|
Heather 19b (ff)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
HEATHER AND HER ADVENTURES PART 19B BY "RAMAPO"
The next shop was across town, and she took a taxi. In spite
of her recent experience, the shower had freshened her. God,
what kind of underwear are they fitting me for if they had to
take body castings of me in heat like some wanton fleshpot?
Maybe I AM a fleshpot? Jes, Jan had sure known her way around a
woman's body. And she was so direct. There wasn't any
pussy-footing around (she giggled at the silly pun she just made)
with Jan. Need swollen tits? Suck them evenly until done. Need
a body casting of a sexed up body? Suck it and fuck it until
ripe, then maintain temperature until well done and the crust is
hard! Her little dialogue continued, until the driver pulled up
in front of a small shop on a side street. The curtains were
pulled, but a small sign on the door simply said, "Custom
Tailoring for Women, Come on In" and a smaller plastic sign sat
over the door pull said "Open". She pulled the door open and
stepped inside.
There were racks and racks of clothes in very neat rows, of
styles and types for all occasions. No one was in sight, so she
did a little browsing. Soon, she noticed that these were all the
latest fashions for everything, from Milan, Paris, Tokyo.
Stepped right off the pages of the fashion mags just hitting the
streets in the last few days. And there were no price tags. Or,
interestingly enough, sizes either. But the designer labels were
there. Just one of these outfits was going to cost Amy more than
than Heather's salary for an entire year. Ouch. Well, a couple
of these would be fantastic.
She didn't notice the attractive brunette who had come up
behind her, and she jumped when the brunette said, "Heather?".
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you and you startled me a bit.
Hi! Yes, I'm Heather."
"Hello, my name is Susan. This is my shop. Do you like the
things I have out? See anything you like for yourself?"
"Gosh, these are fantastic! I just got here. But from
looking for a few minutes, I'll take them all!"
They both laughed. Susan said, "Amy has made arrangements
for everything, so don't worry about anything other than whether
the clothes are right for you and the circumstances. I pretty
much know what we need to do for you on the business side of
things, and you can guide me on the social side."
"Social side? Amy never mentioned that. So, we are going to
select clothes for after work as well?"
"Oh, yes. Amy never does anything halfway."
Heather thought, God, you've got that right. At least, she's
never done ME halfway yet. What an appetite that babe's got.
Susan went on, "Amy left it up to me to select a complete
wardrobe for work. That will be at least thirty outfits, and as
many pieces as we can put together. You should have enough parts
to make up about one hundred arrangements, so you never ever
appear the same way more than two or three times in a work
season. Of course, next year, you replace everything. Mustn't
get behind the times, you know. Everyone would notice."
Heather almost choked! Thirty designer outfits? Accessories
to make up over one hundred! Then, on top of that, social
clothes as well! The bill would be astronomical!
"As I said, Amy has taken care of everything financially.
Yes, it is frightfully expensive, but there are ways of dealing
with that. I dare say, this type of investment will earn her
company back every dime in under a month, spent on the right
person. And I can tell, just by looking at you, that she is
choosing wisely."
Heather finally said, "I had no idea of what she had in mind.
I mean the scale..."
Susan locked the front door and turned the sign to say
"Closed". Coming back, she took Heather casually by the arm and
guided her to the back of the store. "We will have a long day of
it, so let's get you relaxed. Take off everything but your bra
and panties so we can get right to work. Just put your things on
the table there."
"Oh, Jan already measured me and sent the numbers over to
your computer."
"Yes, I have them. And you, young lady, will be a challenge.
I must tell you I don't believe I've ever met someone with quite
your attributes. As a man might say, you are some package. I
can't wait to see how Jan manages to do her part."
Heather blushed. "Thank you. But, I mean, I didn't do
anything to get this way, it's just the way I was born."
"Yes, but God was having a good day when he waved his hand
over you dear. It's just a bit unfair to the rest of us who have
to work so hard, or, buy just a bit of what you have so
naturally! Well, enough of this admiration. Oh, dear!"
