Chapter 297.

Fifteen minutes later they left the office and went in search of the others.  Thomasina was excited.  She has a new outfit, the offer of many more, and she had been offered and accepted the modelling job.  As she walked, the latex dil-do flexed inside her, sending little ripples of pleasure through her body, and making her smile at the thought that it was exactly how Ponyboy’s one would feel.  They found them at the end of the third aisle, where there was also a full-length mirror.  Each of them was holding a Fantastex carrier-bag.
“Thommie!  That’s amazing!  Cream!  Somehow it’s even more sexy than the pink one!  Look at yourself!”
Thomasina stood in front of the mirror.  Caroline was right.  Cream was more sexy.  It was the tension between the innocence of the colour and the sexiness of the fit.  The colour rose in her cheeks.  She imagined what she might feel like mounted on Crumble.  She drew in a tremulous breath.
“Are you going to wear it home?”
“Why not?  It’ll be a change from the pink one.”
“Miss Laidlaw – I mean Emily -  is going to give us a lift, so you won’t have to endure that bus-ride again.  And she bought me a present.”
“Why don’t you go to the changing-room and put it on, Caroline?  I’m sure Thomasina would like to see it.”
“I will!  Wait here, everyone!”

Miss Laidlaw winked at Cynthia.  “I bought myself one too.  But I’ll be back for more.  Your stock is irresistible.”
“I’m glad it interests you, Emily.  I hope Daphne gave you a discount.”
“She did.”
“She’s knows my mind better than anyone.  If there’s anything specific, call me or call in, won’t you?”
In two minutes Caroline was back.  Her riding breeches had been replaced by a cute little red mini-skirt.
“It’s so cool!  Thank you, Emily!  I’ll wear it to your party if that’s all right.”
“I asked Caroline as well, Thomasina.  With both of you there I know we’re going to have fun!”

Chapter295.

They made their way to the canteen to eat their lunches.  Miss Laidlaw opened the door for the girls, and Thomasina preceded her friend.  Caroline grabbed her arm.
“Dunno what you’ve been up to…  Well, I think I can guess…  But your bum’s a mess.  You should go and get cleaned up.”
After she’d returned from the toilet, the girls had their sandwiches, and Miss Laidlaw got herself a salad and bought the drinks.  Then they walked to the car park and got into Miss Lailaw’s car.
“You came here by bus, then?” she asked.
“Yes,” replied Caroline, with a grin.  “Thomasina made the most of it, didn’t you, Thommie?  Showing off to all the passengers…”
“Thanks to you,” said Thomasina, sulkily. 

They drove into the retail park, and Miss Laidlaw parked in front of Fantastex .
“Colourful frontage.  Can’t miss it, really.  Let’s go and see what they’ve got.  How exciting!”
Cynthia was at the front of the shop talking to Daphne.
“Thomasina!  Nice to see you again.  In your catsuit, too!”
“Hi Cynthia.  You too.  These are my friends Caroline, and Emily Laidlaw, one of our instructors.”
“Welcome, all of you.  Let me show you around.  Thomasina, I’m so flattered you’re still wearing it.  Our first meeting was so brief, and I was worrying my measuring had been rather hurried.”
“As you can see, it was faultless…”
Cynthia waved a hand towards the aisles stretching away to the end of the shop, lined with gleaming latex.  “Our little emporium…”
“Wow!  There’s so much stuff,” exclaimed Caroline, open-mouthed.  “Come on, Thommie – I can’t wait to see your next outfit!”
Thomasina herself stared at the rows of clothes, heart fluttering.  Miss Laidlaw took her gently by the arm, and together they followed Cynthia through the forest of fashions.
“As you can see,” began Cynthia, leading them into the left-hand aisle, “we have clothes for every occasion.  But this section is solely ladies’ equestrian kit.  We have figure-hugging tops, cute little riding jackets – these are very popular.  We make them short, with elasticated waists, so when they’re zipped up they give maximum freedom but don’t get in the way.  And they look so pretty you can wear them for clubbing, parties, whatever.  Then there are breeches.  As you can see, quite a selection of colours.
“Excuse me, Miss Cynthia,” piped up Caroline.  “These ones aren’t latex, are they?”
She was pointing at a rack of what looked like standard riding breeches, in cream or blue.
“But they are, Caroline.”  She picked up a pair and showed her inside.  “Inside you can see how glossy they are.”
“So they’re latex inside and fabric outside?”
“No.  We do those as well, but at our factory we’ve developed a process for texturing the outside so it looks just like ordinary stretch fabric.  Most people can’t tell the difference.”
“You should get some of those, Thommie,” laughed Caroline.   â€œThen you could enjoy the feel of latex without anyone knowing!”
Cynthia turned to her.  “Oh, Thomasina.  Is that right?  Have you enjoyed wearing your catsuit?  Perhaps you have, as you still are.  Actually I was a little doubtful when Violet told me the plan.  I hope it wasn’t too much of a shock…”
“Shock?” laughed Caroline.  “No, she loves it – and all the attention too, don’t you, Thommie?”
Thomasina blushed.  “Stop it, Caroline…”
“No, I won’t!  Tell her the truth.  Go on.  Tell her how horny it makes you…”
“Caroline!  No!  Miss Laidlaw…”
“Don’t mind me,” said Miss Laidlaw, with a smile, partly of surprise, partly of interest.
Cynthia held up a hand.  “Caroline, enough.  Thomasina, we can talk privately later.  Whatever you feel about wearing latex is fine.  It leaves some quite unmoved.  That’s their loss.  Others love everything about it.  Obviously that’s something I can empathise with.  For now let’s just continue the tour, shall we?”

