Chapter Three: The Dreams Begin
===============================

:Author: Gospodin 

.. meta::
   :shs-title: The Enslavement of Marie
   :shs-author: Gospodin
   :shs-part: 3
   :shs-keywords: f, latex, mc

The house was pitch black when the two women arrived. Marie sighed with relief
and turned the entryway lights up to a dim glow, hoping Angelica wouldn't
notice the black outline of the rubber bra through her white top.

Angelica took Marie's overcoat from her, almost submissively, and hung it in
the closet. Marie stepped toward the entrance to the living room, fumbling for
the dial that turned the electric chandelier on.

"Listen, Maria..." Angelica stuttered. Marie turned around, dread filling her
at what Angie was going to say. She must have seen right through her all day,
and was just now getting up the courage to scold her. Marie's hands grew cold
with fear.

"Maria, I have a confession to make..." Angelica's eyes never left the floor,
lingering on Marie's polished leather toes. "I... I lost the key you gave me."

Marie gasped in horror. Was that the glint of steel she saw coming from the
blackness of the living room? Was someone behind the couch?

Angelica continued, "I know you trusted me with it, and I should have told you
sooner so that you could get your locks changed, but..."

Marie's voice faltered as she asked, "H-how.. How long ago?"

"Three months--Oh Maria I'm *so sorry*! Please forgive me! I never mean for you
to come to any harm, and I'll pay for the new locks. Here, I know a good
locksmith." Angelica held out a card, written in a firm caligraphic hand.

The apologies were cut short. A black figure leapt from the shadows, and it was
five full seconds before Angelica found the breath to scream. The figure
pounced on Marie, tearing open her blouse and skirt with his wicked curved
knife, revealing the rubber underthings.

Marie let out a shriek and sat bolt-upright in bed. Panting heavily, she looked
all over her room. Her turtleneck and skirt were folded over a chair, intact,
and her boots lay unzipped on the floor. Gasping out a sigh of relief, Marie
dropped back onto her pillow and massaged her eyes.

Try as she might, she could not bring herself to sleep again after that dream.
Pulling on a dressing gown, she began to wander the house turning the lights
on. Neurotically, she checked every cupboard and closet, making sure the phone
still worked and her keys still turned all the locks. Satisfied, she walked to
the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Shrugging the robe off, she caught a glimpse of herself in the slowly-fogging
mirror. Glossy black covered her mound and the bottom of her breasts, with
gleaming straps hanging onto her shoulders. Timid and confused, she reached up
to touch the slick underwear.

How could she have left them on, even when going to bed? Had she been so tired
that she didn't bother to take them off? No, she thought, the hairs on her
mound were gone.

Marie slipped a hand beneath the waistline of the black briefs, feeling her
smooth pussy. Not only had she shaved and depilated herself, but she had put a
soothing lubricant on. The ticklers at her clit moved smoothly and sensuously
through the cool thick medium, and Marie realized that she was as aroused as
she was frightened.

Looking up, she saw that the mirror was completely fogged over. Drawing the
curtain back, she stepped into the shower and began to massage her scalp. She
worked a glob of shampoo into it, and began to lather.

The warm water felt so good against her tired muscles, and the tears and sweat
of the day's ordeal were washed away with the hot rain. Rinsing her short red
hair well, she grabbed the conditioner and squeezed a healthy dollop of it onto
her head, working it in deep.

The conditioner was slick and smooth, and had a strange smell to her. She
traced it down her face and sniffed her hand, surrounded by the hot steam.
Looking down at the bottle, she saw that it was not hair conditioner at all,
but rather a latex-safe lubricant.

The confusion and anxiety quickly returned. Looking down, Marie realized that
she had again neglected to remove the rubber undergarments. Pushing her hand
into the bra, she worked the smooth lube over her rock-hard nipples. Soon all
thoughts of cleaning left her, and she began to touch herself in earnest,
spreading the gooey lube all over her body.

Her fear and arousal reached a fever pitch, her skin feeling hot even in the
warm water. Her hands groped and tweaked and rubbed her erogenous zones. She
had kept the teasing latex on for over fourteen hours now, and her need for
release was now much greater than her need for answers.

Kneeling in the cast-iron tub, she arched her head back and shoved both hands
into her panties. The passion within her boiled, even as the hot water for the
shower dwindled. A cold sprinkle pelted her legs and belly as she brought
herself to a crashing orgasm, her head thudding gently against the rim of the
tub as she convulsed with release.

She saw herself, chained to a post in a marble courtyard by a heavy chrome
chain around her neck. The rain bounced from her taut flesh as she brought
herself off, and dozens of nobles applauded from a covered walkway as she put
on her show for them. In their midst was a large sedan chair, and their liege
sat within it. Marie squinted to see who it was, but could not make out much
more than the occasional gleam of shifting rubber.

Opening her eyes, Marie quickly cleaned herself off and shut off the tap. The
exercise had made her tired again, and she walked back to the bedroom as she
dripped into her towel. Rolling back into bed, she realized with alarm and
exhausted resignation that she was *still* wearing the panties and bra.

Melting back into the covers, she glanced over to the clock to confirm that she
had been in the shower for two hours. But what caught her eye was the small
card, lettered in a firm caligraphic hand.

    Call in sick--you deserve it! Take the day off. Also, there is a package
    waiting for you.

Marie grabbed the card and turned it over, revealing an address::

    Scold's Locksmiths
    Protectors of privacy and property for over 500 years.
    7b Merrywidow Lane

It was the card that Angelica had presented in her dream.

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