Exchange Student in Germany, Part 8 | bondage story

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January 1998
(The scrapbook begins with several Holiday Season’s cards from Denver, and from Germany, a little museum of letters, family pictures, and friends from Hamburg, some very sweet. Then there is a letter from my sister and Anita, Krista’s sister hiding in a log cabin some place, all dressed in… guess what; then on their skis, laughing like crazy – I wonder who took the picture.)


Today is the first Sunday of the year, and we still have one week of vacation before school. Krista has been invited for that week with friends to visit Paris. Esther is working now for two weeks straight, and my landlady, Brigitte, is quite busy. I don’t want to hang around here, because I know she will want me for herself, and I don’t feel like it at all after those three days at Esther’s. I don’t want to work at Mr. Schulz’ before the second week of January either.  I told him I needed rest. So I took my moped and went for a ride in some new part of town. The weather was a little sunny around noon, and it was nice to ride streets clear from traffic, but the weather is still very cold, freezing.
No sooner I was back, about 3 PM, the phone rang. Brunhilde!
“Ken ! I want to ask you something. I was to leave for Austria with my friend, but she is sick. I have reserved a hotel room in a ski resort. So, having nobody I like to travel with, I wondered if you would mind coming instead of her? I am leaving by car tomorrow at 5 AM.” 
The opportunity was too good to be true. “I would love to go. Still, I have to check it out with my landlady here. She will be back in a couple of hours. Can I call you back ?”
“Of course. I shall be waiting…   anxiously ! Bye !”

Austria on skis

Immediately after that I packed my cases, two of them. I did not have skis and boots, but everything else. I can ski with my latex rain suit if need be, it is made of thicker latex gauge, or else with jeans. I packed all my rubber belongings, of course. For a long time I hesitated in taking the bedding too, but knowing how costly these things are, I decided not to.

The phone rang again: Brigitte !
She explained that she was detained to replace other colleagues through the week. I explained to her the opportunity of going to Austria with my German teacher. She agreed. I almost died with relief. Then she added : “In the second closet of my room, to the left, way on top you will find a new enema set, and under it there are two bed sheets for a double bed, two pillow cases in yellow, and you can take the blue night shirt you know of. I insist that you also take a couple of masks and gloves. In the same drawer you will find jell and talcum powder… Don’t forget your passport ! Have lots of fun! But be careful!  Bye !”
How did she know about all of that ? Did Mr. Schulz ever talk to her ?
In no time I had packed all that stuff. That made my case real heavy. I called up Brunhilde:
“Hi! Ken. ARE YOU COMING ?” she shouted way too loud, betraying her tension.
“Eh !  Yes !… I am ready now !”
I did not hear anything and waited for ten seconds or so.
“Are you there, Brunhilde ?” A small voice came through, all cramped with emotions.
“Yes, I am coming by in twenty minutes.”
“Bye then, I shall be waiting on the side walk.!”

The wind had picked up, and it was cold out on the street. I was dressed in my warmest clothes for I did not want to catch anything. Two cases and my portable ! Three minutes later a Mercedes Sport Sedan pulled to a stop, the trunk opened automatically, and I lifted my cases in the large space available. 
She was covered in woolen clothes. I could hardly see her nose. We left immediately for her house, unloaded. Silently we hung our coats and winter protective gear. We both knew that we did not have ten minutes before finding ourselves in bed so great was the tension. I was wondering how she would bring me to this because it was only six PM.
“We have a long drive tomorrow, and I want to be out of Hamburg by five AM, that means we need to rise at four.  I have fixed something quick for us before we sleep. It is all upstairs. Shall we go?”

Here it is, I knew it. I opened one of my cases to pull a bag with just the overnight stuff. For once in I don’t know how many months, I shall not sleep in rubber. We climbed the stairs silently. She was very nervous for some reason. I did not know if she would put me in a guest room or in her room. Up the stairs, she took my hand and led me to her room. It was all lit up with candles, a little paradise of love. She closed the door, turned to me, grabbed my bag, put it on a chair and looked at me.
“Ken, I am a disaster inside.” She was trembling. “I don’t know what I am doing, why I invited you, what is going on with me…”  She hugged me; tears were streaming down her cheeks. “It is the first time… the first time… in my life… that I love someone…  and…” she was crying big sobs now. I let her emotions roll out, one wave after another, “I am afraid… do you understand ?...” She could not bring herself to admit I was the one she loved, but that would come soon enough. Her head was bent over my shoulder, and my hand was rubbing the bottom of her back, slowly. When she calmed down. I looked at her with strength and said softly but with no room for a reply :

“Brunhilde, undress me!” She was shocked back to reality, attempted a smile.
“I don’t know if I could. “ she whispered. I waited there, not moving. She looked down. Finally, her fingers fumbled at the buttons of my shirt, undid them and she stopped.
“Take it off !” I whispered with strength. She slowly did, and put it on top of my bag.
“Go on, the T-shirt now !”  She obliged but then seemed to hesitate.
“My shoes and socks!” She did that, sitting on her heals.
“Now my pants!” She fumbled a long time with my belt and zipper. That went too. She stopped again. 
“What is stopping you?” I asked. She waited before replying.
“I have a force that tells me I am crazy, and another that drives me stronger than I can resist, and I am succumbing to what I yearn, and what I have been dreaming. I am scared. Something is changing in me, and… I am like in a boat down a fast stream with nothing to guide it.”
“Follow your instinct, whichever it is.” She did not move for about half a minute. Then all of a sudden, she came to me and slipped my underwear off and opened the bed.
“No” I said, “I will undress you now.”  She submitted to me. 
I started with her jewelry, and went on with everything down to her bra and panties. She was dripping wet already, she knew I knew, but she was indifferent to it at this stage. Her face still reflected fear. So, I took her by the hand and helped her in bed, went to the other side, turned the lights off, and slipped in next to her. She was not moving at all, not a good sign.

