Rubbermaid

She had fallen asleep, lost herself in dreams and then woken not to the sound of an alarm or someone hammering on the door, but to the gentle sound of the water lapping away in the far end of the cave.

Tamara had lived her entire life in the city and spent every waking moment experiencing the noise, clamour and speed of modern life on a daily basis. She had never questioned the pace at which things happened around her and she had simply swum with the tide and accepted that there was no time to waste not making headway in the world. Her life had been little more than a sliver of personal space squeezed in between obligations and expectations placed upon her by others and even by herself.

Perhaps it was the radical change in the pace of her existence that had altered her perception of her abduction and transformation into a rubber mermaid. She was aware on a basic level that she had been drugged, kidnapped and placed in a position of almost total subjugation, but for some perhaps perverted reason she had seized on the fact that she was free from the chaos of her normal life and felt liberated by the experience.

Maybe she secretly revelled in the fact that this had removed all of the pretence from her relationship with those who wanted something from her. There had always been an element of the act of negotiating terms that made Tamara weary, a feeling that on some level it was all false and simply for show. If she was honest, a part of her would have been far more at ease with the idea of being able to pick and choose who she performed for on the merit she saw in them and what they could offer her in return.

Was not this a similar situation?

Strange as it was, no one had seriously harmed her or forced themselves on her.

Tamara ignored the part of her mind that suggested that the forcing might come later.

No, she was not being forced to do anything beyond sit around a cave and pretend to be a mermaid and compared to some of the paying customers and their requests she had dealt with in the past this was a free spa holiday.

The rumble of her stomach pulled her away from that line of thought and Tamara realised that her hunger had been stirred by the scent of food nearby.

Pulling herself through the cushions to the edge of the clam shell, she saw that a tray had been deposited next to what she supposed was her bed while she slept. Standing on legs that brought it level with her curious eyes, the tray held a number of covered platters that Tamara wasted no time in uncovering to reveal the contents beneath.

The first platter made her eyes widen as she saw that it contained a whole lobster, the second a selection of crabs and muscles. Tamara uncovered a third and found a plate of smoked fish; salmon and mackerel all she recognised alongside a half dozen more that she had never seen before. The last platter held what she took to be a selection of sushi arranged artfully around small, but nevertheless whole fish.

Tamara glanced over the assembled food before she committed to eat anything.

She had always been very fond of seafood, but the mysterious appearance of the meal was confirmation that there was a hidden way in and out of the cave. Someone had entered while she slept and left without any other trace than the tray, or so it seemed.

Tamara scanned the room and saw that she had been wrong, the tray was not all that had been left behind.

A few feet from the clam shell stood what looked like a set of wooden steps, painted aquamarine blue and reaching perhaps three feet off the ground. Tamara had a suspicion that she had seen something similar before, but she felt another protest of hunger and decided that the steps could wait.

The same perverse sense of defiance and showmanship took over as she decided that her anonymous watcher wanted his mermaid to play the part and eat the banquet he had provided. She thought that he should count himself lucky she was quite adept at making the simple act of eating a spectacle worth watching as closely as any dance she could have performed.

Tamara curled her tail beneath herself and leaned over the platters of seafood, inhaled the scent, which she had to admit was wonderful, and started on the smoked fish. She dangled strips and ate them as though this was the fare she was accustomed to and anything that did not swim in the sea would have been alien to her. Every mouthful she savoured and allowed her face to reflect the pleasure she was experiencing, not a hard act to sell as the fish was wonderful and she relished every morsel that she ate.

She played more with the sushi, guessing that it had been added to her meal as a quirky choice rather than a mainstay, but the grand performance was to be the lobster itself. Tamara twisted the claws off with a practised hand and broke them open with the nutcracker provided. She practically sucked the meat out of the claws, surprising herself with the speed she was able to do so. Next she twisted the tail off and picked at the meat more sparingly, saving her appetite in order to prolong the performance. She finally tore the belly of the lobster open and daintily picked a few choice morsels from within before turning her attention to the whole fish that had been surrounded by sushi.

Tamara had no intention of eating the entire fish, the thought was off putting and out of the question. But the devil was in her now and she was determined to end the performance with something memorable that would seal her portrayal of a creature that was both alluring and possessed of insatiable appetites.

She plucked one of the fish from the platter and deliberately distancing herself from what she was about to do, slipped it between her lips. Tamara slid the fish back and forth, making the act as suggestive as she was able and trying to express the fact that she was satiated as far as her hunger was concerned, but there were other desires that food would just not satisfy.

The fish had made perhaps half a dozen processions in and out of Tamara's mouth when she slightly misjudged the movement on the way in. The fish made contact with a point in her throat that would normally have triggered her gag reflex, but instead it rubbed against the curious device that had been secreted in her gullet during her transformation into a mermaid. Rather than allowing her muscles to go into spasm, the device caused them to contract sharply and pull the fish down her throat in a mere three seconds of shocked motion.

Tamara felt the whole fish make its way down her throat and into her stomach with a mixture of shock and amazement. Somehow her gag reflex had been replaced with the mother of all sucking reflexes and she was stunned as she tried to fathom why.