Heather had just folded her skirt over the table and turned
to face Susan. "What?" She leaned over to look past her boobs,
and she too noticed the large wet stain in her crotch. "Oh, my
gosh! I'm embarrassed!"
Susan just laughed. "No need. I see you are still doing a
little daydreaming about Jan's measurement 'system'. Quite
stimulating, wouldn't you say?"
Heather relaxed a bit. "Yes, you could say that."
"Would you believe she has people come in every month to just
get their 'measurements checked'? Funny thing is, she's not into
S&M or anything. She's bi, all right, but, if this is possible,
given the way she does this, she is very professional with
customers. She only does enough to get what she needs. I think
she thinks these people ought to let her sister take care of
them."
"Oh, her sister. I met her. Why her?"
"Turn this way. Her sister is into heavy S&M and is a
dominatrix. To my knowledge, she is running at least three sex
slaves right now. Two of them men. Stay away from her. I
personally don't think she knows when enough is enough. I
predict, sooner or later, she'll really hurt someone and then we
will have a real mess on our hands in this town. Turn this way."
Susan just kept on working. Sex slaves? Wow. In spite of
Susan's warnings, Heather realized she felt interested. Not to
be a slave, she suddenly realized, to control one! And it scared
her and she stopped thinking about it. She had felt that thrill
before when she was in charge of the lovemaking, but had never
let it take over.
Susan had felt the thrill go through Heather at the mere
mention of sex slaves, and wondered if the kid was interested, or
just scared. She said nothing about it and decided to change the
subject.
"OK. Now we do some preliminary other dynamic measurements.
No touching, I promise! Just step onto the stage here and do
what I tell you. I'll explain what is happening as we go. The
computer will do all the work as you move around. OK, now,
here's what's going to happen."
"Umm. I've forgotten something. Let's see. Oh, of course.
How stupid. The suit. You have to put on the suit." She went
to a rack and selected a shiny silver spandex-like pantsuit and
handed it to Heather. "Bra and panties off please. Try not to
get too horny in this thing. They're a bitch to have cleaned.
It's exactly one half size too small for you, which means it will
be like a second skin. You don't have to wear it long, so just
breath a bit shallow till it stretches out."
Peeled of the undies, she began to ease her long legs
into the seemingly too small pant legs. And, after much gentle pulling,
she got it on up to her crotch, then slide one arm in and pulled
the suit up over her front and Susan held the material while she
forced her left arm out the sleave. Her legs and arms felt like
they were in a vice. Her buttocks were now gripped firmly,
pulling the material tight across her stomach. And then, Susan
told her to exhale as far as she could and hold. The zipper
screamed closed at the base of her neck and her breasts were
pulled firmly against her ribcage. She tried to breath in and
was shocked and alarmed to find she couldn't get but a very small
amount of air in her lungs. She began to gasp and take short,
rapid breaths. Each inhalation caused her boobs to feel like
they were made of solid rock as they were gripped and pushed back
in resistance. Susan just held her hand while the suit grudging
gave way against her body's efforts.
"There. Better. It has to be a second skin. Look in the
mirror. See how shiny it is? We are going to bathe you in a
series of very low intensity laser beams. The computer will make
a baseline 3-D image of your body in exacting detail. Then, we
will have you move around, walk, bend, reach over your head, and
so forth, and the computer will make a continuous stream of
measurements and store them. When we play it back, it will be
able to accurately reproduce any body movement or angle in 3-D.
Then, off comes the suit, and the computer will take the
measurements of your body that Jan took and adjust its own files
for you. In other words, your breasts will stop looking like
they are being flattened, and so forth. There will be two of
you, one normal and one aroused. It makes a difference up top,
and sometimes, below for some outfits. Jan can compensate for
some of the difference, and I cover up the rest."
"Then, we pick out outfits that seem to be correct for you.
