Part 2: Making the Most of Bad Situations

Roberto Gomez owned his large tractor truck free and clear. There was not a thing he could not repair in it; it was in perfect shape. As a driver, he was liked by several transport companies for his good and reliable services. He had been on the road for years and knew the entire United States road map by heart. Conscientious, he also had saved money to buy a small lot to build his house. From various places where he delivered his freight, if the truck had space on, he would pick up free or very cheap building supplies and use his off days to build his house with friends, one of which was a licensed contractor. When he moved in, he decided to marry and start a family.

Sheila, intelligent and cute wanted him but not the marriage. Love prevailed. As he trucked during the week, she studied towards a PHD in Economics, and International Relations. Two years down their relationship, an unexpected turn of event happened. Sheila got pregnant. Roberto was elated, Sheila not. Fortunately the birth was to happen in summer, so her classes were not interrupted. A daycare was arranged for Bernardo, and things went on, with just more bills to pay. The daycare, Carolyn, loved that child, and she was the first witness of his crawling, of his first step, of his first word; in short, she mothered and raised that little boy. When Bernardo was five years old and ready to go to Kindergarten, things changed dramatically for Roberto. When coming back from his travel, he found a letter on the kitchen table that was short and simple:

Roberto. Our lives together are not making sense any longer. Thank you for paying for my education. However, I am now a career person, I have accepted Coca-Cola’s offer to a position as their far-east relation representative assistant, a job that gives me travel, a fabulous work, and a lot of income. (Don’t worry, I shall repay to you my education costs; give me some time.)
You will find a better mother than I for Bernardo; I do not have much in his life anyway, nor in yours. When you read this, I shall be flying to the Far East. Fare well. Sheila.
PS. When Roberto grows up, tell him that his mom had problems with motherhood.

In shock, feeling used and abused, Roberto decided to cancel or postpone all his transportation contracts for the following weeks and to spend time with Roberto. He paid Carolyn anyway, and told her of what had happened. Carolyn answered that she too had concerns with regards to this situation, because she was like a mother to Bernardo, when in fact she was not. She promised Roberto to think of something for the next step, but things had to change for her too. She felt that the start of school would be the right time for that, but and until then she would keep Roberto. School was beginning in a week anyway.

Roberto gave himself as goal to find a local jobber for his trucking services. It paid less, but he could be home every evening. Still, looking at it as realistically as he could manage, Bernardo would need someone to replace Carolyn, a mother. But Roberto was so disgusted with women at the moment, that it was out of the question.

Roberto, to Bernardo’s delight, now spent all of his time with him. They went places, played ball, ate some nice food (for Bernardo), and even cooked on the bar-b-cue outside in the yard. The news of  Sheila’s leaving went around the block in a day, for Carolyn was a talker. As a matter of fact, Roberto had not had time to know his neighbours, but he got to know them soon. They were so sad for him. One late afternoon, as he was cooking steaks on the grill with Bernardo, his immediate neighbour, a forty year old kindergarten special Ed teacher, crossed over bringing her steak, some desert and drinks.

“May I join you?” she asked with a big smile. “My name is Verena Price.”

Bernardo looked at her with some mitigated feelings. However, in little time she had him talk to her. When they had eaten, she gave him paper and pencils to draw some pictures and an easy Lego kit. During that time she shared with Roberto what was on her heart.

“I will be at your son’s school next week, and I could bring him with me there; he could return with me and I would keep him home until you come back. Do you think it is worth a try?”

Roberto gave it a quick thought. It might be the answer for the moment.

“Sometimes I have to leave for several days. How do you see this?”

“Oh!” answered Verena, “I have a six year old daughter, but I have one free bedroom where he could sleep; that would be no problem at all.”

“I have to tell you one thing still,” said Roberto, “with the kind of life Sheila and I lived, the in and out, Bernardo is still a bed wetter.”

“Well, I can imagine why. Staying with him is the best thing you can do in this direction. If we work together and explain to him what is going to happen with school and such, this boy will become secure and will gain control. Count on me to train him!”

“Let’s start tomorrow” decided Roberto, “we do not have much time. Is your daughter home? What is her name?”

“Isabella! As a matter of fact, she is just arriving with her grand mother.”

A Helpful Neighbour

Verena was a good hard working woman. She had earned her teaching degree by herself and had saved every bit of money she could to afford Isabella with a small but neat home. Her husband, a no good stubborn drunk had jilted her with debts and a few temporary scars. A no contest divorce had been an agreed upon the quicker the better …all at her charge, of course. He had promised to pay the child’s upkeep, but had never sent a dime. Since the legal costs of forcing him to comply were much higher than the promised income, Verena forgot the man as quickly as she could. He had moved out of state anyway, and she knew that in one more year, she could cut all of his rights off. She had heard that he was in jail at the moment for armed robbery. That suited her fine. But she was not going to remarry ever. That she knew.

Yet, as time went on, she needed some tenderness. That is when, surfing one day on the net to prepare a lesson on household items for her little students, she googled under “latex gloves”. That search opened her eyes to a world she had no idea about. Then she googled “latex clothes”, “latex fashion”, etc. In a week’s time she was initiated to possibilities of solo sex enjoyments with latex and toys. She found out stories about people discovering latex. Verena was not a movie star looking person; she dressed in size 14, wished she could lose a few pounds and felt that she could do more with herself. Rubber seemed to be a discrete road that would allow her to fulfill her womanhood, to herself at least, with no consequence to others. So she thought. Her daughter was three years old at the time.

When she sent her first order for latex garments, she went on a spending spree: a cat suit, a mask, groping panties with a vaginal insert, a red latex household apron, and a couple of vibrators. From that day on, Verena’s libido took an orientation to latex. In her bed, she would put on her latex hygienic gloves, cover her breasts with talcum powder and pleasure herself slowly, until her sap would flow between her legs.

