Prelude 7

Chapter 1: Back to the Latex Store

“Do you know of lady clients who live near the university?” asked Ken to Antje. “I need to find a room in that area for September. I felt that if we can make a special mailing to these few people with a 50 DM discount certificate, they would come here to be measured and serviced, and that might open a couple of doors. What do you say of that plan?”

“Let me think about it,” replied Antje prudently. She did not like mixing private concerns with business. She also had Ken at heart in the sense that more involvements with women might become top heavy for him and his reputation might make a sudden down turn for a reason or another, usually a very stupid oversight.

“You see, I don’t want to tell Brunhilde anything before I have something just about firm, because she will miss me. However, I can’t travel three hours by public transportation to the university every day.”

“It makes sense, of course. Don’t get me wrong, I think the plan has merits but I want to think it through.”

Ken asked her to zip shut his suit, for his first appointment was just about there.

“This suit is tight, Ken, you need a new one. Let me measure you before you go home tonight. Might as well be comfortable. Think of the color or colors you may prefer. Black was Mr. Schulz’ idea, I think it is uncreative. I have some ideas already, but I want to hear yours.”

She grabbed a bottle of gel and squeezed it down his behind and passed her hand in front under the suit and squeezed some more on his testicles. He did not have time to react that she was massaging his crotch, arousing him to full erection.

“It is a new product that should keep you aroused for hours. It is guaranteed. I need to test it.”

She zipped the suit shut.

“Thanks, you could have warned me.”

She produced a belt, tied it around his waist. It had a crotch piece with a powerful massager.

“What’s that for?”

“Wait, you will see.”

No sooner was it tight that she turned it on. Ken could not survive the stimulation assault. He was drained of his cum in no time. She stopped it.

“I want to know how quickly you will recover from here.”

“You can be a brute, you know; it was not in the price.”

“No, this is a bonus with the job.” She made sure the suit was zipped.

“May I keep the suit, or have it enlarged?”

“You can do what you want with it. I shall have my seamstress on a rush as soon as we can fax her a design and your sizes.”

“Tell me, Antje, were the designs of the fashion show Brunhilde’s?”

“About three quarters of them. She does not want her name on them yet. Just reputation, I guess. They were good, right?”

“I was more than impressed. You have a future with her.”

“It’s all a try for the moment. She will show two of these designs in her next spring collection. She thinks that she can do that regularly along with other things, just as a publicity stunt, a trade mark if you will, a little bit like Versace.”

The store was completely redone, much less crowded and with private rooms and try-on places. Not all the departments were opened at the same time. The general adult merchandise opened at 10 AM. The latex and leather departments were staffed from 2 to 9 PM, the heavy rubber goods, special furniture and bondage equipment, from 6 to 9 PM. That left a good long time when one single person could manage the entire store, thereby cutting costs. Mondays were for mail orders until the yearend rush. Antje managed special orders during morning hours. Cornelia and temporaries helped her when needed. In the “heavy rubber department” she had a man who came after hours. He was gentle as can be, working mornings in an exercise salon. Nobody would have dared anything with him there; he was just huge and immensely strong. Boris was his name. He had served as a prison guard in the past and had good credentials.

Ken had a new space, smaller, but nicely decorated, less flashy Californian. It was inviting, private, and efficient. The double door closets idea was kept, hidden mirrors, more comfortable sitting, and a better organization altogether. There was one little alcove for the services..
In the alcove, the equipment was better thought through and the customer felt very private. If she wanted to change her clothes away from Ken’s presence, she could do that there. The lighting was good, the aeration too – Important.

Ken was getting acquainted with the organization of the space and visualizing how things would take place. He had four customers that first night, three of them for the first visit, the other one had been there, but handled by Antje the previous time. He looked at her notes and found them incomplete. He decided to take everything from the start.

Antje had also renewed the choices of garments in the racks. She obviously had studied the turnover of the items, the colors and sizes, and had purchased accordingly. There were two areas: the more affordable one with dipped items, and the brand names’ and made-to-measure. She had enlarged her resources of seamstresses, specialized them in specific lines of things so that they would be more efficient yet.

The first prospect was there. As a rule, Ken was never introduced until she had been greeted by the personnel and spent a good fifteen to twenty minutes in the racks, or with catalogs, or getting an education with a clerk. Shopping was a personal experience, but since she had come for a lot more “attention”, the transition had to take place slowly. There also was a fear factor to deal with. An adult store makes people nervous, uneasy and shy. To absorb a variety of items intended for one’s sensuality and privacy, to have such things publicly on display requires time, frequent visits; until one became familiar, understood, and came up with a decision, it required time.

