Scrapbook of Exchange Student in Germany 7 | bondage story

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The winds of the north west dipped the thermometer in the low teens (F) that night. Its howling in the trees, its whistling in the streets, and its rattling of the shutters invited people’s instincts to draw closer to each other in spite of the warmth inside, particularly in bed. Esther and I were no exception. It was about 9 PM, and we had been all day together in bed so demanding was our need of intimacy. Esther, right from the start knew my desire to hear her life story.  She had begun, but still there were many things she had not told, painful areas, and I was hoping that through lots of attention and love she would find the energy and the courage to tell it all. 

Esther, as we know her from my previous Scrapbooks, happens to join fantastic looks with a humble personality and a tremendous sensuality in all its forms, and that is besides other talents. Her healthy and basically joyful disposition, her simple and direct approach to life has served her well. Cautious also, she is not adventurous unless she wants to; she knows her limitations so precisely that her life is a garden that only very few people are allowed into. Brigitte and I are her friends. She has a couple more I am aware of, but how close they are, I have no idea. Unlike Brigitte, she is not a woman after challenge and responsibility. In fact, she is still a teen at heart She also has a good sense of humor, and can be a tease; she loves to tease, and uses humor in all kinds of ways. One of them is to dress in latex publicly, sometimes just for kicks, just to tease people. When I come to visit her, she always does it because she feels safer. Esther is not a jealous or domineering person; she loves and draws by her heart. She has a good artistic sense and her sensuality is deeply connected to it as well. She appreciates music above all, but also painting, architecture, natural beauty, some literature. She has a clean mind, it seems so far, but I cannot explain how she has latched on to rubber in such a way. 

Esther lives in and for rubber, it seems. Although it is confined to her large bedroom, she is in it as soon as and as often as she can. She loves it without any fatigue, it seems, and all her wishes tend to the person who will be patient enough to be with her. She thrives in the being, not so much in the doing. This rare combination of features leads her naturally to the person who understands her and with whom she feels secure to open one room after another of her immense heart and sensuality. She is tireless. There is never too much sex, too much rubber, too many caresses, too much stimulation, and the more she gets, the more she wants. She is like the fire box of a steam engine that draws air and seeks more fuel continuously. Since her sensuality draws from everywhere, if she cannot get satisfaction from one area, she gets it from another; but her fundamental awareness and need for fulfillment begins with genuine love and attention, followed by sex and latex close behind, and often intermingled.

For the three days between the Holidays I have been with her, my goal was to hear her life’s story besides driving her sensuality and heating the furnace between her legs beyond what she had ever imagined., the second being less certain than the first. For myself, Esther is the best friend I have ever had. We understand each other perfectly, and we allow our games to bind our hearts as well, but within reason, because I am eight years younger, and I have a long long way to go with my studies to become the teacher I want to be some day. From Esther’s standpoint, I could live with her from now on; I can feel that nothing would make her feel happier. But she is wise enough to know that the likelihood of this is small; however, she needs so much healing that she is willing to take that risk for the here and now.

There was another side to Esther I only barely knew, and it is her compassion, that part that only pain and suffering matures. I was to find this during these three days in a way I had never imagined, but that explained a lot of things, and how she is able to survive. It also explained why she had such an attachment to me, and where I did fit in.

Day 1

After an afternoon of intense orgasms, I felt that a tight latex corset would somehow squeeze her pleasures to make them last for the night. I knew which one of the half dozen she owns would best fit the situation and brought it by her bed. She was so exhausted that I hesitated asking her to stand up. Still I wanted a comfortable fit for her. There was a hook above the door jamb to the bathroom where I could pass a strap holding her hands up, and I went for two hand cuffs designed for comfort, in latex, of course. 
“My love, I think you could benefit from a shower or a bath. Would you mind if I gave it to you?” 
A couple of moans let me know that she was willing in a couple of minutes. I took that time to flow a bath with bubbles. I had to hold her till she was in the warm water, and I left her there for some time while I straightened out her bed and other things in the room. I also prepared the corset, the handcuffs, the strap, and the gel. 
“Would you mind to wash my hair?” I obliged with pleasure. Esther loved when someone took care of her hair. I took my time, rinsed the heavy curls. After toweling her dry, she sat on the stool while I air dried them while brushing. She looked fabulous when I was done, all naked, her skin was so white that I was almost afraid to rub it too hard with the towels. She loved to see me so amazed at her. All smiles. Then I put the two handcuffs on her wrists.
“What are you doing with this?” she asked.
“I am going to lace a corset on you.”
“You don’t need to cuff me, my love.”
“It’s just to stretch your waist while I lace.”
“OK then !” She agreed with a sigh meaning that she would agree with anything that would get her high. “Ken, don’t make me wait… please !”