The six week waiting was excruciating. Verena thought about her order every minute of the day and of the night. She was scared that the money was lost to companies of doubtful principles. Little did she know of the ethos of latex fashion manufacturers. Reputation is not built in a day, not even in three years. Be it as it may, first came the acknowledgment in the mail. That was nice; at least Verena did not feel ignored. The order was reworded and everything checked out. She felt more confident to wait for the other four weeks.

Then, one day, as she checked her mail box, there was a notice of attempted delivery by the post office. She had three days to go to such and such address of the post office and pick up her package, or the mailman would attempt to deliver it once more. Signatures were required. She decided to go to the post office over lunch hour, and lo and behold, there it was, a heavy package sealed with tape all around. She paid some custom duty and signed for it.

She was ripe as a peach in July. She imagined that she had found far more than a husband; she had in that package the joys of sex in latex, at her pace, the way she wanted it, with no pressure but those coming from within herself. She had some apprehension though. Would these toys remind her rotten sexual life with that bum of a husband? Why did she marry him anyway? She had hoped to change him; what a stupid idea! She decided she was not going to let it happen. No, she was not going to share this intimate experience with anyone; it was her secret. End of the story!

It was 9 PM about; Isabella was fast asleep, and she would stay that way. Verena took her time. It was like a wedding night this time… with herself, her new self. She wanted that experience to be perfect. She lighted four candles in her room, got herself undressed down to her bra and underwear, and put on very soft music at low level. She fetched a bottle of her preferred sweet fruity wine she had cooled for days and a crystal glass reserved for special occasions. She fetched a pair of scissors and undertook to cut open that part of the package as indicated. Then she slipped her hand inside and pulled out the toys first which were in their own boxes. She set them aside. Then she pulled out the first silk paper wrapped package. It was the red latex apron; one could barely see the red color through. She first drew the package against her nose. The fragrance was headier than she ever had expected. She kept her face in it until her juices started to percolate as it were. Her breasts were tingling just at the thought of this apron swishing against her engorged nipples. She was disciplined enough not to rush, but to enjoy the sensuality of these new feelings, her first deep sexual feelings, so to speak and fuel her expectancies.

Slowly she unwrapped the package, and unfolded the apron which was so perfectly smooth and silky. She unhooked her bra and placed it on the chair, slipped down her underwear, stood on the towel she had prepared and with the puff put powder on her body; everywhere. She wiped her hands clean and lifted the apron, passed her head in the loop. She was bending forward some and the apron was hanging down. Slowly, she straightened up and the coolness of the latex sent a lightning of erotic caresses from her chest down to her knees. She closed her eyes, opened her mouth; her lips were trembling. Without thinking, she took the strings and tied the apron behind her back. The garment was wide enough to join in the back without tightening. She took a few steps, seeking to capture all the caresses it was dispensing. Her mind was disappearing to leave room to the voices of her sensuality. After a few minutes, she went back to her bed and drew the second wrapped up package; the groping panties came next. She placed the garment on her face which was flushed with excitement. Different feel, different fragrance; she took even a lick at the vaginal insert and came even to suck it some. The taste of latex was different; she decided to get used to its bitterness. The jell tube was sitting on her night table, and she prepared herself and the garment. As she slowly pulled it up her legs, she was now facing the challenge of being penetrated. She chased out of her mind all bad memories.

“It is a new day”, she kept on repeating. “It is mine, and nobody else.” As she kept repeating these three words, “It is mine”, she felt a surge of joy, of anticipation; she realized that she was free and that she only could feel what she only would do and accept. She felt proud of being the only sponsor of her pleasure. Yes, happiness is a choice, not the result of positive circumstances:

“It is my choice, I choose to be happy”, she repeated this several times.

As the insert touched her labia, she shivered and focused all her attention to that particular spot. She locked her gaze on a candle and said to herself, “I am going to burn for latex, just the same.” The invasive feeling into her vagina disappointed her a little for it was not as intense as she had hoped. Still, the panties were wrapped around her upper thighs and she unrolled them in pulling them further up some. Then came the crotch knobs. She felt them and instinctively pulled apart the lips of her labia for them to rub on. Another bit of jell was pushed in there to smooth even further. The crotch slipped right in there and, as expected, the voices of her erotic urges grew by quite a few decibels. She pulled up the panties, up and up, tightly, very tightly. She decided to walk with them on. The first few steps were so loaded with new stimuli that she almost fell on her knees. She opened her knees apart, and slowly bent them till she was squatting. Then she slowly got up again. The fondling of that garment was so strong that there were no words to describe it; it radiated from her sex all through her body. The caress of the apron were amplified many times over. Her first orgasm was not far. To push back the oncoming climax, she decided to unwrap another garment.

It was the light blue mask. It was designed with eyes, nose and mouth openings, and it covered her neck also. She zipped it open. Since she wore short hair, she could place it on her face after a last touch up of talcum powder. As she zipped it shut, the feeling of enclosure on her face and neck increased her sense of security and acceptance a hundred times. She touched her head, her face with both hands. Never before such an overall feeling of nakedness and closeness had indwelled her. That second skin effect disarmed all her resistance to stop there. What was true to her face should be true to her entire body now. She pulled out the largest package: the cat suit. It was light blue also.

With regret she took off the apron, folded it neatly, wrapped it in the silk paper and placed it in the prepared drawer of her desk. She knew from her exploration on internet, how to pull the cat suit on herself. She zipped it open; the fragrance of latex hit her once more. She slipped one leg down to the latex foot, pressed the air bubbles out, did the same with the other leg; then she slipped it up her thighs. She had to stop there for the feeling of tightness on her legs was just too much to absorb. Secretly, she anticipated what it would do to the rest of her. With both hands, she grabbed the garment and pulled it up over her waist; then she slipped her arms into the sleeves; it was tight, and pressed the air bubbles out also. She adjusted the suit over her shoulders. Now the zipper; slowly and carefully she passed the prepared string into the loop of the shutter, and zipped the suit shut between her legs and up her bottom.

