Exchange Student in Germany, Part 9 | bondage story

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2nd week of January

Back to school. It feels good to meet the guys and exchange impressions on their winter vacation. 
The science teacher is stressing work now, and I know what that means.
Lots of homework. The same is true for Krista. We work together a lot.
Called Mr. Schulz about my schedule. I can help him 3 hours a week, on Thursdays, and not every Thursday either. Was not very happy. 
Tuesday evening : Lesson of German at Brunhilde’s. Very special. See Scrapbook.
Thursday at the shop : another adventure. Dark clouds. See Scrapbook.

3rd week of January

Call from Esther. She too is worn out with work. She is still very happy with our time together, and talks about it all the time.
Another special Tuesday at Brunhilde’s
Letter from Maria von Luebeck. See Scrapbook
Letter from sis. Some wild stories
Letter from mom and dad. Busy to beat the ban.
Meeting of Karina. See Scrapbook.
There are not enough hours in the day. I am tired and I don’t know how to get out of that run around. I need some time to think.
Saturday, school ball and Fashion Show. See Scrapbook.

4th week of January

Week of tests. Did better than I thought. German is
improving lots.
Met Carina and her girlfriend at the swimming pool. See Scrapbook.
Tuesday at Brunhilde’s. Plans for March.
Start of my science project: Natural polymers.
Answer to Maria von Luebeck. See Scrapbook.
A walk with Krista. See Scrapbook
Concert with Esther. Is she in trouble? See Scrapbook.
Sleep, sleep, sleep…


2nd week of January 1998.

Private Lesson of German
Already Tuesday, 6 PM. Two days in school and the rut has set in. It seems that it’s been two weeks. The drizzle penetrates everything but rubber, and thanks to my rain suit, I can travel anywhere on my moped totally dry. I lock up my steel horse behind the front hedge, hidden from view, and ring the bell. I am expected. I can hear her running down the hall. She unlocks the door in a hurry, grabs my suit and pulls me inside. I don’t have a second to take my helmet off that her lips are on mine. Her hands are all over. 

“Take off that wet thing, Ken, I need you so bad, I am randy.” She grabs a hanger and carries my rain suit down to the basement to drip/dry. She has changed completely. “Dinner is at 7:15. Until then, rubber time! Follow me!”

Her bedroom is lit up with fragrant candles. She had made the bed with the latex sheets and in seconds was undressing me. I let her do this time. It is so neat to see her in love, excited, discovering intimacy, giggling, which for a respectable person of her social standing and reputation was refreshing.
“What have you done yesterday and today?” I asked.
“Guess what I did”
“You designed all kinds of clothes, and went downtown to sell them to couturiers.”
“Get lost, you are not even cold.”
“You read poems, and you put all things from your vacation away.”
“You are still cold. If you don’t guess it now, you are in deep trouble.”

I waited for a while. I flirted with the idea that she spent two days in rubber sheets, however it seemed unlikely to me. Still, it’s a try, and then I’ll get in trouble.
“You spent them in rubber, in bed and with your dress.”
“You could still be in trouble, but you have guessed half of it. You could not guess the other half. So I am going to tell you. Are you ready?”
“Yes, of course I am.”
“First, we need to lay in bed and have our hugs and whatever else, then I shall tell you.”
I was in my birthday suit, and I stopped her hands that were undoing her bra. 
“I’ll do that.” 

Slowly, I took off her clothes and brought her to her side of the bed. She still had that natural look of a woman who has been skiing, who has been in the outdoors. But there was something else about her besides being a stunning woman, there was a refreshing enthusiasm, not verbalized, but enriched with some kind of an opium of love that made her absolutely stunning. She was very attractive, a classic beauty, especially naked, but she was way above what I call sexy, she was – that’s it – like a Greek sculpture, a perfection of smooth lines and elegance. She did not move, she flowed. After powdering every square inch of her skin, I took my time to lay her on the rubber sheets, with many caresses. She was moaning, especially when I touched her ultra-sensitive breasts. The nipples were purple with excitement, and the contact of the rubber sheet I laid upon drove her to a degree of raw sensuality that she almost lost all control. No sooner was I in bed that she grabbed me with ferocity. Her intimacy was dripping with love juice, but she did not care. She wanted to be handled, squeezed, assaulted, and I did just that with all my energy. She had a long long fight in her and I could not stop her until I literally impaled her with my erection and made the wildest motion I knew. Her orgasm exploded like a sudden tornado, I could not stop her before and after, she was screaming, the scream of a woman who is afraid of letting go, but who wants more of it, for a longer time, in other words a storm of contradictory feelings. It went on and on and on, and finished by us eating each other’s face and shoulders. Exhausted, I collapsed, and rolled my body in a ball, my head between her breasts. She was crying, she had been waiting for that moment, and now it was there, and she was so deeply fulfilled that she could not face reality any longer.

The time went by like minutes. We had to dress and eat something while going into our German lesson. She had prepared some theatre plays for me, and I picked one that looked interesting. In fact, I followed her suggestions. As we ate our pastas and a delicious salad, she would teach me the words I did not know while I would write them in my book. Every so often, she would take my vocabulary book, and make sentences with words I had to remember and translate from English. (Her English was just about flawless). She was not only an outstanding teacher, but also fun to learn from.

That night I asked her if she had thought of marrying, of going out with a man. She had, but her job was so interesting, and the arts she loved so much were consuming so much of her time that she did not have any interest in a relationship that was even steady. So I asked her if our teacher/student relationship was to her linking. She lit up and said,
“Ken, we have much more that this, you do agree. Do we call it a friendship? I am not sure because I am older than you too. I don’t know what to call it, what to think of it. In fact, when I think by myself about what we have been doing, I am scared, because it is taking a lot from me, and I love it.”
“You give a lot too, do you know that?” I replied. She blushed, and I could see a few tears coming in the corner of her eyes.
“I don’t want to begin…” she almost whispered, “I know you are here for a time only, but you are such a dear young man, so understanding, so sensitive.” She stood up and walked out to the kitchen, not that she had anything to do there, but she needed that minute to compose herself. It was almost time to leave, so I stood up and went quietly downstairs to fetch my dried up rain suit which I pulled on there and proceeded to walk upstairs. I was going to the living room for my brief case when I felt two cold hands on my eyes.
“Stop here; don’t move.” She was back of me, hugging me and kissing my neck; it lasted a long time. I could not do anything; she did not want to. I just waited until the need of her heart subsided. I decided that at the right time I would make a surprise visit at one AM one night. She needed to live her fantasies. When she was done, I slowly turned around… she only had the flimsiest nightgown, so sheer that she should not have bothered. But she was like sunshine… a beautiful flower of love.
“Go now, because I cannot stand it any longer with you here. See you… soon. Come and visit, please. I can’t wait a whole week.”
“I shall call you, that’s a deal. Bye.”
Although I could have committed, I decided not to. Something was telling me that it was too much now; a week in the Alps, and this evening… no, it’s got to calm down.

The Shop

I had committed for three hours a week. I already regretted it. Mr. Schulz had prepared a huge amount of work for me, and another two ladies to measure, with all the other services, of course.
Since Esther had told me her life story, I had taken some time to record from the sale book the names and addresses of all the women I had dealt with at the shop. Some of them were coming for the second time, and although I would not have picked them, not even for a meal, that was gratifying.


