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Comments on the story are welcome andencouraged. If you haven't read the other two missives, I wouldencourage you to go back and read them. It might help bring this intoperspective.Now, on with the show.Erica collapsed on the couch as she let the bags she'd collected throughthe day fall to her feet. Letting a long breath out as she looked up atSandy, she said, "How do you do it? That was exhausting!" Sandy andErica had just spent close to 6 hours at the mall, trying new clothes onSandy and basically using her as an excuse to buy new wardrobes for bothof them. For Erica it was understandable, as she'd only been a "woman"for less than 24 hours. But when Sandy started into adding more clothingto her considerable "collection", Sandy's only comment was that shewasn't going to let Erica look better than her! At least not in thewardrobe department. It was also an opportunity to teach Eric, nowErica, the finer points of being female ? to include flirting, puttingoff unwelcome advances (there. Susan had the almost uncontrollable urge to reach down and begin fingering herself ... so instead, she drained her Cosmopolitan and went to her room to put on less revealing clothing.She returned in time for a last drink before supper. The androgynous person behind the bar was very good at their job and Susan realized she was contemplated thanking them for their skill with oral sex.“I’m glad you changed clothes, Susan,” Lizzy said from behind her.Breaking her target lock on the bartender, Susan turned to face her.“Why, Lizzy ... were you getting excited?” Susan breathed as she leaned in to kiss Lizzy’s neck.The concubine was trembling as Susan licked her ear lobe.“Susan!” Jason said in a voice that brought her up short.“Yes...” she fought the urge to add ‘Sir’.“Control yourself, or I’ll have someone control you.”“You won’t do it yourself? Why? Are you afraid?”“No, but I do have my evening planned.” He raised his voice. “Otter! Come take Susan to her room. We’ll have supper sent in for.
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Her mind focused upon the hemline of the short black skirt, and how the wrinkles in the taut material stretched up to one side and evaporated as the maid legs swung back and forth as it walked. She couldn’t understand it, she had never shown the slightest interest in clothes, and especially fetish wear. The whole idea of dressing up like some tart was degrading to women. So how was she suddenly so fixated upon it? Yet she did. She longed for it. She thought how the tight fitting latex would pull and pinch her, force her body into a more curvaceous and desirable form. Well she did desire it. She actually felt jealous and that astonished her. Had she undergone some personality change? The page lay open unread before her unseeing eyes. Her thoughts locked on to the smallest detail of the latex uniform. She longed to have one, she felt desperate to earn one. Perhaps she should go online and order herself one? But it had to be just like the one their maid wore. Where does one get them.

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