Not that there were any marks left showing; Christina was far too expert for that. But every muscle and nerve in Clarissa’s body now seemed to be on fire. Glaring resentfully, her eyes still tearstained, there was nothing the redheaded artist could do but submit, for the great Dane outweighed her by at least five stone, outreached her by several inches, and carried more muscle than a trained light heavyweight boxer. First came the rubber helmet, a close fitting latex hood that left only the eyes and mouth showing, two brass ringed apertures permitting air to enter and exit the nostrils. It laced tightly to hug every contour of Clarissa’s skull, a high tubular opening at the crown allowing her flaming hair to emerge in a gloriously cascading ponytail that was emphasised starkly against the black rubber and even dwarfed the two long, high-pointed pony ears that were attached at either side. The body suit was next, more close-fitting rubber in black, brown and white, giving a dappled effect that was not lost on Clarissa, who also noted that, in addition to the strategically placed rear opening, the suit was cut away at the front to leave her shaven sex mound clearly on display, the added pressure from the stretchy fabric forcing her lower lips to protrude and bulge quite grotesquely.
