The Latex Dress
by
Beverly Langland
SMASHWORDS EDITION
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Beverly Langland on Smashwords
The Latex Dress
Copyright © 2011 by Beverly Langland
Smashwords Edition License Notes
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The Latex Dress
I was frigging myself furiously when I heard the front door close, followed by Jessica calling out for me. Her sudden return had me caught between two minds. Whether to stop, or force my orgasm. I knew I couldn't stop. I had already gone too far. So, I frigged myself faster, worked my fingers harder, trying to ignore the distractions outside my bedroom. I could hear Jessica in the kitchen, then in the hall, obviously seeking me out. I fucked myself as hard as I could, eyes glued to the unlocked bedroom door, the danger of Jessica catching me so blatantly abusing myself increasing my excitement, not diminishing it. A small part of me hoped that she would walk in before I had finished. It didn't quite come to that. The sound of her footsteps on the landing was enough to drive me over the edge. Biting my lip to stifle my cries I came on my fingers, and rolled away with my back to the door just as the door opened. Breath ragged, I waited.
So did Jessica. The sound of the impatient tapping of her foot sent shivers up my spine. I had broken Jessica's house rules and knew she would punish me. Still, feeling petulant I gave myself a few minutes to gather my senses before I dared turn to face her. I could feel my face still hot. Despite a valiant effort on my part it was nigh on impossible to hide the flush of my orgasm. "Having fun?" she said, towering over me in her heels. Jessica had been to a trade fair, so had dressed head to toe in latex. Encased would be a better word, for the clothes clung to her voluptuous curves. Jessica sat on the edge of the bed. "I can smell pussy," she said. Then, without warning, she took hold of my arm and raised my gloved hand to her face. She held my fingers to her nose and breathed deeply, looking directly into my eyes. "Well?"
I felt my blush deepen; the hot flush burning my cheeks almost matched the intensity I had felt between my legs moments before. My embarrassment increased when Jessica parted her pink painted lips and casually slipped my forefinger into her mouth. She sucked on the latex a moment before running her tongue along the length of my finger playfully. "Don't worry," she said, untying my ankles and pulling me upwards off the bed. "I'm not going to eat you. Unless you want me to, of course." I knew that wouldn't happen. Jessica often teased me this way, but she always denied me the pleasure of her tongue. "Why don't you give me a little fashion parade? I see you've slipped into the electric blue."
I moved towards the handcuff key on the dresser, but she stopped me. "No, leave those on," she said, nodding towards the handcuffs I wore. "Now, out on the balcony." I stared at Jessica with suspicion. Had she seen my blatant display earlier?
"Don't argue; just do as you're told!" Despite her harsh words, Jessica playfully patted me on my bottom and ushered me out onto the balcony. It seems crazy now but I let her manhandle me. For some strange reason I felt even more exposed than I had earlier, especially when her hands encircled my hips and she spun me around to face the busy street. "Keep still," she whispered against my ear. Then, before I could protest, she laid her hands on my breasts, cupping them in full view of the street below and the apartments opposite.
"What's going on?" I managed, though my throat felt suddenly parched.
"Isn't this what you like? I watched you from across the street earlier, exposing yourself like the little slut you are."
I'm not a slut, but there seemed little point in arguing with Jessica. I should explain that Jessica has a powerful personality. For some reason, I always end up behaving like a submissive schoolgirl in her presence. Looking back, I believe that's the reason she took me in as a flatmate. She saw some quality in me that pleased her. I guess I regard Jessica as an authoritative figure. Strange, since I had recently left home and the oppressive authority of my parents. I know nothing of dominant and submissive personalities. Not in any sexual way. I guess I have always been a little timid, but it took Jessica to show me just how timid I can be. Timid, like a bird, she said.
As she continued to caress me, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, so hard it threatened to burst through my ribcage. My breathing grew ragged. I was aroused beyond reason. I know I shouldn't feel excited by the callous way Jessica treats me. Yet, I was excited. I truly was.
My journey into servitude started out as a game. Jessica is a fashion designer and after a few days living together, she asked if I would model some of her clothes. It would have been rude to refuse. In fact, I was flattered she asked. Only her clothes aren't the glamorous dresses and high fashion I expected, but latex fetish costumes. She showed me a rail of items stored in her wardrobe, chose a rather tight fitting corset, and said I should start with that. She left me on my own to discover how to squeeze into the thing, how to tie the laces. I finally emerged into the living room out of breath and somewhat bemused.
