Secret Boutique

My hands trembled slightly as I gripped the Camry's steering wheel. Today I was finally going to do it. I had arranged for a day off from work. There would be no time constraints, no lunch hour pressure. The boredom I had felt with Mark, and the fear that it might be bad news for the relationship, was compelling me to try something new. It took nerve to call the place up and get directions, but here I was driving downtown. This was certainly going to be a more interesting day off than I'd had in years.

My destination was on Constitution Avenue, the main drag. I briefly feared someone from the office might see her, but put the thought out of her mind. Besides, what business would they have downtown, miles from the office?

I was grateful for a parking spot on the street, not an easy task at this time of day. I fed the meter and walked up the block. The Secret Boutique, an exclusive fetishwear shop, was new, recently opening in an old tailor's shop. The heavily tinted windows made it difficult to see inside. I removed my sunglasses, my blue eyes squinting in the bright noontime sun, and checked my reflection. My sandy-colored hair fell in a bobbed cut around my jaw, framing my face in a soft halo. I smiled widely, making sure my lipstick didn't smear my teeth. Casually dressed, in comfortable jeans and a cute Japanese cartoon character T-shirt, as well as my well-worn Doc Martens, I felt perfectly anonymous. I was simply one of a thousand shoppers going about their business. Swallowing nervously, my heart pounding, I rang the bell and was buzzed inside.

Coming in from the bright sunlight it took my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. I blinked a few times, trying to orient myself. Totally blind at first the only sensory input I got was the aroma of leather mixed with incense and... rubber? I was barely able to make out the outlines of the shop when a friendly voice behind me called out, "Hi! Welcome to The Secret Boutique!"

I jumped. After my pulse returned to normal I turned to greet the voice. "Can I help you?" asked the clerk. She didn't seem too weird for a fetish purveyor. A cute twenty-something in a white-blonde crewcut, her green eyes sparkled mischievously. Dark, blood-red lipstick accentuated her smiling mouth, and the color was repeated on her sensibly short fingernails. She dressed in a simple, long sleeved black minidress that hugged her body nicely. A few silver earrings and a long silver chain with a fairy pendant were her only jewelry. The overall impression I had of her was that of a mischievous elf. At first glance I thought she was as tall as me, but then I noticed her beautiful boots, the only tipoff that she might have been into her merchandise. Form-fitting and reaching to her knees, made of shiny black leather and equipped with four-inch stiletto heels, they accentuated the lines of her very nice legs. I would have killed to find a pair of boots that hot.

The salesgirl smiled and reassuringly rubbed my shoulder. "Relax! I'm not here to hurt you." Extending her hand, she smiled once more. Her eyes twinkled charmingly in the dim light. "My name's Debra. Nice to meet you."

"Sara, hi."

"Well, Sara, this is a no-pressure shop. Take your time. Gather your thoughts. We get first-timers in here all the time. They're confused and a bit nervous, but very curious at the same time. It's like they've been waiting to do this their whole lives and the moment has arrived. It can be quite a powerful moment."

Breathing deeply, I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I just got nervous. You're right, I've never been in a place like this. I guess I just got overwhelmed. I don't know what I was expecting-Madame Vixen's Dungeon or something."

"Well, this isn't a dungeon. I may supply the costumes and a few props, but that's it. Besides, I'm not zoned for it." She giggled. "Just kidding. So tell me, what brings you here today?"

I blushed, nervously smoothing my hair. "Jesus, this is embarrassing... I saw your ad in this magazine. You see, it stirred up certain... ideas. My boyfriend, Mark, is a great guy and I love him to death. We've kind of stalled out in the bedroom department, though. When we have sex at all, it's kind of blah. I was hoping I could jazz it up a bit." Debra nodded knowingly, smiling in a comforting way and not interrupting. I relaxed a bit and continued.

"Mark's a cartoonist, and if he isn't watching fifty-year-old Looney Tunes videos he's squirreled away in his studio reading and drawing superhero comics. Knowing his penchant for goofiness it's entirely possible I'll wind up one night in a Bugs Bunny costume, being chased around the house by a boner-wielding Elmer Fudd. 'Scwewy Wabbit' takes on a whole new meaning, if you follow me. A little kinkiness is all well and good-well, a lot of kinkiness is all well and good, but if things are going to get weird I want to be in the driver's seat!" I breathed deeply and smiled. "Well, there you have it. My life story. Please, be gentle with me."