But then she glanced back at the set of steps and suddenly she recalled where she had seen something similar in the past. Was it not very similar to the things that trained seals pulled themselves up on to sound horns and wave to an audience?

The two elements came together in Tamara's mind in a realisation that shocked her for a moment and then began to stimulate the more cruel and playful part of her personality. It was clear to her now that her captor wanted to have the blow job of his life and he wanted to have it given to him by a rubber mermaid who was capable of sucking the rivets off a ships hull as well.

Perhaps the proposition was not all that bad from her side of things, but Tamara was willing to bet that her gentle treatment so far was a guarantee that her captor intended to wait until his mermaid was ready and willing.

And if there was one thing that she was good at, it was making those that wanted her wait at arms length while she reminded them of just what they wanted and why.

It was true to say that Tamara had lost track of time, but the fact that she was at the beck and call of no one and solely concerned with playing the part of a rubber mermaid absorbed her completely.

She spent uncounted hours in the cave performing the actions that she supposed a mermaid would fill her days with.

She preened herself as best she was able with what she had to hand, using the surface of the water for a makeshift mirror. When she next awoke she found a basket of brushes, combs and ornaments to aid her with the task.

She overcame her trepidation and explored the pit and its water, finding that below was a chamber perhaps three times the size of the cave, but with no discernible exit. Emboldened by her new found purpose, Tamara adapted well to swimming with her tail, actually aided by the fact that she was a poor swimmer with her own legs. Forced to adapt, she quickly learned to make the best use of the powerful limb and felt graceful as she made use of it. When she clambered out of the pit, she found towels and hot, mulled wine waiting for her.

Once when she settled down in her clam shell to sleep, she discovered something hidden amongst the cushions. Her hands retrieved a sleek and expensive vibrator from where it had been secreted and Tamara could not help but let out an almost shocked laugh at the sight of the thing.

But she was in a state of satisfied happiness and more than willing to play along with the less than subtle hint.

Accompanied by the low hum of the toy, Tamara burned away the last of her energy and made this a more sedate show than her audience was used to. She built slowly and surely, teasing at first before inching ever closer and closer until she was as desperate for the conclusion as anyone who might have been watching her. Finally her back arched and her tail curled with her climax and she flopped into the cushions, every last ounce of her energy spent.

Before she sank totally out of sight, she gazed into the distance and beckoned with one finger in a gesture that she hoped would be understood.

I'm ready, she spoke through the gesture, come and get me.

When she awoke, Tamara sensed that for the first time she was not alone in the room and the revelation sent a shiver of trepidation and excitement down the length of her spine.

She sat up from amongst the cushions and smiled as she laid eyes upon the figure standing silent in the middle of the cave. The figure was clad from head to foot in a black body stocking that clung to his blatantly male form, revealing every detail save for his identity. The man in black made no sound or any move, but simply faced Tamara with his arms crossed over his chest.

The silent type, she had come across this before and Tamara had always found that the best approach was to do the vast majority of the work herself and simply allow such a supposedly impassive front crack as it inevitably would. She was sure that no matter how much the man in black might have believed in the stance he was taking, this was a scenario that he had constructed, a dramatic scene he had created. Tamara was sure that this was what he wanted and there was no way he could do anything but be drawn into her performance for the simple reason that he was bringing to life his own fantasy with her playing the lead role.

Tamara swung her tail over the end of the clam shell and stretched as if shaking off the last remnants of sleep and then began to make a grand tour of her body. She pulled her hair back and traced a line down from her neck to her breasts with her webbed hands where she caressed their mass beneath her palms. Twisting the nipple caps, she allowed the sensations of pleasure to manifest as flicks of her tailfin, all the time building her own feelings of stimulation and desire. She braced her hands against her corset, breathing as though it were too tight and threatening to make her swoon before moving down to where her tail began, stroking the rubbery scales and smiling to herself as if aware of a devious secret.

She leaned back into the clam shell on her elbows, raising her tail as she reclined and flipping her fins all the time. Tamara teased the man in black with the length of her tail, fanning the silver fin before him as she might normally have coaxed a man with her naked legs.

Then she slipped forwards and out of the clam shell, onto the floor of the cave. The fall was no more than a few feet and she knew from experience that the material of the tail would cushion her from the impact.

Once on the floor of the cave, Tamara pulled herself towards the steps, watching as the man in black made his own way towards them from the opposite side. She hauled herself up each step like a seal until she came to rest, propped up on her elbows with her head in the perfect position for the task at hand.

Tamara glanced up at the man in black with a wicked look in her eye at the same time as her hands cupped his groin. She had his attention as attested by the fact that he was not only looking down at her, but his member had certainly responded to her efforts even before she had it in the palm of her hand.

It was true to say that for her own part, Tamara was swept up in the experience with no hope of doing anything but seeing it through to the end. She felt almost subsumed beneath the identity of the rubber mermaid that she had spent time and effort creating, for some reason proud and filled with purpose to have been chosen as this man's plaything above anyone else.