After ten minutes, I turned the lights back on. 
“Come, let’s take a shower !” She got up, almost like an automaton, followed me to the bathroom and I started the shower. I did not take her underwear off, knowing that if she did not do it herself, they would be soaking wet and she would have to do it after.
“Ken, take my bra off, will you?” I did, and with gentle hands started to massage her healthy breasts. She was unbelievably sensitive in that area, for she went crazy in no time flat. Then I grabbed her mini underwear and pulled it off her derriere down her legs to the floor and threw it in the sink. Stepping to her side, I put my hand on her low abdomen; she reacted with a cry of surprise and sensuality. After a minute or so, I could feel her womb harden, and I slowly pushed into the contraction and released the muscle gently. At one point, I placed my hand just at the line of her pubic hair and pulled the skin upwards forcing her labia forward and stretching the entire region of the crotch, That already was enough to produce a pre-orgasmic contraction that shook her violently. 

“Ken !… I have never felt anything like that…” Her eyes were not focusing anymore; she obviously was weak, and could have fallen on the ground. So, I released her and invited her to step in the shower. The water was nice and warm, the cubicle steamy. I grabbed the shower receiver and sprayed her completely including her hair. I saw a reaction of surprise, but it was too late anyway. Then I took the shampoo bottle and lathered her from top to bottom. I turned off the water and took my time in rubbing the soap everywhere on her; every square inch of skin was visited, some areas many times. Then, I took the shower and rinsed her once more thoroughly. After the hair rinse, I said to her,
“Brunhilde, let me do, now.”
I placed her hands on the horizontal handle bar.
“Place your feet apart !”  She did that.
“More apart ! and back from the wall until your arms are stretched.” She obeyed.
“I am going to give you a water massage.”
Using techniques I had developed over time on Krista, Esther and Brigitte, I made full use of that shower head on her back, her breasts, her anus and around there. She went through two violent orgasms. I had to help a little with a finger massage too, but by the time I was done, she was a different person. After toweling her dry and her hair too, I took my time with the hair dryer, brush and comb. I even put a ribbon to hold her mane together. She smiled.
Then I led her to bed. 
“Wait for me !”  I quickly dried myself too. There was a tray of light food, fruit and cheeses. I fed her a few pieces with a glass of juice. Then I turned the lights off.
No sooner was I next to her that she turned toward me, and embraced me, gave me the longest French kiss I had ever received from anyone, so sweet, so gentle. The proud, professional, self-confident model had become a piece of love clay. 
Before going to sleep, I recited the poem that she liked; when I was done she said, 
“But it is not true… it is not… it is not !”
We slept the whole night in each other’s arms. The alarm clock went off for a long time until I decided to brave the cool temperature and turn it off. I did not go back to bed because I knew that if I did, we would never leave.

The sky stayed dark until ten AM. We were doing well on the Autobahn, averaging about 95 miles per hour, a reasonable speed for Germany, especially in a Mercedes. We stopped at road side restaurants for breakfast, and lunch. The landscape was sort of dull, plains and more plains of fields under the snow, forests and sprawling city peripheries and industrial plants. The traffic would thicken some around main cities, but it was noticeable that Germany was on vacation. We crossed the Austrian border at about 4 PM without any trouble and arrived at the hotel by seven PM or so. What a spot ! It was night, but still we could see the main street all covered with snow and reserved for pedestrians, shops, restaurants, a perfect resort, like in story books.

Red caps took our luggage to our rooms without asking any question; we were expected for they greeted Brunhilde by her name and me too. Every detail had been thought of, even the ski rental, boots, etc. I was impressed with the quality and prompt service, always with a smile. Every serving lady was in the Austrian costume with a laced up dress in the back and a laced up corsage in front pushing their breasts way up in a somewhat revealing manner. The food in the restaurant tasted out of this world, and everywhere music was heard. Local bands, chamber music, all kinds of groups entertained us throughout the week. A late walk through the village finished our energies off. We retired in the same way as the night before, weary by that long drive and a substantial dinner. 

At about 7:30 AM, Brunhilde called in the breakfast. It was brought to our room; we were still in bed. They served it on the room table and left. The smell of the coffee and croissants was irresistible: Butter, cream, thicker than I had ever seen, fruit, cereals and more yet. We got up, put on the terry cloth bathrobes supplied by the hotel and ate heartily. Next in the shower, we recovered an intimacy we both wanted. Loving Brunhilde was a different thing altogether. She did not have the drives of Esther, but the romance in her was far more developed and interesting. Poses, interruptions, creative moves, surprises non-stop, these were the things that got her crazy. At about nine we went to the hotel sport shop and rented everything, even a ski suit for me. Brunhilde had her ski attire. She looked electric and beautiful. I asked for a knee bandage too, just in case. 
By ten, the bus took us to the slopes. No wait for tickets, the hotel had taken care of that already. In a matter of minutes I was transmuted into the splendor of the Alps, Brunhilde holding onto my arm, squeezing herself next to me, in love, cute as a slender princess of the snow.
“I have never been so happy, Ken, I am in a dream… Thank you for coming with me.”
“Thank YOU !” I replied.
“Oh, that’s nothing !” she replied, “You give me more than money could buy.”

At the top, we took another lift that brought us in the area of nine thousand feet of altitude. The view was awesome, and we stood there for a good long time, filling our eyes. The snow was a perfection, powdery, even, and we went down stopping from time to time since our legs were still new. At 1 PM we rested at a restaurant right on the slope, nearby the arrival of a ski lift. The terrace overlooked the valley. A dream of beauty. We lined up with others to buy our lunch on a tray, and walked back to our table. There were crowds of skiers, but everyone was here for a good time and did not push out of the ordinary. Brunhilde opened her ski jacket and allowed the sun to tan her face, neck and chest. It was warm considering the season. After coffee, we skied on until three in the afternoon and went back to the hotel. We were totally exhausted by the altitude, the fresh air and decided to take a nap for a couple of hours. We did it in the buff, of course, very contented. 