The womb sensation brought out emotions of childhood with such strength that she had tears in her eyes. She wanted to explode and tell everybody her joy, but… it was HER secret. She passed her hands all over her body: it was smooth, sexy, slick, shiny, erotic, and mesmerizing. She went to the bathroom to look at herself in the full size mirror behind the door. Her reflection came from another world. She stretched herself, pushed her breasts out. She loved herself.

She put on her slippers, tip toed out of her room; Isabella was fast asleep. In the dark she went to the family room. The yard was dark; nobody in sight. She opened the sliding door. The cool air took her off guard; it was exciting. She listened to any noise that could have been strange, attesting to the presence of someone. A car passed. She risked herself on the patio. She felt so utterly naked… and the excitement of that exposure was opening new avenues, enlarging her frame of mind. She knew that the woman in her was growing up, and she forbade herself to miss anything. She chose to stand in the shadowed areas of the garden, of course, for she felt so vulnerable besides. Another car passed. The lights reflected the shine of her cat suit through the hedge. She almost died in panic, but she forbade herself to run for cover and waited until she decided it was time.

Verena felt so good, even though it was cool in the night. She decided to sleep in the suit for a few hours. The latex was exciting her all over; she felt so erotic that her breasts could have exploded. She walked back to the house. The knobs massaging her labia drove her to the verge of losing it all. She checked on Isabella once more and locked herself in her bedroom. She decided not to use the toys yet, but to masturbate herself to climax. She had never done that before, because she was so scared it would bring back memories that had been so difficult to forget.

Stretched on her bed, she brought her knees up and down, back and forth. The excitement on her clitoris was growing hotter with each move. After a while she just had the time to stuff a rubber glove in her mouth and explode into an orgasm so intense that she got scared of it never stopping. She was shaking all over. When she calmed down, she was almost sorry. She looked at her watch; she had been in bed for over two hours. It was one a.m. She did not want to take that suit off; oh no! So she set her alarm clock for five and took the chance that Isabella would not wake up.

When the alarm rang, she could not and would not get up. She felt so utterly cherished that she could have stayed there an entire life. But Isabelle would wake up at seven and there was lots to do. She left her warm bed and zipped her mask off. Her hair were wet, but that would be repaired under the shower. She zipped open the cat suit standing in the tub. Plaques of talcum powder were detaching. She was barely damp. Still, she would clean that suit like the instructions said. It had time to dry. She was still tired but so fulfilled.

One thing she had not expected was the tenacious fragrance of latex; in the room, in the bathroom, in her bed sheets, on her skin, it was there and would not easily disappear. She had to do something.

That sums up that first experience of many more to come. Verena was not ashamed; she was the happiest woman in the world.

One thing leads to another

The upheaval of the divorce, the dangerous behaviour of her father, all of this had traumatized Isabella who could not control her bladder so afraid of him she was at all time. That was when, soon after the first arrival of her first latex garments, Verena decided to find a supplier of latex material and learn how to make simple things for herself with glue and perhaps seams on the sewing machine. Verena was a different person; she was happy and singing around the house. Imperceptibly, that changed Isabella’s attitudes also.
 
One evening Verena googled and found www.makinglatexclothing.com.  She purchased 10 yards of pink medium weight latex. She used it to make a full size mattress pad for all the beds in her home. Thus the special smell of latex became part of the household.

Still the latex enjoyment of Verena remained strictly HER OWN. All these clothes were under lock and key, of course.

Verena explained to Roberto in a nutshell how she had succeeded with Isabella’s  training, and that she would do the same with Bernardo.

Roberto was all too glad, for he knew nothing in this area. He trusted Verena.

Growing Up

Bernardo was happy to be in school and he did very well. Since he still was not continent, Verena outfitted him with rubber pants for the day. At noon she would take him home where he sat on the toilet for No 2, and went back to school until 3 PM or so. Isabella travelled on the bus because she was a “big girl” now, and going to first grade. Bernardo also learnt how to prepare himself for the night at his home. He had a second pair of rubber pants. Within a couple of months after that arrangement, Roberto asked Verena if he could accept a couple of long hauls.

“No problem, Roberto, you need to move on from these small jobs. I can see that bills need to be paid, and that worry is not for you. Oh, by the way, I need to tell you that Bernardo is almost clean. He has not wetted his nappy in five days.” Roberto smiled and congratulated Verena.

“What are we going to do to prepare his bedroom in your house?”

“Oh! Let me have some of his things, some of his toys and posters or whatnot, and it will become his in no time.”

That first night in Verena’s home, Roberto got acquainted with the smell of latex, for the mattress protector sheet was made of that material. He did not pay any special attention to it. It only was a characteristic fragrance that laid a foundation of confidence.

Years passed. Bernardo turned out to be brilliant in school and made two years’ studies in one, catching up with Isabella. Five nights, sometime six nights a week he slept at Verena’s. Roberto was saving all he could for Bernardo’s college education. All he cared was that his son was happy, did good grades and loved him. On Sundays, father and son often went fishing, or Roberto would root for him at his Little League games. They also would go to A-League games, two or three times a year. Once he did take him on a four day long trucking haul. Bernardo slept in the back of the cab, and ate all his meals with his dad at truck stops. He came back just thrilled of this experience.

Verena was extra careful to keep her latex life totally private. At some time, the only thing that became part of the household was the red apron which she used regularly. Nobody paid attention to it, nor even made a linkage between it and the mattress cover. Isabella and Roberto were just like brother and sister in a way, and they got along very well. Isabella had her friends, and Roberto, like most bright kids, but who was a little less mature, did not have that much ease in socializing. It took time till he found someone he did like a lot. Otherwise, he and Isabella studied together and kept the household.

On his 12th birthday, his dad gave Roberto a lawnmower and an edging machine.

“You need to make some money for yourself and save it for your education. You will find jobs to do in the neighbourhood, and save that money.”

