Thaasophobe
One – Rubber Baby
It had started out as a game, the summer before. We’d steal candy bars and fruit from grocery stores, if you can believe that. It’s not like we needed it, but we were bored, you know?
Well of course we started doing other stuff. We got pretty good at it, too. But we got bored with it all, too. Then Sara came up with a great idea. She figured we should have a game. A challenge! Each of us had a month to heist just one thing. The one who nabbed the coolest thing would win. It wouldn’t be judged on price, but on daring. Joanna thought we should have a prize, but Sara and me outvoted her on that one. It was really just for bragging rights, otherwise where’s the fun?
I knew just where I wanted to do my dirty little deed, too. There was a new store out on the edge of town, a little ways off from the Interstate, called Thaasophobe. I looked it up online. “A person with an intense, irrational fear of boredom,” or some such. The windows were all heavily tinted and there were signs about having to be eighteen before you could come in. They didn’t even have a window display yet, beyond a few posters with body jewelry and a rack with rubber underwear.
Well, anyway, my eighteenth birthday was halfway through that month. I told Sara and Joanna that my family wanted to haul me off for the day, and I told my family that I was spending it with the girls, and then I made for the edge of town. They had a new window display, that day. Two mannequins covered head to toe in shiny latex. Thigh-high latex boots over the legs of latex catsuits. Long latex opera gloves went up the sleeves and hoods were tucked under the collars of the catsuits. The hoods covered rubber faces that looked almost like they were really moaning as they held each other’s breasts. It looked really cool, and I wasn’t even into that stuff.
I was still looking at the mannequins when I pulled the door open. I had to admit it was different. It even got me feeling a little tingly way down, if you know what I mean. Anyway, the inside of the place didn’t disappoint. It was lit low and decorated in deep warm colors and had soft, soulful blues piping out of the walls. Right by the door, on a letterboard, were the words:
WELCOME TO THAASOPHOBE!SHOPLIFTERS WILL BE ENSLAVED!THIS MEANS YOU!
I gave a little giggle at that. I’d seen it before, but it just seemed so much more appropriate here. While I wandered around the labyrinth of shelving, looking for something to lift, I found out that the place was owned by three partners who each did their own thing. One did lingerie and fetish gear and bondage toys, one did tatts and piercings, and one ran an in-house coffeeshop/bookstore. You could stop off for a cup of coffee and flip through a few erotic titles after you buy that nice leather harness that shows off your new nipple piercings so well. All they needed was to sell mattresses and they’d be the one-stop shop.
I had a little trouble, at first, finding a moment away from the small army of girls offering their help like every two minutes. I started to have second thoughts about robbing the place, not because I thought I’d get caught but because I really wanted to shop here. This was a hell of a cool place! They had their own line of lingerie and fetish gear. It was called Addictive Touch. A name like that, I couldn’t help but run my fingers over it. It made me tingle more and more. I found the catsuits that the mannequins were wearing in the window and couldn’t help but run my fingers over it. It was smooth and cool and as I imagined myself wearing it, I had the sudden urge to try it against my bare breasts.
I flushed a deep red as I thought about it. I was suddenly very aware of my nipples pressed into the cotton bra I was wearing and the sweaty garment suddenly seemed harsh. I looked down at the cool slick material in my hands and my nipples seemed to cry out for a try at it.
I could try it on, of course.... but I didn’t really have time, did I? The more I lingered here, the more attention I drew to myself. I couldn’t put it down, though – not without at least trying it. I glanced around. I was in an aisle that was fairly cut off from the rest of the store. No one could see me. I lifted my tee-shirt and pulled one side of my bra up over the tit, freeing it, and pressed the rubber of the catsuit up against it...
“Can I help you with something?”
I jumped right out of my skin and screamed, dropping the catsuit and whipping my tee-shirt back down. Off to my left, walking toward me with a smile on her face, was a tall slender blond woman that wasn’t dressed in one of the uniforms. She was wearing a dress that looked like it came straight from Paris, except that it was made of a really thin white rubber. “We have a dressing room, you know.”
“I... I wa... I... I was just.... I”
She laughed at that and said, “Relax. You’re not the first one to try that. It’s not a problem. Now, if you’d been trying on our line of rubber panties out here, that would be different.”
