Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Little Shop of Rubber 3

by Amy Amy

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© Copyright 2006 - Amy Amy - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; latex; cons; X

Little Shop of Rubber Part 3 by AmyAmy F/f; latex; cons; X
This story is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters portrayed here to real people living or deceased is entirely coincidental. The author retains all rights to this work, except in allowing that it may be archived and distributed for non-commercial purposes, providing all text remains intact, including this notice.

This story deals with 'adult' themes of a highly sexual nature that some may find disturbing, including 'fetishism'; bondage; domination; sex acts that may be considered non-consensual; use of sex-toys; bizarre erotic costumes; sexual transformations; and may do so in an unrealistic and fantastical manner. If you find such topics disturbing, or if it is illegal for you to read about them, stop reading here.


The Little Shop of Rubber - Part 3

On Saturday, Amy couldn’t decide if she should go back to the clothes shop, where Dehlia would probably be, or try to put the whole thing behind her. She lay in bed through Saturday morning trying to convince herself to leave it alone, but something inside her made it impossible. Eventually she got out of bed, and after going through her usual Saturday morning routine, she found herself on the bus for the Old-Town.

The window display had changed a little, with some new designs gracing the mannequins, but apart from that, the shop seemed the same. Dehlia was flipping through a pile of invoices when Amy arrived. She looked up and greeted her ‘customer’ with such enthusiasm, that Amy wondered why she had considered not coming. It seemed absurd that she could be afraid.

“Hello! It’s nice to see you. Here to pick up your new outfit?” Said Dehlia with an excited grin.

“Hello… New outfit?” Said Amy.

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” said Amy sheepishly. “Clothes I suppose... Well, not a complete outfit: you don’t need to do that,” she laughed. “I hope I’ll be able to get out of them this time.”

“How are you feeling?” Said Dehlia.

“Uh, not so bad,” said Amy in a non-committal tone, but her fragile expression said something else.

“Let’s hope I can cheer you up,” said Dehlia walking over to the door, slipping the latch and flipping the sign to ‘closed’. “No point in being interrupted. This is a little special, so I want to give you my complete attention.”

“Alright,” said Amy nervously. Her last encounter with Dehlia’s clothing hadn’t turned out a complete success, even if she ignored the nasty things that had happened while she was wearing it. She couldn’t blame the clothes for that, the drugs maybe. If she didn’t like speed before, she hated it now.

It was easier to blame the drugs than herself; it was easier to try and pretend she’d forgotten what happened than to deal with what she’d been thinking at the time. The event itself was nothing compared with how she’d reacted to it. Amy could feel that the problem was contained somewhere inside her, but she pretended she didn’t know. Anything that helped to move the feelings outside was OK.

“You’ve got to get right back on after a fall. That’s what they say,” announced Dehlia.

“Guess I should have been in here on Monday?”

“Well, you are here now,” said Dehlia, pushing aside the rack of coats that was still hiding the entrance to the corridor with the little changing room at the end. Amy began to follow her, and was surprised when Dehlia went through the first door to the left in the corridor instead of heading down to the end. “Follow me,” called down Dehlia.

“Stairs?” Said Amy, heading up after Dehlia. It was dark in the stairway, and there was no banister, but there were walls on both sides and thick carpet on the stairs. Amy felt quite safe climbing up into the dark. She just didn’t want to bump into Dehlia by accident.

Suddenly Amy stumbled, and there were no more stairs. There was a click off to one side and a dirty, bare bulb illuminated another corridor like the one below: peeling paint and identical doors. Dehlia gestured for her to follow her down to the end of the corridor. No curtain and changing room at the end of this one, but instead the door into a spacious white painted room.

Amy looked around the pristine space as Dehlia wandered over to some cupboards in the corner. It had a high ceiling like a warehouse or studio with skylights but no windows, and with simple fluorescent tubes hanging from the roof at regular intervals. It felt very light and open, not at all like the cramped spaces she’d been moving through. Light grey carpet tiles covered the floor, and seemed somehow out of place. Amy had expected bare boards spattered with paint or something else that matched the worn state of the other unfinished parts of the shop.

A complicated machine built from heavy stainless steel had pride of place in the centre of the room. Other machines occupied the wall to the right. The left wall was mostly covered in cupboards, filing cabinets, racks holding big rolls of what Amy guessed to be sheet rubber and plastic barrels of chemicals. Amy realised the room was smaller than she had first thought, because the far wall was actually a large mirror. Everything in the room looked new.