Not wanting to disappoint his dad, Bernardo thanked him lots and asked him to teach him on the lawn of his home. Then he cut Verena’s lawn. The following week, he had two more lawns to cut, and two weeks later, four more. Verena stopped him.

“With eight lawns to cut, you will be rich.”

She reviewed his computation for the asking price, and sure enough, Bernardo was in business making money. But for the gas he fetched at the gas station on his bike, he did a great work, and pampered his equipment just like his dad his tractor truck. One day, he asked his dad to dismantle the lawnmower and put it together again. It took them the whole week-end. After that, Bernardo could do all the maintenance and repairs to both machines by himself. The neighbours loved this hard working boy a lot.

Friendships

Teens are very sensitive and confused with their identification and their looks, for they build their self-worth on the response of others to them. Brainy Bernardo had understood that early in the game and with the help of his dad and of Verena he had found the fallacy of this line of thinking. He read a number of articles on being true to self, on accepting oneself, and on how to respond to jibes and cruel mockeries. He wanted to test if these writings were correct, and he started a friendship with a teen who, like him, was often picked on: Frank!

After a couple of conversations with him, he realized how quickly the “in groups” identified him with this unfortunate kid, and gave him the same treatment; however, he felt that two are stronger than one. Frank and he became good friends once a relationship of trust was established. They lived a couple of blocks away from each other.

He shared this with Isabella.

“How can you be interested in that loser?” was her reaction.

“Because he is a loser, and he can change” affirmed Bernardo.

“Well, good luck to you! Don’t count me in!”

“I don’t and I won’t. But don’t you come after us when things will be to your liking!”

It was a bad day all around for Isabella. She knew she was a brat to Bernardo. He did not seem to mind at all, and that made it worse.

Frank’s problem resided in his self-image; it was clear. Bernardo sat him on a chair in an empty classroom, took a paper and asked him a lot of questions. Frank was a good kid, apparently not too bright; he failed everywhere, from sport to science; in addition he was overweight, and withdrawn. His voice had not matured into a man’s, and he felt stupid. His parents, both heavy set too lived to eat. Everything turned around food at their home. Frank felt embarrassed to invite his buddies, of course. His birthday party amounted to a mammoth chocolate cake where everyone found an excuse to eat and eat. His home was messy, it had not been cleaned nor dusted for months; empty beer cans and full ashtrays were rarely dumped in the garbage; his parents spent every evening slouched in front of the television set. The yard was unkempt, the backyard neither, the fences were rotting, and both used cars in pitiful condition. This to show that the impact of Bernardo in Frank’s life was the greatest thing that ever could happen.

Frank’s family was poor; his dad worked off and on, filling in for absentees and his mom never worked; she had dropped out of school and had no skills whatsoever. She was not interested to work. So, Bernardo decided to show Frank how to earn money. He bought him a bike for five dollars to gain time to and from school. He took him along in his lawn cutting business, and showed him how to do certain things, such as yard cleaning and simple things. Every week Frank put in the bank his earnings and it quickly amounted to far more than he had ever imagined. Bernardo arranged things so that both had to sign for any withdrawal; his dad, Roberto, also signed, for an adult had to validate the account.

First, both boys went through their school work. Bernardo and Frank reviewed all that they had learnt so far, and Bernardo showed Frank how to learn and assimilate the lessons in all disciplines. Frank spent hours in the library reviewing and preparing his lessons ahead of time. His grades shot up. Bernardo showed him the resources of the library, showed him the computer and how to type fast and accurately.

As time went on and winter set in, Bernardo decided to show Frank how to spend some of his money. They decided together on each purchase and recorded it. Frank was growing fast and bursting out of his clothes. He could not wear anything of the previous year. Since his mother cared less about her son’s needs, and his father was penniless when it came to his son’s clothes, Frank and Bernardo went shopping in second hand garment stores. For twenty dollars they filled two large shopping bags. Frank was looking good and he had earned everything he wore.

When spring came around, both boys decided to give Frank’s parents’ yard a going over. It took them an entire day, but it was looking much better. Frank spent a few of his own dollars to buy a can of paint for the garage door. They nailed it back together first. This done, his mother started to look at her son for the first time in years:

“That was good what you did, son!” she told him. Frank’s heart leaped with pride. It was the first compliment he ever received from his parents.

By the end of the school year, Frank was a fine teen, reliable, hardworking, and polite. His teachers could not believe the change; each one them was quick to claim the credit. The class too could not imagine what had happened to him; girls who had been talking about this “fat blob”, were looking now at a tall, fast, directed and kind person. Some tried to gain his attention, but Frank had no time for them. He politely turned them down; he knew. Bernardo and Frank had a quiet understanding.

At graduation, Frank was voted the student or the year with the most improvements in attitude and grades, and Bernardo, now at the top of the class, as the most supportive student to others. Isabella was so proud of him.

*    *    *

Jenn ! A Background of Courage

Jenn was now twenty years old. Since age sixteen, she had been working every available hour at a fast food place on the north east of Groveville, just by the entrance of town where the car dealerships display the latest models, and other hardware and furniture merchants their wares. Over the years, she had worked all shifts anywhere from six AM till eleven PM. She also had worked as a cook and knew by heart how to prepare and serve according to prescribed instructions. She could handle the ordering also, the cash registers; she could train anyone in anything. She recently had been promoted to manager. She also knew the sister restaurant on the southwest of town, having done replacements there. (see “Will you, Patricia, Part 1)

Jenn was born to a then sixteen year old mother, Dolly-Jo, who had been raped by a drug pushing redneck in his pick up truck on a rainy day when she was walking to school after missing the bus. Pope kindly had offered her the ride, but had driven with her instead into a small wood to do his destructive work. Still a virgin, she had screamed her fear, her pain and distress. But he had abandoned her there, outside, all alone in the rain, blood running down her legs. He had called her with unprintable names even though she had never been consenting. But at age sixteen, she was not considered a minor in that state.