I giggled nervously, picking up the catsuit and slinging it back on its hanger. “It’s just... it’s a full catsuit, and I don’t...” I shrugged, not knowing what to say.
“Well, I don’t just make catsuits out of that material, you know. Why don’t we try you in a bustier?”
She started sorting through the rubber racks and I decided it might be best to politely bow out at this point. “No, really, I should...”
She reached out and caught me by my belly, cooing, “Don’t worry about it. You’ll love it, I promise. Hell, if you want it, I’ll even give you a killer discount for it. It’ll be a steal.”
“You can do that?”
“Well, I’m one of the owners and I designed this line, so yeah. Now, from what I saw, this should be a good fit for you.” She had pulled out a black rubber bustier. My breasts cried out to be encased in it the moment I saw it. I flushed all red again, breathing deeper, as she ran her fingers along the inside of the cups. “They’re coated with a thin material that heightens tactile stimulation, so not only does it feel good against your breasts, your breasts feel it more acutely.”
I stood and stared, lightheaded. I needed to leave. I had to go. I’d attracted the attention of the owners and... and I... I felt really warm...
She smiled patiently as I stood staring at the rubber garment in her hands, and then slowly reached out and lifted my shirt. I jumped again, but she shushed me gently. “Relax. Let’s just try this on you.” I found myself holding up my own shirt as she pulled up the other half of the cotton bra and smiled down at my naked chest. “You have such beautiful breasts,” she told me, “It seems a shame to keep them in something so mundane.”
I felt terribly exposed, the breeze of the air conditioning blowing across me, but I stood and watched as she unzipped the back of the bustier, spread it open in her hands, and ever so slowly pressed the cups up against me. I gasped, material feeling wonderful as her hands fitted the cups snugly under my breasts and then slid up to smooth out the wrinkles against them. She caught my eye with a mischievous grin and gave me a firm squeeze before sliding her hands around my torso and pulling the material tight. As she worked her hands around, she leaned in against me, her own rubber-coated breasts pressing in against mine, and I felt her warm breath against my ear. As she zipped it up, my breasts now snug and firm inside the rubber, I realized that her nipples were playing against my own, and I heard her whisper into my ear, “Like it?”
I leaned back to look her in the eye and she still had that grin, saying, “The bustier. Do you like it?” I relaxed just a bit, still breathing hard as she stepped around me, one hand sliding along the material from the back around to the front. As that hand brushed my breast, I realized my thighs were pressed tightly together inside my blue jeans and my pussy was trembling.
“Yes,” was all I could manage to whisper.
As she stepped behind me, that one hand took a firm hold on my breast, and the other wrapped around my abdomen, pulling me back against her. I felt the material of her dress pressing against the skin of my back not held by the bustier. Her lips brushed against my ear as I leaned my head back, moaning. “...and my hands? Do you like them, too?”
I turned my head away from her, my face burning in shame. “Yes.”
“Take your pants down.”
I turned my head to look into her eyes. She smiled and reached for one of the racks, pulling out a pair of black rubber panties. “I want you to feel this against your naked pussy. I want you to squirm in my hands.”
Awkwardly, I realized my arms were still held high, holding up my tee-shirt. For a moment, it all seemed almost comical. “I... I’m not...”
But she gently sushed me again, gently rolling my nipple between her fingers. I stopped talking, rolling my head back and moaning again as my back arched, thrusting out my hips. “I don’t care,” she whispered. “I just want you to feel it. It’ll blow your mind away, I promise.”
Almost without meaning to, I let go of my shirt, lowering my hands to undo my fly. She whispered, “Good girl,” and I half-giggled, pulling my pants and my panties down off my hips, giving her room. She actually gasped, seeing my sex exposed. “You wax, you darling girl.”
All I could do was nod. I suddenly didn’t know what to do with my hands, but she did. “Reach back,” she told me, “with both hands and take a firm hold on my ass. Pull yourself back against me.” I did, no longer caring that she was a girl. As I did, my own naked ass pressed against that material and I had to fight the urge to rub against it.
Then it happened. Holding the front of the slender panties, she pressed the inside of them up against my naked wet sex and my reality exploded as I came, jerking my hips wildly in her hand. I screamed in ecstasy, tearing my voice from my lungs as my whole body shook in her arms, my tits, my ass and my pussy all squeezed against that delicious rubber.