“What is this place?” Asked Amy.

“It’s the storeroom for our manufacturing. Most of these machines still have to be moved next door and installed. Oh, I don’t mean the building next door, there’s another room… Anyway, it’s air conditioned to exactly the right temperature, so it was the best place to store your outfit once it was done.”

“That sounds very complicated,” said Amy. “Why does an outfit have to be stored at a specific temperature?”

“Our new clothes contain ‘active elements’, they respond to the heat in the body. It’ll all make sense when I explain later. Look, here’s your outfit,” Dehlia said, holding out a variety of very shiny black, red and white items.

“Should I get changed here?” Said Amy, eyeing the clothes curiously.

“That’s the idea,” said Dehlia. “I’ll need to help you dress, if that’s alright with you?”

“If that’s best,” said Amy, determined not to show a weakness. Dehlia had seen her naked before, so there was no point being coy about it. She dropped her bag against the wall, and began to take off her clothes, folding them and placing them on top of a filing cabinet. She was wearing some cheap baggy jeans and thick socks that were comfortable with her para-boots. Once the boots were untied, she soon had all that off. Then she peeled off her fluffy sweater and the T-shirt underneath. She was left standing barefoot on a floor that was a little cooler than she would have preferred, with her plain white underwear still in place.

Dehlia had placed all the rubber items on the adjacent filing cabinet, and was preparing a rather heavy looking one-piece black rubber suit that had an incredible glossy shine to it. Amy looked at the suit, and knew that her underwear couldn’t stay on. With a wry little smirk, she removed her bra and stepped out of her panties and was rewarded with a smile from Dehlia.

“Good,” said the older woman. “Now you’d probably call this a cat suit, though that phrase always sounds a little cheesy to me. It’s a full body suit with some shaping in it, stiff where it needs to be, and flexible where it ought to be. It will give you good support. Your body is so perfect, but it might improve on perfection just a little.”

“Sounds good. Is there a catch?” Said Amy.

“Yes, and no. I designed this especially with you and with the dance-floor in mind. You can wear this suit and really work up a sweat, and you won’t get a nasty rash or need to worry about getting out of it before you end up like a prune. It draws the sweat right away from the skin, keeping you completely dry. It’s like the tights you had, but a generation beyond: much better,” explained Dehlia carefully.

“So what’s the catch?” Said Amy, staring doubtfully at the suit in Dehlia’s hands.

“To make sure it doesn’t chafe or pinch, and that there’s no moisture between it and the skin, it sticks very firmly. It reacts with the moisture in your sweat, along with the heat so it sticks fast. The only way to remove it once it’s stuck is to soak in a hot bath, and I do mean hot,” Dehlia continued to explain.

“Eek. That sounds a little scary, but it does come off?” Said Amy doubtfully.

“Of course, and while it’s on you’ll hardly know you’re wearing it. It stretches perfectly with the skin: no chafing, no slipping, no pinching and no wrinkly prune skin, just delicious tightness. We’re really going to rule the market with this, and it’s just the beginning of what we’re doing,” enthused Dehlia.

Amy wondered for a moment at the mystical ‘we’, but decided not to enquire further: there was probably a simple explanation.

“So how will I get it off here?” Said Amy, still a hint of reticence in her voice.

“I thought of that. As long as you don’t sweat and keep your skin cool it won’t stick. That’s why we’re in this room, and that’s why I have to put the clothes on for you. That way you won’t perspire,” explained Dehlia cheerily.

“It looks like you really have thought of everything. Still, you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for me, but I’m very grateful. I hope it fits,” said Amy with a little more confidence than before.

“I think it will,” said Dehlia. “Yes, I think it will.”

Dehlia squirted something from a bottle onto her hands and began to meticulously smooth it over every part of Amy’s skin. Amy had no idea what it was, but it was slippery, and the sensation of Dehlia’s fingers powerfully massaging the liquid into her skin was very relaxing.

“This is a special lubricant that will help you put the suit on easily, but won’t make a mess afterwards, and doesn’t interfere with the way the suit works. You should always use lots of this when putting the suit on,” warned Dehlia.