Colour, etc. The computer has the ability to create the exact
same outfit in every detail and drape it correctly over your 3-D
image. As we turn you, and bend you on the screen, the computer
will demonstrate just how the fabric will move, fall, stretch,
depending on the type of fabric, the cut and so on."
"I will tell it when to make adjustments to remove any problems,
such as gapping, or hem lines moving around, and the computer
will adjust the cut until the outfit is perfect. We then look at
the same thing aroused and adjust, if necessary, until both
images are the same appearance. Once we are satisfied, the cut
and measurements are sent to the factory and an outfit is created
exactly for you, to exactly the correct measurements for that
fabric and your figure. A week later, we have it here and it
fits you perfectly right out of the box. A pressing and it's
yours."
Heather finally said, "Wow. Perfect fit and cut. Every time. No
WONDER this is so expensive." She was running her hands over the
silky texture of the outside of the suit and the sensation WAS
making her horny. Her breasts were taut and the pressure was
making her unusually aware of them. Her nipples were trying to
extend, but were held firmly back. The new sensations were
sending sparks through her skin. And instantly, she knew she was
wet again.
Susan was laughing, still looking down at the monitor,
"Actually, it cuts costs enormously. There is absolutely no waste.
I just raise the prices to make them pay for the miracle. And
they love the look, and pay through the nose. OK, laser is on.
Let's start. Stand for one minute till it beeps, then move around.
Great. HEY! Stop the fondling!"
Her eyes went to Heather's crotch and she sighed. Too late. The
kid was soaked again.
"I'm sorry," Heather said. "I just started to feel really
horny. All the tightness and the unusual feel of the material
really turns me on."
"Yeah, I know. Look, you might as well keep it on, if you
like. I'll have to get it cleaned anyway now. And you look like
you are really getting off on it."
But Heather barely heard her. As she boldly ran her hands
over the outside of her of her tightly constrained breasts,
thrilling to the feel of their hardness, and the sensations of
her fingers through the fabric ran like a hot flame and a
wonderful warm feeling spread across her chest. And just like
that, the heat in her thighs rose in a wave and poured through
her pussy and into her stomach, the orgasm causing her to whimper
with satisfaction and surprise. As her head cleared, Susan's
voice came back into focus.
"OK. Can we stop playing 'let's get off' and get back to
work? Heather, we have got to get focused here and do what we
set out to do. Now, straighten up. Hands off your tits. By
your side. Let's do the baseline again."
Heather grinned. "Wow. Some suit. I just orgasmed!"
"I know. I'm wet myself from watching you. Jesus. OK.
There's the beep. ONLY move the way I tell you. The script
doesn't call for body touching, young lady, so no sneak attempts
at another orgasm, OK?"
"Got it. OK. But, it still makes me hot. How does it do
that? Can I buy one of these? Maybe I better not. I'd never
take it off."
"To be honest, everyone that puts it on notices it makes them
horny. I think it must have something to do with the way it
feels like silk and never grabs, the pressure it puts on the
erogenous zones and the fact that when you touch yourself, it
creates static electricity that flows through the suit and is
felt by your sensitive parts as tiny shocks that you can't really
consciously feel, but that your mind interprets as sexual
stimulation. And, no, you can't have it or buy it. I paid a lot
for it and THAT is one invention of my own that makes me better
at this process than anyone else in the world right now."
And for the rest of the day, she demonstrated that she was
the best in the world. They worked hard selecting the outfits,
have the computer do the modelling and adjustments as Susan's
expert eye caught all the little things in the cuts and flow of
the garments that looked bad from certain angles and movements
and had the computer adjust. Some of it was like magic, knowing
what to adjust where to get the effect she wanted. The personal
clothes for social occasions were from formal gowns to sun suits,
and one very, very sexy slinky red dress that had them both
saying 'fantastic' and getting wet from watching the 3-D image
move around on screen in the 'aroused' view. Susan pushed back
from the desk.
