Chapter Four: Scold's Locksmiths
================================

:Author: Gospodin 

.. meta::
   :shs-title: The Enslavement of Marie
   :shs-author: Gospodin
   :shs-part: 4
   :shs-keywords: f, latex, mc

Waking early the next morning, Marie mused over her dreams the night
before.  The images and emotions seemed as real to her as they had been
while she dreamt them. Stirring in her black satin sheets, she realized
that she was hopelessly tangled.

"Did I tuck myself in so tightly as this?" she mused, working her way
out of the snug wrapping with great effort, "It's like a coccoon...and I
guess that would make me a butterfly!" Marie finally worked her thighs
out of the worst of it, and stood up, stretching before her closet
mirror.

"Oh no, a black butterfly..." Marie's heart quickened as she realized
she still wore the black rubber underwear, and nothing else. "No wonder
I was so tangled in it! I didn't even put on a nightgown! What is wrong
with me lately?"

Marie sighed and looked down at her dresser, forgetting her attire once
again as she spotted the locksmith's card. Had Angelica really given it
to her, or was that just part of the dream? Marie picked up the card and
ran her hands over the fine calligraphy. Marie had never been to a
locksmith before, as she always had her keys made at the hardware store.

Feeling nervous and more than a little frightened about the whole thing,
Marie picked up the phone to ask Angie if she knew anything about it.
She dressed quickly while it rang, and was idly tying her blouse closed
when Angelica's answering machine kicked in. She left a quick hello and
hung up.

"Well, I suppose I ought to just check out the place, and see if there
are any answers." Marie sighed and threw on an overcoat, stepping out
the door.

In the subway station, Marie realized she was getting a lot of long
stares.  Looking down, she saw that she had not chosen her wardrobe very
wisely. Beneath the open overcoat she wore her old red and green
checkered school girl mini-skirt, which had been barely decent when her
legs were still a few inches shorter. Stacked-heel mary-janes accented
shiny black stockings that ended just at the hem of her skirt, and she
could feel the garter belt's straps beneath the skirt as she
instinctively covered her thighs with her hands.

Finally, she saw that she had put on an old faded white blouse with gold
buttons, which might have been all right if she hadn't popped off the
top two buttons and tied the bottom ends into a knot above her pierced
navel. She saw the glint of the silver ring in a window reflection, and
that made her further aware of the black outline of her rubber
brassiere.

"Whore!" spat out a smartly-dressed old lady across the aisle. She had
muttered it only faintly, but Marie caught her gaze long enough to
realize that the old hag was sizing her up and down.

"Miss Applebee!" Marie gasped, recognizing the governess and manners
instructor from her old boarding school. She was a stickler for posture
and presentation, and Marie noticed for the first time that her
perfectly straight back looked to be the product of some very strict
stays.

The scowl on Applebee's face softened slightly as she squinted to make
out the face on the exhibitionist tart she had just insulted. Marie saw
her stop approaching, and huddled in her coat as she turned away from
the old woman.  Memories of posture exercises and figure training and
dietary plans surfaced with a shudder.

"Maria! What's become of you?" the question followed Marie out of the
train just as the doors slammed shut. Marie felt her face burn, knowing
her ears and cheeks were bright red. Flushed... like an orgasm, she
thought. And yes, her loins were responding to the humiliation, making
her begin to crave another orgasm. She turned quickly to look at the
seat where Applebee sat, and saw only an old lady knitting yarn quietly
in a rapidly departing train.

Casting her eyes down, Marie tried to make sense of the vision as she
walked to Merrywidow Lane. It was an old alleyway, built before trains
and automobiles had entered the city. It still had cobblestones in the
road, and many of the buildings facing it were made of brick and dirty
stone. A single clover-leaf shaped key pointed the way down into the
basement of building 7, leading to Scold's Locksmiths.

Scold was old-fashioned as well, but in a different way from Miss
Applebee. A bushy white moustache made a good effort to compensate for
his balding head, and it hid the corners of his ironic smile. He was
tall and had muscular arms with bare pits. He wore a dark green shirt,
with a dark brown leather apron hanging over his chest and belly,
reaching down to his knees.

