Chrissie's Fantasies

Something I wrote in the heat of the moment, took me ages to weed out the spelling mistakes, but I did get a bit carried away . .

Monday, November 17, 2008

My Tube Ordeal


This one came to me while I was riding the London Underground recently


The second outfit has arrived, the package is on my bed. I've showered, shaved and oiled as the instructions said and now
have no excuse not to open it and discover my fate for this
afternoon.

Opening the box brings an interestingly pungent smell to my nostrils, peeling away the layers of tissue reveals black shiny
material, I sigh gently and pull the various items from the box and lay them on
the bed.

Naked now I take a small tin of talc and lightly powder my legs, from toes all the way up to the top of my thighs. This is necessary as the first item I have to put on is a pair of black latex
stockings. I roll them and slip the first one over my toes, easing my foot into
it and sliding the rubber over my heel. Gradually smoothing the latex over my
foot I ease them a little higher, careful to avoid wrinkles and twists. Over the
knee and up the thigh, the latex gripping me tightly as I stretch it almost to
my crotch. The top has a thin studded strap attached, this I fasten around my
thigh, threading it through the small silver buckle and drawing it tight around
my leg, in the absence of suspenders this will keep the stocking from sliding
down. the second latex stocking follows the first, on to my other leg, both now
encased in skin tight latex.

A ridiculously small black latex thong follows, barely cupping my naked pubis and cutting high up between my buttocks. A sheer gauzy blouse in a semi-transparent grey material goes on my top (no bra this time?) buttoned up to a high mandarin neck but with quite puffy sleeves buttoned at the wrist. The skirt is short, very shiny black PVC with a zip up the back, it slides up the latex
stockings with a sibilant sound and once fastened squeaks against the rubber every time I move my legs. At least the stockings are long enough that I don't reveal the tops (but it's a close thing).

The shoes are next, black patent strappy sandals with 5" stiletto heels. I slip my latex clad foot into the toe of the first one and fasten the three thin straps around my leg just above the
ankle. The other follows and I stand relatively confidently, feeling about ten feet tall and not sure just how easily I will walk in them. I practise a little, sashaying up and down my bedroom, getting the feel of the shoes and rolling my hips to compensate for the heels, skirt squeaking all the
time.

I clip the onyx teardrop earrings on my lobes as specified, the silver settings contrasting with the black stones, a matching pendant dangles from a silver chain around my neck. Makeup includes the glossy red lipstick you bought me and your favourite silver-grey metallic
eyeshadow.

Lastly the gloves, little black latex gloves that come just to my wrists where they buckle with little studded straps that match those on the stockings, I wiggle my fingers and make sure that the
rubber is tight against my skin. An aerosol of silicone spray is included in the package and a swift spray of this makes the gloves and the stockings shine in the light from my bedside lamps.

Re-reading the note I phone for a taxi and fetch my black plastic Mac from the wardrobe. I slip this on, grab my clutch bag and I'm waiting on the steps as the Taxi pulls up. "Oxford
Circus" I tell the driver as I settle into the back of the cab, trying hard not to squeak too much.

I pay the driver and carefully get out, I can see you waiting by the entrance to the underground, leaning on the railings. I walk up beside you, conscious of your eyes on me. "You look good Chrissie, if a little apprehensive" I swallow and give you a smile, wondering what's next for
me. "Here, take this into the public toilets there, I'll see you on the Southbound Bakerloo platform when you're ready" you walk off, leaving me with a small, elegantly wrapped parcel. I quickly walk to the toilets and negotiate the steps down. Locking myself in a cubicle I strip the paper off the
box and open it, inside nestle two chrome silver balls a little smaller than golf balls, a short cord joining them. A note says simply "In your pussy, don't tell me it's not wet".
I open the Mac and sit on the seat, opening my legs and pulling the silly little thong to one side. Two fingers verify that I am anything but dry. The balls are cold when I pick them up, colder still as I press the first one against my bald pussy. I use the fingers of my other hand to spread myself and a firm push and my own lubrication does the rest, the cold ball feeling huge as it slips inside me. The second follows the first and I feel an extremely strange sensation as they click together inside me. I rearrange the thong to cover myself, stand up and smooth down the skirt.
Belting the Mac again I flush the toilet and leave the cubicle. As I climb the steps and
then descend into the tube station I can feel the balls inside me, evidently they have smaller balls inside that roll around as I walk, giving me little tremors inside my pussy at every step.