That afternoon I was looking at a very shy young woman, who was blushing, and almost in tears. When I had settled her in an armchair, I went over to the closet where the sink is to be found, and without looking at her I started the conversation.
“Why have you come here?” I asked. This was followed by a long silence. I repeated the question without turning back and waited.
She finally answered, “I need to prove to myself by daring hard things.” Her voice was low and trembling. I slowly turned back, saw her scared eyes, and asked her,
“But why?” She waited. Her gaze was looking left and right, all over the place. I wondered if she was a target, and could be followed by someone. I knew she had not told me the truth. I said nothing more, but just prepared myself. Her German accent was not of Hamburg, it was harder in a way. All of a sudden, I linked it to Austria or south East Germany. That might be from Esther’s region. I had a chill come down my spine. May be she was sent to spy on me, and Mr. Schulz was in it, of course.

“Have you chosen what you want to buy?” I asked very professionally.
“Yes, I have.”
“And are the clothes you purchased already at the front?’
“Yes they are.”
“So you are here only for the services, am I correct?” 
“Yes.” She blushed.
“If you don’t want them, you don’t have to.” I suggested.
“No, I want to do hard things.”

I chose not to reply and had her sign the disclaimer and produce an identity card, because she was young and I wanted to make sure she was well over eighteen. The card looked ok, and she was twenty. – Gudrun, Maria, Schulz.
I gave her the red latex wrap around skirt. “Prepare yourself now, will you. I shall look the other way.” She almost laughed at that last statement knowing I would be working on her intimate area.

I helped her on the table, and was about to tie her feet with the Velcro strap, when she said, “I have promised myself that I would ask you, a man, to outfit me with the best toys of the shop.” That was too much for me, and I was not going to do that with a woman I did not have a good feel for. That bit about courage, and so on, all of a sudden looked more than suspicious.
“I am afraid, this is not part of the services I give.” Then I asked, “Shall I proceed?” She smiled with a touch of disappointment that I did take as her failure to attract me. While waiting for her answer, I went about busying myself. I came back and noticed her slowly get up, dress herself and walk out of the room. Why did I get a tremendous anger in me? I don’t know, but I was about to quit on Mr. Schulz.

No sooner she was gone, Antje came in. “Did she ask you to get outfitted with gadgets?”
“Yes, she did.” I was cool if not icy.
“She asked the same from me, and I refused immediately.” Antje was smiling.
“Does Mr. Schulz know her?”
“Yes, she is a niece of his, new in town, obviously.”
“Has she come here before?”
“Not that I know of. I have worked for three years here.”
“Do you have any idea why Mr. Schulz would have his niece sent to me without telling me a word about it?”

Antje shook her shoulders. I had not told her that I had not touched that girl, and it could be that Antje thought I had.
“I did not touch her, you may have gathered that.” Antje looked at me surprised.
“Would you have?”
Antje hesitated. She was looking at me. She obviously had other thoughts. True, in my shiny black suit I was attractive to women most of the time. 
“Oh, Ken, women are funny at times, you can’t tell what they are all about.”
“Why did you not take care of her?” I asked.
“She wanted a man, she said. She must have heard about you.”
“Well, if she wanted to know me that was not the way to do it.” 


There was another client waiting. She was early, and she was in the racks looking for something. I could see her through the door while talking with Antje.
“Would you mind attending the next client due here and letting me know what kind of woman she is. You cannot imagine how useful your indications are.” She looked at me with strange eyes. She was beginning to see that I took my task seriously, while for her a shave is a shave. I straightened out the room once more so that everything would be nice and welcoming, because a store like this addresses such intimate things. Without the client noticing me, I walked out of the large dressing room, closed the door and placed myself in a corner where I could observe that lady client without being seen. To complete the camouflage, I put a mask and gloves on. This way no flesh of mine was contrasting with the black rubber. Quietly, I sat on a chair by the men’s coats. 

The two women were in the underwear department, and discussing several things. Antje knew how to advise a person with discretion and still with a woman’s humor that made them both giggle thereby dissipating the embarrassment. She was a pro. They went to the corset department. After about ten minutes, she helped her wrap up what she had seen and come to a decision. That’s where I noticed Antje’s mistakes. She went back to the various things they had looked at and asked the client if she wanted that or not. The client was not sure and finally, she only purchased a skirt and a bra. She did not have DM 250 to warrant my services. I prepared myself quickly anyway while the two women were going to the front of the store. Having observed that lady, I went to the racks and took a number of items, tight and lose, dresses, nightgowns, what I felt she would be mostly attracted to.

She was a rather small lady in her very early thirties. She had long hair twisted and held in a large clamp with her curls all around her face. Her demeanor revealed an individual with artistic abilities and intelligence, refined. Henceforth, I had chosen the most elegant clothes of the house for her, including a corset that was rubber lined which had a crotch piece and attachments just like Esther’s. I placed all these things in the closet I could open from the inside of the dressing room also. This being done, I noticed Antje leading her to the dressing room, and seeing me she exclaimed,
“Let me introduce to you Frau Alexandra von Gutrecht..” We shook hands; she must have taken an immediate liking to me because her smile was just right for the moment, and made me forget Gudrun Schulz. I was reconciled to my job also, for I immediately could respond to some of her vibrations, a little like with Esther’s, but she was seventy percent new territory, and that piqued my curiosity. At the moment, I had completely forgotten that dressed in a black cat suit she could watch my erection grow. 
“Will you follow me, please?" She gave a last look of understanding at Antje who smiled back at her, and walked into the dressing room.

modelstied presents more bondage:
clamped gaggged in corset
tied in latex
crotchrope corset
rope tied in garter belt

“Would you, please, sit on this armchair because we need to go over a few things before? It is just a quick routine that my responsibilities require. First, if you want my services, you will have to sign this form.” I handed over to her the clipboard with a pen. She looked at it briefly and signed it. “You have signed a disclaimer that protects me. Thank you.” Then, I grabbed a sample of pink latex material, very smooth, a square of about three by three feet and slowly opened it up, held it in front of me, then I put it over my arms. “Take that little sheet in your hands, would you please?” She had been watching me with huge eyes. “What are your feelings when you touch this material?” 

She smiled, blushed a little, cocked her head, and drew her shoulders backwards, which pushed her size C+ breasts forward. She was hesitating between the truth and the joke. She looked at me. I was kindly smiling, but she could see that I was addressing her heart, not her mind. She fidgeted with her feet – a good sign proving that she had a decision to make with regards to my honesty. The reasons for my asking those questions were obvious. If I was to deal with the most sensitive part of her body, we had to establish some sort of common ground. I had chosen the feelings latex brought in her as that common ground, because it is deep, intimate and makes one vulnerable. It was not necessary with every woman to do that, but with experience, I found that it would seal a relationship beforehand and make things much easier after that. With Alexandra, whom I believed to be very independent, I needed that relationship since trust was going to be her role, and that had to be understood and accepted first.

“I feel that I want to be very bad, and very free.” She laughed at her remark, not quite believing that she had said it. I looked straight into her eyes without reacting one-way or the other. I decided to build her security, because there was something she was hiding.
“I have known rubber for four months. How did you get attracted to rubber?” 
She read my honesty and answered right away – a sign of confidence -, 
“A girl friend of mine discovered her husband’s rubber fetish and she was about to divorce him when I asked her if I could see it. At that moment I knew it was for me. I was looking for adventure, for something that would satisfy me. That was last year in April.”

She stopped talking knowing that she had told way too much already. I was not going to ask for any information unless she volunteered it. I just placed on her lap the catalogue of nightgowns, always a good place to start. It is intimate enough and sort of decent. We went through a number of pages. 
“I have one of these in the closet here, would you let me try it on you?”
She was surprised, but since she wanted my services anyway, and she liked the idea of adventure, she agreed right away. She undressed down to her basic underwear.
“May I put talcum powder on you, please?”
“Of course.” 