She stood up, and I clicked the strap through the cuff rings. She raised her hands standing on the tip of her toes and I could just pass the loop of the strap on the hook. This done, I went for the jell and smeared it on her back, waist and pelvis, from just below her breasts and down. Very erotic feeling according to her moanings.  Then I put some more jell on the rubber inside of the corset. It was a little cold when I wrapped it around her and hooked it in place; next I started the lacing. It went very easily since the jell eased the process and made it real comfortable. After that, I changed my mind about the crotch and inserts, and decided to go ahead with that part also. But to stimulate her own juices I first screwed on her nipples golden clips, not too tight, but firm enough to arouse her real good. She was moaning with visceral delight. Then I prepared the electrical inserts, clipped them on the crotch belt, and put jell on the entire contraption.  I brought the bathroom stool for her to put one foot on. That gave me access and made it possible for the crotch piece to be put in place. She was dripping with love juice already. Her moaning called for me, for attention, for special handling. Light touches on her swollen breasts heated her sensuality effectively; caresses from there up her shoulders and her arms enlarged these erogenous zones even more. Then I took a massage vibrator, put it on its lowest setting and  passed it over the corset in various places; since it was tight, the echoes of these vibrations aroused the sensitivity of anything contained in that constraining garment ten fold. 

That was the moment I chose to hook the crotch piece to the front of her corset, and slowly introduce the front dildo. I went very slowly, in stages, as her  large clitoris hardened like a small horn. Very delicately I gave it also extremely light touches that drove her insane with lust. I could not do it too long since her legs were tiring. I promised myself I would open the front of the crotch piece later on and continue. Then came the short dildo that was perforated in the middle if an enema was to be done. For the moment I just capped that entrance. As it was of small size, it went in without difficulty and must not have been too stressful to keep it in. Next, I stretched the crotch piece to the back of the corset, secured it there and put her leg on the stool back on the ground. I unhooked the strap holding her hands and gave her a moment to recover her balance.
“Open your legs apart, darling.” She obliged. 

I took that second to stretch further the crotch belt to the buckle at the back of the corset until it was real firm. Then I unclipped her tits and some pain returned momentarily. For everything to fit and find its place we took a few steps together. She enjoyed that immensely, especially the leaning on me. We went back and forth through the apartment. After a quick wiping off of the jell here and there, I led her to the bed once more and laid her there. Before covering her, I connected the dildos to the cable of the control panel that was sitting on the night table. I also took the opportunity to massage her breasts with that sensitizing cream once more so that they would remain ultra erotic all night.

Esther loved to be pampered, desired, cherished. The more I would fuss about with her, the happier she was. She was doing this all week in her nursing profession, and I am sure it felt nice to have someone do that to her. But she was not spoiled, always content and appreciative no matter what, even if what I did to her was not what she would have preferred. I already knew that she loved that corset, because some time ago, when she showed me her things, she seemed most excited about it. So, I did gather that she would be happy with it. A lot remained to be proven still.
Esther felt relaxed, very fulfilled in that bed, and I felt that after all that she would find it in her heart to tell me the rest of her story. But it was not to be, she said that her thoughts were disconnected, and it made sense. So I told my curiosity to wait for another day, and look after her.  However, she had enough energy and presence of mind to want to make me happy.

“Now that you have corseted, plugged and connected me, what can I do to make you happy?”
“Esther, I am happy; I love to take care of you, but if you want me to be happiest, talk to me, tell me all that goes through your mind. Tell me what you think of rubber, of me, of your future, of your life, of your hopes, whatever it is. Even your silence is interesting. You see, Esther, you are my friend and all of me needs to hear you, to feel you, to touch you, to hug you, and to receive the same from you. I long for you and I to feel like one and the same being.” 
I had never talked like that, and I was surprised at myself to finally admit that it was really true. Esther was my woman, my extension.
The next thing I knew was a long long kiss, so passionate and tireless that I wondered where she had all this energy.
“Ken, in my closet, there is a pink baby doll with under pants and a bonnet. Go and fetch it, I want to baby you to death.” I did this, laid the garments on the bed by her. But I also had taken some different nipple clips with me, just in case.
“Get the jell, please !” She generously filled the pants with jell. It was difficult for her, laying down and with the rigidity of the corset. Still she wanted to do this for me.
“Put them on!” So I did. It was so slippery that I had a hard-on in a few seconds. The coldness of the material added to the excitement.
“Pass on the top !” that was an experience of incredible eroticism, The latex material was so soft and sexy, that I could hardly hold myself.
“Sit down next to me ! She put on the bonnet on my head and tied the laces in front.
“Now shut all the lights but the few candles, and come and lay next to me.” I was barely alongside of her with the latex top sheet and the bed spread on top of us that she turned on her side, and with her right hand went at my almost bursting member. I moaned like a wounded animal; it felt unbelievably good. That was also exciting her to no end. 

In a moment of relapse, my left hand got to the electrical controls of her inserts, and I began with the vibrator of the vaginal dildo. It was a very weak vibration, almost imperceptible but very much there, something that would begin to drive her slowly to heights of eroticism that she had not yet imagined, I was sure.
That insert had a special bulge that was pressing on her G-spot, and a very long, narrower and flexible end that extended all the way to the cervix. It was also  studded with knobs that could give electrical impulses, from barely perceptible ones to shocks. The control box also had preprogrammed synchronized sequences for both inserts, from “innocent” to “pervert XXX” lasting from fifteen minutes to hours. These sequences were in sections and could be intermingled as well. The options were endless. Some of the stimulations went from the tip to the heel of the dildo, others from the heel to the tip in slow or quicker successions; others yet went to all the knobs on and off at certain sequences, but with more voltage in certain areas than in others depending on what one desired and the time available. There were teasing programs that would never bring the “patient” to orgasm, but only to wild desires. Other programs were so powerful that one could not possibly resist the most gut wrenching orgasm imaginable with many to follow. The best results were obtained with somebody along who could work with the program and enhance its stimulations through caresses and massages, through other stimulation of erogenous zones or by blinding or masking the face of the corseted woman. Then there was a punishment section in the instruction manual, that showed how this could be achieved with stunning effectiveness through shocks, enemas, and (harmless) spankings. That was very interesting. When I was reading this, I wondered what Esther had already known.
After a while, I called on the program that sent electrical pulsation through the knobs, from the heel of the dildo to the tip. The sequence was rather slow and would cause an expectation that would be quite frustrating after a certain time, because Esther would certainly want to be brought over the top. But I had other ideas for that time.