The clerk was instructed to educate a prospective customer by having him or her handling swatches, or ask questions. She then would take her in the dress/blouse and suit department, or him to the pants and shirts department. Then, depending on sex, she would move the customer on to rain coats, and then progress to night wear and further to the underwear racks and drawers where all the special things were nicely displayed. She went on to the exotic clothes, cat suits, the super sexy ones, and the specialties depending on holidays or purpose. All the clerks were dressed in leather or in rubber, or both, but not in a heavy style. Style and colors were important. Antje made sure that they wore a minimum amount of jewelry or tattoos. She wanted them culturally neutral.

The music was subdued and unobtrusive to conversation. The entire store breathed good taste and privacy. In corners there always was a table with two chairs where matters could be discussed in comfort. Walls had pictures of women wearing fashionable latex fashion in public. It would assist customers in making progress with their choices.

Women usually started with a skirt, or a blouse, or a rain jacket along with other clothes they would wear home in privacy. The more courageous ones would start with a raincoat. Each and every garment took time to pick, and it took two people to do so. That’s where Ken’s taste was known to be so good; he could find out what the customer was looking for and lead him or her to make substantial purchases and be totally satisfied. With Brunhilde’s influence and training, Antje knew that he would be the store’s most precious asset. Antje also was frequently changing the front window, refreshing it, making it more inviting. That alone attracted people just to see the new displays for some time before they would dare walk in. Neighborhood newspapers were making regular articles on the creativity of her store. All of it helped the business.

Ken’s lady client had visited the racks with Cornelia, Antje’s trusted floor clerk for twenty minutes or so. Ken was still going over everything one more time when he noticed that he had a major erection again. It was staying there, just staying. He called Antje on the internal phone.

“Twenty-five minutes.”

“What, twenty-five minutes?”

“You know…”

“Oh, let me see… I’m coming over.”

She couldn’t believe it. “I like that lot.” She was rubbing and squishing it further.

“Hey, I don’t want a second orgasm, the customer is ready to come here.”

“Well, she wants to see your excitement about her, no?”

They both laughed and went to the young woman.

“Good evening! I believe we have an appointment” said Ken politely.

A new customer was usually a bit taken back at the sight of a young man dressed in a black cat suit from neck to toes. But it was a matter of seconds till it turned around into a sensual attraction. Antje interrupted, “His name is Ken, and you are… Charlotte Sutter? “

The young woman smiled.

”Welcome to the store! I am Antje, the manager here. If you have any needs, any question, and any suggestion, I am here for you. Our job is to make everything a happy time for you. Ken is our expert, and he is my most experienced and trusted colleague. I am confident you will have a special time with him. So I leave you two. Ok?“

She would look at Ken, then turn to the client with a smile.

”It was nice to have met you, Ms. Sutter. Come again, as often as you want.”

Ken led her to the custom fitting room all the while asking her questions on what she had already seen and was interested in. He took leads on her street clothes already, style and colors, on her attitudes. He had set aside in an empty closet certain garments at the back of the store, that he felt were exceptionally beautiful, and he would lead the young lady towards that closet and educate her through these.

“Is there anything here you would like to try on?”

Usually she would take three or four things that Ken would place in the racks of his room, along with other things he would grab on the way. By the time they were inside, he had an armload of dresses, skirts, pants, blouses, nightgowns, cat suits, leotards, and coats. He kept a number of bras and briefs in the room for different sizes and styles that he washed carefully after each try on for obvious reasons unless the customer wanted to keep it. He sealed them in plastic bags, hence it looked as if the garment was new.

“Many things here are for style and sizes. The colors and material thickness may not be what you want, but that can always be ordered and at the same price. This way we can be sure that everything fits perfectly and is to your taste.”

That form of personal attention was important. Also, Ken was conscious of the overall cost. If a standard garment, a less expensive item would fit all right, he would recommend it. In that way, the rapport with the client was always positive.

“We are here for three things: to explore latex and its possibilities for you and measure you, to choose some clothes and things, and for personal services. Is my understanding correct?”
Ken always sought the confirmation of the customer. It was safer. “Before I go on, here is a form that protects me. Read it and sign it, please.” Most women would sign it after a brief look. “Thank you”.

Now, I am going to measure you and fit you with clothes that have standard measurements. This will serve as an indicator for what you can buy in ready-made, and those clothes you might need made to your exact measurements.”

Ken would pause at that moment.