I purchase my day travel card and go down the escalator, eventually finding my way to the Bakerloo platform. Not too many people at the moment as it's about 3.30, but it will start to pick up soon. I see you at the very end of the platform, standing alone and gazing into the
depths of the black tunnel from which the train will come.

"Ah good girl, are they in?" a nod from me brings a smile " and they are comfortable?" a second nod and a broader smile "good, now face me and open the Mac". I face away from the fairly empty platform and unbelt the Mac, holding it open so can see me "Very nice
Chrissie, you make an excellent latex tart, I have just one more enhancement,
stay like that" so saying you unbutton my blouse, pulling it open until my
breasts are on display, my nipples semi hard. You note this and dip your head,
giving each a quick suck and bringing a gasp from me "I need these hard"
you say, pinching each firmly and making me squirm as I stand there holding
the Mac open. "Good, that's better" you reach into your pocket and bring out what at first I think are another pair of earrings to match those I already wear, then as you open the clip on one and slip it over my nipple I see what they are, matching nipple jewellery!
As the clamp closes on my hard nipple I groan, the pain is quite sharp at first, then tails off to a dull ache. Another pinch on my other nipple and the second clamp is attached, bringing
another small groan. "Excellent" you say as you look down at my nipples,
squeezed into a silly, flat shape by the clamps and sticking out straight,
unable to shrink or droop. Buttoning my blouse you admire my suffering nipples,
they can be seen as hard lumps under the thin material, the pendant jewellery
moving under the blouse as I breathe.

"Now, here comes the train Chrissie, your task is merely to travel to ten different stations on the tube, you must disembark at each one before travelling to the next, and you must not sit on the train, you may only travel standing. When you have finished I'll see you at my place and
we'll see just how wet you are after travelling London dressed as a cheap rubber
whore, now give me your Mac" I slowly slip the Mac off and pass it to him,
realising just what I must look like stood here in my rubber stockings, PVC
skirt and as-good-as see through blouse with my poor clamped nipples
sticking out like mini-beacons.
As the train pulls in and I turn to board it, you pass me one more thing "It's a throwaway camera Chrissie, at each station I want you to ask some helpful gentleman passer-by to take your picture by the station sign, for proof. I'm sure you'll find willing volunteers and if they happen to request
a particular pose, you WILL comply! Now go, and don't return until you have
pictures from ten different stations"

As I step carefully onto the train, my legs trembling and my tummy fluttering from the vibrations coming from the chrome balls in my pussy I see the eyes of the commuters turn to me and stare, I can only pray that I don't get too many hands up my skirt as the crowd continues to
push in behind me, a forlorn hope I think as the city gent next to me carefully looks the other way as his brolly handle rubs firmly and insistently against my buttocks . . . .

Labels: , , , , , , ,

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Dressing to Please

Well, it's time to get ready for my date. The outfit that you have sent me is lying on the bed. I just have to raise the nerve to put it on. A large glass of white wine, may help, I tell myself as I pour it with a slightly trembling hand. I sip it slowly as I look over the various parts of my costume for the night.