Esther soon lost her thinking ability (as expected), she went after my manhood  and loved it. Her handling of me made less and less sense since she felt more and more like a huge vagina in heat wanting to suck on a huge throbbing penis. But the room was already taken, and that replacement was not performing to satisfy her sexual hunger, which hunger was growing by the minute. At that moment I clipped her nipples. She moaned and wiggled in all that rubber material.
“What are you doing to me, Ken, I want to fly… but you hold me down… I can’t take it.”
“Sure, you can ! you will come when your time is ripe; but it is not for now…” Her orgasm would not come easily because the corset was holding her womb tight, and slowing down the release of her pleasure through like toothpaste out of a tube; I also knew that when break through orgasms would take place, they too would be all the more intense and particularly long and impossible to stop.
The next thing was the mask again. Blindness would enhance the awareness of her feelings five fold. At the end, the only thing that would connect her to me was her hand on my manhood, and that was one of her preferred positions.

As time went on, I started the anal plug in very much the same way as the other, but then I dialed the program called “Smoldering fire” which, after about half an hour would switch to “For ever high”. That last one was still very mild compared to “Roller Coaster” or “Fuck me hard”, or “Forest fire”.

From time to time I would release the nipple clips, and that would cause another crisis on top of an already bad one. After the program switched to “For ever high”, I got a balloon gag, for I knew she would wake up the entire apartment complex without it. It was the last moment, for the first contractions began, not too hard, but very much there and enjoyable to her for a very long time. “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmphggg !!!!!
According to the manual, she would go through three or four stages until perfect bliss would set in. The corset acted like a restrictive sleeve to explosive orgasms. But at that last stage, any touch, any stimulation from any source would act as a body-size orgasmic delight yet without the contractions. This stage of euphoria could last many hours, and be revived along the way, however the emotional state of the woman needed extreme attention and care. How would Esther react to this, how would she understand it? I was taking a chance, but felt confident in that situation. 
I also felt that when she would be in that stage, she would let go of the things in her life that she could not tell, because she would feel me as a trustworthy dominant friend; she needed that extra push. What better way to do it than through tender loving care in that painful area of her soul.

She would go to sleep from time to time, but wake up when a new level of erotic stimulation brought her further on. By five AM or so, very gently, I detached the front hook of the crotch piece and applied a blob of jell to my now rubber gloved right hand. I felt my way very slowly to her super excited and hard clitoris. Hers, as already mentioned, was large, over an inch long. That was helping a lot in her sexual activities because when she wore latex underwear, which was most of the time, it was in constant contact with the sensual material. How many times, she would love to sit on my leg and rub her crotch ! Her large clitoris was a blessing to her. Little by little I began to perceive the vibrations of the dildos, and it was not difficult to imagine that these were also felt by anything tightly held in that area. When I lightly touched her clitoris, she hit the ceiling with pleasure. So, I made it a point to give it my full attention in the softest and most creative manner. It brought her higher and faster to her orgasmic nirvanas, and enhanced the colors of them many times over. 

She was in that fourth stage, erotically stimulated one could not be more, but detached from reality, bathing in a kind of lust that was not demanding, because it was both satisfied and renewed by the ever present and all encompassing presence of latex. She was flying in a never never land where all is loving, secure, sensual, erotic, sexual and restful, a world without stress or questions, a world with pleasure only. This was Esther, at long last, a woman I had wanted so bad in such a state for quite some time. I could feel she was in me and knew it; more than that she wanted it, and had tried for a long time to reach this place. It meant that she had cooperated all along too, independently of me also when she purchased that particular corset. For a woman to allow a man entrance into her very core remains an honor.

Day 2

As the morning light came, I untied the gag, opened the mask and gave her sweet kisses all over. Then I washed her face with hot water, her breasts… oh, she loved that so much. She was in nirvana, her eyes half closed, listless, without any wants. I just left her there, and started some very sweet and romantic music.  We both knew that the roof of our sexuality had been raised four stories higher.

It was about ten AM, around a cup of coffee that she asked me to lay on the sofa where she laid on top of me, her head on my heart.
“I want to tell you the rest of my life.” The tone of her voice was decided, and nothing would be stopping her now; she had the energy, the confidence, the acceptance for that very difficult and painful story. I also could understand why it did not happen before. Esther needed me in her core, in her womb, in her sex, in her breasts, in her mouth. There was a feeling of mutuality the likes of which I had never anticipated nor experienced. That was the vulnerability the book was talking about; so I knew that this ground was now holy, and that I should be most careful.
She was still in her corset without the crotch belt. Over it she had put on a full length latex jelliba she had designed in wine color with accents of gold, lots of rubber. It was another stunning fashion too long to describe here. Esther loved fashions with lots of material, that was her preference.