“While I prepare everything, look in that catalog and see if there is anything you like.” That would give him time to prepare things he already had prepared, but he could observe her manners, her body language, her concentration and areas of interests in the catalog. That catalog had a bit of everything, and the pages that would retain her attention gave him an indication. Most women were leafing fast, but there always were a couple of pages that would retain their attention for a couple more seconds than others. In the underwear section, some pictures showed a woman in underwear but without bra. That prepared the client to undress so that Ken could make his measurements on the skin.

“Would you mind telling me why you are interested in the wearing of latex clothes, if I may ask? It will help in selecting the best things for you.”

From there, a dialogue would take place in which Ken made the woman comfortable and helped her express very personal things. Ken had a way to keep things light, stories where he looked like a fool, or a learner and the woman his teacher.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, because most people are like you, and that’s perfectly normal. I was.”

Remarks like that built her confidence and after a few minutes, the most intimate details of the woman’s sensual preferences were talked over. Ken added some of his suggestions. It sometimes happened that a woman was very frustrated on her lack of sex enjoyment and responsiveness and had all kinds of doubts about it. So Ken had established a little folder that was to become a standard in the store for such persons, suggesting a progressive path to develop their sensuality, their sexuality and confidence. The small budget required was enticing; yet, if the client followed the recommendations, she would be rubberized within a year. This had happened many times even before he printed it.

“To measure you correctly for latex garments, I have to ask you to undress. Latex is your second skin, and it must be perfectly fitted. I shall fill out two forms, one for loose garments, and one for tight ones. You can look at the blank form.”

He would hand over his clipboard.

”After measuring you, I will put talcum powder over your body.“

He would show the box and the fresh puff he took from a sealed plastic bag,..

”and I shall assist you with passing your first latex garment. Here are a couple of hangers for your clothes and a bag for your lingerie. By the way, your clothes are in excellent taste.”

Compliments always helped.

During that time, he made sure to keep busy knowing that the woman could observe him through the mirror. His slick body, all shiny in black latex, his erection, all of it was conducive to her obliging without resistance.

The mirrors were on panels that Ken closed making the client a lot less self-conscious. He then would take the tape measure. He knew that the cold tape would be a good premise to that of rubber. He could find out if the woman’s sensitivity and where. His touch was ultra-light. She could barely feel him but he could observe her reactions. During the measurements, Ken would continue the conversation in a pleasant way, sharing stories and also some personal experiences with latex. He also would frequently ask her if questions came to her mind. He tried to keep her mind occupied so she would feel less naked and embarrassed after some time.

“Please, step on this platform. I am going to measure your legs and the tape will have to go into close contact with your intimate areas. You may desire to help me then. This is the last series of measurements.”

Sensitivity, asking permissions, all of it contributed to a rapport by which respect and consideration finally touched a woman’s heart.

“We have talked of tight garments. Do you want pants with a wide crotch or just a seam?”

He would show her pictures of both styles.

At that point, and if the client was more free- thinking, he would introduce her to the availability of inserts for her vagina and anus.

“You don’t have to make up your mind this minute. Just think about the possibilities. I am going to show you a rubber corset too, just to make you aware of what is available.”

From there, he would tell her of stories about one or two previous clients, how they had dared purchase some garments with inserts and what had happened.

“Now we are all done. Just remain here, and I will put some talcum powder on you. Put your feet apart a little and your arms too.”

After slapping on latex medical gloves, Ken would start from her neck, down her back to her ankles, then her arms. He would observe every reaction to sensitive areas.

“Now cross your hands behind your neck. Thank you”

He would step in front of her and do the same on the front, taking great care to put plenty of powder under her arms on her breasts, and on her abdomen, her legs and finally her mound and crotch. It often happened that she was already leaking with love juice.

“Don’t worry, it can’t be helped. Remain there, and we shall try our first garment for sizes, that will be a nightgown. We shall check the collar fit, the sleeves and the length of the garment.”

The real reason was to give the woman a sensual experience of latex she would hardly recover from. The coolness, the static energy, the suddenness of so many sensual caresses all over by the gown would light her up like nothing else. Often he had to help keep her balance for a minute or so. When she recovered, Ken would check the shoulders, the sleeves, the overall wear and make notes. He left the garment on her for a minute or two.

“Please, take my hand and step down. Now walk around and tell me how you like the feel of it.”

Most women had no other words than “I like it a lot” “it feels wonderful”. Some would be more descriptive: “I feel horny as hell.” Soon she would realize that she was leaking like a fountain. At that moment, Ken would suggest,

“Would you feel more comfortable with some underwear?”

