Rubbermaid

The woman who had been wheeled into the room and stripped of her clothing was visibly still the same one that lay on the table, but the effects of the costume she had been sealed into were obvious and striking.

Tamara had been turned into a creature of smooth and shiny rubber, a mermaid that was intended to do with her tail and exposed breasts what the woman had done with her provocative dancing only hours before. But now there was no way she could twist and gyrate around a pole, Tamara was no longer physically capable of doing that.

Whatever reason there might have been for the transformation that had been wrought on her body, it seemed to matter not one iota to the men in the hazmat suits as they returned to the room and set to the task of lifting the torpid mermaid from the operating table and back onto the gurney.

As always they remained silent as they wheeled her out of the theatre and into the deeper depths of the ships hull.

Tamara opened her eyes and let out a groan that was far from seductive, but had become the first noise that tended to emanate from her the morning after a heavy night of indulgence and was now a habit that was hard to break.

For a few blissful moments her mind was fogged by the lingering effects of the anaesthetic she had been under for literally hours.

But the state of drug induced ignorance was quick to fade as the rush of realisation hit her and she recalled the bar, the man in the suit and the assault that he had committed with no hint of regret or trepidation.

Tamara needed no clues to tell her that she had been drugged and abducted from the bar where the meeting had taken place. In her line of work there was always a degree of personal danger to be feared and she had harboured a deeply buried paranoia that this kind of thing would happen to her one day.

She cursed herself for letting her guard down that one time ending up locked away in the private dungeon of some sadistic pervert, hidden from the outside world and subject to the whims of a sick mind.

Afraid of the worst, Tamara was surprised to find that her hands were not bound when she tried to move them. Something had been done to them, but she was not sure what and for the moment did not let that concern her. She had realised when she first tried to move that her legs had been restrained in some way, but if her kidnapper was stupid enough to leave her hands free then she might have a chance of using their error to escape.

Tamara sat up stiffly and rubbed her eyes as the glare of the lighting in the room made her squint and shy away while she became accustomed.

It was the sensation of a smooth, almost rubbery material against the skin of her face that made her force her eyes open and stare at her hands. Seeing them clearly for the first time, Tamara gaped at the sight of the shiny black gloves that covered them and every inch of her arms that she could see. She turned them over with a blend of shock and amazement, the webbing of the fingers almost escaping her attention at first and then raising her feelings as the strangeness of the things began to sink in.

Tamara slid her hands over the length of the gloves and reached the point where they ended; whereupon she made an attempt to slip her fingers beneath them.

She was rewarded for her efforts with a sharp pain that made her yelp despite herself, the feeling of trying to pull the material of the gloves away from her own skin as painful as that same natural part of her body being pulled away instead.

After the pain, Tamara turned her attention away from removing the gloves and instead flexed her hands, testing the sensations that were possible through the material. There was no denying the fact that she was able to experience quite delicate tactile sensations through the material and in reality the webbing between her fingers did far less than she expected to lessen the dexterity of her digits.

Tamara decided that aside from the unnerving experience of having a pair of gloves glued to her skin, there was nothing that would stop her making good her intention to release her legs and make a break for freedom.

It was only when she parted her hands to gaze down at the rest of her body that the pit of her stomach seemed to fall away and the true gravity of her situation hit her without a hint of warning.

Tamara had been there and done that as far as bondage and restraints were concerned, earned her wings with almost any kind of device and contraption that was out there in the course of her career.

But this was something new; something that left her speechless.

The first part of the tail that Tamara glimpsed was the silver, ribbed fin that extended from the end. Truly taken aback by the sight, her reflexes made her legs jump and the movement was translated into the motion of the fin flicking upwards and then down onto the ground where it made a surprisingly loud sound that filled the air like the crack of a whip.

Tamara's eyes followed the line of the tail upwards to where the shiny black of the largest part began. She noted the scales lined with silver and the shape, beneath which the shape of her legs was at once visible and yet indistinct, as though she were looking at the body of another person entirely. By the time she had reached the point where the tail disappeared beneath the stiff ribbed corset, she was in something of a daze, fascinated by the body of the rubber mermaid that she was taking in and far away from the realisation that she was the one sealed into the costume.

Finally her eyes came to rest on the sight of her own breasts above the line of the corset and she almost laughed out loud at the shells that covered the nipples. Still not grounded in the reality of her predicament, Tamara cupped one of the breasts in a webbed hand and began to inspect the nipple cap with a distant interest.

The pressure of her fingers on the rubbery surface of the shell activated the tiny mechanism inside and Tamara cried out in shock as the sensation of her nipple being clamped shot through her body. All at once she was experiencing pain and a wave of sudden physical excitement that reached all the way to her groin and made her rubber-clad body arch in shocked reaction.

After a few minutes the sensation had subsided enough for Tamara to be able to think clearly for what felt to her like the first time in ages. She was no stranger to nipple-clamps and on more than one occasion she had donned a mermaid tail to roll around in the surf or lounge around by a pool when a director wanted something a bit more exotic before she flaunted herself for their vision.