With the puff, I could excite a woman to the point she would have to hold on to something in order to keep her balance. Alexandra was no exception. I was almost finished when she spontaneously unhooked her bra. I put lots of talcum all over her well-pronounced breasts that perked up immediately and swelled half a size larger. She was so ready for an orgasm that I knew what was going to happen. 

The nightgown was mostly semi transparent with a front strip of pink, a gathered collar, and handcuffs. The back had a long and narrow triangle from the hem to the collar. In addition, there were little loops and dainty roses all made of latex. It was a beautiful garment. I helped her pass the nightgown over her head. That sudden cool feeling, the gentle, sensual and electric caress of the material was overwhelming to her. It always is. She threw her arms around my neck in the vain attempt to control feelings that were washing over her in overpowering waves. She was petite and I could feel her reveling inside the comprehensive caress of the garment. After a moment, I led her to the table where I would take care of her. She was out of herself as she lay down. Soon her legs were up and spread apart. I gave her the pink material to handle something. She covered her face with it and went into more contractions. I slapped my rubber gloves on and started with the scissors. I could have explained everything to her, but at the moment she was so far gone that it would have been anti-climactic. My touch was very light. When it came to shaving, I used a shaving cream with menthol. She was going to feel cold at first, and then hot for about two hours. I also had a jell that I decided to put in her tender tissues. That would send her to the ceiling for almost a day.

“I have discovered my sexual potential with rubber, and I love the feeling of it as you see”. She was slowly calming down now that I was shaving her legs and the periphery to her intimacy.
“Do you often dress in it?”
“Always after work. I have a nymphomaniac drive, I recently discovered, but with rubber. I have to be in it.”
“How is your husband reacting to this?”
“I was already divorced when I discovered latex.” She replied with a bitter sound. Obviously he was a man out to satisfy himself and who never bothered about her feelings. So many women are in that predicament. I did not answer to her statement knowing she would tell me more about it on her own.
“Rubber has given me a relief I had never known, and that keeps me from seeking sexual relationships elsewhere…  Friends who care are the best things in the world, as long as they are faithful…”

“Now I am going to work in a sensitive area. Let me know if I have to stop.”
As usual I proceeded top down, area-by-area. Her vagina was oozing steadily.
“Do you like that nightgown? It fits you beautifully well.”
“Oh yes… I love it…  When you are done, we shall look at other things… also.”
She would talk when I took my hands off from her. 
“Now relax. It is difficult I know. Trust me and don’t move.”

With small scissors I cut her long and curly public hair around her clit. I applied a little jell on it, and shaving cream all around. Then with the razor slowly cleared the entire territory. She was starting to arch her back by the time I was done. Pretending not to notice, I went on with care and gentle motions, all the way to her anus. Then I applied a warm washcloth and toweled her dry in small taps; with the puff I put more powder. Lastly, squeezing a big blob of jell on my finger and spread it from her clitoris down to her anus in one quick sweep.

“We are all done.” I lowered her legs slowly. That motion stretched her abdomen and crotch, all the way to her breasts. It drove her insane and she filled her mouth with the latex sheet to scream silently.
I wanted to put my hand on her stomach, but that would have been way above my role. After a couple of minutes I helped her sit.
“Let’s go over some more clothes, shall we?”

After half an hour, she had spent well over three thousand DM in merchandise, some of them to be made special and others of hers to be lined. She signed the purchase orders. I was starving to death, so was she.
“I change my hat now” I told her, “I don’t know your schedule, but I am famished. Would you mind going somewhere to eat something with me?”
Tears ran down her cheeks almost immediately. “Oh yes, I would love that.”
While she was dressing, I went to Mr.Schulz and asked him if I could take his client out for dinner. Looking at the bill, he agreed instantly. I changed into my normal clothes, but Mr. Schulz did not want it that way.
“You represent me tonight. Put on a pair of latex jeans. Your sneakers are too old. I have new ones just left of the jackets. Take also a latex jacket, the one you feel is appropriate. They will be yours if you continue doing that well.” I could not believe my ears. Ten minutes later the taxi was waiting for us. Mr. Schulz had made reservations, paid the taxi not only to the restaurant, but he had another one for me to pick me up from the restaurant to the shop where I kept my moped, and from there home. Sometimes this man was going into fits of generosity that blew me totally.

To my surprise, Alexandra was wearing the skirt she had purchased, and so we went out for dinner. The restaurant Mr. Schulz had picked was overlooking the Alster river. It was intimate and the food delicious. We sat down quietly on some sort of corner sofa, more surprised and amazed at the turn of the events. We did not know each other at all, but we soon were going to, and although I had a ton of homework for the next ten days, I welcomed that break. I called up Krista on the telephone provided for us and told her I would be back by ten thirty.

Alexandra von Gutrecht happened to be a very wealthy lady through her divorce settlement and through her family. She had no children, and that probably was one of the issues of the divorce. This is always so hard on a woman, but having gone through so much, they open up more easily.
Her eyes were devouring me, all dressed in rubber. She was wearing her dark green skirt also with a lacey white blouse and two buttons open in the front. The blouse was semi sheer allowing a diaphanous view of her half-cup bra in lace supporting the most exquisite breasts a woman could wish. She had a golden chain around her neck with a precious stone pendant that must have cost a small fortune.

After we had chosen entrées and wines, I asked her, “Explain to me, if you don’t mind, you have no problem with sexual enjoyment and responding. So, why is it that your husband was not responding to you?”
She was a little morose, but with that question felt that she could let me on the inside.
“Ken, it would make it unpleasant for me to bring up the past now, but let me tell you that until I started with rubber, I never had a full orgasm. I was frustrated with a man who was using me and letting me down every time after he had his pleasure. We both got on each other’s nerves because we never could meet on a common ground of love. We tried therapy, many things, but he never was faithful. It is not in his heart and mind. He is so insecure that he must conquer all the time.”
“Some men are like that.”
“Fortunately you are not one of these.”
“Thank you.”

She was calming down, and, the wine helping, we could exchange information about ourselves. I still was reserved that day because of Gudrun Schulz. Alexandra had more than a liking to me. The heat from the shaving cream and the effect of the jell was showing. In addition she was wearing the latex skirt, which made her a bomb on a timer once more. I took her hand in mine, and massaged her fingers, one at a time, very slowly. Her insides were sinking fast; I could see it on her expression. After a few minutes, she was leaning against me. Her left hand slipped under the table and was searching my hard-on. She obviously felt randy, just herself, a wounded woman discovering her own sensuality.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. I feel that I have known you forever, Ken. You just fit in my fantasies so perfectly I can’t believe it.”
I tried to get her back to reality. “You live in that house by yourself, so you must have lots of room for guests and such.”
“My husband did. I have very little family and few friends. Here, when you divorce, you must get a new set of friends, because the others look at you as someone they rather not be close any more. Or you find many friends who think that since you should count yourself grateful to be in their bed. Ken, I have dignity.” She was calm and composed.” I am not going to sell out my life on account of that marriage. I shall win.”
She was emotional at that point, and I realized that my opportunity to give her hope had come.

“Alexandra, is there a man in your life who would be available, the kind of man you could make a family with?” She thought for a while.
“There are two of them. They would be fortresses to conquer, but they are there and they have a good reputation too.”
“Do you think for a moment that your situation would stop them looking your way?”
“I can’t see why not.” She answered after another little “think”.
“Well, let me know what’s in my mind. Are you ready for that?” She was now surprised.
“Yes, of course, Ken. How is this that after knowing me for an hour you think you are the expert in guiding my life?” That first little fight was too good to be true.
“Alexandra, all the decisions are yours, just as they have been in your past.” I stopped for a while, letting silence build the anticipation. She could let that statement sink in, because it was true. When I saw her expression sink a little, it meant that she agreed with it, as painful as it was. Then I continued,

“It is not a question of conquering a husband, but of being conquered by the one you know beyond the shadow of a doubt that he can make you happy, and this without compromise.”
“OK, where are you leading me to. It sounds very old fashioned.”