During the week we did see a ski contest, a skating contest also. We went to one concert, and one night we had a ride in a sleigh under the moon light that brought us to a chalet where a yodel group entertained us. They were serving hot wine, and there were times for dancing too; a lot of fun.
One evening, we ate at the hotel restaurant, and Brunhilde put on the dress I had given her. That was a daring move, but she wanted to do this for me. But for the sweet smell of latex, nobody would have ever suspected it. During the meal, she was very distracted and disconnected; there was no doubt that she was aroused by the latex. We could just finish desert and liquors. Five minutes more and she would have had a violent orgasm right in public. We just made it to our room.
She went into convulsions, almost. She was agitated, confused. She wanted to get rid of the dress, but she wanted to keep it on too. She loved the erotic feeling of latex, but it was too much stimulation. 
She laid on the bed, her head turning left and right, she was moaning, her back arching, she tried to stop the contractions but she could not.
“Help me, Ken, help me !  I can’t stop…”

I realized that a mammoth orgasm was coming but that she was not stimulated enough to get over the edge. So, I softly grabbed her breast with one hand, and passed the other under the dress. She had no underwear, and she was very wet. In no time I stimulated the entire territory. She grabbed the pillow and screamed into it as she was ever more powerfully contracting. She rolled all over the bed, out of her mind. When it began to ebb over, I rubbed her abdomen gently.

“Oh no ! she cried, I can’t anymore !” She was climbing again. Then I pressed hard on that same spot and kept the pressure for a moment until she could manage herself. She was a sensual wreck. I left her there alone for a moment and prepared my cat suit. When I was all dressed up, I took off her dress and her bra, slid her in bed, and took her in my arms. The touch of my body covered in latex renewed her fires, but this time it was one or two levels deeper, closer to the core of the baser part of her sexuality. I knew it because her moves were far more erotic. She could hardly control her impulses; in fact, she was acting out her fantasies. 

They were totally different from Esther’s, and it took a lot of concentration to figure out where she was going. In the course of that night, I taught her the sixty-nine position when her inhibitions were just about evaporated. She was wild and getting wilder. It was real good. When we finally slept in each other’s arms, she would want my rubberized thigh on her labia, and she would rub her clit on it till she would almost collapse; then she would sleep a while and wake up to rub again. By the morning, all I needed was to put my hand on her low abdomen and she would fly into an orgasm. Now she was sex-putty. She would remain that way for the entire week. I decided to try it during the day on the ski slopes.
“Before we get up, would you mind to play with my breasts?” came her sleepy request out of the depths of a fluffy pillow.
“Are you randy?”
“That is a ten cents question.”
With great care I massaged her breasts and when I saw her nipples harden, I applied my mouth to it real hard. She went totally crazy and over the top in a couple of minutes. But I did not stop there. I fetched two wash cloths, one with hot water, the other with cold. I lifted the sweaty gown, and washed her breasts with the cold cloth, and the hot one right after. It made her fly even higher. She was a sex crazed animal. I could hardly keep her on the bed. After a while she calmed down but I was interested to know more about her breasts. I slipped on rubber gloves and got the jell. It was true indeed. Her breasts functioned like two enormous clitoris, so sensitive they were. The sensation of rubber gloves massaging the jell all over, the toying with her nipples just drove her to the clouds. No need of clips on her.

By noon on Wednesday, she was not the same woman. She was far more sensitive, vulnerable, but so much happier. Her entire face was different, normal, satisfied, so far from the professional model. She definitely looked like a woman who had her intimate needs fulfilled. We stopped for a moment and I got a couple of candy bars, just to tie us over before lunch. We skied to the cover of a few fir trees and sat there, in the snow. That’s when I decided to zip her pants open and place my hand on her low belly. She responded in less than twenty seconds. A minute later she was thrashing all over the place. Now I knew what to do with her.
“I don’t know what’s going on with me, Ken, you have a touch that is irresistible.”

We shared the candy bars, kissed a lot, and skied until four PM this time. We were getting stronger, no doubt, and we decided to go to the hotel pool. By five we were ushered in that establishment that offered massages, body building equipment, etc. Brunhilde’s female characteristics hid behind a minute bikini, and the hotel provided a latex bathing cap to all swimmers, pink for ladies, black for men. That was the rule. We went first to the whirlpool since nobody was in it. Delightful relaxation. There were pulsating jets in all the strategic erotic places, and soon Brunhilde was in the clouds again. I had to get her out of there or else the ambulance would have been called.

We sat by the large pool and decided to go for a swim. Brunhilde hung on to me and pushed me under the water, again and again. She was taking a sweet revenge; it was funny. Finally, I came to her from the side and plunged my hand into the bottom part of her bikini. She muffled a scream of surprise, of course, but I could already observe how her libido was overcoming. I did not pursue for long.
“In our bedroom, you know what to expect, don’t you?”
“You are a sweet devil, you know? With you I am not afraid to be bad, and that is scary.”

We just had an hour for a nap. She took my hand and placed it on her belly.
“Now I am just as guilty as you are.” She laughed.
“Tonight we sleep in rubber, Brunhilde!”
“I don’t know if I can any more, Ken, I have had more orgasms here than in my entire life.”
“We shall see; I beg to differ. I believe that you are a very sensual woman, but that sensuality has been repressed through the tough program of your professional life. For a few days, you can change that and become a human being. In a couple of hours you will want to anyway...”

