Free Thyme II Thyme by Jennifer Jane Pope Page B

appearance.
    'It's almost funnier to leave you like this,' she murmured, running a hand over my smooth pate. 'However, Pottinger has come up with a true masterpiece for you and it would be a terrible shame to waste it. Polly, see to her mouth first, and be quick about it.'
    Now, over a period of many years spread across many centuries, I have endured gags of all shapes, sizes and construction, from simple wads of cloth to sprung pears of polished wood that threaten to dislocate the jaw, but the method that was now employed to deprive me of articulate speech was among the most cunning and has been passed down through the decades, as I will relate to you in another story. Quite simply, this gag was a short, flat piece of polished metal, which was pressed across my tongue and attached to two small clamps that settled over my back teeth. Then, by means of tiny little screws tightened by what we would nowadays call an Allen wrench, the clamps were tightened so there was no chance of me dislodging them with pressure from my tongue. The overall effect left me with the power to make all the sounds I wanted, except that none of them would now sound human. Furthermore, the metal gag also left my mouth available for other things, always supposing that the person availing himself of it did not mind the abrasion of metal on their quite tender flesh.
    Now satisfied that I could no longer protest my humanity, Meg produced the pièce de résistance of which she had spoken. Although my eyes widened with horror as she held it up for me to see, I could not but admire the ingenuity and craftsmanship that had gone into its creation. Basically the same as the hood mask I had been wearing before, it differed in two areas only, but those differences made all the difference, as it were. The front of the mask had apertures for the eyes, but from that point downwards it had been shaped into the form of a pug-like snout complete with a black nose and an opening beneath it that led to my mouth, although the integral stuffing meant that the dog mouth was an inch or two ahead of my own. On either side of the hood had been sewn two large and floppy brown ears I could see would loll with every movement of my head. Furthermore, without the handicap of my hair, the whole mask could now be laced tightly to my features, so that it would sit snugly and immovably about my head, a head that would now not look out of place on any canine bitch.
    The hood was quickly fitted to me, the back lacing extending down the collar beyond the nape of my neck, and then the remaining lacing of the bodysuit was continued so it covered even that. Finally, a bright red leather collar, beset with gleaming metal studs, was locked about my neck to both protect the lace knots from interference and to ensure that my neck remained stiff and straight.
    'Marvellous!' Meg exclaimed, clapping her hands with delight. 'I only wish we had brought a mirror so you might see yourself, but never mind, for there are mirrors enough in the house and I intend that you shall indeed see what a wonderful prize I have created for the master's pleasure!'
     
     
    3.
     
    'She turned you into a fucking dog?' Anne-Marie looked horrified, but again I could see the undercurrent of excitement in her eyes.
    I put down my cup and regarded my new friend and lover sombrely wondering if she was secretly wishing it had been her, my usually so dominant lesbian, in that awful animal disguise. My Anne-Marie... was she a closet submissive who could not bring herself to admit to it? Idly, I resolved to test that possibility at a more appropriate time. 'Indeed, she did,' I replied, reaching for another cigarette. 'And she added ankle cuffs and chains up to the front of my collar to make sure I couldn't stand upright if I was ever left alone.'
    'And what about your new name?' Andrea chimed in. 'Did she remember about that? Did she come up with one?'
    'Oh, yes,' I said, smiling awkwardly. 'She remembered, all