But this was something that was way out of her league and she was the first to admit that fact.

Tamara had tried to pull the tail and the corset away from her body, but the result was just the same as with the gloves and she had given up on the idea when the pain became too much to bear.

Convinced that she was effectively trapped inside the costume, a rubber mermaid until she managed to find a way to remove it, she had next tried to stand up and get a feel for the place that she was being held in. Glancing around from where she had regained consciousness, Tamara thought she was lying on rock of some kind and at the bottom of a small pit as walls of the same stuff rose around her. Overhead she could see what looked like reflected light, dancing and darting amongst stalactites with the suggestion of the sound of water in the background. The accumulated signs seemed to suggest that she was in some kind of damp cave; not that she intended to stay there for a moment longer than she could manage.

When Tamara tried to pull herself up and onto her feet, she was treated to another unexpected surprise as she managed to make it almost to a crouch before her lower body simply flopped and collapsed beneath her. She landed in a pile of shiny rubber and naked flesh, the breath half knocked out of her and a shocked expression on her face.

Terrified that she had been paralysed, that it was a part of whatever twisted scheme she had been made a part of, she carefully experimented with just what her rubber-clad legs were capable of. She was almost physically relieved to find that she was quite able to move her lower body as much as the restricting tail would allow and almost as much as she could have done had her legs been free. But no matter how she tried, there seemed no way in which she was able to make her lower body function in the same way as it had before she had been sealed in the tail.

Tamara had no way of knowing, but the length of the rubber tail had been impregnated with a network of intricate electrical contacts that reacted to the impulses of the muscles in her legs. Any attempt that she made to move would be detected by the devices in the tail and the network would fire in response to disable the electrical signals that would normally have allowed her to move her legs. In effect, the tail had been designed to force her in every possible way to effect the behaviour of a creature without legs and instead to move only in a manner that her new form allowed.

Ignorant of the nature of her impediment, Tamara was forced to discover the limits that the tail imposed on her through trial and error. Soon she had begun to resort to dragging herself upright and pulling her body forwards with the strength of her arms, the length of her tail following behind like a seal crossing a beach.

It escaped her notice, but Tamara adapted to the gait of a land-bound mermaid with no lack of speed. The movements of her body began to become more and more fluid and seem more and more natural as she tried to make her way out of the shallow hole in which she had woken.

By the time she concluded that she was strong enough to haul herself out of the hole and pull her tail up behind her, Tamara was sitting with the fins of the rubber garment folded beneath her and beating gently in an unconscious motion. Any casual observer might have thought she was becoming more and more at ease with the idea that she was a rubber mermaid as time went by.

Hauling herself up and over the edge of the pit was a task that took an alarming amount of effort and exertion, which seemed amazing when Tamara looked back over her shoulder to see that the end of her tail almost reached the bottom as her torso flopped onto the floor of the cave above.

And a cave she could now see it was.

Tamara pulled herself the rest of the way out of the pit and inched her tail up after her until she was able to roll back onto her buttocks and take account of herself and her surroundings.

She found that she was sitting on the floor of what looked like small chamber, perhaps fifteen or twenty feet in its irregular diameter. There was no visible exit save for a hole in the floor of the cave that might have been the twin of the one she had clambered out of a few feet from where she sat. The only thing that marked this hole as different was the fact that the diffuse light that Tamara had seen from the bottom of the first hole was clearly emanating from the second.

Tamara might have been a city girl to the core, but there was no mistaking the fact that the water she had suspected lay somewhere around was actually located down that hole. Her spirits rose slightly at the realisation that this discovery might contain a chance of escape.

But they fell as quickly when she recalled the fact that she was at best an average swimmer. The thought of a tunnel the length of which she could not guess and a period of time that she would be forced to hold her breath caused a twist of fear in Tamara's stomach.

For the moment she forgot about the possibility of escape by that means and instead returned to the task of taking stock of her surroundings.

Tamara gazed up at the stalactites that covered the ceiling of the cave and then back down at the point where the reflected light emerged from the second hole. Something was not quite right to her eye when she considered the amount of light that seemed to fill the cave and the size of the hole. She rolled into what would have been a crouch for anyone not currently forced into the form of a mermaid, resting on her knees and calves a she scrutinized the light and shade in the cave around her.

Then it hit her, there was far too much light for it all to be coming from the reflections on the water in the hole. She realised once that was clear that in addition, most of the light did not move and dance like the reflected light as well. Though she could not be sure, there was something that made her think of an artificial light source hidden amongst the stalactites.

And if there was artificial light, what else might be man made about the cave?

As Tamara completed her survey of the chamber, she had to admit that right there and then the prime candidate was the large clamshell that sat atop a low shelf of rock at the back of the cave. She was sure they never grew that massive in nature and she was also sure they were never filled with cushions and pillows either.