“Are you feeling comfortable?” I asked her softly. She raised her head with longing eyes,
“You will never feel what I do now.” She answered with a low voice that came from way deep down. “I am in a state where there is like a dam full of erotic love that passes through my entire body, non stop… I hope it never does… I want more and more, and still more…”

“I did not tell you everything about my dad, of course. In our home, in the apartment just below, there lived his sister, a woman who was the opposite of him. She was all the time checking our comings and goings, she was snooping into everything. There was a lot of secretive things about her. It took me years to begin to figure out even the start of all of this. She was the first of a string of people we had to discover little by little. First of all, you cannot understand what it means, Ken, my grandfather was a nazi, a SS to be accurate. He was decorated, quite high in the system. But when the war was lost, he was called to give account of what he did, and he could not sustain the pressure of this. Due to the hunger and other health conditions, he died prematurely leaving his family with four orphans, my dad, that aunt, and two other aunts who live in Munich. But where it gets complicated, my grandfather’s friends were afraid that his children would talk. In fact, they suspected that there would be foul play, and that they would be ratted on. But my grandfather was careful, and had not told any of his children, but for one of his daughters, that aunt. She had all the names memorized, the events documented, etc. It was all in a vault nobody knew where, and she was waiting for her opportunity to avenge her father. It is a real post war movie. You get me?

She was talking faster and faster, just as if someone was going to arrest her, and she had just a few minutes to pass on information. She was so intense that I could not recognize Esther.
“Stop a minute, Esther ! Is your aunt still alive?”
“No, she died last year.”
“So what happened to all these files, these proofs in the vault?”
“I am the only one who knows where they are.”
“Now, come on, Esther, how many of these people involved are still alive? We are in 1997.”
“You won’t believe this; out of the fifteen people implicated, still ten are alive, and healthy for most.”
“So, what’s the deal?”
“Some know that I have access, and I am scared out of my mind.”
“Is Esther your real name?”
“No it isn’t.”
“How can you have false identifications?”
“Well, remember, my dad was in the police department, and they have ways.”

“OK, Esther, alias Esther, - you will always be Esther for me –  I don’t care what is your true name…”
“Forget about this, Ken. I told you that because I am coming to the point where I can’t take it any longer.”
“Wait for a moment, Esther. Are you in danger?”
She looked to the ceiling for a moment, her eyes in the distance. She seemed to carry a pain of great intensity. “As long as they do not find me, I am okay.”
“And if they do?”
“Well, they must not.”
“Is Brigitte aware of this?”
“Very partially only.”
“I fail to understand a lot of things, Esther.”
“I can imagine, Ken, you know me as a person, but you do not know what my family is into.”

“Is that important at this point?”
“Yes, it is, because that documentation is still there, and there are several families who want it gone.”
“I know that the cases against Nazis are still alive, but these men have lived a life time now, and what would that mean to you to rat on them?”
“The secret is worth a lot of money, and I am afraid that they will want my life rather than pay. They are former SS, you know.”
“Do you have any lawyer who knows about this?”
“No, I could never afford this, and the protection I would need after that.”

At the moment I was stumped. I did not know where she was going with all of this. Yes, I wanted to know her story, but it seems that Esther had other plans.
”You want to tell me that fifty two years after that war, you still have nazi groups that could be tried and imprisoned for their crimes?”
“The German people has kept a very low profile for all these years; it is for a reason, you know.”
I did not want to interfere too much, look too nosy, but I felt that I could open up a new alley to her life story. She was silent now, in some sort of a daze. Was she telling the truth? I could not really know. It just felt strange to be friend to a young woman who could disappear at any moment through the work of a hit man.
“Are you safe here, in Hamburg?” I asked, just because I had nothing else to say.
“Yes, as safe as I can hope to be anywhere in Germany. They all think I am living in Hannover.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes, of course!”
“Why then do you go out in public wearing rubber fashion which is drawing the attention on you like a blimp on Sunday ?”

She stirred, obviously ill at ease with my remark. I had hit a sensitivity point, very private, very personal, and she felt embarrassed. So I continued.
“Would you mind telling me the entire story of your coming to know rubber, of your attraction to it until today?”  I knew that more would unravel, because something was telling me that rubber was not a new thing in her home.
“Yes, I will, but before that, my pussy needs loving attention. Ken… I am dying. I neeeed you so bad… please, I have to cum, lick me there, please, it’s urgent…
I took off her jelliba; her love juices were running everywhere, a flood as usual. I protected the sofa with the jelliba on top, laid her on it, wiped her legs with a paper towel, and went for her labia that I loved licking till she got totally insane. This time I also took the dildo because I was not going to erect soon after that incredible night. She went into a wild orgasm, and I had to stuff the paper towel into her mouth to keep her screams from waking up the neighbors. What I loved most was to lick her clitoris, to suck on it until she could not cry anymore but convulse only. I could keep her there for long periods of time until she got so drained that she would almost faint. But then, as she recovered, her lusty drives would overpower anything else. The only way out was a shock, which I gave her with a towel soaked with cold water. At that point she was thankful. She was resting in some kind of a daze while I brewed a fresh cup of cappuccino. That also helped her a lot to recover and come to some sort of reality. 