“Has the modern method worked any better?” She blushed because the answer had been already given.
“Your first order of business is to know which ones of these two men would be most open to rubber.” She was about to answer, but held her reaction. “Next – and I am going to be forward here – if you have not given birth yet, and doctors have found no reason, it probably comes from inner tensions due to your marriage. Therefore, you need a man who is going to be extremely gentle, understanding, and quietly strong, a man who will listen to you and understand you. You also want a man who is committed, and it takes principles. When you will be at peace in your heart and soul, when you will be content, I almost can guarantee you will become pregnant.”
“Where do you find such a miracle?”
“I don’t know, but nothing stops you to wish it, and to listen to others who may know such a person. He won’t be a divorced man, for sure, may be a young widower. Try a marriage agency. That may be a way, or Internet friendship services. Be active, and the ones you think may fit are probably not the ones. The one is a man who will ride behind these successful bachelors, and discern in their trail the kind of girl who is worthy of becoming the mother of his children.”
I stopped talking at that point. Alexandra was thinking very hard.

After an opening of fish and white wine, the main dish was served, perfectly prepared. We had barely begun when a couple of musicians, one with an accordion and the other with a violin were playing to patrons. We were one of the last ones they played for, and Alexandra requested the song. It was beautiful and romantic. She was crying now. Of course, the musicians were more than rewarded, and they played another number to comfort her.

The arts are in Alexandra’s family. Her father had been a benefactor to a number of great museums and the likes. At home she has her studio at home, but she also works part time in restorations because she has a deep understanding of the painter. But her pass time is sculpture. She loves the plastic arts and will hold her first exhibit in early summer. She lives in a large house, a little further than Blankenese. During the meal, the smell of latex from my clothes and hers was heady for both of us, and we knew that the waitress had noticed it too. To make it real clear, she left a moment to go to the ladies room. While walking through the restaurant, it was obvious that her straight skirt was not made of wool. He walk was fluid and elegant, very distinguished.

I had decided not to kiss her. I was leaving this to her entirely. After desert, we ordered a liqueur that got made her warm to me.
“Am I crazy? I feel that you are living with me; I am fantasizing completely.”
“You are, Alexandra. However, you are one of the most enjoyable person to dine with.”
“Thank you, so are you. Would that be rude for me to invite you at my home?”
“I guess it can be arranged in a month or so, because I have so much school work that I can’t imagine how I could make the time.”
“Habitur?” ( = final exams before University)
“Next year! As an American, I shall finish one year late.”
“Well, there are vacation periods, and other days too.”
We exchanged addresses and phone numbers.

“I would like an invitation for the opening of your gallery.”
“You will be the first envelope I shall address.”
“When I visit you, let’s make it an evening with rubber only.”
“I did not dare suggesting it, but that would be my dream…”
She was holding my arm so hard: the cry of a lonely woman in deep need of tenderness, far more than sex. My hand was on her knee, rubbing it very gently.
“I am leaking, Ken, fortunately my skirt is made of rubber.” Her smell was sweet unmistakably.
“Well, you have enough purchases to enjoy the entire night, don’t you?”
“I tell you what, “she was excited, “when my dress will be rubber lined, I shall invite you and wear it. Is that a deal?”
“Yes, it is, Alexandra, I shall escort you with pride, because you are a special person, finding love and resources that will broaden your art, your circle of friends, and narrow down your choices in life.”
She was drinking these compliments. They were true, and she could not believe her ears.
“Just listening to you, I feel you are talking of another person, but when I think about what you have said tonight, you have given me hope, worth and an immense amount of strength. I don’t know where you get it all.”
“From people like you, Alexandra.”
“From me?”
“Yes, you draw it out of me and you give me more than you would ever know.”
My hand was rubbing her smooth thigh through the latex and her eyes were not focusing any longer.

It was almost eleven PM when the taxi pulled up in front of the Gutenbach apartment, my home for now, and I was just elated by this evening.
(I glued little things in my Diary to remember that meal)

3rd Week of January
MAIL. Monday. Krista has picked it up. Three letters: Mom and Dad… Sis… (The thickest one). Another letter :  Maria von Luebeck!
The letters from home were just great. Sis and Anita are turning the school around with their latex flings.

Now, Maria’s letter.

Dear Ken,

Forgive me for calling you by your first name. Your kindness is not leaving me. I have never met a person like you, and I don’t know how this letter will be received, but know for sure that in this world there is a young woman who will wait for you as long as it takes.
This may be disturbing to you; you may find me crazy, whatever else. I have found in you a person like I never knew existed, and without wanting to scare you, try to understand that whatever you can do in my direction will be honored, cherished, and returned in more ways you could imagine.
Would you consider coming and getting the dresses I need to have latex lined, and perhaps check over your work once more?

I am longing for your answer. Don’t wait to let me know whatever it is.

I reread these lines half a dozen times. They covered a dramatic situation, events Maria felt trapped into. She was hurting a lot. I decided for a compromise. She has money; I don’t. She will do anything because she is desperate. She also is an adult, and that opens opportunities. I decide to give it a couple of days of analysis before responding.

Esther called. We giggled for a while. She is still flying high while working non-stop. 
“Have you heard of the name “Gudrun Schulz”?” Long silence.
“She is in town?”
“Yes, and she was to be measured by me at the store.” I explained it all.
“Ken you are being tested. You handled it right. Refuse to see her again, She is deep in this intrigue, and my advice is that you have nothing to do with her.”
“I concur with you, Esther. But I am concerned for you, and I am asking you to prepare for a possible sudden move. If these people are as powerful as you say, they will find you fairly quickly. There are not millions of girls liking rubber. May I ask you to contact your girl friend on a daily basis, and if anything happens that you do not call her, we both shall be looking for you. Think of something, Esther, but I am not at rest at all. Make a strategy of some kind. If you want to talk to me, you can, but do it from a public telephone, just in case.”
Long silence. That’s to be expected.
“I will do that. Thank you for letting me knows. Can you find out how long she will be in town?”
“I’ll do my best. I think that for a few days or until we know more, we should keep apart. Do you agree?’
“ Oh yes, keep away from this, Ken.”
In my heart I knew something dangerous was going to happen and that I would have to rescue Esther. Should I talk to Brigitte Gutenbach about it? I did not know what she thought about Esther’s danger. I have no inspiration, and my heart is deeply disturbed. I decided not to go back this week to the shop. I think Mr. Schulz will get the message. Antje will help him.

Another lesson of German

It started in a similar way as the Tuesday before, but as we were in bed, in each other’s arms, she wanted to share with me her plan.
“Ken, I don’t know why I tell you this. During your Easter recess, my collection will be traveling all around Germany. I am dreaming you are with me as my assistant…” She was squeezing me with sincerity.
“If your job requires this kind of planning, I am more on a week by week basis, you can well imagine. If the opportunity opens up, I could not ask for more.” She was thrilled. 
“You do not know what an assistant does, of course.”
“I shall find out soon enough. But there is a catch, Brunhilde.”
“What is it?”
“I want you to design a line of garments for men where latex has a main part.”
Her reaction did not show much enthusiasm, but I knew it was in the workings. From now on, each lesson reviewed one of the cities we shall visit, if that trip does happen.