Debra laughed softly. "I promise you I won't bite. Why don't I show you around? I might be able to make a few suggestions."

Recessed lighting gently illuminated the store and Enigma played on the stereo, just loudly enough to create a relaxed, otherworldly, slightly erotic mood. Racks of fetish clothing surrounded them. I owned a leather jacket or two, and had once borrowed a girlfriend's leather miniskirt for a date, but the thought of creating an entire ensemble of leather, or some even more exotic material, dazzled me. The aroma of fetish clothing hung in the air like an aphrodisiac. Debra lit several candles and dimmed the lights, making the shop even moodier. The butterflies in my stomach began to be replaced by another sensation.

Debra asked me if anything had caught my eye. I hesitated, unsure, with a bad case of option anxiety. Debra rummaged though a rack on the wall and held up an item. "Why don't you try this latex catsuit? It seems to be your size."

I snorted amusedly. The outfit hung shiny and shapeless, looking smaller than a child's swimsuit. I doubted it could even be used as a swimcap. It felt cool and smooth in my hands as she examined it, and the fragrance of latex wafted under my nose. I inhaled deeply, and thought of being encased in such a material. What would it look like? What would it feel like? In a thickly aroused voice, I said, "Okay, let's go with this. I'm not exactly Pamela Anderson, but what the hell!"

Debra smiled her pixie smile once more. I began to feel quite at ease with her. "This stuff is skin tight," she cautioned. "Everything shows, so off with the bra and undies. Use the baby powder and dust yourself all over. It'll help you get it on easier. If you have any problems, give a yell and I'll be right there."

I stepped into the tiny dressing room and drew the curtain closed. Once naked, I gave myself the once over in the candle-lit mirror. My dreaded thirtieth birthday last month had left me in satisfying shape. My smallish breasts, with their perky, friendly nipples, hardly needed a bra. My hips and thighs were full and firm, toned nicely by uncounted hours on the stairmaster. I observed with pride the dense patch of pubic hair nicely under control, recently trimmed into a reasonably tidy triangle. I smiled my standard wide-mouthed smile, silently thanking my father once again for the braces those many years ago. The dear man drove an old clunker for years, just for me. Mark should be in as good a shape, I thought.

I dusted myself powdery white from my chin to my toes and set to work. The latex was tighter than I imagined. A great deal of tugging and pulling followed, as it clung to itself and to me at the same time. When I had managed to get the latex over my hips, I smoothed and straightened the seams of my newly rubberized legs. The catsuit's zipper, I discovered, ran down its back and extended between my legs, ending slightly above my pubic area. Hmmm, easy access, I mused. I bet that comes in handy for any number of situations.

Shrugging the rest up over my shoulders gave me the upper body workout I'd skipped the last few days. After a bit of arm-twisting gymnastics, and the realization that my arms were not as long as a gibbon's, I reluctantly called out. Debra entered the cubicle and stepped behind me. "Breathe deeply and hold it," she said over my shoulder, and slowly worked the zipper up. Fully encased in dusty latex, I felt as if I could hardly breathe. The suit hugged me closely everywhere, stretching across my ass, my belly and my breasts. My nipples poked out visibly, creating two black pencil eraser-sized nubs. The pixie behind me lightly ran her hands across my shoulders and down my arms. It felt marvelous.

"You know, Debra, I wonder if Jacques Cousteau was into this stuff," I said. "Why else spend fifty years in a wetsuit? Fish can't be all that interesting."

"It's entirely possible, now that you mention it. Although the knit cap is a fashion statement I don't particularly care for." Debra gave me the once over, appraising how her customer looked in the catsuit. She tugged here and smoothed out there. Stepping back and smiling, she said, "That's practically a perfect fit. How does it feel?"

"Tight. I feel like I've been shrinkwrapped."

"You look great." Picking up a small spray bottle and a soft cloth, Debra said, "Dressing in latex is quite a chore, as you now know. The baby powder gets all over everything. The best way to bring out the shine is to polish it. May I show you?" I nodded, and Debra squirted me. I felt the stream strike me through the latex and the coolness of the lingering liquid on my new second skin.