Amy bathed in the feeling of the other woman’s fingers on her skin, just touching her, without any erotic intent. It was a reassuring human contact: something she hadn’t had for a long time, unless she counted Dehlia’s visit to her house.

“You’re very good at that,” said Amy, shivering slightly in the cool air.

“I’m glad you think so,” said Dehlia, putting down the lube. Then she wrinkled up her expression as if having an unpleasant thought. “Maybe I ought to wax this off,” she said gesturing to Amy’s already minimal patch of public hair.

“Ow,” said Amy. “I did that before once. It’s bad enough with just the edges.”

“You’ve done it before?” Said Dehlia, pretending surprise.

“Er, well, yes,” said Amy, blushing slightly. “I had this white swimsuit for Ibiza last year…”

“It should be easier second time around. It might hurt if it got stuck in the suit,” cautioned Dehlia.

“OK then, if you can do it. You don’t mind do you?” Said Amy, conscious of how much waxing and hair removal creams cost her.

“No problem. Don’t worry about it,” said Dehlia. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Dehlia vanished into the corridor, leaving Amy naked in the storeroom. Amy was starting to feel cold, and once left alone she was starting to worry that somebody else might be in the building. The liquid seemed to have dried on her skin, so she put her sweater back on while she was waiting, and that made her feel a little better.

Amy was starting to get nervous, and was thinking of putting her jeans back on when Dehlia returned with a glass bowl with hot wax in the bottom, and all the other things that she’d need.

“No chairs in here, what a nuisance,” said Dehlia pushing up Amy’s sweater and applying the waxed strip. Amy shuddered as the hot goo pressed against her crotch. As Dehlia applied more strips and the wax cooled a little, Amy thought it felt quite pleasant, not a hot burning, but more like a deep heat massage. Then she thought of how much it would hurt when it came off and tears almost came to her eyes just from imagining it.

“It should dry quickly. Only a minute to wait,” said Dehlia. “You’re coping with this very well. I know I’d be terribly embarrassed.”

“Actually, I am embarrassed, but I can’t afford to be picky. I can’t often spare the money to have my waxes done properly so I nearly always do it myself. It’s difficult,” said Amy sheepishly.

“I can imagine,” said Dehlia.

Amy suppressed a squeal when Dehlia yanked off the first strip but she couldn’t stop her eyes watering. A little more agonising pain later and it was all over. Amy rubbed at her eyes. She wasn’t tearful, but her crotch was certainly smarting.

“That wasn’t so bad now was it?” Suggested Dehlia.

“I guess it really was easier than the first time,” said Amy. It was the most complimentary thing she could think of.

“Now it’s time to get dressed before you get goose bumps. Feet first I think.”

Dehlia took the glistening black suit off the cabinet and smeared more of the lube into the legs, covering as much of the interior as possible. She knelt down and helped Amy step into the bottom of the suit. Amy’s feet fit perfectly into the ‘socks’ of the suit, and her big toe had its own little section. It felt a little tight, but not uncomfortable.

With the benefit of the lube, and Dehlia’s capable hands it was soon up around the tops of Amy’s thighs. Dehlia stood and moved behind Amy, reaching from her rear, as if she were putting the suit on herself. Dehlia’s torso seemed strangely stiff and solid. Amy began to wonder what Dehlia was wearing under her black silk blouse.

The smooth black bodysuit came up around Amy’s waist, and now it was easy because the back of the suit was open. Dehlia paused there, and pressed her fingers to Amy’s crotch. Amy jumped nervously at the first touch, emitting a tiny squeal. Dehlia giggled quietly.

“Sorry if I startled you, but there’s some modesty moulding around here, and it’s got to seat properly or it will hurt when you move,” explained Dehlia so calmly that there was nothing Amy could think of to say in response. Dehlia’s expert probing fingers seated the slightly thickened moulded area over Amy’s outer lips.

Amy thrilled to the touch despite herself. The soft edges of the rubber seemed to fit in the crack between them and her most delicate parts. Amy couldn’t see properly but she got the impression that rather than hiding her sex, it augmented the bulge of her pussy in a way that unsettled her somehow.

“There’s a little hidden slider here in the bottom for your… If you need to use the toilet,” said Dehlia evasively. Amy was quite surprised at Dehlia’s careful evasion. She would have called it an asshole and been done with it.