Thomasina glared at her friend, but Caroline ignored it.  Miss Laidlaw gave Thomasina a quick, reassuring rub on her back.  Thomasina looked at her apologetically, and received a sympathetic smile in return.  Cynthia moved on.  At the end of the aisle, opposite her office, was a long rack of latex catsuits.
“Finally here we have equestrian catsuits.  The main selection of everyday catsuits is in the third aisle, with tops and outerwear, and the second is dedicated mainly to things like skirts, shorts, leggings and stockings.  But these equestrian catsuits - like the one you’re wearing, Thomasina - are generally made from slightly heavier duty, tear-resistant latex.  There’s yours – bright pink – but we also have black, blue and cream in stock, and we can make them in any other colour or style you want.”
Miss Laidlaw had spotted a small section on the end wall, entitled “Invaders”.
“What are these ones, Cynthia?  Invaders?”  She peered closely at one.  “Oh.  No crotch zips.  Why is that?”
“Ah…those.  Yes, well, they’re, er, custom models.”  She quickly changed the subject.  “Thomasina?  I need to have a word with you.  We need to discuss your immediate needs – I have a few things for you if you’re interested – and also your mother may have mentioned about you working for us?”
Thomasina’s heart leapt.  “Oh, yes, she did…”
“So…perhaps Caroline and Emily…”
“Oh, of course,” said Miss Laidlaw.  “Caroline?  Let’s go and explore, shall we?  Leave Thomasina to talk business with Cynthia.  Maybe we’ll find something you’d like…”

Chapter 293.