It was always accepted. So Ken would grab a pair of briefs he had prepared in a sealed plastic bag, but these briefs had crotch knobs. He knew his client would keep them on anyway. It was like a present from the store if the customer would make an important purchase. Ken would usually assist the woman in passing them on; after that he would dry her legs with a paper towel and repair with talcum powder again. That was a major step towards the sale.

“You seem to like this nightgown. Do you want to put it in those items you would consider purchasing?” For some reason, clients would never ask the price. They wanted the nightgown.

“What is your color preference?” But for the underwear, the client was naked again.
After that Ken would suggest a pair of pants or a skirt. But, if a skirt, he would put a garter belt before.

“Now I would like to try a bra on you for size and shape.”

The client had often forgotten she was bare breasted because there was no mirror around.

“We will try a flesh colored one. We have two styles, the normal one, and one with holes in the cups. Do you want to feel that one, I bet you never wore such a thing.”

Most clients agreed; it was an adventure. Ken knew the right size in a look.Then he would bring a blouse, or a top, loose or tight depending on the clients wish. The stimulation of her nipples just moved the sale on further.

“OK, we have an ensemble that fits you just lovely.”

He would take notes for improvements and measure again just to make sure.
If the client were in a skirt, he would suggest stockings and call Antje on the phone for a pair of pumps in the appropriate color and stockings. The feel of having one’s legs encased always resulted in more disorientation.
Next Ken would bring a raincoat, usually black, silver, green, or light blue with gloves in contrasting color. When the client was all outfitted with the hood on her, he would open the mirrors.

“Take a good look at yourself, walk around, sit, stand up, and twirl around.”

The excitement would begin in earnest. Her breath grew shorter.

“Now look at yourself taking off your rain coat. Do it slowly”

The surprise never failed. Her eyes would widen, the excitement heat up. She would look at her legs and bend them. She would throw her hips sideways, and her shoulders another, round off her behind, and walk around. The bewilderment on one hand and the excitement on the other got her going.
“Now we have all the measurements correct. You can fit in most standard sizes.”

If it were not the case he would tell her. “Let’s look at other styles and colors.”

A long discussion would ensue with swatches, and the order was completed. This done, he would ask her,

“Do you want to take with you the clothes you have on? There is a twenty-five percent discount if you do.”

Usually she did. Ken would hand over her raincoat.

“Look at yourself once more. You are absolutely smashing, you know.”

She would take some more time again in front of the mirrors.

“You have also come here for services.”

Sometimes the client would not want them any more. Most often they wanted the attention because an attachment to Ken had started. He showed this young lady to the alcove, pulled the curtain, washed his hands and tied around her waist the skirt he always had.

“Now, while you stand, let me help you remove your bottom clothes.”

His good manners went very big.

“Lay down on the table and place your legs in the supports, please.”

He would turn away when she did that and put another pair of medical latex gloves. When he felt she was ready, he would look at her eyes while strapping her ankles with Velcro.

 “I will have to lift your legs up and apart. Don’t worry a bit, we shall be done very soon. It does not hurt at all and you will be happy you did this.”

Ken would explain to her everything, and show her the instruments he used. There was no surprise. He lifted her legs up, one at a time. He then shaved her pubic hair with care and gentleness starting from the outside in toward her crotch. When it came to the most sensitive area, he would give her time to rest before. Then he proceeded with great care and encouragement. After that he would wash the entire area, touch up wherever needed it, and put a mild liquid antiseptic.

“Forgive me, I will have to use my fingers now.”

Using a scented gel that had additives to stimulate her sexual drives, he would spread it from her anus up to her clitoris working it into the tissues. He would put some more of it on the knobs of her latex briefs, slip them up her legs, and lastly help her into her pants or skirt. The gel would activate in about one hour. That part was a conditioner for her next visit that would take place within a couple of weeks usually. Once this was done and she was back on her feet, he would ask her,

“How do you feel now?”

He always was rewarded with a smile of relief, and often with a passionate embrace. Most would whisper in his ear, “indecent, but I love it”. Sometimes, during the gel application, a woman would experience an orgasm. That was Ken’s crowning achievement. He did not seek to provoke it, but it showed a woman in tune with herself. He never reacted to that except in holding her hand until it was over.

“Do you want to change now into the clothes you came with before leaving?”