“I wanted to use a removable slider pull for the best look, but I thought you might have issues with that after the last time. Instead, I used the smallest pull tab I could find,” explained Dehlia, zipping closed the opening that stretched from just below the beginning of the pussy lip mouldings to just about the small of Amy’s back.

Amy was surprised how tight the suit squeezed around her bottom. She’d thought it was tight before, but now she knew the difference. It was a very distracting feeling.

“Does it need to squeeze so tight?” Asked Amy, wriggling her hips slightly, as if that might loosen the fit.

“Yes it does. You’ll soon get used to it. Once the synthetic rubber gets warm it will be very soft and stretchy: it won’t hamper your movement at all,” said Dehlia in a reassuring tone.

If Amy wasn’t convinced, she was at least hoping to be.

“This suit has arms and everything?” Said Amy, hoping for an explanation of why the arms were necessary. It wasn’t forthcoming.

“Yes, we can pull those on now. Let me see,” said Dehlia, straightening out the front of the suit. Amy could feel the warmth of Dehlia pressed tightly against her bare back. Dehlia’s nipples felt huge, and oddly stiff. This couldn’t be turning the other woman on could it? It was probably just the cold.

Dehlia stretched out the first of the shiny black rubber arms on the suit, and now Amy could see that it ended in a fully formed glove. Dehlia spread lube inside the arm. Amy pulled her hand to her shoulder so she could fit it into the hole. Even with Dehlia’s help, it was a struggle to get her arm into its rubber covering.

“Just relax now,” said Dehlia.

Amy did her best. Dehlia eased her fingers into the glove at the end, and with a little wriggling on Amy’s part her fingers seemed to settle into place quite comfortably. Dehlia twisted and pulled at the arm some more, letting it snap back into place, and it began to feel as if it was straight.

Amy felt Dehlia’s hand on her breast, and again she jumped, though not quite as much as before. Dehlia didn’t stop to explain this time, but instead continued to manipulate Amy’s breast so that it settled into place in the front of the suit. Amy struggled to keep her breathing calm.

“Does that feel alright?” Asked Dehlia in a low voice, pushing and squeezing at Amy’s breast again, this time through the rubber of the suit.

“I think I do feel it settling into place,” said Amy hesitantly.

She felt a little foolish answering that way. Amy couldn’t decide whether Dehlia intended to excite her deliberately, or whether any reaction on her part would be a shock to her. It felt safer to assume the latter, and she wasn’t quite sure how to cope with the former. It would be too awful right now. She didn’t want to think about that kind of thing. Amy had never had feeling like these from the touch of another woman before, but she definitely had them now. It wasn’t fair, Dehlia was touching her all over and there was no excuse for making her stop.

“Good, now the other side,” said Dehlia, preparing the other arm.

The second arm was harder at first and easier at the end. They had less room to work with at the beginning, because the suit wasn’t loose on her front. Amy tried to imagine how difficult getting out of the suit would be, especially unassisted. She wasn’t even sure she would be able to get a grip to pull the arms off with the gloves on.

Amy was doing her best to suppress her excitement, but despite her best efforts she could tell she was growing a little flushed in the face.

Dehlia pulled the back of the suit tight and slowly began to close it up. Amy felt her abdomen becoming constrained. As the suit very slowly closed up, she felt it in her chest too. Thankfully, the suit didn’t have a high neck like the dress. Instead, a simple scoop hinted at the beginning of her cleavage at the front and came just below the top of her neck at the back.

Amy adjusted her breasts a little in the front of the suit again. It was a tight fit, very tight, and there was a degree of moulding around the breasts that made them look both natural and gravity defying. It supported her better and more comfortably than any bra she’d ever had. The tightness of the suit did something for her waistline too.

“What do you think?” Said Dehlia, standing back so that Amy could get a good look at herself in the mirror.

“It does make me look good doesn’t it?” Said Amy.

In the mirror, she had the body of a goddess, albeit a black rubber clad one. The look came at a price though. The suit was very tight, and despite Dehlia’s assertions there was no way Amy could stop noticing it. Amy brushed her hand down over her breasts and traced her fingers across her perfectly shaped abdomen. The sensation was curiously muted, especially in her fingers, but all over her body. She couldn’t possibly rid herself of the gloves without removing the entire suit. Amy wasn’t sure she was completely comfortable with the clumsiness and lack of sensation the gloves brought to her fingers. It made her feel a little helpless, and she knew there was almost nothing she could do about it now.