That evening we went to a classical concert given in a lovely hall, decorated in the Tyrolian style. It was an enchantment. Brunhilde was on the wings of romance. After that she finally let herself go totally. She looked at me transfixed, “I have dropped all barriers, Ken; you cannot imagine what might happen, because with my creative mind I may do all kinds of things, and try others too. If you want to save your skin, you will have to be two steps ahead of me.” Her eyes were saucy. I could see a lot of lust in her demeanor, and it was so good; she was now finally resting, finding herself. It was all new to her, the sensual drives challenging her willpower like huge waves against sand dunes were washing off the sand one layer at a time, and she knew that in a couple of hours, these waves would conquer all of her to the very core of her sexuality. She loved to be afraid with this anticipation, and dreaded the loss of control she knew would happen. It was all too much, she was emotionally such a love wreck, and her body could not be counted on for one moment. That is very dangerous for a woman to be in such a stage, because these tides come in and out whether she wants it or not, and she cannot do much about that at all. Brunhilde described that fear as being in a rubber dinghy down a river, hearing the waterfall coming close. She trusted me for everything, because she could not trust herself for one moment.

“Well, let’s begin the right way then, I have with me a set of latex bed sheets, a beautiful latex gown and more interesting things.”
“Who gave you all of that?”
“My landlady.”
“Your what?”
“You want to see?”
“I can’t believe it. Of course, I want to see… well, … I am not so sure I want to…  yes, show me!” 
I went to the other case I had not yet opened. Brunhilde’s eyes opened as large as saucers.
“I had no idea…” Her wheels were turning. She was touching the sheet, feeling the thickness of it, the smoothness.
“Oh, if you want to see, you must be dressed in the terry cloth bathrobe only. So I have to undress you, beautiful!” She went ahead of me; she threw away her clothes in the corner, no embarrassment whatsoever, she was hot, eager, grabbing, ready, randy, unstoppable. Naked, she looked gorgeous, and she forgot all about the bathrobe.

“How about you?” she replied with a teasing smile.
“Well, that’s your job !” She almost ripped my clothes off, and grabbed my hardening member with both hands. 
“All right, this is better.” She exclaimed with satisfaction with a sense of her own justice.
“Let’s roll off the bed spread, shall we?” She did not want to. Mouth open, she was taking a good look at what she was holding, she focused on one thing: sex, and more sex. Finally, I gave her a little motion…”the bed spread… let’s roll it!” She obliged, but I could see that her mind was not with the bed at all.
“Now, this is the bottom sheet!” I opened it. It fitted perfectly.
“And this is the top sheet!”  It slid all over the place, but Brigitte had sown a strip of cloth along the edges that held it firm under the mattress.
“Now the pillow cases…”  When that was done, we put back the bed spread. I lifted the blue nightgown. 
“Now put on the nightgown, playgirl !” She was shocked to hear this term for her respectable self. But, in some manners, it was true.
The soft latex on her skin triggered a tremendous reaction like a huge short circuit sending sparks everywhere.
“It is completely different from the dress, the feel of it, I mean…  more erotic yet.” Her breathing was becoming short and heavy.

She was obviously on her way to lose it once more. I took her hand and led her to the side of the bed. I opened the bed, spread some talcum powder, and she slid into the coolness of it all. I covered her up to her chin and left her there while I dressed in my blue pajamas. I also took along the gloves and the two masks. The lights off, I slipped inside the bed. I could feel her arousal grow, just by the slight movements of her abdomen. My erection followed suit. Her breathing grew faster. Her back began arching, and there it was, the first of many that night.
After a while I put on the mask on her face. That awoke new urges, new discoveries, orgasms far deeper and unanticipated. There was no need of toys with her, just my hand, and most of the time it was not necessary; the cool and smooth feeling of latex was excitment enough. She soon felt like falling into the prison of her own eroticism.
“I want out” she pleaded.
“No, you don’t, admit; you love it.”
“Yes, but it dominates me.”
“Play to it, and then you dominate it.”
“I can’t! It dominates my desires, it draws them out, it grabs them, and dominates them until new desires come around. How can I stop?” Her next orgasm was coming on her like a railroad at full speed.
I slipped on the rubber gloves. “Let me work with you, Brunhilde.”

As she was losing control, I rested my rubber covered hand on top of her pelvis. She erupted. Everywhere she turned there was more latex, more pressures, broad and sharp. I put some jell on my glove and went directly for her pubis. My fingers met first her clitoris, not as large as Esther’s but respectable, and down the slit to her sweet hole. She squealed. There, my fingers opened her labia and became active all at once, I would plunge my long finger deep in there repeatedly, visit the entire region and come back. I enjoyed her cries, her protestations that were nothing but a calling for more. The glove had no ribbing to give her a more erotic send-off. After a while I could feel the frustration set in, the “just about”, the “almost but not quite”. That’s when I decided for the sixty nine position again, and in a short time she was swept away by a vortex of feelings that I encouraged regardless of her pleadings.
All along I would repeat to her, “You love rubber, you are addicted to rubber, rubber owns you, you need rubber, you feel good with rubber and with me, you look your best with rubber, you are finally yourself in rubber, give-in to rubber, don’t resist to rubber. You are a rubber slave, a rubber maniac, a rubberist, a gummi doll. Rubber wants to caress your breasts, your thighs, your belly, your arms, your neck, your back, your legs, and especially your sex. Rubber will conquer your sex, and conquer you.” When I said that, just that word, she’d fly off like a rocket. I could feel the bonding taking place little by little as she experienced more and more orgasms.

Finally, I lay alongside her, and placed my hand on her abdomen. The feeling was strong, but it was her life, she was becoming more and more herself. The very core of her sexuality was exploding and taking all of her with it, and she turned from defensive to voracious. 
We did not sleep much that night.
“Tell me, Brunhilde, you are the dream of thousands of men. How is it that you do not have many men friends?”
“In my business, Ken, either you give it to all, or you give nothing to anyone. I chose the later one. It takes a little longer, but you keep your self-esteem.”
“You will never cease to amaze me, Brunhilde; I never knew you were a woman with such character.”
“Oh, it is not hard. You have to learn to find out who is sincere, and you quickly discover that almost none are. But you are, and not part of business.”
All day long she would look at me with longings that told everything to anyone who observed her, and there were lots of people everywhere who noticed it. I was rather pleased. Other women were looking at me wondering who I was to bring my friend to such a degree of desire. Most men would not catch on, except that we were good lovers. One time, when at a restaurant table Brunhilde excused herself to go to the bathroom, another women had a note sent to me; in it she asked if there was any chance for me to see her for two hours – and her room number. I did not reply. 

