by Stella

She ran as fast as her high heels would allow her, splashing through puddles, aware the rain was soaking through her blouse and making it even more transparent than it was before. Bad choice girl, thought Linsey, as she caught a glimpse of herself in a shop window, hair already matted and her stockings splashed with oily marks. Bad choice thinking she could make it all the way to the pub and back in this weather without getting wet, and going out without her jacket.

She wasn't going to make it to the office, so she ran into the shop doorway. The plan was to stand and either let the cloudburst pass, or catch someone from the office who had the sense to go out with a brolly and give her shelter. Bad choice for doorways, thought Linsey: it was one of those shops that didn't have a doorway as such. She had no choice but to go inside.

On a day of bad choices, this one was about the worst. Of course the shop had reflective windows with nothing much in them. This was one of those shops that sold plastic. Plastic corsets, plastic leggings (could you call them stockings if they were made of latex, she wondered?) plastic shoulder-length gloves, plastic hoods and plastic things she couldn't even begin to imagine what use they'd be.

Well, not all plastic. Some rubber too, naturally.

"This is great", thought Linsey. "Someone from the office was bound to have seen me dash in here and will already be passing on the good news". Guess what, guys, Linsey Mallen is into kinky stuff. You should have seen her rush straight into that fetish-wear shop on the corner. You know, the one where the mannequin is all dolled up in shiny black latex and six-inch high heels. Mind you, I always knew there was something odd about her. That last voice in her head would be Sally Dawson. Bitch Number One in an office with more than its fair share of jealous dogs.

The woman behind the glass counter was looking at Linsey. "Fuck", Linsey thought. "Even she thinks I'm a customer. A woman who'd go home tonight and loosen off her corset and kick off her stilettos and say: You know, I had this woman in, all soaking and hot for our latest item, the double headed dildo with bells on the strap, so it tinkles when you..."

Linsey cleared her mind and smiled at the woman behind the counter. She was about her own age, sensibly dressed for a fetish outfitters: black ankle-length leather pencil skirt, thin white lace top so her black lace bra could show through. In case anyone came in here and thought this was a charity shop.

"I'm sorry," said Linsey. The first thing that came into her head. Always a mistake that, opening your mouth before speaking, she reflected. But maybe the woman is testing out plastic earplugs and missed all that. No, she wasn't at all.

"Sorry about what?" The sales assistant moved out from behind the glass counter, her high heels clicking on the polished floor. The expensive-looking floor where Linsey was dripping rain water.

"Sorry about not wanting to buy anything." Another blunder. Caution: when wet this model speaks idiotic.

The woman in the black and white (correction, black and white with black showing through) smiled. "You could just try something on then. Plastic," she added, "is very good in the wet."

Linsey couldn't help smiling. "I don't think you have anything in my size." A voice in her head, not Sally Dawson's this time, said: Don't be stupid, you think they don't do size tens for a woman of 25 of average height and build?

The fetish queen stepped forward. "Oh I am sure we can fit you up with something from our strange section." She was smiling even more now, her large dark brown eyes (almost matching her jet black hair, which was disappointing as Linsey figured everyone in this sort of place would be blonde. Er, like she was herself.)

"Uh, you have a strange section? What is it, twin-sets and pearls for the older woman?"

"Oh, we do have older women in. Mostly rubber rather than plastic." The young woman didn't seem the slightest fazed. But then she wouldn't be, Linsey reminded herself, not when you sell rubber bras with holes for nipples to poke through. No doubt for tassels to be attached. "Older women," the assistant purred, "seem to like the slightly constrictive look. Holds them in nicely."

Nicely. Now there was a word Linsey never thought she'd hear in Rubber World, or whatever the place was called. "Okay. Well, I just came in out of the rain. Just to um, shelter."

"That's okay," said the assistant. "I'm Sabrina." She held her hand out in greeting and Linsey took it for the shortest handshake it was possible to do. "Manager of Proof. My little shop." The woman continued with a note of pride.

"Proof," echoed Linsey. "Nice."

"You're not thinking we do private investigations on the side?" Sabrina grinned.

"No," lied Linsey, wishing she hadn't thought of that at all. "How long have you been open?"

"Seven weeks and three days." A beat. "I would have thought an attractive woman like you would have called in before now instead of waiting for a wet day as an excuse." Another beat. "I can see from your shirt you like see through things."