So far, of the many women I have measured or serviced, none come close to Karina, even Esther. I had measured her for a couple of tight garments, a nightgown, an evening gown and a sport coat. This young woman of 24 has a personality in line with her looks. She is perfect in every way I could discern. When she left, I never thought she ever would enter into my life. She is in a special class all by herself, so much higher that I thought she would never give me a second look.
Like many other women here, she is blond with very deep blue eyes. Her profile is distinctive. She has a high forehead with a low hairline and shares her hair apart in the middle to gather them in a French braid. Her expression breathes intelligence and depth. From her presence emanate vibrations and a light that cause everyone to respect her. She is not cute; she is beautiful, like a princess. What was she doing at Mr. Schulz’ store, I have no idea.
Her mannerism, her smile, all of her demeanor is characterized by finesse, poise, integrity and reservation. When she talks, one knows that every word has been thought through, and that there is much more knowledge and thinking behind them. 

It was Thursday morning, a free day in our school. The weather was nasty, as it is in January. I decided to complete all my homework in the morning and after lunch go along the Elbe River and have a cup of coffee in a tearoom where they serve good pastries also. A first date with myself. I was sure not find anybody there so that I could think of all the things happening and which ones and how I would be following them up. 
At about one PM, the rain had stopped for a moment. Dressed in my rain suit I went with my moped down to the pedestrian walk along the river, parked it there, and walked the two hundred yards or so to the restaurant. That is where we met. She was coming there from the other side, dressed in her rubber sport coat under an umbrella. I could not possibly miss her. 

It took her a little while to realize that I also was dressed in rubber and to recognize me. Her face lit up. “Ken! Wie net!” (How nice). We walked into the establishment. I hung her coat, zipped myself out of the suit, and we decided to share a table. I felt truly like a prince while in her company. Just sitting there together was a totally fulfilling experience. Little by little I noticed that we were communicating without saying a word. From time to time she would look into my eyes and smile. We both knew. She was testing me in a sense. I gave her time, a time others would never give her because they jump into a conversation when it suits them, not the other. As our wordless “conversation” went on, I perceived a woman of great depth of feeling, very wise, but cautious.

After ten minutes or so that way, I said to her, “I am listening, Carina.” She smiled that splendid smile, looked over the river, looked back at me, blushing a little.
“I have nothing to say, Ken… You give me what I need.”
I understood her. She needed companionship, not conversation. Very self-sufficient, she had every aspect of her life in its place. She appeared to know her needs and how each could be satisfied. The longer this time lasted, the more relaxed and fascinated I became by that person with such a striking brightness.

After a moment, I saw her hand inching across the table. I moved mine toward hers just as slowly until our fingers touched. At that moment, she had a quick smile and gave me a very long look, deep into my soul. That moment visited the very depth of our hearts, deeper than anything I knew existed. It came to me that with all the others, there was excitement, emotional and physical hunger and fulfillments, but with Karina it went much deeper, far deeper; there was no short cut to that deeper level. That’s where she lives, and so few are even close to that point because they do not wait for it to happen. 

I gave her my presence. After an hour or so, she asked me, “Would you mind coming here next week at the same time?”
There was no emotion in her, just kindness. She looked prepared to whatever the answer would be.
“I shall be delighted to come.” She smiled briefly, and slowly gathered her purse. 
“This is on me”, I said. 
“Thank you, Ken! But I pay next time.”
I did not ask for her card. No question. I knew that presence opens her door to love, quality time. I helped her with her coat, got dressed and we walked outside. “Bye”, we said to each other and went back our ways. 
The aftermath of that encounter turned me around. It was as if my heart had been plowed three feet deep. Here is a woman who opens a new dimension into my life, so far from the usual flirt, or the usual exchange of our lives’ interests and pasts that may lead to more intimate moments. No, not at all! Karina has an almost mystical sweetness and depth about her that radiates for the discerning person. She does not struggle to compete, she is at peace with who she is, and that’s where it stays. I can’t put her off my mind. I don’t know anything about her, what she does, where she lives, or what is her job. I don’t know if she is married, and why she bought all these rubber garments. When she came, it did not seem to be her first visit. The mystery was eating me up. Next time I go to the shop, I shall look up all the information I can find on her, but not today.

Saturday School Ball

The rain was just beginning when I parked my moped at home and walked in the apartment. Krista had just completed her homework, and she jumped at me like a little pixie: “Ken, I need you, you know. You are gone so much of the time. I need you. If you study on the sofa I shall put my feet on your lap and will stay very quiet. But I need to feel you for a while.” I just had history to review and political science, so I prepared my books and notebooks and sat in the living room. How long was she going to be quiet? I gave this plan ten minutes at the most. While I was reading, my left hand would massage one of her feet, the toes, slowly, gently. It was difficult to concentrate because at the end of that toe there is a person, expectancy. However, I noticed her relaxing, almost sleeping. Good sign. I put in an hour of study when she “woke up” and prepared some tea and cookies. 
“All right, Mr. Bookworm, time for tea.” We reviewed a number of matters about the Saturday Ball. She told me that a number of mothers had organized it, which was just as well, and that she would be named the founder of the Progressive Fashion Show. Her investiture would last one year after which time she, and only she would name her successor according to certain criteria.

I had not been following all these developments, but as I could gather, there was going to be more rubber fashions than ever. Mr. Schulz was sponsoring the garments, but he had also enrolled a number of other companies to buy advertising space in a special brochure for the event. Anyway, the budget was amazing. There was going to be a best dress award, a sexiest dress award, and an all around favorite award given by all the girls in the show to one of them. The till in these awards was not negligible either.
“There will be five displays:  Dress contest, Coat contest, nightgown contest, swimsuit contest, creative fashion design contest. Each contest would have its winner, second and third prize. There will be a prize also for the students who wear latex in school, but it will be given only at the next ball. Imagine.”
“Krista, have you noticed more latex being worn at school or in Blankenese since we started this a couple of months ago?”
“I can’t say I have, but I found kids talking about it, and some advertising clips, images, and a more accepting attitudes. Your wearing your suit every day, and I my raincoat for several years now emboldens others to wear some things, skirts, pants, etc. But you are going to see a change, I am sure. Oh! By the way, we just have enough time for an enema before mom comes back. It’s been over a week!” I had to oblige. Typical Krista!

Saturday came so fast. Brigitte was free that evening and she accompanied Krista to the ball. I had told Krista that I was going only for a while because I had too much work. There was also another reason. Since I was living at Krista’s home, I wanted to keep a low profile and have her get all the attention. So, by 10 PM, I decided to go to the ball, for by that time, the nominations would take place. The ball was going to last till midnight, but I would leave after applauding Krista. 
The ticket controllers were not at their table any more so I entered without any problem. The noise was like always, close to deafening. Lights and flashers everywhere. In five minutes the din would stop and the competitions would start in earnest. I just could imagine the girls’ dressing room with Antje and her friend working with twenty girls if not more by now. One hundred outfits! Insane! Great fun too!

At 10 sharp the lights went on and everybody was invited to sit down on the floor or on the bleachers. The band attacked the traditional themes of show business and a huge German flag in latex came down from the ceiling. The announcer, all dressed in latex as well, (very tight) could not be heard so loud was the screaming. In the end, he had to make signs to stop it, or else the show was going to be stopped for lack of time. On it went with each model walking there, about 10 seconds apart, all twenty of them including Krista, all five times. It was a stunning sight, and the crowd oohed and aahed over and over. The models were machine gunned by thousands of pictures. The local press was there. After the first walk, they all appeared for one minute in a row. The jury made of 19 students had to decide. 

Next came the coats, and next the nightgowns. When the swimsuit contest took place, the crowd was very rowdy, and it had to be stopped for a moment by the announcer to calm down the energies. The sexiest dress contest got the hormones flowing. The last part was the own designs of each student, whatever. That was the best, really funny. No sooner were they gone that the prizes were given. Krista got one for her creative design. She was totally shocked because she had opted for a one-piece pantsuit, really flowing with special designs and color mixes, and tiny flowers. She was super elegant.
I left at that time proud of Krista and realizing that in five months, she had given the school a change, a new joy, a challenge of fun.