“I think it’s a good fit. No problems there. Shall I help you with the rest of it? It’s all quite simple now,” said Dehlia, who couldn’t control her grinning. Amy grinned back. Something about Dehlia’s emotions was infectious.

“Maybe you’d better help. My fingers don’t feel very dextrous in these gloves. They feel a bit tight too. In fact it all does. Is it supposed to be like that?” Asked Amy nervously.

“Like I said before, it will ease up once it gets warm, and you’ll get used to the tightness after a while. It’ll start to seem quite normal. Really,” said Dehlia.

“But once it’s warm I won’t be able to get it off right?” Said Amy cautiously. She didn’t want to upset Dehlia, after all the trouble she’d gone to.

“Well, not easily, no. Don’t worry about that though. Here, I’ll help you with the dress,” said Dehlia.

The dress that Dehlia held in her arms looked more like red PVC than rubber. Obviously, it was some kind of plastic. It was extremely shiny, with an even higher gloss than the suit, if that were possible. From what Amy could see, apart from the glossy material, it looked like a fairly ordinary strapless cocktail dress with a short ruffled skirt. She stepped into it and Dehlia easily zipped it up at the back somehow. It added something to the tight sensation of the suit, squeezing her waist a little more and adding weight to the covering. The design wasn’t quite what Amy had anticipated though. Instead of coming up over her breasts, it fit tightly beneath them and then stopped short.

“Delicious,” said Dehlia. “You could wear this with anything that covers your top. Don’t you think it’s so versatile?” Amy was at a loss for a reply for a while.

“It’s very pretty, but kind of naughty too don’t you think. I’m sure people can see my nipples through the suit,” said Amy, trying to make a joke of it.

“Oh, not your real nipples, the moulding on the suit shows just enough to tease, but not enough to be rude. Don’t you see?” Said Dehlia.

Amy remained at a loss. She walked around a bit, testing how the very short, ruffled skirt moved with her. It was tolerably immodest without being illegally indecent. She couldn’t fault that. Even if it did show something, all there was to see was the black rubber of the suit.

“I like the skirt,” she said vacantly.

“Oh yes, that reminds me. There are some panties too. Let me see,” said Dehlia. She soon produced an almost normal looking pair of shorts made from thin, slick white rubber. “Here, they should fit easily,” she explained. “They’re just ordinary rubber though: not breathable like the suit.”

Amy stepped into the panties, and pulled them up under the dress. They added a little to the snugness, but it was already so tight down there it was hard to tell. She was beginning to feel a little warm and sweaty under the dress and panties despite the alleged breathability of the suit.

She appreciated how tantalizing the contrastingly coloured panties would look to those people who caught a flash of them under the dress. It was a very clever touch. Amy wasn’t sure she wanted to be quite so daring though.

“There are shoes to match, nothing difficult, here…” Dehlia opened up the first shoe. In fact, it was a thin strapped, air-soled platform sandal with about an inch and a half rise at the toe, rising up to four inches in the heel.

Amy stepped in and Dehlia wound the long red straps around her ankles, fastening a series of tiny buckles at the back of her leg. Amy already had some similar shoes, so she was confident that these would be no trouble. She let Dehlia fit her with the other.

“You should walk around a bit. Get a proper look at yourself in the mirror. I want to see too. I wish I had my camera, you look so good,” said Dehlia with even more than her usual enthusiasm.

“Really?” Said Amy, walking up and down in front of the mirror. Yes, the panties really were heating up inside. Combined with the dress she felt quite comfortable.

“The dress isn’t breathable like the suit: it’s just ordinary plastic. It doesn’t cover up too much, so you shouldn’t get too hot, and the suit should wick away all the moisture and keep you feeling dry anyway,” explained Dehlia.

“Oh, I understand. I think,” said Amy distractedly. Looking at herself in the mirror was provoking some odd sensations, but not as odd as the sensation of moving around in the suit. Yes, it did seem to be becoming easier – not quite so tight. It was all a little too exciting though. Amy was glad the suit was hiding what she was sure would be a huge hot flush across her chest, but it couldn’t hide the look on her face.