She was determined to make this the best performance of her life.

Her hands found an opening to the crotch of the body stocking and she slipped her fingers inside, deftly pulling his member out of its hiding place. When it emerged, she saw that it was sheathed in some kind of black latex that resembled a condom, but did not end at the base. Instead it continued inside the stocking and ended she knew not where. Not that it mattered, the sheath obviously served the same purpose as a contraceptive and she simply forged ahead with that in mind.

The man in black was quite aroused, but Tamara was a good judge of such things and was sure there was room for more. She stroked and teased the shaft, pressing it between her breasts and bringing it tantalisingly close to her lips until the size had grown to her liking.

Only then did she close her lips around the head and gently ease the length of his penis into her mouth. Tamara had done this many times before, but she tried to make this something more, something memorable and truly special. As the tip reached the point in her throat where the device had been implanted, she felt the muscles contract as she pulled at him with unnatural strength.

He felt it too as his body stiffened and a hand clamped onto her shoulder. Tamara felt the man in black's free hand reach down and stroke her breasts, stimulating the nipple caps and further arousing her body beneath him.

Suddenly he tensed and Tamara realised that she had brought him to his limit.

No, she thought as she released his penis and pulled herself upwards as far as she was able, this is not enough.

The man in black had taken a step backwards, reeling slightly from the release. But then he regarded her with a look of interest and stepped forwards again.

Tamara lowered herself from the steps and crouched on the floor of the cave, her backside raised and a look of urging that bordered on the desperate on her face. He perceived her meaning and made to crouch down over her, but she shook her head and pointed to the clam shell.

The man in black needed no further cue and he scooped her up off the floor of the cave, carrying her to the clam shell and dropping her gently onto the cushions. Tamara almost burst with the pleasure she felt as she was carried and caressed, the experience of being treated as a creature of pure and simple pleasure liberating her in a bizarre and unexpected way.

He climbed into the shell with her and rather than simply turning her over there and then, not that Tamara would have stopped him, the man in black turned his attention to his mermaid's body with an eye for detail. He explored her, stroking and stimulating as if determined to know every inch of her flesh and at the same time building her desire with every touch.

Finally he allowed her to roll onto her stomach and mounted her, the relief that Tamara felt as his weight pressed gently down on her tail almost slipped out as an audible moan. She felt everything from the first brush of his penis against the lips of the entrance at the back of her tail, the sensation of him moving through the tight passage to her vagina and the final feeling of him entering her own body.

The experience of entry forced her to climax right there and then, but moments later she was pushed even further as he continued to move inside her. Now she did cry out, trapped in the form of a rubber mermaid and forced to experience every sensation her body was alight with feeling and intense pleasure. Tamara wanted to move so badly that it almost hurt, but instead she simply writhed her tail and desperately beat her fins, her webbed hands almost clawing at her capped nipples.

In that moment she would not have recognised Tamara Dumas; she was with every fibre of her being a rubber mermaid who wanted nothing more than to be played with and pleasured as long as she was able. That was all she was, all she had ever been and all she wanted to be. Had she been offered the choice there and then she would have given up everything to stay in her cave, sleep in her shell and swim in her pool...and be his plaything.

When she finally climaxed for the last time the experience was too much for her and she fell into the cushions, exhausted and gripped by sleep.

Her dreams were those of a rubber mermaid and the woman known as Tamara Dumas was a fictional character in a story she vaguely recalled and did not properly remember.

Tamara woke with a feeling of deep satisfaction filling her and recalled the time she had spent before falling asleep with a smile. Alone and able to indulge, she slipped one hand down to her breasts and another to the back of her tail to relive a small portion of her pleasure on her own.

It was only when her naked fingers found her uncovered nipple and the same digits felt the skin of her buttocks that Tamara came fully awake and realised that she was laying in her own bed.

The harder realisation was that her legs were back and she was Tamara Dumas once more.

She sat up and glanced around the suddenly familiar surroundings of her small apartment and knew that she should have been feeling the deepest sensation of relief and liberation in her entire life.

So why did she feel vulnerable, rejected and sad?

She was free, in control and able to go where she wanted to do what she wanted.

So why did she miss a cave, a clam shell and a ridiculous rubber tail?

Tamara fell back into the bedclothes and sank under the inescapable feeling that no matter how free and liberated she was, she would never be needed, desired and worshipped as much as she had been by a person who took those things away from her for a time.

Was it really too much to ask?

Would she have ever regretted gaining all that for the price of her legs and her liberty?

The man in black sipped his drink as he turned over a small object made of rubber in his other hand. Closer scrutiny revealed it to be made in the shape of a shell, the twin of a second which lay on a low table in front of him.

Not for the first time he compared himself to some kind of vampire; a creature that needed to feed on the life force of another sentient being in order to survive.

It would be a while before he needed to, if you like, feed again.

The last one had surpassed his expectations and he had been ambivalent for some time as to the issue of whether he released her or he did not.

So far he had always chosen the former, but he suspected that the day would come when he did the latter instead.

The rest of the costume was stored away in a very safe place should the desire for another encounter with such a creature arise.