Debra began gently buffing. I admired how the dull, dusty rubber transformed into a gleaming, glassy surface. She buffed my arms from my shoulders to my wrists, lightly gliding back and forth, up and down. Her touch was light and businesslike as she wiped, but something about the thinness of the latex diffused the feeling out over my entire body. I enjoyed the slow, circular massage as she worked over my back, and bit my lip when Debra turned me around and began gently polishing my belly. I closed my eyes when I felt a squirt on my breasts. The pixie clerk methodically buffed the area in a gentle circular motion. My nipples thrust out even farther when Debra's polishing hand flitted over them. "I'm sorry if this seems a bit personal, but there's really no other way to do this," Debra said. "Let me know if I'm making you uncomfortable."

Are you kidding? I thought to myself. I've never felt anything like this in my life! Small rivers of sweat poured down my spine and into the crack of my ass. My crotch, too, was dripping, but it wasn't just sweat. My excitement was building, as Debra gently caressed first one leg and then another, slowly buffing in what seemed to be a maddening tease. My hand drifted absently between my legs. I could feel my heat radiate through the latex. With Debra's hands massaging my ass I began diddling harder. I was on the verge of cumming when my fingers collided with Debra's, who was finishing up her exquisite torture by polishing the last bit of latex between my thighs.

Blushing furiously, I jumped, nearly knocking the clerk over. Fighting simultaneous arousal and mortification, I stammered, "Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I just forgot... I mean, I... well, to be frank, I'm pretty fucking turned on right now!" Embarrassed to the point of tears I turned away, not wanting to face Debra.

Debra smiled sweetly and gently put a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. I understand. It's an incredible sensation. Some people cum just thinking about it." She brushed back a stray wisp of my hair from my red face. "Come on," she said. "It's time for the finishing touches."

After exploring several accessory options, I was particularly fascinated by a pair of blood-red patent thigh-high platform boots. Even in this outlandish assortment they leapt out from among the other shoes. The soles of the boots were two inches thick and the wicked looking stilettos towered a good six inches high. They were so powerful-looking, so incredibly sexy, that if Satan were a woman-or even if he weren't-these would be the shoes he'd wear. I removed them from the shelf and eyed them from every direction. I smiled in delight when saw my reflection in them. Running my hand over the shiny surface I made a small yummy noise. "Here, feel this," I said. I ran the gleaming shaft of the boot across Debra's cheek, and the clerk smiled knowingly. I put the boot on the floor and held it up to my leg. "My God, I've never seen boots like these! Talk about fuck-me shoes. I want them!"

Debra took me over to a comfortable chair. I marveled at the flexing and tightness of the latex as I sat down. The stretching material massaged me in a hundred places at once. As I enjoyed the new sensation Debra returned with the proper size boots. I slipped my right foot inside its matching boot and Debra gently extended my leg until my ankle rested on her knee. Debra wrapped the shaft up and around my leg. Holding the boot together with one hand she reached down and slowly worked the zipper up, smoothing and straightening the boot as she went along. When she was finished the boot ended less than six inches from my crotch. The process was repeated and I stood up shakily, like a new-born fawn.

I took baby steps around the store with Debra beside me, hand on my arm. Getting the hang of the heels, I sauntered around the store, figuring out my new stride. I walked straighter, more confidently. There was a sense of power in wearing this costume that I never expected.

Debra handed me a pair of red latex gloves. After I pulled and smoothed them on over the catsuit with assistance from the clerk, the opera-length gloves tightly hugged my arms, reaching almost to my shoulders. "Maybe I should wear this to my next class reunion," I smirked.

"All right, let's have a look," Debra said. She took me by the arm and walked me to the floor-length mirror in the back of the store. I almost didn't recognize myself. I was a dynamic, gleaming black-and-red latex superhero in the moody lighting, the type of naughty supervixen that comic book fanboys could only dream of. In my new heels I towered over Debra and I grinned with delight. Small reflections danced across my gleaming new body as I pirouetted. My nostrils were filled by the growing fragrance of latex as my body heated the costume. I was drenched inside the catsuit, with sweat and excitement. The costume hugged me so perfectly that my aroused nipple-erasers threatened to burst through.

Debra stood beside her new creation triumphantly, like a proud parent. She smiled knowingly and caressed my gloved arm. "It's amazing how latex can enhance any figure. You were quite lovely before, but just look at you now!" She rummaged through a nearby drawer. "Would you like to try a hood? We have all types, but I think this one is best. It covers the face..."