Every night thereafter we slept dressed in rubber. Nights were even more exciting than days. Saturday came on us so fast. Now we had the drive back home. We did not want to leave. We both had tears in our eyes because life had become a fairy tale. We still had a night to sleep in a motel on the way back. It was a wonderful evening again. It took us all day Sunday to make it back for we were not driving that fast; we both were totally relaxed, without care.
She dropped me at my house, and I kissed her a long “see you on Tuesday!!!” I did not take the suitcase with my latex things, because I felt we might need it in a couple of days. “Keep that case for a couple of days, please.” She smiled sideways, “You… you will always win.”

Back home
Back home, Krista was waiting for me. She was so excited that I was back. She too was all tanned and kept on telling me all her adventures. After a while she went to her room to come back dressed in her translucent latex nightgown and pink rubber bathrobe. She looked so cute. I was sitting on the sofa, and she threw herself into my arms. 
“Caress me all over, Ken. Tomorrow you give me an enema. Remember? In fact I want two or three, long, slow ones. You know, Ken, I am becoming a big girl.”
“What happened?”
“I found out I can experience an orgasm just with latex on.”
“Explain it to me.”
“If I put my special panties in a certain way, with jell in my slit, the latex will stick in there, and it takes less than ten minutes for me to fly off. You want to see.?”
“Yes, of course.”

She ran to her room, came back with her latex underpants and the jell. She made a full demonstration there, in front of me.
She showed me the crotch part with a number of small rubber knobs in the front area that would excite and massage all her tender tissues from the clitoris down to the entrance of her vagina. She squeezed a lot of jell into her crotch, and slipped on the panties.
“Ok, now, you see how it hugs my entire shaven pubis? Touch it, and see how it swells.”
I touched her, a little more, and a little more. It accelerated the process, and soon Krista was falling into my arms.
“Keep on, give me more… more, please… much more…” She was off and beyond the blue. A new challenge now. I knew she would come into my bed in the early AM.
When she landed back in reality I said,
“Krista, I don’t want sexual relationships, you know that. It is not right for either one in this setup. Your mom would be really hurt, and might throw me out.”

She knew, and it made it hard on her in some way. But we had our little arrangements to make it more bearable. 
“What are your mom’s values with regards to you as a teen-ager. Would she allow you to have relationships with a man?”
“I don’t know, we have not spoken about that in at least a year.”
“Look, Krista, there is nothing urgent about that. When she sees the need, she will let you know. Until then you are already functioning like a woman and that’s good. I am here, your friend, and that should help some. You don’t have to fight for me, you know how I am to you and we both get along real well as brother and sister. This is good for now. You can come in my bed in the early AM when you feel too lonely, and I give you enemas once a week with a couple of little extra pleasures, no? Besides, when you want to be hugged, I am always here.”
“You are right, Ken.”
“You know, your mom does not have what you have, and most women in this world neither.”
That was a sobering thought that finally turned her around.
“How is the Fashion Show coming?”
“Oh it will be grandiose, you know. We have about twenty new girls and eight boys who want to show off. It will be unbelievable, and Mr. Schulz has been so nice to all of us.”

“It will take place in two weeks, right?”

For some reason, I did not feel like going to the party, but for Krista I would show up.
I looked at my agenda. Already three women to measure on Monday PM….
We both went to bed at about ten PM. I slept hard until she came into my bed and wiggled herself between the rubber sheets under the rubber cased bed spread. She was in the same nightgown as the evening before. I could recognize it by its smell. Sweet Krista. 
I held her tight against me and after some time could feel the build up of a new orgasm. What she said was true. My hand on her hip could feel her underpants on. No wonder.

The morning came all too soon. Monday. It was cold and grimy as it often is in Hamburg, but I was ready to study hard. Five minutes of moped and I was already walking in the corridor ready to conquer this new semester. I was going to leave early this afternoon of the first school day of the year: teachers’ conference. I could thus be at Schulz’ for his clients.

Three appointments

The day went by quickly, and I was on my way in a small rain to see my boss again. That rain suit was really handy. I rang the bell, and Antje opened. She was so happy to see me again. She grabbed me, pulled me in, and pressed me against her latex clad body. She was sexy too. I went in, got dressed in my black cat suit. She was watching me. She zipped it shut for me and shined it, with lots of attention to the crotch until I  had a strong erection. Lots of tease.
“Come, your first client has arrived. ”She had a clipboard in her hand.
“What does she expect?”
“Oh, a shave, of course. You are an expert at this, and this is why they all come here now, for you. You should see the waiting list ! But they know they can’t come only for that because this service is done with a minimum of 250 DM of merchandise, and that is not much in the world of fetish.”
“How does she look like?” Antje looked up to the ceiling.
“So, now Mr. Shave is picky?”
“Yes, very much so.”
“Well she has brown eyes, black hair, my height, my shape, a sweet face…”
“How is she dressed?”
“Latex rain coat. Wine red… oh… thin legs and boots to the knee.”
“Is she a prostitute?”
“Now I am getting mad… NO!  She comes from a wealthy neighborhood. Old money.” 

For some reason, more women knew that I had special hands. The word was going around. I would have preferred caressing these women than shaving them. Still, because of the erotic nature of the store, that service was available. The women clerks were usually doing this job, and I am sure they did it fine. Why did I get myself into this? Curiosity, first, and lust then, I know. But then it was something else. Probably the satisfaction of being trusted for one of the most intimate thing a woman would allow anyone to do. I took that part of my job very seriously because I was touching at the core of the client’s soul. Then they also would purchase many more latex garments than they had planned to, and would come back the following month for more and a shaving, of course. I had some guilt feelings at first, but then, I felt that it was their decision and mine too. Most women would give me a huge tip if they were happy. That helped.