She could not call up her mom right away. Walking back to Groveville, she stopped in the first drugstore on the way. The lady pharmacist, seeing her distress brought her in the back of the store where she heard her story, but for the details which she knew all too well. She called in the GP doctor who practiced in the same building. She came right away and calmed down Dolly-Jo. The doctor called her mom and asked her to come over to her office. Although Dolly-Jo, scared out of her mind, felt that her last day had come, she trusted the doctor sufficiently for her to inspect the source of her bleeding, but the doctor did not intervene until her mother had arrived.

Instead of allowing the events to crush her, Dolly-Jo’s mom took a good look at her daughter, and both she and the doctor started to care for her in the appropriate manner and with all the reassurance that dreadful experience called for. It took a month for Dolly-Jo to reconnect with her studies and her school girl friends which had been told and explained how to protect their classmate.

But in spite of the doctor’s care and thorough cleansing of her young patient, Dolly-Jo’s pregnancy was confirmed, just two weeks after the time she went back to school. Somehow, Pope heard about it, stopped his truck along the side-walk as she was walking with two girl-friends one day, and threatened her: “Have an abortion, or I’ll kill you.”

“With what money?” she retorted angrily.

“Yours, slut!”

Pope pressed the gas pedal on the floor leaving billows of smoke behind him. At these words, Dolly-Jo fell on her knees, and almost fainted with pain. She was destroyed within. Her friends tried to help her; but she had to go to the hospital again for a week’s time. However, she could not be medicated on account of the child. The incident had been reported to the police by corroborating witnesses and to the local press.

It had been a sordid affair, not the first one by any means credited to Pope. Tired out by that good-for-nothing to whom the judge (a friend of a friend) had forgiven all too many times, the police soon after arrested Pope in his drug business in the proximity of the high school. Angry, Pope threatened the two agents with his handgun when they ordered him out of his new supped up pick up truck. That move cost him his life. A rebellious and spoiled only son, surprisingly of upstanding, liked, and wealthy church going parents, he had linked with the wrong crowd and wanted the quick and easy money without responsible work and the learning of a profession. Naïve, Jenn’s mom had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and her innocence had surely been destroyed.

The family and Dolly-Jo decided to accept the birth of the baby. Dolly-Jo felt that she needed the reward of that baby after so many sufferings. Thus Jenn was accepted and loved from day one.  As time went on, Pope’s parents who attended the same church as Dolly-Jo’s family, arranged a scholarship fund for her and her baby, their grand child. That assistance came in handy as she graduated from high-school and decided to study nursing. Five years later, Dolly-Jo had her Master’s in nursing with honours and no debts. Jenn was seven years old and was loved by both sets of grandparents.

Dolly-Jo was a very good looking young lady, mid-size, trim, active; so was her daughter who resembled her like a miniature twin. As can be expected, Dolly-Jo’s attitudes toward the male kind remained very reserved, and as Jenn came to puberty, the entire story had to be told to her, and consequently she too stayed on the side of caution towards guys in her school. It did not take Jenn a lot of time to observe her friends, and to discern how “sincere” the guys’ words were; the warnings of her mom also were quickly confirmed through her friends’ unwanted pregnancies. She also found out how some of her friends’ character changed following an abortion: depressions, school failures, hardening of their feelings, sarcasm, bitterness, loneliness, despair, and even suicides.

Jenn loved people without being naïve. Her college education was a big goal in her life. She did not want the medical field; she loved business and was good at it. She helped people with her sense of opportunity and money management. Since age sixteen, as we know, she was in the fast food restaurant, and spent most of her hours out of school and week-ends working to save money, although the fund setup by her grandparents would have been adequate. Her mom had professionally met Madam Gwen a few times, since both were nurses, and had talked with her when she brought an elderly person who was sick enough to be hospitalized. Madam Gwen had found out about Jenn, and she had asked Dolly-Jo, if her daughter could find some time to help her clean four rooms of her large house: the parlour, the kitchen, the dining room, and her office twice a month.

Soon after, she had picked up Jenn with her Jaguar and instructed her how she liked things done. She did not demand Jenn to be dressed in latex; still she had to wear a full latex apron and gloves in the kitchen, and a shorter apron and gloves while cleaning the other rooms. It had not taken time for Jenn to manifest her curiosity, and, under promise of total discretion, Madam Gwen had given her a visit of the guest bedrooms, of the workshop, and of the servants’ headquarters. While in the workshop, she had explained Jenn all the virtues of that material.

“When you are interested in wearing some, let me know, and I will give you a couple of garments as a start.”

“Thank you very much” responded Jenn, “not today, however. Let me think about it.”

“As you wish; my offer remains on the table.”

The money with Madam Gwen was very good, and it did not take long till Jenn asked for latex garments. Yet, Madam Gwen did not sell her latex garments, for she felt that it was better to bond her to latex first. Jenn asked if she could visit a couple of the special services rooms. Somehow, Madam Gwen had heard the story of Dolly-Jo’s youth, and she was extra careful with Jenn, not wanting to scare her. Hence, she would meticulously prepare her for everything Jenn wanted to know. After a few months or so, Jenn asked if she could receive one of these latex bonding treatments.

“Are you a virgin?” asked Madam Gwen.

“Yes I am”

“That’s good. We will not change that.” It was a relief for Jenn…. “We will start by building a relationship between your body and latex. Imagine that out of your five senses, the sense of touch is the largest one: one million five hundred thousand nerve ends all throughout your body are in contact with your brains. There are several kinds of feelers; some more sensitive than others, and some that are pleasurable, while others are less. Feelers can be trained to become pleasurable. We call erotic these pleasure feelers. With proper and systematic stimuli, more feelers can become erotic; some people have succeeded to have most of their body awakened in that way. Latex is a material that does awaken erotic feelings and allows you to expand this to other feelers on your skin. That’s where we begin. Will you?”

“Are we talking of sex, and all that stuff?” enquired Jenn.