The weather was windy and cold, but the snow had stopped. The streets were empty. It was unwelcoming as can be. Still I felt that a few minutes outside would reset her clocks, so I brought plenty of latex underwear : garter belt, stockings briefs girdle on top of that, bra, camisole, a long sleeve shirt with high collar, a floor length skirt, a wind breaker and her cape. She did not fight anything, just obliged my ministrations. I zipped myself in my rain gear, and off we went for a walk, like two stray cats in fowl weather. She could not think nor talk, she just followed. I had taken a little flask of Cointreau with me because I knew that she would need it at some point. She allowed me to pass my arm around her shoulders, or her waist depending. Her cape did not allow her arms out, not even her hands. In a sense she was quite limited. We went to a park. There was nobody there, and the sight of barren trees and bushes, melting snow, puddles everywhere was quite in our element but for the cold. She shivered at that moment, and I knew that we had to turn back, for it was not going to get any better. I put the flask to her shivering lips, and she drank a little bit of the liquor, letting it in with delight. After the fourth sip, I could already see that she was going to be rather silly if I let her go on. So, I  took one sip also and put the flask away. Well , she got silly indeed and began to laugh, and laugh, I could not stop her. At one point she said:
“I want to be in your suit, and you take my cape.” So we did that; she looked rather bulky in it and her face disproportionately small. But who cares. She helped me in her cape, put the tight hood on my head and tied the strings. 
“Now, my little boy, you must obey mommy; let’s go home. There I will check on your little willy, and if I like what I see, we will do something about it…” 
She was hysterical.
“What will you do?” I asked her.
“Oh, that’s a surprise, you know, only for boys who are perfect and sweet.” She was silly, obviously on the verge of loosing it.
“We are going into your apartment house, Esther. Be reasonable at least until we get into your apartment. OK? I don’t want all the neighbors to see us like that.”
She looked at me as if I was speaking Greek. I did not elaborate, and started climbing the steps real fast, dragging her behind me.
“Not so fast, Ken, not so fast!” She was not too loud, and I was pretty sure that if someone would open their front door, we would be gone already.

I undressed her down to her birthday suit, spread talcum powder all over her, put a lovely pink latex nightgown on her, brought her to bed. There, I took a chance with the high sensitivity cream, and lubed her clitoris and pubic area, knowing that in short order she was going to have many orgasms. She enjoyed my attention so much. I also decided to put her nipple clips on, the soft kind, that just entice without hurting. She was moaning already when I covered her with the bed spread.
“Sleep if you can. When I have put everything away, I shall join you. She did not mind. The cold wind had taken away her remaining strength, and the liquor... and now her sex, her lust would use what was left of it.

As I was putting things in order, cleaning rubber garments, powdering others to put them away, cleaning up the kitchen and preparing for the evening and the night, Esther was moaning away, twisting at times, in another world where her tremendous libido could find all the stimulation, all the erotic absorption, embrace, capture she could possibly dream of. Finally, after putting on some latex brief with a sheath and elbow length rubber gloves, I slipped into the bed alongside Esther. My presence fulfilled her wants, and she collapsed, convulsing, twisting, desperate. It seemed that none of her orgasms were sufficient to bring her to satiety, and I was not about to do anything along this line. The longer she could remain there, the better. I wanted her vulnerable, ultra sensitive, desperate, constantly orgasmic, wanting, hungry; I wanted to enslave her to rubber like never before, to a point where she could not possibly get out of it, she would not have the will power. I wanted to bring the demands of her sex to culminate everything else in her mind and soul, and then focus her mind to one single word that would in the future trigger all her energies into that direction, at any time. That word would be “to dive”, or “tauchen” in German. A common word that with particles can mean so many things. That word would definitely keep her night and day in a state of want where she would dream of “diving” into latex to try to assuage the urgings of her lust. She would visualize lubricated dildos plunging into her soppy wet vagina, she would dream of masks with a latex balloon gag locking her into quiet and blind submission, she would dream of my fingers plunging between her legs and toying with her erect clit. She would dream of plunging into a world of a million colors where she is loved, cherished, wanted, cared for, safe, a haven of sensuality with no end in sight. Yes, I would use that word over and over again, until it became our turn-on word. It has a good sound to it, rubbery.

We laid there, and she went to sleep. After an hour, she woke up suddenly, very agitated, twisting in all directions, a huge orgasm was coming over her, grabbing more that she could supply. She took me with her arms, but the nipple clips rubbing on my body caused more erotic stimulation, so she let go of me, and turning away, the latex sheet grabbed at the clips again causing stretch and more excitement to deal with. It was just wonderful to see her in that rubber trap where she could not get out although she wanted to and did not want to at the same time. I wanted to see what she would do. Just watching her brought a huge erection to me also. Between two contractions, she noticed it, and in one second she was sitting on top of me stuffing my member into her thirsty vagina and pumping all she was worth. The latex sheath insulated some of the abrasiveness of nature, and I could remain erect for a much longer time… to her delight. Each time she would press my penis into her, I would tell her, “plunge into me, plunge into me!” That would drive her energies to a peak. That was the right word, indeed.

Once more her orgasms sent her to the ceiling, and I with her, at least for the first one. Then she just begged and begged until there was no strength left in her. I understood that it came from the sensitizing cream I had spread all over her yesterday and today also. Any little thing made her feel erotic to no end. In fact, today, I again had massaged her nipples and her tender tissues with it, and it came to me why she was so unsatisfied. Well, she needed sleep but she was too excited. A glass of port might do the trick, with a piece of chocolate. She downed two glasses in less than a minute and within a little while was sleeping, totally unconscious. I got up and went on straightening out everything in the house. Esther would not wake up for a long time now.  I went to watch TV, and spotted a dozen videos about latex. I picked one out and played it. Still it was not as much fun as if she had been with me. A video is not a person, by a long shot. 

