Celine's Seduction To Rubber

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Moving In

For the next two hours I had to help my governess move bedding, furniture, carpet, and drapes from room to room. When these chores were finally over, my old bedroom had all but disappeared: taken over by the woman sent to torment me. Frau Baxter had changed her mind and taken my beloved wooden bed for her own while I was left with a narrow, metal-framed excuse. I stood with my back to the window and watched while she made-up hers with fresh linen then covered it with a quilted satin counterpane taken from one of her enormous travelling chests. These were now housed next door in what was to have been her bedroom.

Although she seemed happy enough with the drapes we had fitted, she next took measurements of the single large window, then I was enlisted to help unpack her two suitcases, whilst she loaded the contents into the tallboy and wardrobe. When this was done, she turned to me once more.

“Now Celine, I require that you to go to the bathroom, undress, and have a long shower. Mind that you scrub well! I will come for you when I am finished here and shall expect to find you antiseptically clean and ready for my inspection.”

“And have you decided what clothes I am to wear?” I asked, foolishly attempting sarcasm.

“You need take none of your clothes with you girl!” she snapped back. “I will bring your new ensemble when you have finished your ablutions.”

New ‘ensemble’?

My mind went blank then tried to imagine just what this might be. I recalled seeing a cartoon of prim French schoolgirls, marching in line behind their Governess, all dressed in matching uniforms of blue sailor suits, topped with broad straw ‘boater’ hats and the thought seemed at once laughable yet grave. Had my father decided on these new clothes, or would they be the choice of my new Governess, similar perhaps to her own severe style of dress?

I did as ordered, showering then towelling myself dry. When finished, Frau Baxter still had not come to fetch me and I thought about returning to the room but decided against it. After a minute, then two, then five; at last the silence was broken by a strange rustling sound. My Governess came into the bathroom and at once I saw the source of the noise. Blinded, I would still have known what manner of material she carried draped across her forearms, for the pungent aroma of rubber at once filled the room. The towel that had been wrapped around my middle fell to the floor, leaving me to stand naked and open-mouthed, transfixed, while she laid the items over the chair back. The material squeaked as one shiny layer moved against another, but I still could not believe what I was seeing!

Frau Baxter laid out the grey-coloured items and I caught the many facets of light that reflected from the gleaming surfaces as she held one of them up before me; something instantly recognisable, but could it be meant for me? It was a copy of a one piece suit I remembered from my childhood; a play suit for a two or three year old, but this garment was adult-sized; large enough for me, and I knew that I was destined to be its wearer.

She closed upon me holding the suit high in one hand, pulling its long zip down with her other, and I tried to back away, but had nowhere to go. A mixture of fear and the threat of something new and unknown, yet also a stirring in my loins made me hesitate then. Slowly there also came a tingling on the surface of my skin and the aroma of the rubber assailed my senses so that I began to feel heady, giddy. Unexpectedly, she lifted the suit and threw it across her left shoulder while she advanced on my cowering form.

“Let me look at you properly girl! Stand straight now!”

I stood still while she circled me, allowing her to lift my arms and inspect beneath them. She returned to my front, and, using her left foot, spread my legs and tilted her head to inspect my delta! For the first time she touched me, tenderly, high upon my inner thigh. I expected a roughness; a coldness, but her finger was soft and warm. She let it trace a line up my left thigh, circling around the top of my outer labia, then down again to finish on my right thigh. Her finger was next angled so that her nail was on my skin rather than her finger tip, and drawn down to my knee. She watched my face as I took a sharp intake of breath. Was her touch a s****l caress, or merely a test of my reaction? I was not to find out that day.

“Not bad Celine,” she granted me, stepping back. “Now, put your hands upon my shoulders and step into your underwear.” She swept the rubber garment down and held it open at knee height. I hesitated only to hear her voice sharpen, “Quickly now! We do not have all day, girl!”

I lifted first one leg then the other, allowing her to pull the suit up to my waist. Small white clouds formed as the talcum which had coated the inner surface of the rubber garment was disturbed. When the gusset of the pants had reached my s*x, the long legs covered me to just below the knee, where elasticised openings lightly gripped the tops of my shins. Other, heavier and wider bands held the garment snug to my upper thighs and around my waist. The ample rubber material between these fastenings billowed out, seeming to be gas-filled pockets.

Frau Baxter next slipped my arms into the sleeves of the suit and I felt more of the tight elasticised bands at elbow and wrist draw the garment closely in to these joints. A moment later I felt and heard her draw the rear zip at the middle of my back up to the suit’s neck edging, stretching the elasticized seam at that point to match the other crimped openings and an almost electric tingling between my still-damp s*x lips seemed to increase as the zip rose! When the fastener was drawn higher up my back, it also joined together a wide, formed inner band around my upper chest, forming a snug, bra-like strap! I could not understand how just the touch of this natural product could arouse me in a manner so similar to the touch of Michael’s boyishly soft fingertips had done.

“There! That wasn’t too bad, was it child?” she asked. I did not expect she was waiting for reply, for she spun me around so I could look upon my reflection in the still partly steamed-up bathroom mirror. “Now! Put on this wrap and go back to the room,” she continued. “We don’t want you catching cold standing on these tiles, do we?” She pulled a heavy, grey rubber cape about my shoulders.