Jessica smiled as I turned to show off the corset. "Come closer my pet, you look so sexy."
For some reason a warm emotion swelled within me and I almost purred like a kitten when Jessica stroked my head. Then, before I knew what was happening she bent to kiss me. I didn't resist. I merely stood entranced as she wrapped her arms around me, embracing me within the latex corset. I'll admit that ever since I moved into the flat I had been attracted to Jessica. In my eyes, she is a goddess, and I am not immune to her considerable charms. Before that moment, I had fantasized about making love with her, but I didn't have the courage to initiate anything. I doubted she even knew how I felt about her. Then she kissed me and I knew I would do anything for her.
What she wanted was to tie the corset tighter. "It is a bondage item," she said, "and should be treated as such." When she had finished I could barely breathe and my poor swollen breasts had pushed high on my chest. "Now go and put some heels on. The black ones."
I found them beneath the rail of clothes. Ankle boots with heels so high I knew I would struggle, since I had only recently started wearing high-heels at all. I even found difficulty bending to put them on. I managed to make the living room without incident. However, when Jessica instructed me to walk a circuit of the room, I slipped twice. I looked for encouragement and support from my mentor, but instead I met Jessica's angry face. How quickly she had changed! "I see you need some sort of incentive. Bend over the table."
Disbelief followed my confusion when Jessica produced a small paddle and I realized she intended to spank me. She did—spank me—and I don't know to this day, why I allowed her to do so. The spanking wasn't too harsh since I still wore the latex corset. I have had much worse punishments since. On my second attempt, I made a full circuit and Jessica's wonderful smile returned. She called an end to the fashion parade then. A few days passed before she asked me to model a second time. Again, she found some fault with my performance and she spanked me, this time I suffered the ignominy of baring my bottom. I felt perplexed. Why did I adore this cruel woman?
There have been many fashion parades since then, and they always end with Jessica spanking me. You may wonder why I allow this mistreatment to continue. The answer is simple. Jessica has a thing for latex, a thing for spanking, and I have a thing for Jessica. Jessica knows, I'm certain, that the spankings arouse me, despite my reluctance. There was plenty of evidence as my pussy swamped with moisture. Yet, Jessica would kiss me once, and then send me to my bedroom, where I would often masturbate. It was almost as if she had put me through some sort of training or conditioning, for I quickly associated wearing latex with my arousal. All this time Jessica remained aloof of my yearning for her. Then followed the cruellest blow. Jessica banned me from wearing her clothes or masturbating without her permission.
My life, once so ordinary had taken a surreal turn. Without knowing how, I had placed myself in the hands of this older woman. Did exactly as she asked. I managed not to masturbate for quite some time, but it was inevitable that I would break the rule at some point, especially since she often left me alone in the flat. I ventured into Jessica's wardrobe and spotted a short, low-cut, shiny dress of the most shocking blue. I sought out a pair of full-length latex gloves with a matching pair of high-heeled shoes. Both in the most outrageous pillar-box red.
I couldn't wait to get into the outfit. I headed straight for my bedroom, calling out for Jessica, knowing (hoping) there would be no reply. The dress looked smaller and the heels higher than I first thought. Still, I was keen to squeeze into them. I stripped out of my day clothes then held the dress against my skin. The feel of the latex against my bare flesh felt wonderfully erotic, especially since now Jessica forbade me touch her clothes. I slipped the dress over my head, wriggling my whole body into it as the material clung to me in its body-fitting embrace. I felt my confidence rising as I put the clothes on. The dress was short and tight and a little uncomfortable, the hem barely below my crotch to be honest.
The dress clung to my breasts to the point where I found it a little awkward to breath. Somehow, the restriction only added to my rising excitement. I could feel my nipples hard and erect against the material, which yielded compliantly to their gentle poking. I could clearly see their outline in the mirror. I slipped on the shoes and took a tentative walk across the bedroom. I could feel the backs of my calves straining at the unusual angle as I walked and nearly toppled several times before I found my balance. The shoes were uncomfortable, but the mild discomfort was worth it.
I walked back to the mirror and was shocked at the image I presented. The outfit looked stunning. I looked stunning! The high heels forced me to stand with my back erect, my bust jutting upwards and outwards. I looked the part—a complete slut. I felt wonderful. I had never looked so sexy, so sultry, and so sluttish. The image I projected made my whole body tingle.