Marie shut the wooden-framed glass door, making a keychain hanging from
its knob clink with an ominous steel sound.

"Yes my dear, and how can I help you?" Scold asked, seemingly taking no
notice of Marie's outfit.

"Er... Yes, um, I was given this card, and..."

"--ah yes, and you wish to collect your package. Of course, Marie. One
moment, please." He reached into a bottom drawer and pulled out an
elegant flat gift box, the sort that would hold a fine jeweled necklace.
He set it on the countertop, and Marie realized that it had her name set
into the lid in bronze.  Marie balked.

"You'll find that we personalize everything here, but rest assured that
customer records are kept in the utmost confidence. Your tastes are
exquisite, my dear, but we shall not disclose them to anyone." He ran
his hand over the lid gently as he spoke, and when he finished he set
his mouth in a knowing smile that did not falter.

"Ah.. Er, have we met?" Marie was searching. She had come seeking
answers, but more questions kept presenting themselves.

"No madam, I assure you." Did he just say *madam* with a hint of
sarcasm? "I received a photograph with this order so that I could be
sure to deliver to the correct customer. I must say you make a fine
model, Marie. Your clothing was daring, yet exhillarating, and your pose
was something I'd wager you'll never see most supermodels try!"

Marie swallowed. She saw in his eyes that he meant it. She tried to
think of when she ever posed for a sexy photo, or how her image could
have reached this gentle brute of a locksmith.

"Who gave you this photo?" Marie tried to hide her fear in a tone of
indignant anger.

"My dear, as I have already explained, our customer records are kept in
strict confidence. The order permitted me to let you know of the photo's
existence, but all other information about it is kept locked in a safe
that not even a master locksmith could open without the appropriate key.
The only thing I will give you is this. Please, follow me."

Mr. Scold led Marie into a back part of the shop, opening a heavy black
velvet curtain and revealing a rack along one wall with a collection of
silver, grey and black metal items. The function of most escaped Marie,
but she was certain she recognized several pairs of handcuffs, and the
chains were plain enough.

Scold ushered her to a seat in front of a small magnifying mirror and
set the box before her.

"Now I want to explain this item to you before you try it on." Scold
said as Marie's trembling fingers fumbled with the clasp. A wonderful
rounded matte silver necklace lay on red velvet. The inside lined with
black fur, less than half an inch high. It was forged out of two halves,
hinged together at the front, the open ends hollow on the left and
equpped with a pin on the right side.

Marie tried the hinge between her hands and the pin slid smoothly into
the hole with ease. She moved it in and out a few more times thinking of
the last time she had had smooth sex and felt the rubber fingers against
her clitoris as she squirmed on her stool.

She held it to her throat, and was just about to bring the ends together
when she felt Mr. Scold's heavy hand on the back of her neck.

"Think carefully, my pretty girl, if you really want to do this. The pin
from the clasp is made of a very special material, and it will swell
when it approaches human body temperature. The other end of the clasp
has a series of ringed crevices in the catch, which the pin will swell
into. Your own warmth will seal it onto you, until it becomes cold
again!"

Marie shivered at the thought of her own chilly death unlocking the
clasp, and tested the fit of the choker one half at a time. It fit
perfectly, like it was made for her and her alone. She wondered at how
Scold had aquired her measurements, especially given her unusually long
and thin neck. She knew better than to ask, though, knowing she'd
receive another lecture on customer privacy.

"Also, I would draw your attention to the engraved letters on the front
of the piece." Marie was spellbound by the collar, looking closely in
the mirror.  Letters? What letters? She felt around it, and thought she
could feel an A over the hinge in the front center, but could only make
it out if she looked closely.

Marie sat bolt upright in bed again, moaning as she realized she was
*still* wearing the black latex briefs and bra, the teasing rubber
ticklers turning her moan into a slightly different variety. She gasped
as she saw the collar sealed firmly about her graceful throat. She
rushed to the mirror to get a look at her new permanent jewelry. Now, in
the dim light, she could see the letters more clearly. Left of the A
there were a S and an L, right of it followed an V and an E.

----

`Next Chapter <marie05.html>`__ 


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