The session would end most of the time with an exchange of personal address. Ken was welcome in almost every private home, urged to call soon.
Antje would then complete the financial arrangements before the client left. Ken was at the door to say goodbye, and thank his customer. He also had a chocolate candy tied in a triangular swatch of latex as a “see you again” after taste.
Some clients had prepared a “note” for him in which they enclosed a tip that could go up to 100 DM, sometimes. Often he had received love messages, invitations, or at least compliments for his professionalism

Upon a second visit, things went much quicker because she knew what she wanted. These customers mainly came back for Ken’s services, but they would buy far more than they intended. Ken knew what questions to ask, and he directed them into new experiences, new territory. The corset was a big step in a woman’s latex education.

If Ken’s schedule were too tight that day, he would make a special appointment with the client for another time and prepare for it. A corset session showed maturity in a woman’s experience, because Ken would spend some time in explaining to her the versatility of the crotch strap and its attachments. Some corset also had electrical stimulators around the navel, the nipples, and wherever wanted, with the controls and battery pack in a very flat pouch that could slip in some convenient place. New batteries could only be obtained at the store, of course. They were not commercialized. Corsetry took time and care. Corseted women were changing measurements constantly and adjustments had to be ordered special. Once a customer started with corsets and persevered, it became a love affair. She would buy more of them for various purposes and fashions. From there, it led to stockings and special effect dresses. Even custom fitted swimming suits with inserts in thick latex with a hidden side zipper or lacing were highly prized by corseted women, young and old. These swimsuits were nicely decorated with intricate latex appliqués. Corset users felt insecure unless their body was supported and fitted. The feeling was even greater for those who regularly used the inserts. These women could get themselves into a daze, or all the way to orgasms with the control pack any time they wanted. Inserts could also bring a woman over, just by being there. A specialized firm had announced a series of very flat vibrators that could be inserted in the construction of a corset. When Ken had to fit a corset with all its features, it would take a good two hours until the client walked out knowledgeable in her purchase’s potential.

On that first day back at work, he measured these four women, Charlotte Sutter, Katarina Gruen, Fridel Himmelberg, and Helena Bachofen.
Charlotte was in theatre as an actress; she also worked part-time in a school, teaching drama. Katarina Gruen worked in real estate, Fridel Himmelberg was a mother of two older adolescents, an artist in painting and interior decoration. Helena Bachofen traveled for an advertising company. All of them wanted dates with Ken. They were sold to his attitudes, personality, and professionalism. Antje received calls from them to convey their satisfaction to Ken and to thank her. Katarina promised Antje she would spread the word. Within a couple of weeks, it looked like Ken had a summer job until classes would begin. The money was very good too.
Ken would keep careful tab of the addresses of all these women, for he did not lose sight of his need for an abode in the University area.

Brunhilde took him for a week vacation. They flew to Spain in one of these idyllic Mediterranean little ports. Lotte did all the arrangements just before leaving for her own vacation in Austria. It was another unforgettable week of dolce vita. Back in Hamburg, Ken went on working for the store and finally noticed a potential client who lived at two train stations from the campus.

Ken stayed three nights at Karina’s but he could not find anything suitable for September. Her connection did not have a room available. Still, it was a good time for both, and Karina received a lot of strength from Ken’s encouragements. On that Sunday, they took an evening tour of the port of Hamburg on a tourist boat and had dinner on board. After dinner they both stood on the upper deck, she huddled in his arms. She had her rubber rain coat on, and shivered with delight.

Chapter 2: Listening at long last

“I am through with your affairs with rubber! I am through…l am through… I am through… that’s final, there is no explanation to give, that’s what you want, not a woman, not a partner, just a thing. It is over, don’t try to explain, I don’t want to hear it. If by tomorrow you don’t take your things, I shall mail them to your boss with my letter and you can ask them from him. No, I shall bring them to his doorstep!”

He had tried to explain to her, but she was not going to hear it.

“I am not a thing, I will not compete with a thing. That’s “it” or me. Make up you mind immediately.”

Mathilde was at the end of her rope. That man she had loved but never married, she found him pleasuring himself with rubber. Soon she learned that he always had been turned on by rubber –she would not believe it -, and that “this creep”, as she called him now, had hidden it from her all that time. This was too much, too humiliating, she was not going to put up with him any longer. That was the last straw, the very last straw. She was so infuriated that she could have thrown the content of the entire apartment onto the street. She slept that night on the sofa, packed a bag in a storm, and left him a note.
When I come back here, either you are out with all your stuff, or your stuff is out for good and always. Think it over. If you are here and have kept it, I shall do what I said I would.

