It had been a long way and a lot of work for her to get everything she wanted. In fact, it wasn’t not at all what she wanted, but it was all she could afford.
Her dream was to be encased in a very tight rubber suit, but her low income forbids her to buy most of the stuff required for it. She found some alternatives, searching through classified and E-Bay.
She was able to get herself what she considered her prized possession: a smooth skin wetsuit. She got it from the classified ads of a triathlon magazine. Those were very rare on the used market and out of price when brand new. The only use for smooth skin wetsuits was merely triathlons, so those suits were high tech and high priced. She found this one cheap because the woman who was selling it had it made to measure. So selling it was tricky because the buyer had to have a similar shape, assuming that the buyer was a triathlon athlete herself and wanted the best possible fit.
The suit was perfect for Karen though. First the athlete was way skinnier than herself and like all high end athletes, had almost no breast. But Karen found that she had either an extremely thin waist or she liked it very tight in that area. The athlete was also taller than Karen.
Nevertheless, the measurements suited Karen: Suit too small but a wee bit too long provided for the most coverage and the most comfortable wear. Something like a wetsuit being too short pulls on the shoulders and is quickly uncomfortable.
For Karen, the fit was perfect and she eagerly wore it almost all the time when she was in her small apartment. In the winter, she even wore it concealed under her snowsuit. With time, she was able to buy neoprene socks, glove and hood, and also a neoprene ski mask. That made for an almost complete neoprene hood, leaving only an opening covering the eyes.
The suit was made for someone with little breast. Karen had a full pair, so the suit squished them quite heavily, creating a wonderful feeling. Also the thin waist compressed her in a delightful manner so much that she decided to look up for a corset.
She found a used PVC one in the billboard ads of the local fetish shop. It was too small for her waist, compressing it to five inches, but it was cheap. It was slightly worn out testifying that the original owner had worn it quite often.
Yes it was too tight and she couldn’t fully close it, but she liked it, and within a few months, to her own disbelief, she actually was able to fully close it.
Her next dream item was a pair of knee high ballet toe boots. Again, they were out of price until she found a used pair on E-Bay.
She had a deception when she got them as they were too large for her feet and although she could put them on, she couldn’t stand up in them. Until she tried them with the neoprene socks. It worked! The fit was perfect, and the neoprene added so much cushioning that she was able to keep them for hours. She once spent a whole weekend in them, wandering around in her apartment. She got quite good at walking in them.
So, she had everything she almost wanted. Of course, it was no replacement for a real made to measure rubber catsuit, corset and ballet boots, but it was a nice alternative, and cheaper.
The only thing missing was the… sealing effect. Yes the neoprene somewhat sealed her in, but it was porous and absorbed the perspiration. With latex, she would be soaking in it, she would feel the layer of sweat building and moving between her skin and the latex.
The alternative she found for that was to buy a PVC sweat suit. It was a cheap and an effective way of doing it.
That night was a long wait. The hot summer nights prevented her from dressing as she wanted to sleep, but that night was filled with a full moon, clear sky and cool air. It would be the first time in over three weeks that she would be able to dress up. She was shivering at the thought.
Early after dinner, of which she made sure she didn’t eat too much but took a lot of sweet liquid to supply her sweat glands, she proceeded with her dress-up.
First, the only pure brand new latex item she got: a pair of panties with double dildos. Those she had to buy new. She inserted them carefully with a lot of lubricant. She moaned as the large intruders penetrated her.
Then was the PVC sweat suit. It was cold but would quickly warm up. She sealed the joint at the waist with tape. She put her feet in plastic bags which she also sealed with tape to the leg of the sweat suit. Finally, PVC examination gloves were put on and sealed with more tape to the sleeves of the suit.
The next item was the corset. Her breath shaking, she wrapped it around her waist and pulled on the laces. Slowly, the corset shrunk, compressing her waist, pushing her organs up and down. Her breathing became shallow. She felt aroused and had to hold herself not to go play with the dildos. She didn’t tighten it to its fullest. She still needed to bend to finish her dressing up.
She proceeded with the neoprene smooth skin wetsuit, feeding the legs until the waist was pretty much at its place. Gliding the suit on the PVC sweat suit was rather easy. Well, it helped as it was extremely tight. Next she put on the neoprene socks followed by her ballet toe boots of which she laced very tightly. The neoprene was absorbing any bumps the lacing was producing. The boots were sturdy and well held in place, and the most amazing, she felt comfortable in them.
Then she got up and looped the laces of the corset to the doorknob of her bedroom door and walked away, pulling on the laces, tightening the corset until both ends met. She expertly tied up the laces in the back.
With difficulties, she pulled the wetsuit over her shoulders and fed her arms through the very tight sleeves. Before pulling the back zipper she put on a plastic bag with holes for breathing and for her eyes then her neoprene ski mask, then the neoprene hood with a large yoke she worked under the shoulders of the suit. She smoothed everything in place until it was comfortable. She grabbed the pull-strap of the suit and pulled the zipper shut, inch by inch, leaving time for the suit to stretch to close the too wide gap.
Then she let out a sigh. It was almost done but already the feeling of being totally encased and sealed, compressed by the tight neoprene. Already, she could feel her sweat running down her back, down her legs. She closed her eyes and had a shaky breath. There was still more!
She put on a rubber gasmask which she fit tightly around her head. It only had two circular windows for the eyes. The final touch was the neoprene gloves.
She was all set. She sat in front of the TV to watch it. She couldn’t hear it, her ears being deafened by the plastic bag, the neoprene hood and the gasmask. Add the sound of the breathing through the mask and she was pretty much sound proof.
She watched the TV show, feeling her dildos through the thick neoprene layer. She got up and walked around the small apartment, getting more and more aroused with each step. She ended up in bed, gently stroking her crotch and it wasn’t long before she had one of those wonderful orgasms like she liked.