When they were back, the Gutenbachs were happy, and how. Brigitte produced a bottle of champagne that made us all even happier. Krista was talking and talking, half of it I could not figure anyway, because it was about back stage stories, and I did not know the girls.
“You will have to tell me everything tomorrow again, but much slower, Krista. OK?”
“All right. You know, Ken, all evening I was thinking how wrong we have been towards you, because you had the idea first, and you should have been recognized.”
“Well, that’s ok! It was your turn, and you deserve it even more than I do. You are my reward tonight.” She threw herself on me and kissed me, licked me like an ice cream. Brigitte was laughing her mind off. Dear Krista!
“Oh, by the way, I want to take you out in that beautiful suit, very soon. Is it a yes?”
“Until 10 PM” said Brigitte.
“Until midnight, retorted Krista
“How about 9:30 PM?” I suggested. That settled it, and I knew that it would happen. It was about time I gave Krista more attention within reason. I knew of a concert that started at 7:30 PM. If we left at six, we still could eat decently and get there in time.

4th week of January

Four tests this week. The first one on Monday first hour. A test of German language. I hope to pass it and to show it to Brunhilde. I felt I had done well. The other three tests are on Thursday and Friday, and that leaves me time to go swimming at the public pool for two hours or so.

In Germany, the public baths are very much part of the culture, especially in the North. After the World War II, most apartments and families could not have afforded plumbing with showers and tubs. Just the hot water system was unthinkable. Still for the public good, large establishments were opened and families went to these regularly. It has stayed in the culture. 

Since Krista had tests also and it was a bad time to administer her weekly enema, I saw that window of time and took advantage of that opportunity. I knew that I would probably meet somebody there who knew me, or whom I knew.

Modern facilities are immense and quite elaborate. There is not only one pool but also four or five. One Olympic pool for practice, one for general swimming that makes waves every half-hour, one for diving the ten-meter board, and two or three pools for kiddies. Aside from this they have exercise rooms, sauna rooms, men and women, and unisex. It was just one of these days when I felt a little blue, and I needed something to perk me up. After showering and passing before the inspector, I went to the pool and sat on the edge. To my surprise, I watched two women coming out of their changing area, one of them I knew I had seen recently. With their latex swimming cap, it was difficult to be absolutely certain. Finally, it was her demeanor that identified her: Karina. The young lady accompanying her was charming as well. She was doing the talking, Karina the listening. I observed them for a while not wanting to intrude.

Karina’s body is nothing short of arresting. She has legs a woman could die for. A perfect figure. All of a sudden I realized that both women were wearing a latex swimming suit, a one piece deal, but extremely becoming, very tight though. Karina’s was black and hot pink, and her friend’s black and yellow. As an after shock, I came to the thought that I too was wearing a latex swimming trunk. I let them get in the water. This process takes forever with women; they swam to the side where I was sitting. Karina finally noticed me. I thought she would give me a friendly signal with her hand and remain with her friend. Not so. She called her friend, and explained to her that she was going towards me. They both did. It is a nice feeling to be met by the two most beautiful ladies in the public place, and to get their full attention.

“Ken! How are you?” Each word was pronounced with such gentleness and poise.
“I am doing fine, Karina, and you?” Looking in her eyes was more beneficial to me than all the pools in the world.
“Me too! Let me introduce to you Roberta, my friend. We have known each other since we were children.”
Roberta was also a picture perfect model, but she did not have a tenth of the poise and character of Karina.
“Shall we swim?” I suggested. 
“I am not too good in water sport”, Roberta admitted.
“It does not matter, we are here for fun and friendship” encouraged Karina.
So we went all three of us, laughing and talking light. 

All of a sudden, I was not paying attention, but Karina got in the back of me and pressed down on my shoulders till I was totally submerged. I could hear them giggle. I immediately knew that she wanted to score a few souvenirs in our personal history, and that was her way of telling me, ‘I think I could perhaps love you’. So, I played the fool and came out spitting water, looking very stupid. But she was not finished; down again I went. Three times in a row! Then I wondered if she wanted a reply or not. Was she egging me on? So I asked her:
“Are you egging me on?” She laughed, as hard as Karina could possibly laugh.
“May be I am!” was her reply. To this I did not react but for a sideways look; I just waited for my time. She knew it, and the tension made it all the more exciting. After a moment, Roberta had to go to the ladies room, and she left us together. Karina looked into my eyes once more, one of these looks that go down to the heart of the soul.

“Karina, I don’t want to duck you under the water. Just give me the chance to hold you for a minute or so.” She flew into my arms. I turned her around. We were in the water up to our necks. The fragrance of her latex swimming cap was intoxicating. My hands slipped to her breasts encased in rubber, and after supporting both of them, I gave them a very gentle squeeze. Then I caressed her long abdomen down to her hipbones and went back up. Her head tipped backwards on my shoulder and her eyes closed. It lasted for two minutes or so, then I let her go.
In the meantime she had felt my latex swimming trunk and my hard-on, I’m sure. She asked,
“So, you are wearing rubber also?”
“Yes, every day” I whispered. There was a long silence and a smile of understanding.
“Me too.”

Roberta came back and we swam for a half hour.
“Let us go to the big slide, shall we?” They were game. After waiting in line, Roberta went first, and Karina preceded me. They loved it, and we went down this thing two or three times.
Then, it was time for me to leave. I said good-bye, and whispered to Karina, “See you Thursday”. She smiled with a face all lit-up.
As I walked out of the pool, I noticed that everybody was looking at us. We must have been a sight dressed in these shiny latex swimsuits.
When I was dressed and ready to go, I gave a look to the pool, and saw them. Some men were trying to get their attention, but they did not give them even a split second of attention. Then Karina saw me at the window, and she waved so kindly. I waved back. My heart was pounding fast.

A Lesson of German That Becomes A Travel Plan.

Tuesday arrived with its load of work and studies. My Monday test came back much better than I had anticipated. The teacher made a positive comment in front of the class. Brunhilde will be thrilled. That made me thinks of thanking the principal for his referring me to her. At recess I went to his office. He was free to see me. We had a short moment that was real good. I showed him my test.
“We are very proud of you in this school. You have been a positive influence with so many of your schoolmates and teachers. We hope that you will stay another year and get your Habitur from this school. Will you consider it?”
“I sure will. Thank you for everything. You have been so supportive of me and my parents are very grateful to you.”
“Since you mention your parents, I have a report for them here; your English teacher will translate it for me unless you want to do it.”
“No, I rather not see it, and have my teacher translate it. It will mean a lot more for them. Thank you so much.”
“What are you going to study for the science fair?” 
“I am preparing a project on the chemistry of natural polymer and the formulation for various industrial applications.”
“That sounds fascinating. I hope you get the first prize. That may mean a lot in your professional life later on. Work hard.”
“Thank you for the opportunity. All right, I should be going to class. Good bye.”