I went out slowly. I wanted to see this beauty without being seen first. So I shopped around, put on a coat for men a size too large, and walked assuredly into the measuring room. She was waiting for me there. She had a little fear reaction when she saw all that black mass entering at once.
After greetings, I hung my coat, and I could already see the lust in her gaze, the confusion setting in, as she saw me dressed in the cat suit. 
“You are here for two things I am told: measurements, and special services.” She motioned with her head that it was indeed so.
She was rather tall, with very long dark brown hair, a classic Italian face, very sensitive, a set of D size breasts and a body really fit and slim. The boots said it all. She might be a submissive somewhere.
“What do you want first ?”
“Measurements, please!”
They all said the same, but I asked anyway. 
“Tight clothing or loose ones?”
I pulled out two forms, set them on the tablet for the purpose, opened the tiny drawer, withdrew a dark pencil, the measuring tape. 
“May I hang these clothes for you?”

She undressed with some hesitation and handed to me all her clothes but for the bra and her thong. She had a lot of hair between her legs, more than I had ever seen on a woman. That’s where the hesitation came from.
“At some time I shall have to measure your breasts, you know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“All right then. Put your hands there and grab that bar. Stretch your arms and stand off from the wall. OK! You can let go. Step on the scale…  Step on that stool now.!”
She was fifty centimeters above ground. 
“Now hold on to the other bar with your hands and hold. Stand straight.”
I began measuring her feet, her legs.
“Set your feet apart. I have to place the tape in your crotch. Stand straight!”
She showed a little nervousness. Normal for a girl so new, so young, just twenty perhaps.

When I had completed these measurements, I felt like talking about her purchases.
“What kind of clothes are you interested in?”
“First I am looking for night gowns, dresses, a leotard, a cat suit, a raincoat, and underwear.”
“Have you looked at our catalogues, since you are going to buy things made to your measurements?
“Yes, I just saw a few raincoats.”
“When I am done with this, we can look together for a little while, and you can explain to me, as we go along what you have in mind.”
The conversation went on.
“Forgive me, I have to unhook your bra.”
She had gorgeously firm breasts that needed hardly any support. The nipples shrunk and protruded almost immediately. A healthy sign. She reacted very strongly to my light touch.
“They are so sensitive. I am sorry.”
“Is my touch too light?”
“Oh no, it is fine, you are very special.”
Wow ! already.  I went on doing my work without a word. 

“You may step down now.” 
I measured everything, her neck, her head, her nose, I took a Polaroid picture of the profile of her head, of the profile of her low back. She was watching with interest every single action.
“All right! Do you want the services now and dress later, or do you want to dress for a moment and choose your clothes?”

She went for the clothes, but instead of returning her clothes to her, I handed to her a floor length nightgown, a splendid thing in three colors of latex, very feminine. She passed it on after I put powder all over her body with a white puff. She, of course, went through a series of erotic shocks, the latex one being the most powerful, in particular on her breasts since the night gown had an A-line with  high waist. The top held her breasts like precious fruit, and molded them splendidly. She loved it immediately. Wearing it made it difficult for her to concentrate, but I got to know that she needed these clothes for some parties. That made it a lot more clear.
“Are there other reasons for your purchases? Don’t hesitate to say, we have seen everything here, trust me.”

That’s when she opened up about her latex urges, just recently discovered.
“Explain to me what you feel.”
“All through my childhood and youth, my parents were very busy people, socially involved in many things, and they had little time for my older brother and me. That meant long days at home, nobody when we came back from school except the helpers. As part of the household rules, rubber aprons were standard, and since childhood I have been carried, comforted, encouraged with some… eh… rubber around. Now, I am learning to live on my own, much more than before, but I have purchased rubber aprons – she blushed -, the raincoat you have seen, besides a few others in PVC that I have had for some time, and I discovered that rubber is something many people live with too. But for me, it is not something to show off, but the companionship of my past, the solace aspect of my life.” 
I knew she had opened her heart to me, and I felt a profound sense of respect mixed with sadness for that young lady who had to grow up on her own, scared of this world, wealthy, but so vulnerable and insecure since she felt good only when in rubber.
“Are the parties you want to dress for normal parties, or are they fetish parties ?”
“They are normal parties.”
“OK, then, I know exactly the kind of dress you need. You want a dress lined with latex. Right?”
“You can do that ?”
“Do you have a dress you would want us to line with latex?”
“Well, that changes a lot of things now. Let me think… Yes, I have three of them. I can bring them here. But I would like to buy clothes for me when I am alone.”
“You are coming at the right place. I understand you perfectly, and you can come here as often as you want, I shall give you my best assistance. There are many interesting things for you. You don’t have to feel embarrassed at all. Many ladies are like you.” 

Relieved she almost smiled. I guided her to pick six things, about 1200 DM of stuff. She was too proper to show her the outrageous things, I felt. As a first step, I confined myself to clothes such as nightgown, bathrobe,  a baby doll, a frilly slip, and a couple of panties. We made an appointment for a look at the dresses in February. She ordered three tight garments too.
“Do you want the services now?”
“I might as well.” Her voice was barely audible.
“Would you sign this release form, please. It protects me.”
“That’s all it does?”
“Yes ! no gimmicks!”
I turned towards the door.
“Trust me, nobody can see you. I shall lock the door.” She was relieved.
I opened a closet where there was a sink, rubber gloves, the shaving supplies, scissors, etc. 