I poured myself a measure of courage then walked out onto the balcony. Immediately the cool evening air hit me. It danced around my body. It encircled my legs and sort out my nakedness. As I felt the night-air kiss my pussy, I shivered, not only from the chill but also by my rising excitement. I realised then that I had been deliberately teasing myself ever since I'd spotted the dress in Jessica's wardrobe. I opened my legs wider, feeling my bloated labia part slightly. The cool air encroached further and I could feel its cooling effect on the hot nubbin of my clitoris, enticed now out of its protective hood. I was aware that anyone passing on the footpath below only need glance up to see my exposed nakedness.
Inwardly I willed someone to do so following several people with my eyes. My excitement mounted as two women glanced in my direction but moved on without their stride faltering, too busy talking to each other to pay me any heed. In frustration, I called out to a young man and enquired of the time. He looked up and my heart skipped a beat as I saw his face blush, his eyes almost popping out of his head. I moaned gently to myself but deliberately held my stance, revelling in his lecherous glare, knowing that he had a perfect view of my exposed pussy. At that moment, I desperately wanted to touch myself, to shout out to the man and the passing world to watch me rub my cunt. Nevertheless, my mind screamed in warning, so I thanked him and slowly turned and went back into the flat.
As soon as I was inside, I pressed my fingers into my sex, feeling my engorged lips part easily. I half ran, half hobbled to my room, my hand still pressed firmly to my crotch. I fell onto the bed, my chest rising and falling heavily in my excitement. Could I disobey Jessica? I had already in part, but to go the whole way... It was already too late to worry and besides, I desperately needed release and had every intention of masturbating.
I rummaged in my bedside drawer and retrieved the handcuffs and restraints I had discovered in the room when I first arrived. I fastened my feet to the footboard of the bed and then handcuffed my hands together. Don't ask me why I felt I should bind myself. It somehow felt fitting. I could still move and free myself whenever I wanted, but the contrived set-up gave the illusion of bondage. I let my imagination do the rest.
I teased myself for some time. After all my effort, I didn't want to come too quickly. After a time I removed my hand from my crotch and brought it up to my face. My mind screamed in protest but a new sensation was already distracted me—the unfamiliar smell of latex mingled with my own familiar scent. I held the encased fingers under my nose and breathed deeply, my nostrils flaring as they filled with the strange concoction. I placed an index finger into my mouth and wrapped my lips around it, my tongue licking my own juices from the digit. On impulse I half-twisted to face the mirror and looked into the face of a young slut. It was me, but it wasn't me. Perhaps it was an inner me escaping. I soaked up the scene, watching in fascination as I dropped my hands back to my pussy and pushed a rubber encased digit into my yielding flesh. My pussy swallowed my finger easily. I again slid the finger into my mouth. I repeated the procedure, pushing the finger into my sopping hole to make sure I had covered the digit with my juices before sucking them dry. Soon I was wet enough to insert two fingers at a time, then three, my pussy fully engorged and nearly as red as the gloves. My excitement rose out of control and I knew that release was close at hand. I tried to edge it closer, whispering obscenities to myself. From then on, I was too aroused to stop, frigging myself furiously when Jessica caught me.
And so I found myself back out on the balcony, waiting for Jessica to punish me. It appeared that this time I was not to be spanked, but paraded for anyone to see. Jessica squeezed my breasts roughly. The shock was enough to bring me out of my reverie. "Now, spread your legs!" To emphasise her point she nudged the inside of my foot with her own. Bizarrely I obeyed the best I could, somewhat restricted by the tightness of the dress. Then her hand was in the small of my back, forcing me to bend forward until my torso lay over the iron balustrade. "There's a good girl."
"My, this dress is short and I know you're not wearing underwear." Jessica ran a hand up the back of my leg until her fingers hovered tantalisingly close to my exposed sex. I shifted nervously as she slipped a fingertip between my bloated lips. "Keep still! Any moment now I'm going to slip this finger inside you and fuck that little slut cunt of yours."
"Jessica!" I was stunned. Jessica was one of the most refined women I knew. I'd never even heard her swear. Yet the language she used came straight from the gutter and of course, she still had her hand up my dress. Both of which made her words and actions even more shocking. Even more exciting!
"I believe you mean mistress. Say it! Beg me to put my fingers in you."
I looked up and down the street nervously. "Please, not here. Someone may see."