Things were getting critical now.  She debated telling Miss Laidlaw she wasn’t feeling well, and walking Crumble home.  But she had been supportive, and spoken words of encouragement, and to do so now would just look as if she were chickening out.   She was pondering the problem when the traction between leather and latex suddenly gave way, and her behind slipped forward.  Looking down, she saw that she was leaking from her zip flap again, and quite effectively lubricating the saddle.  She had some tissues in the belt pack behind her back, but Crumble was still too keen for her to take even one hand off the reins.  The new sensations were no less arousing, with the complication that the saddle was getting slicker by the minute.  By the time she had gone another half mile, the regular back and forth of her crotch was becoming intolerable, and the motion of her upper thighs against the leather was generating a sticky, slimy froth.  Fearing that Miss Laidlaw or someone else would ride up again, she let Crumble trot on till she had put a good distance between her and the group, then reined him back to a walk, and managed to extract a handful of tissues, and clean things up a bit.  Unfortunately, as soon as she moved on, the ripples of pleasure were redoubled. 
They were on a single track with no forks which went right through the forest for about three miles, so there was no reason for her to remain in touch with the others.  She pushed on at a steady trot until they were out of sight.  Then she surrendered to her arousal, letting Crumble have his head while grinding her crotch desperately against the smooth leather.  Crumble, quite unused to such behaviour, and sensing something was about to happen, broke into a canter.  Thomasina, distracted, let him alone and focussed on her own agenda, holding onto the reins for no other reason than to keep her seat.
“Nearly there…” she gasped, as they rounded a slight right-hand bend.  “Almost there…”
“Yesss!....” 
Her eyes closed in ecstasy, but inside her head she saw exploding stars, an orgasmic firework display.  Waves of intense pleasure shook her body.  Crumble stopped dead and turned broadside across the track, as if in instinctive sympathy with her climax.  Thomasina gave herself up utterly to her orgasm, thrusting, moaning and spasming in a frenzy of uninhibited passion.
“Oh…my…god….” 
She had never before experienced such intense pleasure.  She couldn’t tell how long it lasted, but eventually it subsided, leaving her drained and panting.
She gulped, groaned, and collapsed on Crumble’s neck, patting him gratefully.
“Good boy…  You’re a good boy, Crumble…”
It occurred to her the pack might be catching up.  She glanced to the left, but the track was clear.
“Thank goodness.”  She smiled.  “What would they have thought…”
She sat up in the saddle and gathered up the reins.  She turned Crumble to the right to resume their journey.  She froze.  An icy chill ran through her.  She was face-to-face with three smartly dressed riders.  So that was why Crumble had stopped like that!  She recognised them from Pitt’s Wood.  They were known as the Posh Triplets, because they always hung out together, and thought themselves too important to mix with the hoi polloi.
One of them, who was in the process of slipping her phone back into her pocket, regarded her with a triumphant sneer.
“If you’ve quite finished, perhaps you’d like to let us pass…”
Thomasina opened her mouth, but couldn’t articulate a word.  Trembling, she pulled Crumble to one side.  The trio ambled past.  The last one stopped briefly.
“What’s your name?”
“My n-name…?”
“Your name.”
“Th-Thomasina…”
“Thomasina what?”
“Th-Thomasina M-Middiford…”
“We’ll be in touch, Thomasina Middiford…”

Chapter 291.

Having passed by the little knot of giggling brats, she headed down the hill towards the collecting area.  There were three such areas located around the Centre depending where the group was headed.  Today they were going out into the lower forest and the countryside beyond.  On Wednesdays Thomasina had arranged for one of the stable girls, Sam, to get her saddle and tack from the tack room and prepare her mount.  She had already determined that in future she’d do this herself, as part of her effort to establish better relationships with the staff.  As she approached the end of the block, she saw one head, then another, pop out from behind the end stable and then quickly pop back in again.  So they were waiting for her.  She stopped briefly to collect herself.  The butterflies in her tummy were probably forty percent nervousness and sixty percent arousal.  Her nipples refused to soften.  She could feel them tingling, and just see them straining at the fine latex.  Was it her imagination, or was the latex which formed the breast-cups thinner than the suit.  It was!  Thinner, lighter, and more supple.  Her heart was beating faster now.  She took a deep breath, and headed for the end of the block.  As she rounded it, the murmur of conversation stopped abruptly, and all heads turned towards her.  All of them!  Riders, stable girls…and stable lads!  What were they doing here?  Normally it would only be the girls.  Normally…  But today was different.  She could feel their eyes feasting on her.  She was trembling, but soi fast it felt more like a buzzing, throughout the whole of her upper body.  Her cheeks, ears and throat were burning with excitement.  She forced herself to appear unmoved.
“Good morning, Sam.  Thank you.  Crumble looks a picture.”
“No probs, Thomasina.”  There was an annoying smirk on her face.  “I’ve just checked the girths.  Have a good ride.”
“Thanks.”
Sam gave her a leg up, and she swung into the saddle.  As she did so a tiny drop of moisture flicked onto the inside of her right thigh.  She quickly brushed it off.  She sat firm and upright in the saddle, trying to look professional and businesslike.  Sam handed her her whip.  Out of the corner of her eye she could see a couple of the girls and several of the boys taking photos.  She ignored them. 