“Not directly; although your sexual organs have the most erotic feelers in your body, there are other places almost as sensitive. It is a discovery journey which we undertake between you and latex; I only guide, and you respond. Play the game; you will never regret it. There will not be any sexual relationships, I can ensure you.”

Jenn, with fear and trembling agreed to try by the next time she came for cleaning. She came in early to give Madam Gwen more time.

All during the days preceding that latex initiation, Jenn could hardly sleep. She knew that something big was about to happen, but she did not know what and how to fathom it. She knew that a turn in her life would take place, but where it would lead… she did not have the faintest idea. She almost cancelled the whole idea four or five times. But when she had her hand on the phone, she could not muster the strength. She knew that she had to go through with this for her own sake.

Jenn’s Initiation

Jenn’s sexual life was nothing. She knew that she lived in the fears her mom had placed upon her, and that somehow she had to get free from these. She did not want to date, she was scared about this. A very attractive young lady, Jenn preferred to keep relationships on a superficial level. However, that meant a great deal of loneliness for her.

Now Madam Gwen’s experience and kindness had melted some of Jenn’s fears over time, and she was willing to trust her, but she was as tense as a violin string.

Madam Gwen had prepared everything to do exactly what they had agreed. It all started in the clinic. Jenn had required that she be not bound to the table, nor gagged in any way. She laid there on that cold GY table, undressed down to her small underwear, no bra. Madam Gwen explained everything.

“I am going to put powder over your body, from neck to toes. I have my latex gloves on. It will be very soft and gentle. Just relax and let me do.”

“My skin is very sensitive, I tickle easily. Please, be understanding.”

“I shall do my best. Try to feel the latex of my gloves, and follow the caresses. You will feel them where I give them, and you can direct the feelings there.” She placed her hand on Jenn’s womb.

Madam Gwen started with her arms and shoulders, then powdered her legs, then her back, and finally from her breasts down to her low waist. Jenn relaxed slowly, and at long last closed her eyes to better welcome each caress. She started to respond.

“This is good,” said Madam Gwen very gently. “Now I am going to caress you through a sheet of latex that will cover you from head to toes. Let me put it on. Just enjoy the feeling. Just stay quiet and sort out all that you feel.”

The sheet had been warmed up some, because, for an initiation, it would have been too cold. The sheet was tied at Jenn’s feet and spread slowly over her head and tied to her hands stretched above her head. Madam Gwen left Jenn for a few minutes immobile on the table.

Jenn’s skin was extremely sensitive. She was bewildered, for the touch of latex came from everywhere; from warm, it became lukewarm, but then, the material was only a huge comprehensive caress. Jenn, outside of her mom’s, never received caresses, only hugs with only very few people. This time, her mind was sinking into a world of touch, unknown, scary, but marvellous. It was taking her on a ride and she felt she had nothing known to hang on to.

Jenn started to moan, to express the core of herself, an area buried, barricaded by will and fear. Normally she would have run away, but now she had chosen not to. Every little move, every breath caused the latex sheet to imperceptibly move a tiny bit and enhance an urge that stemmed from the unknown, and to build up a new surge of want at the next breath. The feelings were so general at that moment, that she could not identify special erotic points; all of it was erotic.

Jenn had always worked. She never took time to explore herself. Her health classes dealt with bodily functions, sexual functions, but it was theory for a grade. She never put herself into these courses, having been also inoculated by her mom and the boys’ behaviour toward some of the girls in her class. Hence, she had never taken the time to pamper herself, to think there was more to life than save money for college. She had graduated, but since she was saving a lot, she had not stopped working, putting off her studies out of fear probably. She acted as if she was happy all the time, smiling and kidding. But nobody really knew her; she would not let anyone inside.

Her nascent libido was now turning towards latex. She loved that sheet more and more. She knew that she could not handle a relationship in that area yet. Hence, if latex would give her joy in that area, all the better.

Then she heard the voice of Madam Gwen, “Jenn,” she spoke very softly,” close your eyes! I am going to gently caress your body with the latex sheet.”

Jenn reacted at Gwen’s hand when she laid it on her shoulder, but then accepted the touch. She felt Gwen’s hand caressing her belly ever so lightly. The latex was moving all over her, and the light caress of it on her nipples slowly inflamed her breasts. After a while she found out that it developed urges in her womb. She did not know what to do, but the constant caress coming from all over was lifting her up and up. All at once she lifted her belly upwards against Gwen’s hand that kept on caressing her; a second time, a third time, more and more. She knew she was getting out of control and loved it, but she was scared.

“I am scared… I don’t know what happens to me…”

“It is all right… let yourself go… go… go…!” Gwen’s soft voice calmed Jenn.

 She grew hotter and hotter, so it seemed to her; the more she twisted, the more sensations she would get. Then she felt Gwen’s other hand caressing her breasts and nipples. That was too much to control; she had her first orgasm but without direct sexual stimulation. Gwen seeing it happening, grabbed both sides of the sheet and stretched it over Jenn’s middle section. Orgasms succeeded one after the other. It lasted a long time; the sensation of the latex sheet kept them coming. For Madam Gwen, it was a first also, an amazing satisfaction. Jenn was her miracle.

Following this first time, Madam Gwen kept on bonding Jenn to latex every time she could spare the time. When Jenn eagerly asked her for some latex clothes, she sold her a pair of groping pants, but showed her the other kinds, the one with the rubber dildo, and the one with the sleeve for a vibrator.

“You will need to have your hymen broken to have these.”

“I don’t want a man to do this to me” answered Jenn.

“I can do this now, almost without pain, if you wish.” Answered Gwen; I am a registered nurse.

Jenn agreed quickly. She did not want to have to think about it for ever. Following this, she purchased also the latex groping pants with the penile sleeve for the vibrator.

When Jenn came home that evening, she felt tired, and decided to go to bed. She decided to try the regular latex groping panties. Endued with jell, she slipped them on, pulled them way up, as recommended. Right away, she felt the knobs slipping in the crack of her labia. She put her pyjamas on top of that and went to bed.