That evening at 6 PM, I could feel that Brunhilde had a very “gemuetlich” plan for us both. Also, I had to take back my suitcase with all the things Brigitte had loaned to me, because I was just about sure she would ask me about them, and I did not want to abuse of her kindness.
Brunhilde had the dress I had given her at Christmas when she opened the door. Her expression was an exclamation point.
“Your principal has called to report to me how you are progressing in German. I explained to him the huge efforts you make to learn our language, to memorize poems, novels, history, literature, music and architecture. The poor man was taking a university level class on the phone…” We laughed ourselves silly. My storm suit off, I embraced her tenderly,
“Brunhilde, thank you for wearing this dress, that means a lot to me, you know how to do the right thing.” She was touched with my sincerity and responded,
“To be accurate, that’s all I have on!” She let the words sink in and we both laughed again. She got away from me, and ran to the office, when I got there, she ran to the living room, and from there to the kitchen. She wanted us to romp around and so we did. I pursued her, almost catching her (I did not want to rip that dress apart); she ran upstairs, so did I, and we went from one room to the next, around the furniture. Suddenly I hid in a corner and stayed put. Not seeing me come, she ventured looking for me.
“I know you are around”. No answer. “I shall see you before”. No answer. 

When I saw her pass her back turned, I moved and placed my hands on her eyes. She was startled, not a little, and swinging around like a fish, she grabbed my arm and ran to her bedroom to finish this game between the softness and sensuality of the rubber sheet. She undressed me in less time than it takes to say it, and was all over me.
“Ken, squeeze my breasts, please, I need you so bad”. As I obliged, she was in tears. Her sexual energies were all bottled up and she was craving for orgasms. This time, I had taken a vaginal vibrator. One I knew to be Krista’s sister, unused for month. The batteries were still good. I had cleaned it with alcohol and soap, so it was safe. Her canal was oozing so much that jell was not needed. 
“Brunhilde, you are going to have many orgasms now, and after a while, we shall have one together.” She did not mind, although she did not know what I had planned.
“Let me do, ok? I will not hurt you at all.”
“I trust you, Ken, but do it soon, or else I am going crazy.”

The tool was curved to massage the G-spot. Its thinner support did not provoke a stuffed feeling, but gave leeway for other sensations. The introduction went well, and she relaxed enough to enjoy the procedure. Before turning the vibrator on, I caressed the entire surrounding region in order to raise her sensitivity. 
On the first setting, many things began stirring, and the first of several rolled on her. After each orgasm I stopped the vibrator to rest her and rekindle her with other caresses and sweet words. However, the feeling of the latex sheets amplified the entire experience tenfold. As the effort made her sweat to the rubber, I would put some talcum on her, and the static properties of latex would kindle her skin again into an orgy of impulses that overwhelmed all attempts to resist them, if she would have chosen to do so. On the contrary, I noticed her drive to absorb more and more from the rubber; her hunger for that erotic material brought her to mindless reactions. Sometimes, in the storm of the crisis, I would swish the sheet all over her; as a result she would loose it, loose all controls, loose herself into the wave of sensual chaos that bounced her like a ping-pong ball. After a couple of minutes of rest, the whole operation would start all over again, on and on, until I could leave the vibrator on non-stop. From there, she became a mass of hysterical orgasmic matter. I kept it on until she almost fainted. Then I lay on top of her. She needed that feeling of a man covering her, imparting her strength, calm and meaning. She had shivers, she was jerking still from orgasms that were not completely gone. I chose that moment to slide into her. It was sweet and slow, she came one last time, gently, softly, and that gave her strength.

Well, to be honest, two hours of lesson was spent in bed, but my teacher was finally ready to teach me German and condense her two hour classical program into one hour. The problem was that we were both famished.
“Brunhilde, we are starving. There is also a little matter. I have to return these sheets to my landlady. She has not said anything, but I don’t want to have her ask. So, if you don’t mind, I want to pack my smaller suitcase and take them back.”
“Can you get some from the store?”

“Of course I can. However, they are not as nice as these. What I can probably do is to bring these on Tuesdays and order another set for you, if that’s ok.”
“I want you to do that for me. Let me know of the price and I shall give you the money.”
“I’ll call you on Thursday. What color do you want them in?”

Around delicious pizza and wine we went on with our plans for March.
“We begin in Frankfurt. We stay two days there. Then we go to Koeln, Essen, Manheim,  Stutgart, Hannover, Bremen, Hamburg,  and Berlin. It will take us two weeks. If it takes longer, I put you on a train, and you will be back here the same day.”
“You will have to talk to my landlady because this is big, you know. I will talk to my parents about it and get their permission also. However, don’t forget our deal. I need your design for a latex outfit for me.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am. I shall wear it sometimes on this trip.”
“Ok, then you will have it next Tuesday.”
“Thank you. Now do you have a couple of dresses you want lined with rubber?”
“Oh yes, I was about to forget that. Take them along in the case.”
She specified the colors, and I wrote all the indications.

Back at home, Brigitte had a night shift that week, and that allowed me to rinse the sheet and pillowcases and prepare them before storing them. The next day she asked me about them, and I could tell her that everything was in place. She did not ask further questions.

Karina: an ever-greater mystery.
On Thursday noon, I biked to the Elbe River, to the restaurant where I was to find Karina.
She was there waiting for me. She was smiling, quiet, relaxed at a little table off the window. We looked at each other. I sat down; she took both my hands in hers. I noticed a small tear on the corner of her right eye. The battle raged inside and she did not want to let me see it. I squeezed her hands and relaxed before I started caressing her fingers with mine. She liquefied emotionally; she was looking at me, but her gaze was not focusing.
“Karina, I said, I have been thinking a lot about you. I very much want to know you. I can’t express what I feel, but there is a voice telling me that we could gain a lot in a friendship. It does not have be too fast and far, just times together here and there. What do you say?”
She did not have to talk. Her body language spoke volumes. She was not aware of it at all. After coffee, we walked hand in hand along the river. She was in a dream. We did not talk at all; the time would come. When we left, she said,
“Ken, I cannot begin to tell you what you are to me…  Thank you.” I waited before answering.
“You too. Bye Karina!” She was not ready for kisses yet, so we smiled at each other.

On Thursday evening, Brunhilde’s order was placed, and Mr. Schulz was very proud again. 
“I have two measurements scheduled for you.” When I saw again the name of his niece, I asked him to have Antje take care of her.
“I feel awkward servicing your relatives. If you don’t mind, let someone else do this.” Mr. Schulz was a little taken back, but he said nothing. The other lady that was waiting went back on her decision to have anyone touch her. Just as well. I only measured her, and we talked a great deal since we had time. She purchased a lot of things. Since money was a problem, we decided to structure three orders. Everything went fine. She was tall and beautiful, about forty-six years, and strikingly young looking for her age. She reminded me of somebody I could not place though.
“I have two daughters, beautiful young women. I want to send one of them to you because she could use some latex garments. She needs to attract a man. She does not seem to know that they exist. She makes decent money. Sell her the best. Her name is Karina.”
“And where do you live?”
She gave me the same address Karina had given me. Obviously the mother knew nothing about her daughter’s fetish.
“Don’t worry about your daughter, when the right man comes along she will open to him, I am sure.”

A difficult letter

Maria’s letter in front of me cannot wait any longer. The more people I see, the less I feel answering it. Still, at the time I was sincere, and I cannot bear losing in that area. I shall give her one chance, and things will go back to business, that’s all.

Dear Maria,

Your letter is on my desk, and I thank you for it.
As I already told you in the store, you are exactly what I said, and, if I were you, I would not think otherwise about myself.
Although my schedule is overcrowded, I want to come to your home and pick up these dresses. If you want, we also can go out for pizza. What about the second Tuesday of February at 6 PM? Let me know if this is convenient. Ken

PS. Are you still satisfied with your purchase and services?

Short and sweet. Besides seeing a little more who she is, I can get 300 DM of business to Mr. Schulz. 