“You know, I think I have a camera in the other room somewhere. I was thinking I’d taken them all home, but I might have my little Canon in my bag. I really would love to photograph you in that outfit. Please?” Implored Dehlia, biting her lip, and producing such a youthful childish expression, that Amy had to giggle. Amy wondered if the older woman was really so different from herself.

While Dehlia was away fetching her camera, Amy walked up and down in front of the mirror, looking at the stranger she’d become. Even though the outfit didn’t reveal anything in the way of skin, it was incredibly erotic. Amy wasn’t sure if she’d ever dare to wear something so kinky in public. There would be only one conclusion people would draw.

What Amy didn’t understand was why it was turning her on so much. No matter how she tried to think of dull thoughts, the outfit wouldn’t let her forget it for a second. She so desperately wanted to get herself off. She looked around to make sure that Dehlia hadn’t returned without her noticing, and then she lifted up the short, ruffled skirt and looked at her rubber-encased crotch. Amy got a shock. The wet flood from her pussy had created a huge white slick that stuck the panties translucently to her black under-suit.

Amy turned bright red in an instant. The panties had spread the small amount of moisture all over her crotch, and made what would have been a tiny spot into a great big mark. Of course, the panties were so thin and translucent to begin with that even her sweat was misting them, but she hadn’t really noticed.

Amy pulled the panties down in a panic. No, they weren’t actually glued in place. She looked around hastily for something to dry herself off with, but the only things she could see were her clothes. She grabbed her ordinary cotton briefs and hastily wiped away as much as the thin layer of musky fluid as she could. A noise startled her and she threw the cotton briefs back onto the floor hoping Dehlia would not notice.

Dehlia entered the room to see Amy struggling and pulling her slippery white rubber shorts back up. Amy’s face was as red as a tomato and she looked extremely nervous. She was certain that Dehlia would think she’d been playing with herself, that the outfit had got her hot in that special way.

Dehlia gave her a smile, and that made it all a hundred times worse.

Dehlia nodded, “The shorts are such a perfect finishing touch don’t you think? But I had another idea while I was looking for my camera. Here…” She had two bright red PVC scrunchies in her hand. “Let me just do your hair to match.”

At that point, Amy would have agreed to anything that took attention away from her dripping crotch. “Uh, uh… Sure. Of course,” she heard herself say.

Dehlia gentry removed the barrette that was holding Amy’s hair back and freed her wavy blonde locks.

“You have such lovely soft hair,” said Dehlia. “Mmmm, and it smells so fresh too,” she said as she began to brush out Amy’s hair.

For a moment, Amy felt so childish, letting somebody else brush her hair out. She never felt that way in the hairdresser’s. It wasn’t long before Dehlia had Amy’s hair arranged in two bunches and secured with elastics and the PVC scrunchies that matched her dress perfectly. The schoolgirl look added to her kinky outfit made a powerful combination. Amy couldn’t deny it.

“Now you look just perfect,” said Dehlia. “Absolutely delicious.” She said, stepping back to photograph Amy with her tiny digital camera.

“I’m not sure I ought to be photographed. I’m too embarrassed,” complained Amy. Dehlia would hear none of it.

“Don’t be silly. You’re fantastic: a natural. I wish I could get you to model our clothes. What a catalogue we’d have then. It would be impossible for anyone else to compete… Come on, give me a big smile,” said Dehlia insistently.

Amy just couldn’t seem to say no to her, and her words were always so reassuring for some reason. Amy couldn’t seem to help herself from playing along. She doubted her self-control for a moment, but then the thought was gone.

“Just walk around for me, be natural,” said Dehlia. She was taking quite a few pictures, moving around, crouching down, standing up, getting her shots from every possible angle: all the time saying encouraging things. Amy was almost enjoying it all when it ended, and it was soon over.

“That was a lot of photos wasn’t it?” Asked Amy.

“Oh, not really. I do a lot of photography. I’m lazy though. I just take a lot of shots and hope for one or two good ones. If I only keep one in twenty shots, it doesn’t cost me anything, so why not? It’s not like I’m using film. The lighting in here is pretty terrible anyway. I’ll really be lucky if I get anything I can use,” explained Dehlia.

“I never photograph very well anyway. The camera hates me,” said Amy.