"No really, it was only because I got caught in the rain–" She blushed, realising Sabrina was winding her up and her own blouse really was quite transparent. "Oh, okay, yes. I should have done." Linsey looked round at the mannequins inside the shop. She noticed there were no male dummies, nothing that looked as if they were for men. Unless they were transgender and wanted to wear corsets with suspenders and inflatable tits, of course. Darling, I'll just slip into something sexy, breathed the husband. One of your bras, tonight please, Ronald, not one of mine, responded Mildred...

"You look a little lost in thought," said Sabrina.

"Just a few wild thoughts," said Linsey.

"Wild enough to try on our latest design?"

Linsey blinked at the manager. "You make these?"

"Mostly to order. But we keep a stock for the casual customer." Sabrina's eyes sparkled.

Linsey looked round, mostly at the window, seeing how it was throwing it down harder than ever. Her blouse would be not so much transparent as washed away if she chanced a home run in this downpour. Oh well, she thought, there goes the quick exit plan.

"I was looking," she said, turning her gaze back to Sabrina, "for something in clear plastic." There, she thought, that should throw her off. All this stuff is black or red or midnight blue. I bet I will have to go to a little place called "Nothing Visible Fashions" or wherever for that. Or we're not expecting that to be in fashion for another ten years. If you could please call back then...

"In that case, let me show you what I have," said Sabrina, indicating Linsey should go to the back of the damn shop. "This way, madam."

Linsey felt helpless. She sighed and did what she was told. God, my hair must look a mess, what will this woman think?

Sabrina was there first, reaching for something off a rack. Linsey thought, as a see through plastic dress was held up: This is our no hiding place number, guaranteed to attract attention at the most revealing lesbian orgy... Linsey blinked what she'd thought. Now why did I think of that word. I thought I'd banned the L word from my life? It was four years ago.

"I think you should try this on," said Sabrina, holding the clear plastic dress out and against Linsey. "Good thing is you don't worry about having wet skin," she added.

"And where exactly do I change?" Linsey grabbed the dress a little abruptly. Don't think of the L word again. L's don't wear see through clothes anyway. They go naked for... Stop it now!

Sabrina appeared not to have noticed and indicated the small changing room to one side. Saloon type doors so if anyone wanted to look in they could. Privacy isn't something we tolerate here at Proof, in fact I don't know why you don't strip off out here madam. Thank goodness the place is empty, apart from this Sabrina creature and she's seen it all before.

Linsey went in to the changing room, hoping the sun was coming out. A quick glance showed her it wasn't. In the small room, she was appalled that the manager was standing at the door, watching her. Believe me, lady, I am not going to run off in this. Waterproof I have no doubt, but just not right for a solicitor's office. About your divorce, Mrs Ellington, you think your husband was attracted to someone like me?

Linsey felt the eyes of the young woman on her as she kicked her shoes off and disrobed as far as her plain white bra and panties. "You won't need those on," said Sabrina, matter-of-factly. "The style is for naked underneath."

"Then I might as well not wear anything at all," snapped Linsey.

"Oh you'll be surprised what a little transparency can do for you," smiled Sabrina, not at all offended. But the manager didn't say anything about the fact Linsey had left her stockings on. For modesty, of course.

Naked, right. So you can see how I haven't shaved down there since Jayne did it. Four years growth. Tufty, really. Linsey slipped off her bra, hesitated over her white panties but did it anyway, secretly glad to get out of her wet things and noting her panties were damp. Some rainstorm – or was it inside? Oh no, surely not... She stuffed them out of sight inside her discarded skirt, aware her boobs were hanging. Cold, as her nipples were hard.

Linsey blushed, conscious she was being watched. Go on, have a good look, woman. I bet you're all clean and neat with your Brazilian or whatever you people choose down there. I bet no one comes in here with a bush like this.

"Nice," said Sabrina, nodding from where she stood, holding the saloon doors open with her body.


"Your pubic hair. I like it. It will look good through the dress.

Bloody sales talk. I bet she says that to all the lesb– No! Stop it! That was ages ago. I've grown up now and Jayne's gone. No need to think about that at all. Linsey fumbled the dress on, sliding it down over her naked body, feeling the plastic rub against her hard nipples, brushing her pubic hair. The dress was short, barely covering her rump, as if that mattered, and it sat on her like a sheer outer skin. Well, in a way it was.