"No thanks," I said. "If Wonder Woman doesn't need a mask, I don't think I do." Staring at my new identity in the mirror I absently began fondling myself, only to stop when I realized Debra was still next to me. "My God, Debra," I said huskily. "I feel like I'm going to explode!"

Debra smiled. Her eyes sparkled again. "Hey, that's the name of the game. Why spend all this money if it gives you the same reaction as a housedress from K-Mart? You look fantastic. You made the right choice." I hugged the salesgirl tightly, marveling at the feel of holding another person through the latex. Debra hugged back, casually brushing her hands across my latex ass. I didn't resist.

I strode back into the dressing room as fast as I could in the six-inch stilletos. I observed myself in the mirror for a long time. My tousled hair, flashing blue eyes and flushed face contrasted with the gleaming black that hugged my neck, ending just below my chin. Shiny red gloves caressed gleaming black breasts, tweaking and caressing my nipple erasers. Playfully smacking my ass, I quivered as the latex deflected the vibrations throughout my body. Small squeaks were heard as my gloves reached between my legs and rubbed.

Throwing my street clothes off the cubicle's chair, I sat down, raised my magnificent boots and planted them on the sides of the mirror and studied myself as I continued rubbing. The catsuit's convenient zipper was pulled down ever so slowly, and I imagined steam billowing out of the opening like a train at a station in an old black-and-white movie. My trembling gloved fingers reached inside and caressed the sensitive, highly aroused flesh within. I pulled myself apart and viewed my sopping wet sex, flushed and pink, glistening with excitement, an island of organic pink in a sea of high-tech blackness. I entered myself easily, sliding in and out with a deliberate rhythm.

I languidly pulled out after a while and brought my dripping glove to my face. The musky smell of female arousal combined with the sharp aroma of latex and I inhaled deeply. I tasted myself, licking and sucking one sticky finger at a time as I diddled with my other hand, watching myself the entire time. My breathing became ragged, the sound mixing with the animated squeaking of latex rubbing across latex. My hips began to buck in the chair, and it bumped loudly against the dressing room wall. Fingering myself faster, my gloved fingers finally making contact with my throbbing clitoris, I blasted off into orgasm. Shuddering, nearly passing out, I slumped in the chair, panting, head spinning, feeling for a long while that I couldn't remember my own name.

When my head cleared, I became vaguely aware that Debra was staring at me through the curtain. With my open catsuit revealing my well-satisfied pussy, magnificent sexy boots straddling the mirror and the strong smell of latex and female filling the tiny room, I slowly pulled myself together as if still dreaming. Debra entered the room, smiling her pixie smile, brushing strands of sweat-slicked hair off my flushed face.

"Are you okay? You got so quiet in here."

"I'm fine, Debra. Just had the biggest orgasm in five years."

Debra's face brightened with amusement and satisfaction. "Excellent! I'm so glad you decided to come in today. I wasn't sure you'd make it."

"What?" I didn't decide I was coming here until this morning. How did you know?"

"Sorry to spook you like that, but I have to ask you...you do have a star-shaped birthmark on your inner left thigh, correct?"

Now I was really spooked. "Y-yes... but..."

"If you must know, I'm a little psychic, and I dreamt last night that a young woman with a star-shaped birthmark would be in today. I tried to cast as many spells this morning as possible to make it happen, and here you are!"

"Psychic? Spells? I must say, Debra, that you can be one hell of an orgasm buzz-kill, as well as a Class A bullshit artist. I chose to be here. I wasn't conjured, or whatever you call it."

Debra smiled her pixie smile once more. The twinkle in her eyes reminded me of a diamond flashing in sunlight. "I know, I know. I can't make things happen. I just try to help them along is all. You certainly enjoyed yourself, though, magic or not."

"I sure did," I replied. "I don't know why I wasted so many years taking my days off in the mall when I could have been masturbating in a latex catsuit in front of a total stranger. What a misspent youth."

I returned to my civilian identity reluctantly. The several hundred dollar hit to my Visa card was well worth it. "I'll be back soon, Debra," I said as she professionally folded my new outfit and packed it in a discrete black shopping bag. "Who knows what the future may hold? Well, maybe you do..."

Smirking, Debra held up a pair of black latex panties with a huge dildo jutting out from them. Arching an eyebrow mischievously, she said, "We also have them in men's sizes with the dildo on the inside. Maybe your boyfriend might enjoy it?"