With a small sigh of anticipation I put down the glass and step out of my dressing gown. "In for a penny . . " I mutter as I pick up the slippery black silk thong. I slide it up my legs, the material feeling soft and slightly cold against my skin. It pulls snugly up between my legs, cupping my neatly trimmed mound and nestling between my buttocks as I pull it high and tight. Next the bra, nothing subtle about this, a fully underwired quarter cup platform bra, in black satin. I slip it a\round me and fasten the four hooks and eyes, pulling it around and up under my breasts. cupping each breast as I pull the cups up and tighten the shoulder straps I take a quick peek in the mirror. The effect is amazing, my medium sized 36B's are sticking out like double D's, offered like ripe fruit on a plate for whatever hand cares to test their firmness. My nipples are beginning to harden in anticipation, peeking over the front of the bra, will I really have the nerve to wear this?

But there's more to the outfit yet. I pick up the suspender belt next. A black PVC waspie with six whipcord thin straps with metal clips. I fasten it round my waist, sucking in a little as I do up the twelve little black hooks and eyes that make sure it grips me firmly. The stockings feel gorgeous, proper Aristoc sheer black nylons with a point heel and razor thin seams. I ease my foot into one, pulling it over my ankle and gently smoothing it up the length of my leg. The feeling is exquisite as the sheer nylon slides up my thigh, I make sure the seam is as straight as I can get it, hugging the curve of my calf and on up my thigh to where the thick welt fits tight around my leg. I clip the first suspender on at the front, pulling it taught. then the back, reaching as far round as I can get it, to make sure it lines up with the seam, a little more adjustment on this one, it needs to be really tight at the back. Then the middle one, pulling the stocking taught for that extra secure feeling. The other stocking is next, following the same routine, caressing the nylon as it slides up my leg, loving the feel as the clips close and the nylon is pulled tight across my flesh.

I can't resist a quick tease of each nipple and a soft stroke of my pussy lips through the thin silk as I decide what to put on next. I'm horny, I'm very horny and I don't know how the night is going to progress, I just feel very, very excited at what might happen to me later.

I decide to put on the blouse next, creamy white silk, thin and slippery as it slides over my arms. I pull the front together and button it, wondering if you had ignored the measurements I'd given you, as it pulls very tight across my breasts. Now the skirt. Black, shiny PVC. A micro-mini, zipping up the side, I pull it up over my nylon clad legs to discover it hardly covers my stocking tops. The smallest lean forward will expose my suspender clips for all to see, along with the white flesh of my upper thigh. When I pull the zip up it hugs my buttocks like a second skin, clearly showing the thin lines of the suspender straps underneath.

Now for the shoes. Lovely they are, glistening black patent leather, four inch heels which taper to spikes. I slip my nylon sheathed foot into the first one, wriggling my toes to get them to the end of the closed toe shoe. The double ankle strap I buckle tightly, clipping the little silver padlocks around the buckles (I hope you remember to bring the key!) When the second shoe is on and strapped just as tightly, I stand and walk a few steps, tentatively. I wear heels a lot, but these feel different, they feel like I'm on stilts, the muscles in my calves are taught and I have to walk with my back straight and my shoulders back, emphasising my breasts even more.

I slip the soft leather choker around my neck, fastening the buckle I pull the single chrome ring around to the front and let it dangle there, set off delightfully against the black leather.Now I check my make-up, add a few little touches. My lips are dark red, shiny with gloss. My eyes are bordered with silver-grey eye-shadow and my nails are as shiny and red as my lips. I pick the gloves up off the bed and pull them on, they are black lycra and they stretch past my elbows, the three quarter length sleeves of the blouse falling down over them with the turned up cuffs open.A single thick silver bangle on each wrist and I'm ready.

I check the mirror again and swallow loudly, I can't believe how I look, like a high class whore about to earn her keep for the next month. The combination of the heels and the push-up bra make me stand as if I'm offering my breasts on a plate, the sheer nylon and the PVC skirt rustle sinisterly together as I move, and the black bra and the top of the waspie suspender belt are clearly visible through the thin cream silk of my taughtly stretched blouse.Now I can only wait for your arrival, my heart pounding and my breathing heavier than it should be. I can only wonder just where you will be taking me tonight . . .