Since it was a summer week, she called in sick and she took the S-Bahn to the Central Train Station, and railed to Amsterdam to change her ideas. There, all by herself, she visited the Rijksmuseum, listened to concerts and especially went shopping. She got lost many times, but she did not care. It was about six in the evening when she found herself just by the red line district. With her blond hair she was quickly noticed and she thought at one time that she was being pursued. So, out of desperation, she ran into the first store she could find for protection. She was out of breath, out of her mind. The kind clerk took her to the back, gave her some coffee and patiently listened to her tale of woes. She asked questions and listened some more.

“Explain to me, apart from his rubber fetish, how is your husband as a man?” asked the sales attendant after a long time.

Mathilde felt trapped. She regained her composure.

“I have lived for two years with him. He is a good man. I confess, I blew my top, I did not listen sufficiently, I just feel so deeply hurt, so materialized, you would not believe.”

“I believe you. But tell me, what are all the good things he has done for you?” the sales clerk pulled out a note pad.

Mathilde was surprised by the turn of the conversation. It was only then that she noticed that the sales attendant was dressed in a latex dress, a design dress. She almost jumped off her seat when she came to realize where she was, and yet, she had been well treated. They even had gotten a sandwich for her.

She heard herself explain all the good sides of her mate, and the sales clerk to conclude,

“Allow me to give you an introduction to rubber right now, and then you can make up your mind.”

Mathilde did not know if she should stay or go. One part of her was still wounded and would have run, another part felt curious and wanted to see what was so much in rubber that she should compete with it. ‘No’, she said in herself, ‘I am not going to compete with rubber, it’s me, or his thing’. Then she felt that he might find a woman like this sales clerk, a woman who knew rubber, a woman who could understand and even enter into his kind of sexuality, and she would have him. That was another pain, but also a motivation to find out, to explore further.

“My name is Tieneke”, said the clerk. “I have been working here for five years and some. When I was hired here, I was in a situation just as yours. I could have killed him I was so mad. But I found out that the rubber material has properties that can enhance one’s sexuality. Not all men respond to it. But for those who do find their true sexuality, it becomes part of them; but they can’t be fully satisfied with it alone because it does not offer them a relationship, obviously. Hence, they develop guilt, or a frustration. If the woman they live with rejects the rubber in their lives, he feels personally rejected also, because rubber is part of him now. That’s the hard part to understand, especially for a woman. Am I clear so far?”

“Yes!”

“Now, here comes the catch. Can a woman’s sexuality beneficiate with rubber? The answer is ‘yes, a great deal’, but not in the same way as a man. Of course, we are sexually different. However, she will find some barriers to overcome. But if she perseveres, rubber will afford her more pleasure than to a man.”

“So, you are telling me that I could also learn on rubber and then use it in my relationship, or at least accept it in my partner?”

“In essence that’s it. But you will find more, much more than he has. A woman’s vulnerability makes her cautious. When you feel insecure, or ignored, or when you would love to have a good fuck and it just isn’t here, that’s when rubber comes in and you learn to draw from it pleasure, sensuality and enjoyment. For some reason, each garment has a voice that you come to expect and you get to know and love, and that’s the reason why so much is being done for women in rubber, or latex. The look of it is another factor. For a woman as pretty as you, you will be an instant hit.”

“I am not a whore. I am Registrar at the University of Hamburg. I don’t need that aspect. I have no problem with relationships.”

Mathilde realized that she had spoken too quickly. That was not nice to Tineke, considering all the time she had spent with her, and her kindness. Mathilde knew that her anger was no solution, but help was, or else she would not be here. Besides, she worked virtually with women only, not men, hence she had not been truthful. She had never given much attention to fashion. Her clothes were normal clothes, jeans most often, and that was it. Also, she never felt she was so attractive, especially on campus where thousands of young women look a lot better than she does. After all, may be Tineke had a point. She decided to listen to her. May be with these clothes she could make her partner jealous.

All of a sudden the thought of revenge was very sweet. She saw herself wearing some of these clothes, and other men desiring her; she saw herself meeting him by chance, she dressed in rubber and telling him, ‘I am on my way to a date with the finest man you can imagine.’ She could fantasize his reaction, his frustration, and his hurt. ‘He needs to feel it once, then we shall see.’

Tineke had left her to herself and was walking through the store setting aside some garments for Mathilde to try on when she would be ready. She was used to this type of reaction, of hurt.

Mathilde felt left alone, all of a sudden. She got up, and looked for Tineke. The store was replete with rubber clothes, the larger part for women. Other women were shopping there, and they did not look like whores but very much like herself. Tineke was assisting some of them. Mathilde felt a little jealous of them, and decided to spend some time in that store to earn back Tineke’s attention. That sales clerk had in fact gone beyond her responsibility, for she truly cared.

