certain that it would be strange and exciting. She was ready for anything-anything, that is, which would satisfy the wild hungers which were beginning to boil up inside her.
When Richard Gillis met her at the door, he was wearing a house robe of delicate pink. It was a woman's robe, but this did not shock Thelma in the least. She had just about suspected that Richard's tastes would run in this direction.
"Come in, Thelma-" he said eagerly. "I'm so happy to see you. I was afraid you might decide not to come."
Thelma refrained from smiling. She walked imperiously into the apartment, which was very much like her own.
"I've just stepped out of the shower," Richard said with a suppressed giggle. "Maybe you'd like to help me dress-"
"All right-" Thelma said and followed him into the bedroom.
Without a word of explanation, Richard slipped out of the robe and stood before her completely naked. Thelma saw that he had shaved his chest and legs so that all of his body was smooth and white.
When he turned away from her and stood before the full-length mirror, she saw that there was a softness to his body which made it appear like that of a young girl's. He tilted his head and twisted his hips coquettishly, in a manner that was definitely not masculine.
Thelma smiled with amusement.
This was going to be very interesting, perhaps even exciting. If he wanted to play the part of a tender young girl, then he was going to be easy to dominate.
Tripping across the floor, Richard stopped before the bed, where he had laid out a number of things. Spreading the elastic top of a pair of nylon panties, he stepped daintily into them, wriggling his hips delightedly. It was obvious to Thelma that he enjoyed dressing himself in women's clothing while she watched.
"How cool they feel," Richard said, smoothing the panties around his waist. "You girls are so lucky to be able to wear them all the time-"
As though in a trance, he stood before his mirror, staring at his image with narcissistic delight. When at last he turned away, he picked up a padded bra from the bed. He pulled it around his chest and turned his back to Thelma.
"Help me with it, would you, dear?"
There was such a definite feminine lilt to his voice that Thelma had the strange feeling he had already been transformed into a girl. After she had fastened the bra, he drew a deep breath. The padded bra stood out, giving his body a new and seductive shape.
Richard was trembling with eagerness now. He could hardly wait to fasten the garter belt around his waist. Then he sat on the bed and encased his slim legs in clinging nylon hose. Tilting each leg, he hooked the fasteners, then stood up to smooth the stockings.
With an effeminate wriggle of his hips, he walked across and took a dress from the closet, a pink jersey dress with a low V-neck. He pulled the dress over his head and smoothed it around his waist.
Then from a large box he took a wig, which he put on as he looked into the mirror, adjusting it carefully.
The sudden transformation was startling. Thelma stared in amazement, for if she had seen him on the street dressed as he was now she would have been convinced that he was a girl. His disguise was that perfect.
Richard sat at his dressing table and hummed gaily while he applied make-up, then touched his lips with carmine. He was so entranced with himself that he hardly knew Thelma was there. But Thelma was beginning to tire of this game in which she played no part at all. This was not why she had come here. She was here to satisfy her own lustful pleasures.
"Richard-" she said gruffly.
He turned around, a little startled by her tone of voice. Sadly he shook his head.
"Don't call me that please. Call me Ramona."
Thelma was losing patience, but she decided to humor him in this one request. After all, the name was more suitable for what he had become.
"Come here, Ramona-"
Her voice was fierce and demanding. Richard jumped up quickly, not daring to disobey her. Thelma opened her purse and took out the leather whip. Richard's eyes grew wide, and he began to tremble with terror. Or was it excitement that caused him to tremble? Thelma had detected certain things about him which made her believe that he would willingly play her own twisted game.
"What are you going to do?" he gasped.
"Kneel down " she demanded harshly.
"Yes, master," he replied, falling to the floor. And then he began to whimper. "Oh, please don't hurt my pretty dress-"
Thelma's laugh was hard and malicious. That was all part of the game she intended to play. It would be a pleasure to rip the dress from his cowering body, a shred at a time.
Richard was drawn up in a tight knot of expectant terror, his face pressed against the rug at her feet. Thelma was shaky inside with her own rising excitement. She lifted her arm and brought the whip down.
The lash struck diagonally across his back, the point of it curved around his buttock. He let out a cry of pain and reached out to clutch the toes of her boots. With one blow Thelma had split the flimsy dress apart so that his back and silk-clad bottom were exposed.
Again she struck, this time ripping the panties asunder. Richard's cry of agony echoed off the walls of the room, yet Thelma detected a note of frenzied delight in his voice.
"Mercy!" he sobbed. "Oh, please have mercy."