I was wondering what Brunhilde was about at that hour, Krista, Brigitte, Erika, and a number of friends I had met at the shop over the past weeks. I wondered also about all these girls from school who now prepared the fashion show for the next school dance. But I am so glad not to be part of this. Such a trail of gorgeous people in such a short time! It seemed almost unfair considering so many men who would just die to have one girl friend in latex. I had a number of them, too many, in fact. I had invitations for January to concerts, theatre, dinners, all from women. Brunhilde is preparing a fashion tour in Germany for March, and she wants me to accompany her. I have not proposed to her designing a latex fashion line. I am sure she is thinking about it, but at this time it still is too kinky. It might ruin her reputation. Mr. Schulz would like me to go to a big Fetish event where he will be representing his store; I have no desire for it. That would take a lot to make me go to this. I was wondering whom could I suggest as a replacement. I already have fifteen measuring appointments in the second week of January, all of them women, referred by those I had dealt with; I am sure they also wanted special services.

Mr. Schulz had also thought of enlarging these services, but when he talked to me about it, I was not happy, because I felt that it was better to stick with the core of his business that is more commercial. He is reconsidering.
I also have a lot of studies to do, and since I would like to stay another year in Hamburg, I must get good grades. As I was thinking about all of this, I felt that it would be best to keep a regular but small presence at my landlady’s apartment. Many times I was feeling like abusing, because I loved to stay in her living room since my room is so small. I need to talk to her about it, because I want her to let me know exactly how she feels. Still, beyond mid January, I don’t know if I want to keep my job at Mr. Schulz’, because of school pressure. He will be sad, I know, but it has been a factor almost impossible to manage in my spare time. In fact it invaded my life practically. I shall talk to him. 
That moment of quietness was really valuable to me. From time to time I went to see how Esther was doing. She had been sleeping motionless for now two hours.

Day 3

It was 9 AM when Esther woke up, The last day together. I was flowing a bath for her. She arrived in the bathroom buck naked, and stepped in the tub.
“Thank you, Ken. I had such a good night sleep, I feel refreshed and calmer.”
From there I went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I knew she would devour everything in sight. Half hour later, she was sitting on a chair, dressed in her pink latex peignoir, her hair turbaned in a towel. She looked so sensual, it was maddening. I had to struggle not to undress her and grab her breasts. She noticed something because she gave me a side glance of understanding. We ate, and ate, and ate.
“Now, Esther, I want the rest of your life story, please. You need to let it out, because it is killing you.”
“Where were we, I can’t remember.”
“I asked you why you dress in rubber, go in public with it, since you have to keep a low profile.”

She again reacted with uneasiness, looking at her feet. Her face had fallen again. This time I was not going to let it pass.
“Who else, Esther, knows what you know you should tell me?”
“Nobody, Ken, nobody…”
“it is killing you, and you have to come out with it.”
She was hesitating, not sure, weighing the odds. She was visibly nervous. After a couple of minutes she answered,
“I don’t know if I can trust you, Ken, because … because… I might loose you… when you understand this.”
“Let’s just begin with your rubber love, and you can decide about the rest.. OK?”
She must have known that the stories were too intertwined to prevent questions. Finally, she took the plunge.

“I will tell you about my rubber story, but I forbid you to ask questions, I mean it ; too much is at stake.” She waited for a moment, sorting in her mind where to begin. “You know Mr. Schulz, of course. Well, his father was in the Navy, and he also know quite a bit, and if you would get some information out of me, that would put a lot of people in trouble. 
“You still did not told me how you got to like rubber so much.” I softly asked.
“That’s in the family. My dad was in it, my mom also to some degree, and all my siblings also. It must have started with the rubber coats from the second world war, the rubber boots my parents had for all shoes, and that for years, and also for all the rubber and latex items of the fifties and sixties that were commonly used in the household. My mom had bought quite a few aprons, raincoats, sheets, etc. because we were afraid of an Eastern occupation. So much waterproof materials were common things in our home. I discovered rubber one day we were on a hike and got caught in the rain. We stopped in a barn, and rested in the hay stack. There, I was so cold that I wrapped myself in the rubber lined coat of my dad. After a while, the warmth of the hay made the coat to smell sweet, and it awoke for the first time my sexual urges to bind them to rubber. I was twelve years old. Ever since, I insisted by my mother to buy for me everything that could be in rubber. There was something of an understanding between us about it. As I moved to Hamburg, I saw an ad about a latex garment store. It was a total shock to me. You can understand. That was when my aunt was about to die, and she told me everything. To my dismay, she mentioned the name of Mr. Schulz’ father. I made the linkage. He did not know me. So I stayed away from his store.”

“There is no question that he knows an awful lot about his customers in this business,” I offered.
“That also explains why you have been hired. You are totally clean in your background.”
“So, it means that I could be his dream because of you?”
“Exactly… He hopes that one day you will bring me to him because he knows of our family rubber habits; my siblings buy from him by mail. There is nothing you can do about it, except to steer at a prudent distance from him. He is smart, he has connections, and I don’t want you to be hurt or drawn into this mess.”
“That throws some cold water into this situation.”
“I was afraid of that, “mein Schatz””.
“It is not you, but all these men who are after money with their information.”