Amy wondered why Dehlia mentioned film. Surely nobody had used real film for years? She wasn’t even sure if you could buy film cameras any more. Maybe it was just a ‘photographer thing’.

“Far from it. I meant what I said. I’d really like to get you to do some proper photographs. I mean I’d pay, and it would all be completely above board. I’d really like to use you for the catalogue. You’d have the final say on any picture before it went it. What do you think?” Said Dehlia in such a rush, that Amy could barely take it all in.

“You really want me to model for you,”

“Oh yes. Yes,” said Dehlia, nodding madly: almost too enthusiastically. It made Amy a little nervous, but it was so hard to say no to Dehlia. Amy really wanted to say no, but she wasn’t sure she could. On top of that, she really could use the money, even if it wasn’t very much – and she was pretty sure it wouldn’t be. After all, Amy wondered who would seriously pay her money for modelling. She was no model. Looking at herself in the mirror again, and remembering Dehlia’s delight, she could almost convince herself it was possible.

“I really don’t think I’d be any good,” said Amy after a few moments pause.

“Oh, but you would. Really. Why don’t you just try?”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try,” said Amy reluctantly.

“Wonderful!” Squealed Dehlia.

She jumped over and hugged Amy with an enthusiasm and energy that Amy would have hardly believed her capable of. Again Amy noticed the funny stiff feeling beneath her blouse.

“What is that you’re wearing?” Said Amy. She felt after that, maybe she had a little mileage due to her and could afford to be a little curious without being rude.

“Oh, can you feel my corset? That’s all it is. Let me show you,” said Dehlia.

“That’s alright,” said Amy. “But why…”

“Look, you’ll see,” said Dehlia, already unfastening the buttons on her blouse from the top down.

Amy had no choice but to watch Dehlia finish removing the delicate black silk garment. Dehlia shrugged off the blouse, catching it in her hand. Amy could now see the better part of an unreasonably tight black corset, finished in black satin in an old fashioned style. Amy noticed that Dehlia’s large and well-formed breasts were supported by a separate brassiere. It didn’t properly hide the twin erections of her large nipples.

“How can you have such a tiny waist?” Said Amy; now realising that she had misjudged Dehlia’s measurements entirely.

Amy thought that she could probably close her hands around Dehlia’s tightly compressed waist. The extremity of its real dimensions had been partly hidden because she didn’t tuck her blouse into her skirt.

“It’s partly the corset of course, but don’t go thinking I’m over the hill. I can manage without it,” said Dehlia with a wry chuckle.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I’ve never seen anything like that before. It’s a little…” Amy couldn’t find a polite enough word.

“Eccentric?” Suggested Dehlia. “Perhaps it is. I just feel good in it. It looks very special, don’t you think?”

“It’s like something from one of those TV costume dramas. Don’t you feel squished or just overdressed?” Said Amy.

“Don’t you?” Said Dehlia. Amy flushed red again. “Of course I do. That’s the idea. It feels good. It feels special, doesn’t it? Isn’t it fun to dress up?”

“I suppose… I suppose it can,” confessed Amy.

“I wonder what something like this would look like on you? Stunning I should think,” said Dehlia.

“It would never fit me,” said Amy.

“No, probably not this one, it takes time to train down to this size waist. Still you could get pretty close, your waist is so tiny to begin with,” said Dehlia.

Amy giggled, “You’re kidding right?”

“Really, you have a great figure,” said Dehlia.

“Did you make the corset too?” Asked Amy.

“Actually, no. Though this was specially made to fit me, the same way your suit was made for you – well, not the same way, but it’s the same idea. Good corsets are almost always made to fit. I suppose I just wondered what you’d look like in one. Wouldn’t you like to dress up in one of those huge Victorian dresses?” Said Dehlia.

“Maybe it could be fun, for fancy dress or something, but I don’t think I would go anywhere that such a thing would be appropriate,” said Amy.

“Maybe for a special party, perhaps Christmas eh?” Laughed Dehlia.

“Maybe,” said Amy with a giggle, relieved that Dehlia wasn’t going to try and talk her into a corset on top of the incredibly tight suit. That would be more than she could bear in a day.

The pause that followed gave Amy time to remember about her shorts, and how hot she felt, and what that might mean.

“You know, I don’t think I’m going to be able to get this suit off,” said Amy. “I feel awfully warm.”