“After you take off your panties, wrap this piece of latex material around your waist like a skirt, there is a Velcro strip…. I know this is embarrassing. You will have to trust me.” 
I got busy slapping the gloves on, and preparing the wash cloth, flowing the hot water.
“Lay down on that table your head on the pillow. – it was rubber covered -  Now put your feet in the places for them.”
I quickly strapped them with the Velcro strips.
“Before anything, I want you to understand that I have a total respect of you, and discretion. What is going to happen is just between you and I as a professional.” She looked relieved. “I am going to lift your legs up. So, lay hold of the two handles left and right.”
I could have lifted her legs up in one quick motion, but due to the sensitive nature of the position, I would go in stages. The latex skirt was long and very ample. It gave her a sense of being dressed even though I was working on her most intimate area. I had a lamp on a stand that would help me see clearly. I was sitting on a low stool on wheels. When Mr. Schulz had instructed me to learn this from Antje, I did not like the full exposure she would put these women into; I felt that it was demeaning. So, after sharing it with Mr. Schulz I came to organize my “services” in this manner. He really did not care as long as the job was done well, and the clients were happy. It turned out they were. But for all that, Antje did not change her ways. 

I showed my client the shaving cream, the scissors, the razor, the skin cream. I explained to her how I would proceed.
“Shall we go?”
“OK!” she whispered.
I found out that this last approval was necessary, each time, with everyone.
“Do you want all of it off, or leave some on?”
“Take it all off!”
Slowly I went about it, very lightly, asking her frequently how she felt. I told her of my every move so that she would not be surprised, and I would encourage her,
“You are one of the most patient client I have had. You make it so easy for me.”
We talked about her clothes, and I asked her if she had any question.

First, I would cut as much hair as I could with the scissors. After that followed the razor. It takes time to do it right. 

“If you feel discomfort when my fingers touch some sensitive spots, let me know right away”.
She had a lot of bushy hair, it was going to be a long procedure. I knew she would be back every other month. She had hair on her inner thighs, on her belly, all the way to her anus. When shaving, I would begin at the periphery and move toward to the center. Twenty minutes later I was done but for the center.
“Is that the first time you are being shaved here?”
“Yes, it is. I was scared for months to have this done. But now… I am not. You know, with rubber on, it does not feel very good.”
“OK now! I have to do the sensitive part. Let me know if I hurt you. OK?”

She had hair everywhere, a dense fur. I went very slowly and carefully with the scissors to reduce the length. Then I put shaving cream one small area at a time and applied the razor very cautiously. I had to work on each little area by stretching the skin above it, and shaving it clean. I heard a couple of typical moans, not of pain, but of erotic enjoyment. All of a sudden she had a run of vaginal fluid. She was embarrassed. I was expecting it. She smelled sweet.
“No trouble at all. It happens.” I said matter-of-factly.
I  was working on the two lips of the labia now. There was thick hair even inside along the edge of the most sensitive tissues. In fact I felt sorry for her because it was not a present from nature. Anyway, I wanted to be as gentle as I could, because it was embarrassing enough. All around her hot button grew almost a jungle of curly hair which I shortened; her clitoris was all erect with excitement. Any mistake there could be disastrous. She was understandably tense.

“Have you used a depilatory?”
“No, because I am scared to do anything in this area.”
“You are right to be cautious. “
After a first pass with the razor, I would wash her and put a skin cream. Then I would go again a second time. I also cleaned up the hair about her anus. I felt so bad for her.
“Are you taking enemas?” I asked.
“No, I never have?”
“You should try. It is helpful” I explained all of it to her.
That gave me time to finish, to triple check my work.
“You look totally different now. You look very seductive, very beautiful, you know.”

I took a towel of hot water and washed her once more. Then I applied more skin cream from her anus to her pubic area, and on her inner thighs also. That cream felt refreshing to begin with, but half hour later it would feel warm and a little erotic. She enjoyed that immensely, and her voice was not shy of letting me know. Slowly I lowered her legs, placed her panties nearby, and secured the rubber skirt around her waist.
“All right! You are all done. If you want to look at yourself there are mirrors everywhere. You can come back at any time, and I shall shave you again. Don’t do it on your own, you could hurt yourself.” I lowered her legs and ripped open the Velcro foot straps.
Then I turned away from her and kept busy cleaning up the corner of the sink, threw my rubber gloves in the canister; after a long moment, I thought it was safe to turn around. She was there standing, looking at me, totally naked, tears in her eyes, beautifully innocent. Her face was visibly emotional, on the verge of tears, her lips trembling.
“Thank you, thank you; it is the first time I like myself.”

I always look at the face of the client, never at her body. It is a principle that has served me well. I gave her a respectful smile.
“I want you to know how much I am impressed with your courage… You are a beautiful woman in your heart. Keep it that way, you deserve it.” 
She smiled timidly, and moved toward me to give me the most gentle kisses of gratefulness I had received in a long time.
“Thank you… thank you… your manners are so gentle. I was not afraid.”
“Here is my card, you can call me home if you don’t want to come here. Home service is not free, though”.
“That’s understandable.”
“Shall I have your latex clothes wrapped up?”
“Yes, please.”
“OK, here are your clothes. The clothes made to order should be here in four to five weeks. Don’t forget to bring these dresses too. You may want to come back for a touch up also. You will find me at the door with your package. Good bye. You ARE a special young lady.”
I left her there. Minutes later she stood at the door, ready to leave, with the sweetest smile. 
“My name is Maria von Luebeck. Here is my card. I shall write to you. Good bye!” She ran out the door.
A taxi was waiting for her.

The next lady client was deeply in her thoughts, looking at a special rack of underwear.

I asked Antje, “Have you worked with her already?”
“Yes, she has bought a few things, but she is waiting for you. Her name is Sophia Schmit”, she answered impatiently.
“How is she?”
“I can’t believe how fussy you have become…” Antje was almost upset.
“Now, listen here. This is a very delicate procedure, as you know, and the atmosphere between two women is totally different than between a man and a woman.”
Antje looked up as if to say ‘what a perfectionist…’  “OK then; she is a music teacher and she works at the conservatory; she is about 35 years old, and she has been a faithful customer here in the last six years.”
“Has she had services from you or anyone?”
“So, why now?”
“I have no idea, you will have to talk to her to find out.”