By then it was almost midnight and she quickly fell asleep.
She was dreaming she was wearing a nice and shiny full rubber catsuit, laying on a sunny beach, getting cooked by the sun. She could feel the sweat running down her spine. With each move, she could feel where the sun had warmed it.
But she shouldn’t be under direct sun with a black rubber suit. That would be deadly, much too hot. She felt someone shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes.
Everything around her was glowing red and yellow. A cloud of smoke appeared to be floating over her. Where the hell was she? Hell? Her shoulder was shaken again and she turned to her side, ending face to face with another gasmask, but this one had a large visor, and behind it, the surprised eyes of a man wearing a yellow rubbery suit! A firefighter!
He talked to her, but his voice was muffled by his own gasmask, and Karen’s muffled the rest of it. He grabbed her by the arm and got her to get up, leading out of the apartment building that was totally engulfed in flames. He let her down the corridor. They were on the seventh floor. Suddenly, the floor under Karen’s feet let go and she fell one level. The firefighter was able to stay up. Karen was laying on her back. She was fine, the thick neoprene had absorbed most of the impact. But that floor let go too. She fell unhurt one level down, but this time a lot of debris fell on her, most of it in fire. She felt as if cans of liquid were pouring on her. She struggled to get up, to get out of there. As the flames were licking her suit, she managed to crawl to safety where the firefighter grabbed her and led her to a nearby window where a long ladder was waiting.
Karen was sweating like hell, and feeling burns all over her body. She imagined herself disfigured, her skin badly damaged. She was looking for air. As she was taken down by more surprised firefighters, she lost it and everything became black.
She was slowly awakening. She opened her eyes and saw the bright white ceiling of her room. White? Hers was green! What the hell… Yes, right. The fire! She felt all engulfed and feared for the worse: badly burned, totally wrapped in white bandages, scarred for the rest of her life. But when she put her hands to her head, she felt nothing but… neoprene. She put her arms in front of the lenses of the gasmask she was still wearing: neoprene. It was even shinier than before. But why is she still in her suit? Usually, the doctors and nurses would have cut it off as soon as she arrived.
She tried to get up and was surprised that it was… easy. She sat on the edge of her bed. She had a glimpse of her in the mirror and startled: She was covered with a layer of shiny pitch black rubber. She had never seen anything so shiny except in fetish magazines with a lot of oil on the rubber. Then she realized that the straps for her gasmask were gone, and that it appeared to be fused with her hood! She frantically searched for the back zipper of the suit and found… none!
A doctor entered.
“Ah, I see you’ve woken up. How are you feeling?”
“Strange.” She answered, the sound of her voice muffled by the gasmask.
“I must admit that you’re an interesting subject and a curiosity for science, my dear… Karen, is it right?”
“Yes. But what happened? What is this?”
“Well, according to the firefighter report, you were found in your bed wearing what looked like a scuba diving suit. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” She said, lowering her head. “I have that fetish…”
“No need to justify yourself. Some sleep naked, some sleep dressed up. Actually, that very suit saved your life! Apparently the fire started in the apartment below yours. The guy was playing with solvents when things got out of hand. At first, the solvent produced toxic fumes. He died instantly and you should have too, but your gasmask saved your life, and your suit saved your skin as the mix it became was very corrosive.
Then when the firefighter found you, he led you out of your apartment, then you apparently fell two levels down.”
“Yes, I think I remember that.” Said Karen.
“Do you also remember receiving some liquid on yourself?”
“Yes, something like that. It felt cold as if I was hosed down.” She said.
“Well, when you fell on the fifth floor, many cans of solvent located on the sixth floor burst open and you were sprayed by the mix or chemicals. This mixture apparently prevented the flames from burning your suit, but the heat was still there.”
“Hence the results.” She said, rubbing her shiny arm.
“We think so, but we also believe that the mix of all of it, the gas, the heat, the solvents, the fire, created the final results.”
“That the zipper disappeared along with the straps of the gasmask?”
“But why did you keep me in it? I mean, are you sure my skin is intact?”
“That’s the big scientific puzzle we have now. We couldn’t remove the suit because… it IS your skin.”
Karen went wide-eyed.
“But I don’t feel anything when I touch it, like if it was still my wetsuit.”
The doctor took her hand and a scalpel. She made a little cut on the tip of Karen’s finger and pressed on it. To Karen surprised, blood spilled out but merely a drop as the suit appeared to have sealed back.
“See?” said the doctor. “I’m cutting the neoprene, but it’s filled with blood and is closing quite fast. What if I told you that we actually cut it open from your neck to your belly button?”
Karen looked at it. Nothing was showing.
“Exactly. It closed back behind the scalpel almost as fast. We merely got a stain of blood. I don’t know what happened, but you now have a rubber skin. The same for your gasmask and your boots. Everything melted together. There is no seam visible, and it has blood flowing through all of it.”
Karen was speechless. She didn’t knew if she had to scream of fear or scream of joy. There she was. She couldn’t expect more! She had a rubber skin that was feeling tight and rubbery. Every move sent waves of pleasure. She was stuck for the rest of her life in ballet toe boots, rubber suit, corset, hood and gasmask.
She looked at herself in the mirror, rubbing her hands along the tight and shiny coating of her body. It was as shiny as a mirror, and even the slightest touch was arousing. She imagined the heat and the chemicals, melting the suit, reaching the layer of sweat behind the PVC barrier, everything mixing, seeping through the pores of her skin, assimilating it, getting everything together, making one with the suit. She would like to know, and would help the doctor with all she knew. But to the doctor’s dismay, who was prepared for her to fall into tears, she said:
© Pete / monsterp63, July 17, 2006
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