Downhill ski racing. One of the most spectacular individual winter sports, involving women in a tight spandex suit. A blast for any tight clothing / spandex fetishist. It’s even better when the racer is one too.
That was Karen’s case. She was a tight clothes fetishist, but she was also a top competitor on the World Cup Circuit.
That’s why her downhill racing suits were somewhat special: they were very tight. Those hi-end, high-tech suits are cut to fit the racer to perfection and comfortably, but that was not tight enough for Karen. She managed to distract the suit company representative long enough to alter her measurements, to make her thinner so the suit was tighter. Way tighter.
It wasn’t a secret for anyone that Karen liked tight clothes. When off the slopes she was the one wearing the tightest pair of jeans amidst the athletes and her picture was everywhere on the Internet. She was fit and she had a killer body.
But being a top competitor meant hours and hours of training, in gyms and on the slopes, and that can quickly become boring. That’s when she had the idea of combining some of her fetishes with her training, making everything more… pleasurable.
She started by wearing a dildo under her spandex gym tights, or under her training suit, but she was quickly becoming wet and it was showing. She thought that she had the solution when she saw latex panties with dildos. Double dildos to be exact. That was keeping her excited and her suit dry at the same time. That made the training sessions a lot more fun. Some of her colleagues often asked her where she took that smile. She never revealed her secret.
Race day. She was on top of the hill ready for the 2 minutes crazy downhill. It was the first run of a two runs race, the two times being added.
She removed her warm pants, revealing a body covered with skin clinging satin shine brightly coloured spandex suit. It was very tight and followed every move of her body during her warm-up exercises.
It was her turn. She took place in the little starting gate and concentrated on the constant beeping of the gate timer. She made her skis glide alternatively, creating a single crack under her firm and fit bun. That suit was extremely tight!
She was off! She immediately took the tuck position, gliding on the icy surface, being as aerodynamic as possible. The first turn, the first bump. Everything went well.
Half-race. Already her heart was pounding hard and her lungs were burning. She was concentrating on the race course but she could feel her overly tight spandex suit biting her crotch, sending her a little wave of energy.
One more curve, one more bump, one more hill to go down. The finish line went by like a flash, and she was quick standing up, pushing hard on her legs to stop her 80km/h+ finish speed.
She stopped at the end of the braking zone and looked at her time while raising her hands. She was second! Only one other racer had a chance to beat her. As she bent to unfastened her skis, she had a smile. There was bound to be someone in the crowd that was as tight spandex fetishist, that was having a ball right now, seeing her bending down, witnessing the too small spandex suit stretch hard over her butt. She raised back up and put her weight on one leg as she waved at the crowd. She knew that was creating a huge crack under her right bun. She could feel it. She liked it.
She walked out of the braking zone, stepping awkwardly on her stiff ski boots. As she passed the narrow passage she lost balance and ended-up on the fence. A gentleman was very nice to hold her as she regained balance. She was sure he used this opportunity to glide his hand along her thighs, to feel the silky spandex. She steadied herself and started to walk again, but something or someone was dragging her thigh.
“Miss Karen! Caref…”
That was the man that held her. He didn’t have time to finish his phrase. Disaster had struck. As she lost balance and hit the fence, her suit was inadvertently poke by a loose nail on one of the posts. The tug she felt was the nail holding her suit, but now, as she felt the cold air sweep her thigh, she knew it was a disaster: her suit had been torn open by the nail. Half her thigh was visible.
She quickly unhooked the suit off the post and ran back inside. She rushed to her trainer.
It was bad. Very bad. A Downhill suit is very precious. Every racer takes great care with it, because a simple misplaced fold can create drag, costing only a few tenths of a second, but it could mean the difference between a first place and a fifth place.
Now her suit was torn open. Even if she could fix it, the stitches would create drag, as well as create pressure points on one leg only, putting her off-balance, which could be very dangerous at 100 Km per hour.
“I don’t think we’ll be able to get you a new suit by tomorrow. I’ll do whatever I can. In the meantime, just mentally prepare yourself for using your spare suit.”
Karen looked at him with a tear on the corner of her eye: He didn’t have the faintest clue.
Her spare suit. It was generally the suit from the prior year. It was still in good condition and not damaged too much. The problem was that, in the many years she’s been competing, she never had to use it, nor anyone else in the team, so she had it somewhat… modified.