By now her natural paranoia was becoming ever surer of the idea that she was being watched by some hidden means, but in the end it lost out to Tamara's desire for comfort and she began to crawl across the floor towards the shell. There may have been an entire army of murderous perverts watching her and for all she cared they could go to hell. Tamara was not about to sit on a cold stone floor, feeling her backside go numb when there was a pile of cushions staring her in the face.

Tamara surprised herself with the speed that she managed to cross the floor of the cave and clambered into the awaiting shell with far less trouble than the climb out of the hole had caused her. She flopped onto the silk and satin cushions and did her best to burrow into them so that she was hidden from view, thinking that she could at least give a figurative show of defiance to whoever had dropped her into this predicament.

Though being hidden beneath a layer of cushions meant that Tamara was effectively as blind to see herself as anyone trying to watch her, she had the advantage of still being able to sense and feel her own body.

And succumbing to curiosity, that was just what she did.

Years in the more physical end of the entertainment industry had left Tamara with a quite frank and straight forward attitude to her body and she prided herself on knowing every inch of it like an old friend. But now she had found that old friend replaced by a stranger who she was still struggling to come to terms with. Determined to reassert her feelings of being in control of her own body, Tamara began to explore the length and width of her mermaids tail.

She had always been of the firm opinion that no one would be willing to believe that she was worth their attention, that she would arouse their desire to touch her if she were not the person most willing to touch herself.

Tamara's hands roamed over her body, their webbed fingers pressing and caressing her as they had so many time before as she performed. Now they explored the feel of her breasts as they sat bared above her corset and barely stroked the nipple caps before she was again awash with sexual pleasure from their tightening on her buried nipples beneath. She stroked her stomach as the muscles under the corset moved in a motion that seemed as seductive for a mermaid as any woman.

There was a moment of genuine disappointment when her webbed palms pressed down on the portion of her tail where she estimated that her vagina was buried. Tamara could get no reaction regardless of how hard she tried, a fact left her disheartened for a moment to be deprived of the ability to pleasure herself, something she had always seen as her own private privilege.

Dwelling on more practical matters led her hands to circle around and begin to caress her own buttocks. Whoever had designed her tail was someone who appreciated the qualities of a woman from behind was well as in front. Her buttocks could be felt and she was sure seen through the material of the tail, a realisation that restored some of her positive feelings as Tamara knew herself to be perfectly able to use that part of her body like a hypnotic charm.

It was while she was allowing herself to dwell upon the buttocks and the power they represented that her fingers happened upon the opening in the tail at the base of her backside. Surprised at first, Tamara probed the vertical opening gently and then slipped two fingers inside when it yielded to her attentions.

Thinking at first that it was nothing more than a convenience for the call of nature and lost in speculation as to how that would all work, Tamara's fingers wandered deeper into the hole until she was shocked out of her reverie by another burst of sexual stimulation. She pulled her hand out as the length of her tail lit up with feeling like a monumental g-spot, her fins flapping and sending cushions and pillows flying out of the shell around her.

Tamara regained her composure and slipped a more careful finger back into the hole, where she tested her theory with aching slowness at first. She was rewarded with a sensation that built in intensity this time as her practised hand played instinctively to confirm the fact that a passage to her vagina had been built into the material that sat between her legs within the tail. But this was not some mundane rubber tube, it had been made as sensitive as her own flesh and as warm and soft as the entrance to her intimate parts.

Somehow she knew that fluids from her own body would interact with this man made passage well enough to make penetration a simple matter. Tamara realised that she was not intended simply for show; someone had designed this rubber mermaid to have all the working parts.

But there was more, she thought as she brought herself to an satisfying climax. The point of access in her tail was more than just a hole through which she could be fucked. Care had been taken to ensure that she could gain pleasure from the experience as well. It was an aspect of the odd situation that she found herself in that pulled Tamara in different directions, making her think on the one hand that she was being prepared for a humiliating spectacle and at the same time arousing her curiosity as to the possibilities of her new body and the promise of experiencing them.

In the end the part of her that loved to put on a show won out for the moment and she decided on impulse to show whoever might be watching just what they had on their hands.

Tamara was no stranger to performing on her knees and she turned onto her belly before rising up from amongst the cushions, hands behind her head and launching into an improvised routine that showed why she commanded such a price back in the real world. Part of the performance was intended as an act of defiance and part to confirm to herself just what Tamara the rubber mermaid was capable of. As she moved, she became more and more confident in the motions of her breasts, tail and fin, making them answer her every whim and command.

Only when she had exhausted herself did she slip back down amongst the cushions and fall into a deep sleep.

Tamara dreamed of deep seas, crashing waves and found herself lost in their heart.

She woke in a momentary state of confusion, buried amongst the cushions and puzzled as to why her legs were unwilling to do as she told them. But the disorientation passed quickly and she was once again aware of the predicament that she was in.

There was no way to tell how long she had slept; it might have been minutes or days.

Tamara supposed that she should have been filled with a sense of anger and resentment, hurling abuse at whoever was watching her and trying to find any means of escape that she could.

But instead she found that there was an odd sense of what could have been described as stillness, peace or even, dare she say it: happiness.