I approached her. “Frau Schmit, my name is Ken Ladder. We have an appointment, don’t we.”
She blushed and nodded a yes. “Will you follow me, please.” I could see her surprise at the sight of me in a cat suit. It had stirred sexy feelings in her, some lusty thoughts probably.
“Have you purchased all the garments you had planned?”
“Most of them, yes.”
“Can I help you with something?”
“I am almost embarrassed to ask you such a stupid question…” she was fidgeting with her hands, hesitating.
“There is no stupid question, just stupid answers.”
She was trying to find words. “I have some latex clothes, but I am scared of yielding to the desires that they generate in me. These desires never leave me, and every inch it conquers I can never recover. You know what I mean?”
“Are you married?”
“Yes, but my husband knows nothing about it.”
“A man accepts latex a lot easier than a woman. You never can tell how he would react.”
“I am scared to open up, I guess.”
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“He could divorce me.”
“Would he?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Then let me bring you a nightgown for tonight. In the worst case he will say ‘get rid of the thing’. It won’t get any worse, trust me.”
I went to get a dream of latex, a dream of fluidity and style. She was awed when she saw it.
“Ok, now let’s do what you came here for, and you can go home with that nightgown. It is a respectable garment, very attractive for a man. Here is my card. Call me tomorrow and let me know what happened.”
I handed to her the latex skirt to wrap around her waist. “Lay on top of that short bed, and put your feet in the spaces on the sides.”
A few minutes later she was leaving with a smile filled with hope and confidence.
“What instrument are you playing?”
“The violin.” She smiled again, so happy, and blushing with the awareness I knew her little secret now.

Mr. Schulz looked satisfied as an overfed king, congratulating himself about his fine team of experts that brought big money in the bank. The last client of the evening had arrived. She was a small woman, very nervous and decisive, difficult to please, in her late thirties. When I saw that, I called Antje.
“Would you please show her around and  report to me what kind of woman she is.”
“You are nuts; she is a woman, that’s all. Just do your shaving job and forget it.”
“No, Antje, it is much more than that, they talk to me, all of them, and I don’t want to make a mistake.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Tell me if she is really what she looks like, if she is nervous or just plain nasty.”
“Ok, Mr. Razor!”

tentacle invasion

I could see Antje struggle to interest her. She managed to get her name, to start writing the form, but the lady client was just cutting and very unpleasant. I was thinking of leaving for home and forgetting her. Still, I liked the challenge. What was she going to do when I would have her on that bed with her legs up? I walked over to where the women stood and introduced myself. She looked at me as if I was a low rated paria.
“We have an appointment. Will you follow me, please.” I invited her with strength in my voice; that would have required an unpleasant answer to refuse. She was a little surprised because nobody would talk to her like that evidently.

“Your services are free, so it said?” she asked.
“Yes they are if you purchase DM 250 of merchandise.” 
She shook her head. “That should be illegal a requirement such as this.”
“Can I assist you in making your selection?” I handed her one of the five catalogues I had in the closet. She opened it without a word, and flipped the pages almost without looking.
“A nice pair of jeans and a short coat would look real nice on you. I can bring a set here and you can try them.”
With a deep breath she said, “OK, do that, I can’t find my way in this.”
I went to the racks and brought three pairs of pants, three short coats, boots, five or six dresses, all of them real elegant. 

I found her looking at the catalogue, she was busy in the leotard section.
“Here it is, Madam, may I assist you?”
She stood up and worked at taking off her clothes down to her undergarments. We tried all the dresses in total silence. 
“The yellow and black one fits you just beautifully.” It was the tightest, the sexiest of them all. In fact it did not fit her well at all, but I could see that with her dreadful character she had no success with men whatsoever. I also knew that she would not buy it.
“No, this dress is not for a woman of my age.”
“Then, what about the green and gold one? That dress is attractive without being too seductive. You look really beautiful in it.”
She looked at it again, hung it on a clothes hook to review the manufacturing of the garment. There was not anything she could reproach to it.
“Put it on again, and let’s try the coats with it.”

After ten minutes, she had selected two coats, one dress, one pair of black jeans, and a pair of boots ready to wrap.
“You look fabulous, you know. Rubber clothes are really the thing for you.”
“You would never know why I buy all that for.”
“No, tell me.”
“I just found out that my husband has had this fetish for years and he hid it from me. I am so mad at him, you cannot imagine. I feel so cheated. Well, now, I figured that if I dress in it, he will hopefully accept me. I just feel like a thing… you know what that means?”
She was really upset. I was sitting in front of her listening to her every word, but also to her feelings.

“You have no idea the agonies of fear your husband has gone through to admit it to you. It has taken him years of energy to make up his mind. Now it is done. But he has new fears. He did tell you because he could not bear it any longer. You see, his sexuality includes rubber, it is part of it. Truth made him free, the same for you. You told him the truth and it is good. Now, you need to put the past behind, because there is nothing you can do about it. But you have today and tomorrow hopefully. If I were you, I would buy a cat suit. As you go to bed tonight with it on, he will turn crazy about you.”
She was listening now. She was not at the level of hope yet.
“You know, a man loves through his eyes, a sexy looking woman, while a woman loves to be cherished. A cat suit will help this a lot.”
“OK then, put it with the other things.”
“You need to try it on, because it is a complicated garment.”

We did that, and she was so surprised at how sexy it felt, how attractive her body was. She was breathing faster.
“Enjoy it too, there is no law against that.  Shall we go on with the other reason of your visit?”
“Do I need it?”
“Did he ask you to have it done?”
“Yes he did.”
“Then let’s get it done. In fifteen minutes you will go home a lot happier.”
She was a different person when it was all over. There was a smile when she said good bye. Antje was speechless. When the door closed Antje said,
“What in the world did you do to her?”
“I just talked with her. Help me out of this suit, I have to go home. School begins at 7 tomorrow.”
It dawned on me at this moment that Antje was a bit jealous.

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