So, she started to look at a rack of dresses to begin with. Her hand touched the material. It felt light and smooth, a trifle cold, but it had a gentleness, a resilience all of its own. She also noticed that the manufacture of them was well made, the seams were clean, the zippers perfectly set. She noticed the shine but could not yet imagine how she would look. She thought about sweating in this and how sticky it would become, uncomfortable and cold. There must be a solution, she thought. She would ask Tineke. At that moment the sales clerk was having a lively conversation with two other women, and they were laughing a lot. Mathilde’s mood went a notch down, for she knew that she had bitten the helping hand. But she moved to the next display: “bras, briefs, panties, girdles, garter belts, corsets, and specialties”, it was written in four languages.

She was a functional woman, but this time she saw how much she had missed on life by not living her femininity, by not being the woman she really is, and that was another thing she heard in her partner’s voice:

“Why can’t you dress like a woman, why do you stick to jeans and oversize shirts.”

And she could hear herself answer,

“Because I am comfortable.” I, I, I, I, always I. Now she faced a rack where she could say something else than “I”. Her attention went back to the bras. As she looked at the various kinds and colors, she noticed forms and styles that were new to her. Was rubber on a woman such a turn on for a man? Was a bra with an aperture for the nipple attractive? Which color was best? If she was going to fight on his turf, she might as well win hands down. Winning meant making him happy, no, crazy. So she realized that she did not know what could make him that way, especially in this area. She went another notch down in herself.

Tineke was sorting things out in the skirt department and in the slacks’. Mathilde approached her.

”I want to apologize for my attitude.”

“Don’t mention it, it’s ok.”

“I can see that there is much to this, and I would like you to show me.”
They went to a special room where clothes were tried on. Tineke measured Mathilde in the buff.

“5 foot 9, 36, 26, 34, 125 lbs. You could make many women envious. On the skin measurements are best for these kinds of garments.”

She powdered her body. She had chosen a bra for her.

“This one will feel comfortable after a few moments. Rubber is cold at first touch, but eventually it warms up, yet not quite to your body temperature. That’s the reason you are always aware of it on you, or of you in it. That bra left Mathilde’s nipples free.

“Now put a little cream on your nipples. They will feel better. In minutes Mathilde could see them swelling and turning very hard, it had an immediate echo in her low abdomen. By that time she had a pair of briefs with knobs in the crotch. She had asked why, and Tineke had answered,

“It is a basic pair of briefs for your rubber collection.”

She also had spread some of that cream on the knobs.

“You will feel better this way. There are other types of briefs more intense than that.”

Mathilde had wondered what they could be, but she did not dare ask. Now she felt dampness in her crotch. Tineke passed the puff of powder once more.

“Let’s try on this dress with sleeves for size and measurements.” It was a pink dress. Mathilde loved pink; she was always looking good with it. It had been years she had not worn anything as pretty, as refined. It was a classic dress with some refinements in its style. She had no idea she could like it so much at first sight.

“Ok, I am going to pass it over your head and zip it up.” That will make it or break it, thought Tineke.

The cold feeling was not as brutal since Mathilde had underwear, but the stimulation on her nipples increased immediately, and the soft and smooth material on her front and thighs sent shivers throughout her body. When the zipper was pulled up; she felt contained, held, secure, but naked.

“Try to slip your feet into these pumps,” suggested Tineke. “Before I open the mirror, hold that little hand bag.” Tineke pulled the curtain uncovering three mirrors, watching Mathilde’s expression; she could not refrain from a smile of pleasure at her image.

“You are making me over.” Mathilde moved, walked around, doubting it was her, so good looking and asserting.

“May I suggest you wear your hair up in a clamp? Here is one.”

It enhanced her image of confidence and strength.

Mathilde felt on the right track, and now she was ready for anything.

“What else have you got for me to try?”

The two women went through a number of things.

“I feel like I am going to splurge today, and I shall.” smiled Mathilde.
She tried on a swimsuit. Mathilde was a regular at the local swimming pool.

“What do you think my partner would love me into?”

“As I know men, it varies; but all of them want their girl in a cat suit. Here is one.”