"I'm sitting here dreaming I'm peeling that dress off you and
sucking on those spectacular boobs of yours. I don't think I can
take any more of that, or I'll jump you."
Heather's breath caught at the woman's words, as she wanted
to be fucked so badly at that moment, and wished Susan would turn
to her and take her. But Susan didn't make the move.
Reluctantly, Heather peeled off the body suit slowly after
Susan unzipped her. The heavy sweet smell of her cum hung in the
room from the wet crotch as she hung it over the back of a chair
to dry, unable to meet Susan's eyes.
"Couldn't resist a few more orgasms, I see," Susan remarked.
"I...I didn't really do anything, honest. They...They just
kept happening. Not that they weren't nice or that I tried to
stop them."
"Well, doesn't matter if you get it a little wet, or a lot
wet. By the way, you smell wonderful. You must be a delight in
bed."
"Thanks." She couldn't think of anything else to say. Why
didn't Susan just take her in her arms and make love to her? God
knows, she wanted it and was ready enough! But, she dressed and
Susan made busy on the computer, saving and transmitting files to
the factories.
"Heather, a word of advice?"
"Yes?"
"These clothes, and how you got them? Amy has a lot of
motives for getting them for you. And having you look nice and
professional is only a minor one. She is putting all this stuff
on the company books, in her name. The clothes only fit you.
If for any reason things don't work out at the firm, just keep
the clothes. Let Amy worry about the rest. Giving back the
clothes would solve nothing for her. You might as well have the
enjoyment. Just so you know."
"Are you sure that would be right?"
"Positive. Amy is a big girl taking chances. If she gets
caught, stay out of the line of fire and keep a low profile." As
she said it, her eye caught Heather's magnificent profile and
Heather noticed where she was looking, and they both laughed.
"Right! I'll need that suit for that. Any chance you'll
change your mind about....?"
"Not a chance. Now get out of here so I can finish up and get
something to eat. I'm beat."
"Thanks for everything Susan. I can't wait to see the
clothes and try them on. Two weeks you said?"
"Yeah, the early ones will be two weeks. The rest over a two
or three week period. Maybe one or two longer. And you don't
actually try them on. There is no need. They always fit
perfectly. Jan's underwear will take care of that for you. I
can't wait to hear your reaction to how that stuff feels. If you
thought the suit was good, just wait.....off with you now." And
she gave Heather a kiss on the cheek and the door shut and she
locked it.
Heather went back to school and hit the books. Her mind kept
drifting back to the suit as an idle hand began to take her on
the stairway to another orgasm. The ancient history of Rome
started to blur in her mind as the sensations of her hand between
her legs drove her concentration from her. It would be a late
night.
Susan returned to the computer terminal and sat. There was
one last outfit she wanted for Heather. It would be a personal
gift to a special lady. She was always attracted to beautiful,
sexy women, being bi and all, but even she was surprised at how
strongly she had felt attracted today. It had taken all of her
willpower to be professional and get the work done and keep her
hands off Heather.
The material was impossible, the computer recalculated again
and again the cuts and lines, and she struggled for hours to get
it to work, and finally, it came together. As the 3-D picture
turned and moved around the screen, Susan finally gave in to the
lust she had built up all day, and a hand disappeared into the
top of her slacks. It took only moments before a powerful orgasm
tightened her muscles and she groaned loudly. The second orgasm
was stronger than the first and she yelled out. And, ten minutes
later, her hand on one nipple, pulling at the nipple savagely,
and the other flicking her sensitive clit, she felt a tidal wave
roll up from her thighs, slam into her stomach and explode in her
brain. She screamed. The designer clothes on the long racks
absorbed the sound and a passerby in the street heard nothing.
End Part 19B
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
To find out more about the anon service, send mail to [email protected].
If you reply to this message, your message WILL be *automatically* anonymized
and you are allocated an anon id. Read the help file to prevent this.
Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to [email protected].
|
|