A walk with Krista

It turned out to be a date, but we began the evening very early since we had a 9:30 PM curfew. I knew a Texas style steak restaurant, not too far, where square dancing and polka is going on all the time. I felt that something different with a young woman of seventeen was better than more intimate places, which I could not afford easily. She was wearing her latex pantsuit under calf length her yellow raincoat. She is an attractive girl, a head-turner. We walked over to the bus stop. Public transportation is totally acceptable in Germany for all purposes and reasons. Seven stops later we were at about 400 yards from the restaurant, and we took our time to walk without any hurry. 

Krista was talking a mile a minute. I was attentive half of the time because it was an overflow that had to go first before we could talk deeper. There was a cute little park with a pond and ducks in it. We detoured there and watched them for a moment. She was holding my hand; her hand was cold. 
At the restaurant we were seated on a first-come first-served basis. We had a cute table, not too far from the dance floor, but quite private and sheltered from the blast of the sound system. Krista felt like a queen, and indeed, she looked like one. She was not walking, but flowing, since the shimmer of latex made everyone of her gestures a moving statue. She drew the attention right away.

“You dance only with me tonight, Krista.” I had never realized the power of her attire on all the males of the house. “It is a protection matter.” She laughed, but knew also that she was all to young to be on her own. 
“I am not interested in anyone here but you.” She leaned over and gave me a long kiss on my mouth so that nobody would believe otherwise.

We ordered our dinners, and by desert time, the band played some German dance music, polkas, and other tunes. The place was more full by now, and several people were dancing. Krista and I went to the dance floor. By the time I took her she was enthralled and going with the music naturally. She was beautiful to watch and to be with. On slow tunes, she would hug her body to mine. The feeling of that warm energy in this shimmering latex outfit was more than attractive, it was erotic, but in a nice sense because it was beautiful to watch. We noticed many more coming to see us closer. 
After three or four dances, we went back to our table and rested with cool deserts. We had a wonderful time. 
“Ken, how do you like our country?”
“Does that look like I miss America?”
“I would like so much to open up Germany to you, but I am still a school girl, and I have no means. If you were here in three years, it would be an entire different situation.”
“Krista! Don’t ever be sorry. You are a lot to me here. No one can be what you are, don’t you see that?”
“Yes, but you seem involved with so many more people and things, travel and week-ends. I wish I was part of it with you sometimes.”
I realized that it is true, and that I had been too spread out.
“You know what? Let me think it over, but I promise you that within a couple of weeks things will be changing and we are going to spend more time together… but as brother and sister. You understand. I love in your family.”
“Whatever it is, Ken, take me out, do things with me, I need a big brother. OK?

After dinner we felt like a walk, so we went with the bus to the main street, and looked at windows. We stopped at a small jazz restaurant and had hot chocolate. It was real cool because one of the musicians was a New Orleans native.
We came home just on time, and that did not go unnoticed by Brigitte. Krista had been so sweet that I whispered to her, “You may come in my bed at 3 AM if you want.” Did she ever want it.
I was fast asleep when I felt a latex dressed emotionally hungry young woman not only alongside me, but wanting to be held, squeezed, and crushed. “Ken, I want to be so close to you. Hold me, hold me hold me, please. I need you so bad…!” She was shivering with pleasure, with want, and I knew it would not take much for her to have an orgasm, although I would not have intercourse with her.

Another Concert With Esther, or was it.

The following Saturday, I got a phone call from Esther inviting me to a concert in one of the downtown church: a full oratorio of Mozart. I accepted.
“Don’t come dressed in latex, Esther.”
“Why not. I go to most concert dressed like that.”
“Not tonight if you want my company. I shall explain to you why.”
I and went early. I wanted to check if there was anyone there I knew. I felt that Gudrun might be there. This girl was trouble, I could feel it. I spotted seats that would allow me to see everyone, and to make an easy out with Esther, should it be necessary. These seats were not too noticeable. I had put on clothes that blended me well in the crowd, and a jacket with a high collar. After most people had arrived, Esther showed up. I was ready for her and she spotted me right away. We sat together.

The concert started. Esther was all ears, but my eyes were on the door. Sure enough, Gudrun showed up in a latex raincoat. Since our section was full, the usher brought her to another place. I pushed Esther’s arm very hard. “Do you recognize this woman?”
Esther almost screamed and covered her face in her hands. “We will have to leave before half time, she whispered.”
“That’s okay. I know she is looking for you. She knows you love music, baroque music and she is checking places.”
Esther was so nervous that she decided to leave right away. “Go first, I follow you in one minute. Wait for me across the square at the coffee bar.” She put her scarf over her hair and face, and left on tiptoes. A good two minutes later I left too, but I did not cross the square, I went in another direction to hook back through another street. I wanted to make sure I was not followed, and that Esther was not followed either.

She was waiting for me, not in the restaurant, but in the door of the house attached to it. When she saw me, she grabbed my arm. “Let’s go this way, there are people I know in that place. They did not see me”, and walked into another little street away from the lights. That street led to another avenue with traffic on. We walked for half an hour without saying anything. We both knew that changes were about to take place, and that our relationship was going to be affected in some ways. 

“Is there a way for you to get a new identity?”
“Yes, there is, but it is not cheap, and it takes time.”
“Have you packed some of your things?”
“Yes, most of them are. I am prepared for a quick move.I know I have to go. Besides it is almost the end of the trimester when I can break my lease. I will do it when I am gone.”
“I would like you to go to someone private for some time. Apartments are lonely and vulnerable. Would you allow me to look for something for you?” 

“Oh, if you could, Ken, you would save my life.”
“I shall also put your furniture in storage in my name. This way there will be no record of you, assuming they know you go by Esther.”
She was weeping now. “Why did I drag you into this?”
“Esther, don’t cry. They have not found you yet, and we have a few days. Where do you think they would least expect you to be?”
“In a wealthy home.”
“All right. Let me do some searching.”

I was thinking of Maria von Luebeck. My letter had not been mailed yet, and I could just as easily give her a phone call. 
“Give me Sunday and Monday. Call me Monday evening from another phone than yours. OK?”
“All right.”
“Have you got a girl friend where you could spend the next couple of nights?”
She thought it over for a while. She knew that explanations are always so difficult. 
“I know the lady who cuts my latex garments. She would understand.”
“Tonight sleep at home. Talk to that seamstress from a phone booth tomorrow morning; then move your things tomorrow except the furniture. I shall take care of that on Monday. Order a taxi for your things. Then you go there with public transportation in the early PM. Tell the lady to call you if anything goes wrong. Do you have a duplicate key of your apartment?”
“Yes I have one here.”
“When you leave, keep the lights on, but cut the cord of the telephone. It will look that you are still in, and if they phone to you, it will not sound dead. I may go there and check if someone is watching.”
“Ken, don’t. I don’t want you to be recognized, spotted, whatever. They are smart, you know.”
“All right, I may offer Mr. Schulz to work on his niece and get some information on her whereabouts in Hamburg. I refused her two times already.”
“No, don’t do that. It would look suspicious. They would wonder why you changed your mind. My disappearing on the same day would look like an likely coincidence.”
We had a plan, and that was ok.
“Now what about your job?”
“I’ll call in sick.”
“You may have to take a leave, you know… Let me find out if there is somebody who needs lots of home care so that you can hide out for a while.”
“Ken, you are too much.”
“Look, Esther, this is no joke, you said so.”
“I know, I know.” She was almost weeping again.
“Now, you take the train, watch every face you see. Keep your scarf hiding you the best possible way, and go home. I am going home too. Ring once when you are there. I shall ring once in return. If things go bad, ring more times.”

We left each other after a long kiss and many caresses. We both cried, but that could not be changed. It was my first handling of an emergency situation. I had read lots of spy stories, and I loved every minute of this adventure. On my way home I stopped in a phone booth and called Maria von Luebeck. She was shell shocked to hear me.

The end



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