“Uh oh,” said Dehlia. “It’s all my fault. You’re probably right. I should have been paying more attention instead of getting so excited, taking photographs and everything. I’m sorry. I’ll take you to soak it off at my place if you’re worried about being seen in it,” said Dehlia. Then she paused. “Let me check first.”

“Alright,” said Amy weakly. The idea of being stuck in the suit was making her so horny. She couldn’t understand what was wrong with her. Why would she want that? She was a sick person. There was something broken in her head somewhere. She knew that now, so clearly she would never be able to stop thinking of it. It was as if something she’d known all along but had tried to avoid thinking of was on show to everyone in the world. She just wanted to confess and be forgiven for being the bad, bad girl she knew she was. No: that would never happen, because it was an unforgivable crime.

Dehlia put her blouse on top of the nearby filing cabinet and moved around behind Amy again. She reached around her, feeling her arms, pulling at the rubber. Amy shuddered deep inside herself to feel the questing hands touching her all over, caressing, touching, kneading, pinching. She could feel her nipples growing so hard and tight it felt as if they would burst under if it weren’t for the rubber holding them in as Dehlia kneaded at her breasts. She had never really noticed before how much her pussy swelled up when she got excited, but with the tightness of the rubber, she could really feel it happening.

“No,” said Dehlia almost in a whisper. “You can’t get it off. It’s stuck all over the place. Stuck fast.” Her voice grew so quiet that Amy couldn’t be sure she heard her right, “Exciting isn’t it?”

“It just felt so warm,” said Amy. Unsure if she was making a denial.

“I should have thought of that. Silly me. How about down here?” Said Dehlia, lifting up Amy’s skirt before Amy could say anything to stop her. Amy could see that Dehlia was looking over her shoulder down at the translucent white shorts that seemed to be practically awash with wetness.

“It looks worse than it is, really,” whimpered Amy pathetically, her voice full of guilt.

“Don’t worry about that. That’s supposed to happen. Transparent rubber always does that when it gets a little moisture under it,” said Dehlia in such a matter of fact tone that Amy could hardly believe her. She would never dare ask why Dehlia had given her panties that would do such a thing on purpose. Anything that took the blame away from her, anything at all, was welcome.

“Don’t get upset,” said Dehlia in a soothing voice. “Did you think I wouldn’t understand? These are clothes you’re supposed to enjoy. That’s the idea.”

“But…” Stammered Amy.

“But what? It’s not complicated. It just takes a little courage to do the things that everybody else is afraid to do. When people are afraid of something they like to try and justify their fear, they convince themselves there’s something wrong with something that they just don’t understand,” said Dehlia in a sad, quiet voice, as if Amy’s “but” had hurt her.

“I’m sorry,” said Amy. “I didn’t mean…”

“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t think of how you’d feel. Not properly. You seem so strong, and so self assured most of the time. I never thought that anything would embarrass you,” said Dehlia.

Amy couldn’t see how to answer her, and so she kept silent.

“I meant for you to get excited … that way … I thought it would be fun for you. I knew maybe I was going beyond the bounds a little. Can you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I was just over-reacting. I’m really so grateful for everything. I wanted you to do it, maybe even to do more than you did,” said Amy doing her best to manage a smile.

“Thanks. I’d hoped that was true. I really had. So, what do you want to do?  Do you want to take the suit off, or do you want to show it off somewhere more exciting? It’ll soon be Saturday night. Would you really mind if I came out with you? I know you must think of me as a bit old, and I don’t want to be a hindrance to you.” said Dehlia.

Amy knew that she’d upset her somehow, and that to be too eager to remove the suit would be another insult to her. Amy wondered, Dehlia was so nice to her, and her friends were only interested in themselves. Didn’t Dehlia deserve her consideration? It wasn’t like some part of her didn’t want to go along with her idea.

She realised it was true: there was something inside her that really wanted to spend more time with Dehlia. Pretend all she liked, the idea of some kind of sexual experience with her had already crossed her mind. It was so easy to enjoy the sexual feelings when Dehlia was there, ready to take the blame for it all. The same Dehlia that was holding her tight from behind, pressing her big hard nipples into her rubber clad back.

“I think I’d enjoy going out with you,” said Amy.

“Wonderful!” Exclaimed Dehlia. “Let’s see what I can find to wear.”

continues in part four


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If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
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