Thelma lashed down at him time after time, leaving the mark of the whip on his tender skin. He squirmed continually as though he were caught up in an erotic trance. And he did not once struggle to escape the biting punishment.
There was a fierce burning in Thelma's stomach, a wild sensual excitement. A cruel smile spread across her lips. She raised her arm and brought it down again and again until she grew exhausted and had to stop.
Richard lay whimpering before her, his back inflamed with the crisscrossed welts which covered him from his shoulders to the upper part of his legs. When at last he looked up at her, he heaved a tremulous sigh. From the look in his eyes, she knew that he was still delirious from a strange combination of pleasure and pain.
He had received his own pleasure, but she was still trembling with unfulfilled lust. There was a raging inside her that had to be calmed.
Reaching behind her back, she pulled down the zipper. Her dress fell away, and she quickly stepped out of it. Richard's eyes bugged out when he saw the strange leather costume she wore underneath. His gaze was drawn hypnotically to the tight black corset and the dark mystery of her exposed thighs.
Then his glance fell upon her boots, as though he had just noticed them for the first time. He stared entranced, and Thelma became aware of the exotic feel of the leather which encased her feet and ankles.
"Worship my boots-" she demanded hoarsely.
Richard never took his eyes from them for an instant. Inching slowly forward, he put his lips against one leather toe. Thelma felt the warm contact, even through the leather.
Sharp electric thrills raced through her. The nipples of her breasts, which had been uncovered when she tore away her dress, began to stiffen and throb. The power to dominate this groveling, effeminate man filled her with wild sensations. She was his master!
Staggering back, she sat down upon the bed. Then she raised one foot and fixed Richard with a fierce stare.
"Take off the boot-" she ordered.
Richard's fingers pulled awkwardly at the laces until he had untied the knot. He was trembling all over with excitement. Grasping both the heel and the toe of the boot, he pulled it off her foot.
There were sharp red lines in her pale flesh where the leather had pinched harshly. Richard lowered his head devotedly and touched his lips to the arch.
Thelma shivered with erotic pleasure at the feel of his wet, feverish kisses. He caressed her ankle eagerly then drew his open mouth downward, supporting her bare foot in both his hands. A mewling, whimpering sound of animal hunger poured from deep in his throat.
All at once he closed his mouth, enveloping her toes.
Thelma gasped and lurched up from the bed. She could not keep from shivering. Waves of delicious sensation swept over her as he drew each toe between his eager lips.
Thelma's breathing grew harsh. Her heavy breasts rose and fell rapidly. There was a sensual tingling in her nipples, which were so swollen with erotic hardness that she thought at any moment they might explode. Her whole body was flushed. Sparks darted along her spine, bursting like tiny rockets into her reeling brain.
And still Richard continued to caress the foot with hypnotic devotion. His head moved up and down as he knelt before her, caught up in a lustful frenzy that was as ravenous and violent as her own.
With her eyes closed, Thelma was thrillingly aware of everything he did. She quivered all over when she felt his wet tongue stroking between each toe. The engulfing warmth of his mouth was almost unbearable. His lips trembled, his hands caressed lovingly.
But after a while she began to tire of what was happening to her. This was only the beginning, the foreplay which roused her sensual hunger but did not satisfy it. Only the final act would bring her fulfillment.
"Stop-" she ordered. "Now you must come closer. Higher. Do you understand?"
He nodded his head and placed her foot upon the floor. Then he leaned forward. Thelma's pulse leaped up when she felt his warm breath above her knees.
Seated on the bed, she moved her legs wider apart and tilted her haunches. She slid her hands across the tightly squeezing corset, spread her flame-tipped fingers on the smooth white dome of her belly.
Richard moved closer, his eyes staring, his excited breath pouring through parted lips. Gently he slid his hands upward along the white flesh of her legs. His fingers began to stroke, igniting the fires in her loins.
"Now-" she murmured thickly. "Hurry-"
His face was very close to her now, so close that the heat of his breathing was like a teasing caress. She ached for the final contact, every atom of her excited body was aglow with sensual hunger.
Uncontrollably Thelma's hips began to revolve slowly as his fingers stroked with tender reverence, moving deliberately, inflaming her beyond endurance.
And then he lowered his head!
"I'm burning!" she cried. "Don't stop! I'm on fire!"
His clutching fingers and rolling head drove her over the precipice and beyond. She was soaring through space like a blazing comet. Fire devoured her loins. She thrust her hips wildly until all the strength faded out of her body. Then she fell back, whimpering and exhausted upon the bed.