The group was led by one of the new instructors, Miss Laidlaw.
“Ready, girls?  Let’s go.”
They moved off to their right along the track that led to one of the lower gates.  Crumble could be a handful, and today he was keen, pulling and jogging.  He nearly clipped the heels of Miss Laidlaw’s mount. 
“Sorry, Miss Laidlaw…”
She turned in the saddle.
“Thomasina, Crumble’s a bit skittish today, isn’t he?  Why don’t you go ahead?”  She hesitated and gave her a little raised-eyebrow smile before turning back, as if to say, “well, we’ll, whoever would have thought it…”
“Yes, Miss Laidlaw.”
Thomasina pulled out and moved to the head of the group.  As she approached the double gates she could see a little knot girls waiting on either side, phones at the ready.  They weren’t fully open – clearly a ploy to slow their progress so they could take more photos.  She ignored them, threading her way through to the accompaniment of clicking shutters.  They must have been put up to it by their friends – or even their mothers.  Yes, even their mothers would have got the news by now!  Her images must be all over the Centre by now, and beyond.  Even the stable lads must have been swapping them by now.  Goodness knows what they would do with them.  The mere though made her cheeks burn.

Chapter 289.

Standing at the bus stop Thomasina lost the little bravado she had mustered.  There were nearly a dozen people waiting, including two girls of about twelve from the Centre.  Everyone was sneaking surreptitious glances at her, but the two girls were openly staring, whispering and giggling.  The bus was quite full with people going to work, but they were able to grab a double seat near the back, Caroline by the window and Thomasina on the outside.  It was warm, and Thomasina, already flushed with embarrassment, began to feel overheated.
“Well take off your jacket then,” said Caroline.  “No-one can stare at you while you’re here.”
So she did.  But at the next stop more people got on, including an old lady with a shopping-bag, who, having been allowed on first, shuffled her way down the bus till she was by their seat.  Caroline saw a golden opportunity.  She grabbed Thomasina’s jacket and backpack and gave her a push.
“Get up and let that lady sit down.”
“W-what?”
“Get up.  Go on!”
Another shove was enough to dislodge Thomasina from her seat.  The old lady was already thanking her.
“That’s kind of you, dear…”
Caroline spluttered with laughter.  Poor Thomasina was now standing in the central aisle, eye candy for all the passengers.  Caroline could see she was already getting agitated.  At least she was near the back, so with the passengers facing the front most of them hadn’t noticed her.  But then Caroline saw her look down at the man sitting to her right.  Thomasina had noticed he was fiddling with his phone.  He was going to take a picture of her!  She panicked.  Unthinking, she hurried blindly to the other end of the bus nearest the driver.  Turning, she saw rows of eyes staring at her in surprise.  At once she hurried back, but now everyone was aware of the pretty girl clad in nothing but a pink latex catsuit, riding boots and helmet.  She ended up somewhere in the middle of the bus, clinging to the vertical bar, and not knowing where to look.  Worse, the two girls in riding outfits were just behind her, and they made no effort to suppress their laughter.  What could she say?  They would only have replied they were having a private joke.  But she could hardly be oblivious to the clicking of shutters – and that was only by those who had forgotten to mute the sound.  Caroline was ecstatic.  This was even better than she could have imagined!  She feasted her eyes on the image of her friend, squirming with embarrassment, without any hope of imminent escape, a prey to every pervert on the crowded bus.  She looked at her watch.  It was another twenty minutes to Pitt’s Wood.  She wondered if someone would get off and Thomasina would get a seat, but she hoped not.  And in the event her hopes were realised, as most of the passengers were headed for South Kennett, which was well past Pitt’s Wood.  Thomasina had a brief glimpse hope when a passenger near the front stood up to get off at a remote stop, but he was immediately replaced by a lady getting on.  So by the time they arrived at the Centre everyone had had a good eyeful – or camera-ful – and the sudden buzz of conversation as they got off, accompanied by the two girls, told the whole story.
“Why did you make me do that?” she hissed, glaring at Caroline.
“Don’t complain.  You were a big hit.  Those guys in front of me took enough snaps to fill an album!”
“Shut up, Caroline.”
“Let’s go to the canteen.  I’m thirsty.”
“No!”
“Yes, Thomsina.  We’re going.  Come along.”
The giggling girls followed the along the path till they reached the first stable block, then ran off, presumably to report to their friends.  Reception was busy, heads turned as they passed through, and as they entered the canteen the murmur of conversation slowly died away as people reacted to her presence.  There was a queue at the self-service counter.  Caroline, having tried and proven her authority, and with total confidence in Thomasina’s obedience, sent her to buy drinks, then took a seat and watched with amusement as she made an exhibition of herself in the queue, wriggling and biting her lip and trying – and failing miserably – to look casual and relaxed.   She mentally patted herself on the back.  After years of playing second fiddle, she had Thomasina just where she wanted her…