“One thing you can do, is to keep the names and addresses of all the women and men who invite you, offer you things, because they could very much be looking for information. If you give me that list of names I will be able to tell you those to avoid.”
“Yes, I have fifteen of them to measure in early January. I’ll do that.”
“And how about all the others before now… I want to stop you while it is time, because there could be danger.”
“Esther, just don’t blame me for this remark but it begs for its asking. Where do you stand with me? What is your purpose? And still, why do you walk in public all dressed in rubber?
She wiped a few tears. “I know I cannot prove anything to you, Ken, but you are the only person I can trust. I mean it. I hang on you as a savior to get me out of this; it sounds crazy, but I just dream like a teen-ager that you will take me away in a submarine and that we shall settle on a beautiful island and stay there for ever. It sounds crazy, but you mean happiness, joy, love, everything I want to escape this awful situation. My purpose? I hope to marry. But who wants me with this baggage? So, I counter react with my rubber craze. That’s all. I can’t bear this pressure any longer, it’s getting the best of me. It eats me up slowly, Ken, can you understand? I escape in sex, but I have to do it discretely, very much so, and here you are.”

I could not buy all of that. It was so sketchy, so big. I had to think about it, write it up, work through it, because it did not make much sense anyway. I could not see how our friendship could endanger her, but if Schulz was involved somehow, it was time to sail in the distance. Fortunately, he had competition. But what about Brigitte who told me to listen to Esther?
“Tell me, Esther, where is Brigitte in all of this?” She reacted nervously.
“What… why do you ask me?”
“She is the one who told me to ask for your life story.” I told Esther with a quizzing look.
Esther was confused now. She apparently did not know for sure where Brigitte stood. “Look, Ken, forget all I told you. It is best you tell Brigitte I have not told you anything. I don’t want you to be dragged into this. I want you to be happy with her and her family; that’s all that is important.’”

I stayed quiet for a few minutes, reflecting on what Esther had told me. So many pieces were missing.
“Look, Esther, all I know about you is wonderful. All that sad stuff I have to put aside because it would distract me from my reasons for being here”.
I knew that things were too perfect. Life never makes things without its waves and fogs. I decided to shake it all off, but it left me very lonely as a matter of fact, because I love Esther. Still, if that has to go, it will…
“Ken, thank you for saying that. Don’t let any cloud in our relationship. I truly care for you, I love you.”
“So do I. Admit that it is a big stone in my pond. I have to adjust to it.”
“Then, let’s go for a walk, and it will somehow adjust itself. We shall go to watch a movies also.”

We dressed up. Rubber, of course, I a girl, with all the trimmings. I guess it was part of the decoy. We went in the woods. I could not prevent from looking over my shoulder from time to time. Nobody was following us, and we finally ended up taking a street car that led us to the movie house. There, in the darkness, Esther leaned her head on my shoulder.  She was weeping, and the romantic movie did not help a lot. I just sat there rubbing her hand. I knew she was in danger, and although I did not want to get involved, something was telling me that the time would come I would have to rescue her. In fact the feeling was so strong that I was afraid of getting into something way above my neck.
I could visualize detectives, secret police, NATO, and some obscure underground connection revealing a bunch of ultra-right eagles’ nests leading to a network of terrorists, bank accounts… I did not feel like Rambo. 
Still, Mr. Schulz was not the same person to me now, and who else, I had no idea. The ex of Brigitte ? …
I lost track of the movie until Esther all of a sudden grabbed me by the neck and hid her face against my chest. “Ken!” she almost screamed. I noticed the head of soldier with blood all over his face. He was not such a mess after all, but she must have recognized somebody in this actor. She began to sob… I comforted her the best I could and whispered into her ear. I looked like a girl and I could not speak loud and remain decent in my own eyes. A minute or two later, she got hold of herself and attempted to link into the story. Still she was elsewhere riding on top of the images. Something much more serious had taken place in her and that would have to be sorted out. We did not have much time since she had to begin working in the AM. Since I was on holiday, I decided to go back home at the time she left for work. That would leave us the night to talk yet.

Out of the movie house, she was absent minded. The lights of the street were on, and we were soon shining in the rain like Marsians. We walked from neighborhood to neighborhood, silently. The fresh air was good for her. As were walking along a park, Esther pulled me into it. There was not a soul to be seen, on the road, nor there. We walked in the mud, on some snow left there, and then in some sort of summer gazebo behind bushes; she sat on a bench there. The temperature was cold, our rubber outfits felt cold, but it could have been worse.
“I want you to know, Ken, that I love you more than I have loved anyone.” She looked at me, searching my heart through my gaze. “There is not a moment I am not dreaming about you… you understand?” She was afraid, her lips were trembling. I looked at her face; I could barely see it by the light of passing vehicles. She was afraid of my leaving her after what I had heard, in fact she was terrified and so was I. I did not want to fix myself on her now because I was barely eighteen. 