She could not sleep. The stimulation was driving her libido to the sky. She was moving her legs up and down. The experience was entirely new to her; she did not dare touching her crotch so sensitive it had become. Then the unavoidable happened; her belly lifted up; she started to twist her hips, move her legs faster and faster, and she grabbed her nipples and squeezed them hard. The first orgasm exploded within her, contractions on top of the other. It went on until she was totally exhausted.

Then she faced the decision, ‘Do I keep these panties on, or not?’ She decided to try to keep them on. She went to sleep and slept hard, deep, like a stone. Yet, it was two hours later that another avalanche of orgasms took her by surprise, and woke her up. Again, she twisted on her bed, kicked her legs in all directions, shook her boobs up and down. The orgasms were stronger this time.

The cycle kept on till the morning. When she woke up, it was sunny outside, but she was still very tired, yet she had a feeling of fulfillment such as she never had experienced. She regretfully took off her latex groping panties, washed them and prepared them for the following night. Her entire bed smelled after latex. She did not care. Jenn could not have wanted a better introduction to latex as she had received.

It was soon after that Jenn received the telephone call of Trish (see Will you, Patricia, Part 1) with regards to the hospitality of Madam Gwen.

Dolly-Jo Dares

Following this, Jenn, with a great deal of fear first, spoke to her mom about her love for latex. Dolly-Jo felt that it was much better than a male relationship for her daughter at this juncture, and she showed some interest too; yet, she did not respond like Jenn at all. It first led her to phone Madam Gwen and request that they meet. That first conversation cleared up many things to both ladies, and they decided to meet again. After two or three times, Dolly-Jo went to the manor to visit it and to understand what was going on there. Madam Gwen, understood Dolly-Jo’s past hurts, her present fears with male relationships, with her daughter, and with herself. Madam Gwen plainly proposed her a program so that Dolly-Jo could discover herself and the joys of her sexuality.

“You want to do that for your sake, and also for Jenn’s sake.” Madam Gwen encouraged.

In the weeks that followed, Dolly-Jo first discovered tenderness. Madam Gwen gave her some, Jenn some more, and her mother too. She gravitated to children also, for these give a lot of affection. In fact, she dared open to it little by little, like an emotionally hungry teen-ager. She would dream at night of being hugged and babied, of being held and cared for. Madam Gwen expected that, and encouraged it; but she felt that her friend was not ready for latex yet.

After a few meetings Dolly-Jo discovered the reality of her sexuality, although as a nurse, she knew it all in her head; but on account of the shock of the rape, she had stopped growing in her emotions. With time, she grew more confident in her strength, her character, and the awareness of her needs. It formed into her soul and body as a water spring that had to flow out, like a repressed birth of the woman that could not be contained any longer.

“I feel that the woman in me screams to be born, to be free”, she confided to Madam Gwen on her next visit, “how could you deliver that “baby”?

“It takes some time, but if you want me to be the midwife, I will do it for Jenn’s sake too.”

“Well, you were kind enough to bring me so far, and I know now that I can trust you.”

Madam Gwen brought to her a pair of red elbow length latex gloves.

“I want you to start wearing these every night, for the whole night, and to write all your feelings, your dreams, your desires, your temptations, and what else you want to do next. Think of yourself as being your hands, and imagine your entire body in the same conditions.”

“You are creating a womb for me?” Dolly-Jo said smiling.

“Yes! How did you know?”

“Just a hunch!”

“But it will take some time until you will be emotionally able to accept it, for in the womb I am preparing for you, you are not going to be inactive, you will be growing, changing fast. You will be enjoying this transition in your life like nothing else before. It is a birth, remember.”

“It sounds very involved.”

“Yes, it is, and that experience will make of you a person ready to embrace a new existence, a set of new relationships without fear, without feeling inferior. Will you do it?”

“Oh, a thousand times yes.”

“So, you know what to do until next week”, concluded Madam Gwen. “The woman in you wants to be born. The contractions have started.” Madam Gwen smiled. “You will begin by building a new wardrobe for yourself, and do women things.”

Dolly-Jo threw away some of her rags, and bought a couple of nice garments; she went to the hair dresser. She took time to discover a world for women, and liked everything about it. The first night she wore the elbow length latex gloves turned out to be a short one. She could not sleep deeply, and she loved the feeling of the latex, not only on her arms and hands, but also on her body. After two hours she took off her pyjamas, and caressed her body with her hands, her face, her breasts, her shoulders, her belly, her thighs – all around, her knees. Each time she did that, her skin would grow in excitement and desire. Finally, without seeking it, she touched her intimacy. It was all wet; she smelled her fingers; the fragrance was sweet. She licked her fingers and went for more. When she realized that her sexuality was responding, she became so excited that she cried. She could not believe that for all these years, she had refused herself such joy. The next morning she took notes on all she had experienced.

The next day at the hospital, she had a hard time concentrating. All she could think of was latex tenderness. She wanted to go to bed and relive that first night again. The following evening, she went to bed early. She took time to pleasure her skin, like the first night, and trembling with desire, she started masturbating. She went very slowly to begin with; she felt almost ashamed of enjoying it so much. She rubbed her clitoris a little harder; she was wet all over. With one finger she teased her labia, and with the other she explored her vagina. After a moment, she bit the pillow. The feelings were overwhelming her. She wanted to scream. She stopped everything to recover her breath. But she could not wait for long before massaging her clitoris once more; it awoke very quickly, much faster than before, and she found herself rubbing the entire area with energy. All of a sudden, her body took over; she was twisting, throwing her hips up and down, turning face down on her bed, then on her knees. Her arms were too short to excite all she wanted. She grabbed her sensitive nipples, shook her breasts; but now her vagina was screaming for attention. And so it went on until she had gone through half a dozen orgasms. Her mind was gone. She was an erotic body and lusty soul in heat. She was not ashamed, she did not want to understand anything, only enjoy.