When the convulsions finally stopped and the screams died on my lips, I leaned back, panting against her, she still holding the rubber panties to my now dripping sex. “Oh, god,” I whispered, still squirming against her.
“No,” she whispered back, “Not god. Goddess.” I turned to look her in the eyes and she smiled at me. “Your goddess.”
I didn’t even think about it. I knew it was true. “Yes, my Goddess.”
She smiled and kissed me. I kissed back, pressing my sex into her hand. When we came up for air, she looked me in the eyes again and said, “Now I want you to tell your Goddess the truth.”
“Yes, my Goddess?”
“You came here to steal from me, didn’t you?”
I’d forgotten. My cheeks burned in shame again and I tore my eyes away from her, looking at the floor. I tried to pull my body away as well, but she cooed at me and told me to relax. “You didn’t actually do it,” she told me, “you hadn’t even put anything in your pockets yet, right?”
I shook my head no, still too embarrassed to look at her.
“So there’s nothing to fret over, is there?” She tugged on my chin so I looked in her eyes, and then she kissed me again. Then she told me, “But you picked the wrong day. We had two shoplifters already, this morning, so we’re on the alert, as it were. We were already watching you, and we would have caught you, but I don’t want to have to do to you what I did to them.”
I looked at her quizzically, and she told me, “I like the way you look. I like the way you squirm and the way you sound when you’re breathing hard. I don’t want to make you into a mannequin like I did Sara and Joanna – standing motionless in the window, encased in rubber, forever on the edge of orgasm but never able to come... I want to play with you.”
Something about what she’d just said should have upset me, I knew, but I couldn’t think of what. All I knew was that my Goddess wanted to play with me more.
“So I’ll give you a choice,” she told me. “I’ll let you walk away from here, right now, and you can be free. You can go back to the life you were living and just be a customer here. I’d even let you keep the panties and the bustier for free, as a gift. A reward from your Goddess for being so honest with Her. But we’d never be this close again.”
I wanted to cry. How could my Goddess think that I’d want to leave Her? I couldn’t...
“Or,” she continued, “you could have all the rubber you could ever want. I’ll give you all that you ask for and more, if you do but one thing for me.”
“Anything, my Goddess.”
“Give yourself to me. All that is you for me to remake in my image.” I leaned back into Her, arching my back and pressing my breasts into her hand and my sex into the rubber panties she still held there. “You’ll never leave this shop again, living here, working here, worshiping me, serving me, loving me...” My head swam and I bucked my hips, “You’ll be my slave, my pet, my priestess...” My right hand came around, gripping her hand and pressing it into me, my left squeezed her ass, pulling it tightly against me, “You’ll convert others to my worship but still be my favorite...” I let out a long, shaking moan, delirious, “You’ll sleep each night in rubber sheets on a rubber bed, exhausted from the worship of my rubber-coated pussy...” my hips shook, my mind reeled.... “Your old self will die away and you’ll rise again as my latex angel!”
My clit went off like an atomic bomb and I screamed, “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!” Tears rolled down my cheeks and I spasmed in her hands, slowly melting from the fires of orgasm. “Yes! Yes! YEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!” I screamed and bucked against my beautiful Goddess, my reason for being, until finally overcome with nameless joy, I passed out in Her arms, Hers forevermore.
It’s been a year, and I can’t remember a single moment of unhappiness, partly because I don’t remember my life before Here, this Heaven where I exist for Her. True to Her Divine Word, I’ve been given all the latex I want. I’m always the first to see Her designs and anything I like and ask Her for, She lets me have. Today, for instance, I’m wearing black latex pants and ankle boots and a fire-engine red latex tee-shirt. My Goddess even airbrushed it for me with the name Rubber Baby, which she likes to call me. I used to have another name, out in that sad world I see outside the window sometimes, but it no longer matters.
Today, my Goddess asked me to clean the mannequins in the window and change their suits. They’d faded in the sun after a year, it seems. After I laid them down and stripped them naked, I washed them gently with a soapy cloth. Looking into the blank-eyed faces of my former friends, I thought of the irony. We’d all lost the game, but I’d come out on top.