“Ken, we are eight years apart… it is a lot for you, not so much for me… you understand?” She grabbed my face to look at me with passion. “In five months you are going back to Denver…” she was now crying. I held her sweet body all enclosed in multi-layers of latex. Her sorrow and fear had to pass some. “Forgive me” she sobbed, “I am silly”. I allowed the words to be echoed with silence.
“No, you are not,” I replied; “you have every reason to be afraid because you are not safe.” My heart was aching to see her in such a condition. Let me ask you a couple of questions, Esther” I continued, “do you mind?”
“No, go ahead” she murmured.
“Is Mr. Schulz aware of you here?” 
“No, he is not.”
“Does he know you by sight under your right name?”
“No, he does not!”
“So, he is not a threat.”
“He could be if he met one of this group who has a picture of me when I was fourteen.”
“You need to be careful, I can see… Is he the one who threatens you the most?”
“No, if they knew I lived here, I would not have twenty-four hours.” She was trembling.

“Forgive me to ask. What is Brigitte in all of this? She and Mr. Schulz know each other.”
“Brigitte is a dear friend. She knows I am threatened, and she does what she can to keep Mr. Schulz away from these involvements.”
“Is he listening to her?”
“More now than before.”
“Now explain to me how you two got so much rubber stuff. You have a fortune of things.”
“When I came here five years ago, I met Brigitte on a rainy day. We both were wearing latex raincoats. We almost died laughing when we noticed it.” Esther had a smile again. :”I asked her where she purchased her things. When she told me from whom, I had no other choice than to tell her about my situation because I need rubber, you see.”
“Well, you could have bought it from England, no?”
“True, but customs get involved, identity, cross checking, etc., and I don’t want to be officially on the forefront. As little as I can. I have no credit card, no bank account, just the bare minimum to exist. My rent is paid by someone else. I don’t drive either.”
“Still, how did you get into so many beautiful things?”
“Brigitte knows of someone who makes clothes, and we buy cash from her and the prices are much lower. I also have learnt to make rubber things, simple things.”
“But you have been at the Schulz’ store, have you not?”
“Yes, I have… it was foolish of me, but I have been there, twice… once you were there…I shall never go again.” She wanted to say something .”The first time he was not in the store, but the second time he was. I did my best to keep busy, and he did not pay attention to me that much.”

We kept silent for some time, letting the rain drops plop on our rubber outfits.
My hands were beginning to be cold, my feet too. Still I wanted to know more about this.

“Tell me of the rubber seamstress.”
“Her name is Hildegard. She is almost forty years old, widowed, with one daughter of seventeen years old.” She mused, “her name is Gretta. She lives in an apartment in Poppenbuetel, not far from here, just along the Alster river. She is quite a seamstress. She does not sell to Mr. Schulz’ store, because she costs too much. She is a fashion artist.”
“Is she connected to your family situation?”
“No, not that I know of.”
“How did you get to know her?”
“I took care of her husband when he had cancer.” She murmured. “It was a difficult end, and we both were exhausted. Since then we have been friends. She has the same need for rubber as I have, and few good men can put up with that. So she has not remarried yet.”
“Does she also know of your situation?”
“No, she does not, although she knows I have to keep a low profile. She respects that.”
“Let’s walk home. I am freezing here.”

We arrived at the crossing and saw a bus with the right number. We jumped on board. I paid the fare, and five minutes later we were near Esther’s apartment. The driver could barely keep the bus on the road because he was all the time looking at us through his mirror. I placed myself in such a way that he could not see Esther’s face, although there was not much to see under the hood of her cape.
We climbed the stairs, and walked in, ready for some food, and for bed.
I fixed a soup of sorts, and boiled some potatoes and carrots, got a couple of wieners out of the refrigerator and had all of it fixed when Esther walked out of the bathroom after a long hot shower, dressed in the pink baby doll she likes so much. She was more sexy than sexy. She sat at the table with grace, and honored the food as if it was a feast. A little red wine on top, just made it perfect. After that, she went to the bedroom to get everything like she wanted it while I cleaned the kitchen. Then, I got rid of all of these women clothes and went to her in a small underwear. She needed me just like that for a change.
Hugging for dear life, she was looking at my face from time to time, just to make sure I was there for her.
“Ken, my Ken” she would mutter, completely lost in a daze.

I wanted to give her strength, hope, something to give her joy. I could not imagine the weight of fear on her. Holding all this information without being able to share must be very painful. 
“Esther, I will never know the stress you have to live with, but I am here to help you the best I know.” Her eyes got wet.
“Don’t worry, Ken, you have your life to live, and I should not have told you all of that.” She replied in a low voice.
“No, Esther; when there is love, we share burdens, we pull together, we work together.” She waited before replying.
“If one day we are together, Ken”, she turned toward me, “it will be in your country, but not here.”
She was implying that I would marry her there, to facilitate her immigration. That is still a way often used.
“Right now, Esther, I have so much studying to do… but when the time comes, we will know what is right.” I squeezed her and slowly started to caress her hips. 

Little by little, she drifted to sleep, waking up every so often to make sure I was still there. The fragrance of that all rubber bed with her there cannot be matched. I knew much more was going to happen with Esther, but it was not for right away.
In the early AM she woke up. “Good, we have half an hour to enjoy each other before I need to prepare.”
We hugged each other and soon she was driving my swollen penis into her drenching vagina. 
“You are playing with fire, I have no protection, neither do you.” I said. She produced a condom and slipped it on swiftly. She was getting quite excited again, very close to orgasm.
“Esther, do you realize that there is a good chance I shall stay another year in Hamburg?”

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