"So?" asked Linsey, not quite sure how you stand in a plastic transparent plastic outfit, when you have everything available on show.

"So, look in the mirror, tell me what you think." Sabrina shrugged. "It's you who's wearing it."

"Um, there isn't one in here," said Linsey.

"That's because you wouldn't get far enough away in there to see it all properly. But there's one out here in the shop. Come and look at yourself."

Oh shit, I am not walking out there like this. What if someone comes in and sees me? I'd die! And yes, they would see me wouldn't they? All of me: tits, bush, arse... even that small scar on my hip from falling out of the tree when I was nine. Excuse me, aren't you Linsey Mallen, that up-and-coming young lawyer I've heard so much about? Ah, how nice to see you don't have any secrets hidden away.

Linsey stepped out, shaking slightly. Fortunately the mirror was hidden from the view from the street, but she still shivered. Nerves or cold or... don't think about it, girl. The dress creaked slightly, almost pleasantly as she walked, the sheer material rubbing against her and making her body tingle. That and the way Sabrina was looking at her.

The mirror was on the far wall and Linsey walked to it, aware she still had her hold up stockings on and the small gap between the tops of the hold ups and the bottom of the dress. Bare feet and a see-through dress just seemed so, well, wrong.

She stood and looked at herself. Sure the dress was see through and her nipples looked way too obvious, but it wasn't a plain transparent dress: a little ruffled clear plastic around the neckline (not too low, don't want to appear a slut) and a little more of the decoration at the short sleeves. Almost classic really, apart from the length and the material of course.

Sabrina was watching Linsey, how she moved, how her fingers caught the very short hem and made a little tugging-down gesture as if to hide something. Her hand smoothing across her stomach, checking she hadn't put too much weight on lately. She fussed at her still matted hair, as if concerned her flattened blonde hair was spoiling the look. Checking she hadn't got a ladder in her stockings.

Okaaaay, hair is a mess. It's official. So, 25 and still a good figure, Linsey honey. Tits and bum not going south yet and sure, the plastic gives me an interesting sheen, and I can see my nipples through it and even my blonde pubes, and hey look, there's my slit. Fuck, I'm all on show and feel wet down there! And now this Sabrina is standing up close behind me, hand on my shoulder and she's moving her face close to mine. For heaven's sake, don't I get any bloody privacy here? Now she's putting her hand round me. Oh sure, a fitting service. A little tighter here, madam, across the bust, perhaps? The considerate touch. Considerate touches, plural. Service with a smile and blazing, sexy eyes.

Sabrina was smiling, stroking her hand across Linsey's breasts – or more accurately her nipples, feeling them through the thin plastic – her breath on Linsey's flushed cheek. Shit, why are my nips so hard? Why am I not stopping her lifting this ridiculously short hem and putting her hand on my bush. Her finger's in it, for fuck's sake! What's she looking for? To see how wet it is down there? Okay, so my legs are apart and I'm breathing hard and I am wriggling as she puts those long fingers in me. So, isn't this how they check how things fit in places like this? Oh I know, turning your head and kissing her, just part of what they do here. Customer satisfaction, right? The customer is always right... right turned on, always hot. Always desperate for more, deeper in her.

The kiss was soft and gentle, like she remembered with Jayne. Good, that's what it should be. The dress creaked a little more as she moved. Nice sound, in its own sweet way. Lips parted, as they should be when receiving a kindness.

I want, of course, a guarantee with this dress, Miss Sabrina Lesbian. Money back unless completely satisfied. Satisfied every time we make love. Yes, rubbing my clit is a start, making it even harder under your fingertips. Making it pop out from under its hood and making me gasp. Oh.... Okay, no problem if I turn to face you a little more, open my mouth more, put my hands on your boobs. Yes, that makes it easier for you to finger me, doesn't it? Ah, yes!

For all Linsey knew, the rain could have stopped. It hardly mattered now; not when Sabrina was so close. The fire inside warming her through.

Tell me, before we go too far, have you got anything to fuck me with? Preferably in clear plastic, naturally. To go with my new outfit.

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See Through. Copyright 2007 Stella Engle. Return to Stories List