"Surely that's the point. We want everyone to know you're my slut don't we?" She pushed on her finger until she had buried it deep inside me—then waited patiently while an approaching couple were directly below the balcony—then pushed a little harder, a little deeper. I had to stifle a moan as the force of her jabbing fingers took me unawares. Admittedly, it was a slender finger, but the fact that it was Jessica's finger changed everything. It felt impossibly large. I couldn't believe how it filled me so.
Satisfied with my reaction she slowly withdrew the offending digit. Deliberately slowly, I thought. Jessica wanted me to know that she was in charge. To be honest, the fact that Jessica toyed with me out in the open excited me beyond reason. I had no idea why. Perhaps it was the fact that I let her. Did I truly have submissive tendencies or was I simply a slut as she proclaimed? Did it matter? All I wanted was to feel her fingers inside me. I told her so.
This time I felt two fingertips toying at the entrance of my sex. Again, Jessica briefly slipped the digits inside me only to completely withdraw them when I was ready for more. I tried but failed to hold on to her invading fingers, my pussy juices making the latex slippery. She left me to cry out in frustration. "Please!" I pleaded.
"Now, this is getting interesting," Jessica whispered. "Though, I think you can do better Sophie. Tell me what you really want." She replaced her fingertips into my heat. They nestled there, not moving until I could stand her torment no longer. "Fuck me," I whispered.
"What? Out here on the balcony?"
"Yes."
Jessica's fingers started to move slowly. "Like this?"
"God yes! Faster."
Jessica obliged. "You really are a slut Sophie."
I wasn't in the mood to argue. "Harder," I coaxed.
A sure hand pressed into the small of my back, held me steady, while Jessica's fingers pumped into me—faster, harder, just as I had asked. I raced towards another climax at an incredible rate, and I feared the wonderful feeling would end too quickly. It did. Once again, I was too close to avoid the inevitable. Sensing me tense Jessica suddenly stopped. Again, she withdrew her fingers. "No! I'm so close," I protested.
"Oh, you'll come, but only when I want you to."
"Bitch!" I wasn't thinking straight. All I had to do was touch myself, but I wanted Jessica to touch me. I needed her to make me come. However, she had me exactly where she wanted me and she told me so in no uncertain terms.
"You'll pay for that remark. We'll see who the bitch is." Jessica ran a finger through my wetness, drawing the moisture up into the crease of my buttocks until her fingertip lay poised at my puckered anus.
Bottom play was new to me. "What are you doing?"
"You want to come don't you?"
"Yes, but... Jessica!" My protest came too late. She jammed her finger deep into my arse. "Now don't be coy," she teased. Her fingers were once again at the opening of my sex, gathering more juice, lubricating my anus with her fingertip. Teasing. Insistent. Pressing against me, demanding entry until I could resist no longer.
"Make me come!" I pleaded, pushing my bottom backwards against her finger, knowing I was implicitly giving her the permission she sought. She did make me come, sliding her finger past my sphincter in one easy movement and deep into my rectum. I came violently as she plundered my rear orifice. I danced on her finger like a marionette. She held her finger deep within me until I stopped shuddering. Only then did she slowly withdraw the invading digit.
Still shaking and hardly able to stand I turned to face my tormentor. Her eyes were glowing wickedly. I didn't know what to say.
"Not what you expected?" It certainly wasn't. I remained mute as Jessica smiled and casually stepped out of her skirt and dropped the fabric tantalizingly at my feet. "I always feel so much better after a good hard come, don't you?" She didn't wait for my reply. I watched as Jessica undid the ties of her corset and headed into the flat, letting the material trail seductively on the way. Her beautiful bottom transfixed my eyes as she moved. Of course, she knew exactly the effect her display would have on me. Jessica paused, making certain I was watching, then stared directly into my eyes—challenging me—before reclining on the sofa and spreading her legs lewdly.
Without hesitation, I hobbled after her—restricted somewhat by the tight latex and ridiculous heels—and slowly fell to my knees. Jessica's green eyes sparkled as I crawled between her thighs. I felt obliged to thank Jessica—my mistress—the best way I knew how.
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About the Author:
Beverly Langland has been penning erotic short stories for as long as she can remember. She started her journey writing about ‘darker’ damsel in distress themes, but over time, some of her characters have insisted they develop lighter personalities with the emphasis more on love and romance. However, Beverly maintains erotica will always be the overriding theme of her stories. Beverly’s stories have been published in both print and e-book editions. Find her on http://www.beverlylangland.net.
The Latex Dress is the second story in the Latex Lovers series.