“I am a baby woman”, she said aloud.

Then she realized that she should restart like a baby girl. That meant shaving all that hair between her legs. She got up; it was 3 AM, went to the bathroom and with a safety razor took it all off. She felt so much better, so free, and so young. Dolly-Jo was laughing and singing; she had not sung in years, and she laughed listening to her voice. The lips of her sex were large and swollen; she took some aloe jell to calm down the itchy feeling, and rubbed it all with her hand still wearing the elbow length latex gloves. She felt so new, so bare, so naked, and so sexy.

By the fourth day, Dolly-Jo knew that only a full latex enclosure would ring the start of a true birth. She wrote it down.

By the next visit to Madam Gwen, she was so keyed up that her teacher was amazed. They discussed the event that would be her birth into womanhood. Madam Gwen required for a four day time to bring this about. The appointment was set. Dolly-Joe was so grateful, so excited when Madam Gwen gave her some latex garments: a skirt and a top, a couple of latex aprons, a nightgown, and the classic underwear we know. That was more than sufficient to her for the moment. The insert gave Dolly-Jo hours of pleasure. She wanted life to stop right there. Madam Gwen wanted her to get used to latex, for the birth experience would be long and involved. She also knew that following that delivery of sorts, Dolly-Jo would want to be babied. Madam Gwen had planned that part already. However, she needed to prepare some hypno tapes to bring about that latex birth, the bonding to follow, and the latex babying.

As a result of that friendship with Madam Gwen, Dolly-Jo opened wide the door for Jenn to continue her cleaning services. Madam Gwen’s assured Dolly-Jo that she would personally see to it that her daughter would not get involved with a foolish man and ruin her life. That was a big weight off Dolly-Jo’s shoulder.

A Profitable Contract

It was during that time also, that Jenn came to notice Bernardo and his friend, building their yard care business. She had just purchased a Toyota pick up truck from Jerry Right (see Will you, Patricia – Part 1), an old vehicle, but mechanically sound. She could have purchased a car, but in that area, a pick up truck, even a small one, was more useful. She noticed that the grounds of the Gwen property needed much more care. Considering the trade of that lady, contracting a company was a delicate choice for her. Therefore, Jenn brought Bernardo and his friend to her. Both boys were eighteen years of age. They had decided to wait a year before furthering their studies in college.

Madam Gwen (dressed with normal clothes – business is business!) met them outside and showed them the property. Bernardo took careful notes and measured each area. Then they went to the garage where the boys found the equipment, the tractor, the tools, etc. They discussed money. Bernardo and Frank agreed to come one day a week for a month, and a half day thereafter. All they needed was transportation.

After that agreement, everyone was happy. Jenn agreed to monitor the yard work and to see that they would have everything to do a good job.

“Bernardo,” Madam Gwen said, “I want you to look around for a supplier of swimming pools. I want an above ground pool and all the fence and access to it. I want a deck and a changing cabin, and also a Jaccuzzi bubble pool for six people. It has to sit there, just 35 yards away from the veranda. I want the deck to be one step up from the patio, and the pool just in the lower part behind. Make me a design and get some prices.”

“Yes, we will do that for you.” Bernardo measured and sketched the situation.

Back home, he made a complete study of the property, the fertilizer for all the flowers, bushes and trees, the pesticides, the fungicides. He made a complete schedule, week by week. He called for prices. The pool project was also part of that proposal.  When it was all done, Jenn came over to check it all out.

“Are you aware that Madam Gwen’s household dresses in latex and uses latex, or rubber, in just about everything?” asked Jenn to Bernardo.

“No, I have no idea at all.”

“Do you know what latex is?”

“Some basic material in paint, and in gloves.”

“True! But much more is being done with it. More and more people love the feel latex for many reasons.”

Since Jenn was living a couple of blocks away from Bernardo’s home, she invited him to see her things. Bernardo was a little shy of walking into her bedroom, although it was not so different from Isabella’s. Jenn opened a drawer and pulled out a latex apron. She unfolded it and put it up to his cheek.

“Feel how soft and slick it feels.”

Bernardo first withdrew, but then he approached her hand and accepted the caress. Jenn softly caressed his entire face. He let her do. She was smiling

“It feels good! Does it not?”

“You know”, he answered, “Verena has an apron just like this one but in red.”

“Has she? Is that all she has?”

“Now that you mention it, no! Ever since I can remember, she has put on every bed of her house a sheet just like that to protect the mattress. Your apron smells the same as my bed.”

“Well then, she might also have latex clothes, but did not show them to you.”

“That might be, but I don’t know when she would have time to wear them, she is so busy.”

“So are you.” Jenn looked at him admiringly.

“Isabella might know. May be you should ask her. I am too embarrassed; it would look like snooping” replied Bernardo. “However, I don’t think she does.

“Well, you see, I have several garments out of latex. In this drawer I have underwear.”

She pulled out of her closet two nightgowns, a shirt, a couple of skirts, two dresses. Bernardo could not help his hand from feeling them. Something deep happened in him and he felt his penis becoming hard.

“As I can afford them, I plan on having many more things. There is a young woman by the name of Patricia. She is an expert latex seamstress. She supplied me with these.”

“How long ago have you known about latex?” asked Bernardo.

“Very recently only”.  Jenn blushed.

“Do you enjoy it?”

“A little too much, I must confess.”

“Well, now that you have confessed… you are forgiven. Enjoy it lots! I don’t know what’s so much to enjoy, frankly” teased Bernardo.

“You can find out since you have a latex sheet on your bed.”

Bernardo did not know how to answer that.

“What am I to do with Frank? He knows nothing about latex”  he wondered aloud.

“You know what? I am going to talk to Patricia about you two.”

“Ok! I shall be waiting.”

Bernardo though it was a joke. He turned to the paperwork on the desk.

“Let’s go back to the proposal, shall we?” asked Bernardo.

*     *     *

02.07.09