She was wearing her dildo panties more and more. Of course, in most training runs, she was wearing her spare suit, preserving wear and tear on her racing one. She had some thoughts. She liked the feel of latex on her buns, and she wondered how it would feel to ski completely covered in rubber. So she got herself a latex catsuit and started to wear it under her stretch spandex suit. She liked it so much that she was wearing it almost all the time, except at race time. That was until she was almost caught with it. She removed her glove and the spandex suit sleeve had run up her arm of a few cm. The tight and shiny black rubber of her catsuit was clearly visible. A co-racer saw it and asked what that black rubber band was. Karen answered that it was an orthopaedic sleeve because she hurt her arm at home. That went rather well, but she had to find a way to make sure that it would never happen again.
She bought another catsuit, but transparent this time with a front zipper. She put it on and then sprayed it with slow drying adhesive before adding her spare spandex downhill suit. The glue took many hours to cure, leaving time for the suits to get in place. Once done, she carefully removed it, and took out the latex catsuit zipper and every rubber part that was showing. All that was left was a rubber lined spandex suit.
That went great, except that she was getting hornier and hornier. So much that she decided to glue her dildo panties directly into the suit. She ended up with a spandex racing suit, lined with transparent rubber and with attached dildos. What a blast.
That day, the big problem was that this very specific horny suit was the only one she had left. Wearing it, getting disturbed by the dildos while having fun on the slopes was okay, but now you’re talking about serious racing at very high speed. Too much distraction can result in a dreadful accident.
If the suit had only been lined with latex, that wouldn’t have been that bad, but there was the dildos. She shivered when she imagined herself, transported to the hospital and the look of the docs and nurses as they found out what she was actually wearing.
By next morning, she had used all her options. She couldn’t tell that she didn’t have it, and she certainly couldn’t tell what it had become. She tried to tell her coach that she had somewhat modified it, that it wouldn’t be proper for the race, but he said that he would not receive a new suit in time for the race, that whatever the modifications were, she should live with it and learn from it to never modify a spare suit. That would be a lesson.
So in the privacy of her room, she lube the shafts and proceed with the suit. She was shaking. Would it show?
Bending down to fasten her ski boots created some interesting sensations that would have been great in other circumstances. That didn’t stop her from having a wild fantasy: she always wondered how high heel ski boots would feel like, as she tried to imagine what they would look like.
She zipped her warm pants over the suit and she was off for the top of the hill. The ride up proved quite disturbing. She wondered if she had made the right choice. What if she finishes in the last position? How would she explain it to her coach?
She tried to concentrate on the race. As she alternately glided her skis on the start position, she felt the dildos move inside her. She looked at the racing results. Her biggest competitor was already down with a heck of a leading time. To get to the first place with the cumulative time, Karen would have to be 4 seconds faster than her.
“This is going to be hellish pleasure”, she thought as the last seconds of the countdown were beeping. The thought of winning was not there. The thought of finishing was.
And off she was. The first drop, the first curve, the first bumps. Every little bump, every little effort was making the dildos move, especially when she was into the tight tuck position. Another turn, another bump. She kept pushing harder and harder on her legs, trying to concentrate on the race, not on the fire that was raging inside her. Another turn, another drop, another jump. She exploded on the landing, but to her surprise, although she felt it, and it gave her great pleasure, she didn’t lose it. She stayed on the track and was getting down fast toward the finish line.
She crossed the laser line and applied the brakes. As she slowed down, she was hitting small bumps after bumps after bumps, effectively pumping the dildos inside her. As she glided to a stop, she exploded again. Tired, exhausted and having a ball at the same time, she let herself drop on her back, panting heavily. The crowd cheered loudly. Very loud. Too loud. As the last wave vanished, she rose on her shoulders and looked at her racing time. She couldn’t believe it! She was in the first place, 11 seconds in front of the previous leader! Eleven seconds! And she made a new course record!
She skied like nobody else had ever skied. She had run the perfect line, the perfect curves. She ran faster than anyone else ever did.
As she tried to walk out of the braking zone, she felt the dreadful dildos work again inside her. Her coach went to her, congratulating her on an awesome race.
“Gee” he said “You never did that with your new suit, yet you do it with your old one! What’s so special about it? What modifications have you made? Tell me and I’ll have the whole team with the same modifications.”
Karen smiled. How to tell him?
© Pete / monsterp63, December 14, 2005
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