Tineke instructed Mathilde how to use it. But before passing it on, she measured her once more just be sure. The feeling of total enclosure almost overwhelmed Mathilde. Tineke left her in the room for a while because there were prospective clients in the store she had to serve. Since it was the last garment Mathilde was trying on, she looked at all the others to decide which ones she would buy. She wanted them all, of course, but finalized on the pink dress, a baby doll ensemble, three pairs of briefs, two bras, a pair of stockings and garter belt, a skirt, two blouses, a rain coat with matching rain hat, a full length nightgown, and the cat suit she was wearing. She had never felt so horny and naked although covered from head to toe. ‘This suit feels wonderful, I wish I could keep it on.’

Tineke came back and they packed everything.

“I would like the cream you put on me, a bottle of shine and some talcum powder.” Tineke went to fetch these items.

“That will be on the house, plus that little surprise present.”

“Thank you very much. Oh, by the way, do you know of such a store in Hamburg?”

“Yes, I do, and the manager too. Her name is Antje. Here is her card, and here is mine.”

The credit card slipped through the register and Mathilde was on her way to the hotel where she planned on trying everything once more. She took a cab since she was carrying so much stuff and felt “horny as hell”.

Mathilde was not going to forget that first rubber night. ‘Now I know… now I know. I was so stupid.’ She hoped against all hopes that she could get her partner back. She knew it was a big if; but suppose he did not come back, she now could explode her sexuality this way. Still, latex was not company. She decided to visit the Hamburg shop upon her return.
The surprise box contained a set of three dildos with batteries and samples of scented cream. She remained orgasmic the entire night. In the morning, deep throbs were still shaking her.
Would he be home? A part of her wished he were so that she could surprise him, but another part wished he was not, because she did not quite trust him after that. She refused the thought of being controlled by the relationship. She needed a fresh start; the clash had been so painful. ‘With this dress and skirt I will go and dance, and will drive them all down to my feet.’ The more she fantasized, the less she hoped he would be home.
During her last night in Amsterdam, she decided to travel home with her dark green rubber skirt on. She did just that. In the train compartment the smell of rubber soon became obvious. She was sitting next to a young lady who had noticed.

“Excuse me, but I am awed by your skirt,” she asked, “is it made of rubber?”

From there a conversation went on till Bremen where she stepped out. They exchanged business cards. Mathilde had shown that young lady, Greta Werner, the catalog she had received in Amsterdam. ‘Here I am, already educating people to rubber’ she thought.
The train arrived in Hamburg and she rolled her heavy suitcase to the S-Bahn, and counted the eighteen stations to hers. The train was emptying a little more at every stop. She knew that the left over passengers were students staying near the campus during the summer. She felt she could walk the three blocks to her apartment even though the weather was warm.
She turned the key, a little out of breath. She thought, ‘If he is here, he will be shocked, and we can perhaps put things together again. If he is not, then… I shall take it from there.’ She calmed herself. Her skirt was a little sticky now, but not unpleasant. She found a note on the table.

I understand. Since I have planned a number of three day trips in four countries for the company, I will take them all in a row. I have asked for a transfer that has been approved. I feel it is better for both of us to stay apart, for we shall hurt each other more on other things yet. I apologize for not showing that part of me before to you, it was fear to lose you on my part and hurt for you in the end. It hurts, but I hope I have learnt my lesson.

Mathilde was numb. She did not know how to react. A couple of tears rolled down her cheeks, but she knew he was right. She knew she could get in touch with him in a couple of phone calls. ‘Better end it now, even if a reconciliation could be worked out fairly easily.’ she thought. At 25, she was not over the hill yet. ‘Next Saturday, appointment in Altona’ she said to herself, and placed Antje’s business card on the phone.
She called the store the following day for an appointment, but there was no space for five weeks. She took the first one available, namely by mid-August.

Conclusion :

Thank you, reader, for your sustained interest in these stories; none of them are finished, and never will be.
The purpose is to bring out the value of character in relationships over and above all things. In as much as we can use things to others’ good in life, that good comes back to us many times over. On the other hand, if we are preoccupied with our own, that too comes back in the form of loneliness, superficiality, and disappointments.
This is all the more true in the realm of a close relationship with or without the marvelous enjoyment that rubber does afford. When we communicate respectfully and honestly, so that the place and growing influence of latex can be accepted and understood in function of the other’s personality and pleasure first, rather than primarily for self, the heart wins big, more than bargained for; it loves to give more, and never to hold on, to write the wrongs in the sand rather than on a stone, because the cost always will be too high.

CONTINUATION ???

Yes, it does… Twelve years later or so, we will see Ken again and new heroes coming out from everywhere. Read the new series of 9 episodes, entitled “Will you….”. This series is followed by another one in several parts : MORELAX. Lots of excitement.

28.09.09