The Latex Diary Ch. 01

Author's Note: This chapter provides the backstory for the kinky chapters to follow.

Introduction

Hello, hello. My name is Ansley, and I have a confession to make: I have a bit of a latex fetish. Actually, I have a lot of a latex fetish. It's been a thing for me for a while, and I've grown an exceptionally large collection of latex garments over the years; dresses, skirts, pants, catsuits, lingerie, you name it. It's almost scary how much money I've spent over the years on the rubber clothes, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't worth it. And it's not just latex either, I have and equally wide variety of clothes made from leather, vinyl, spandex, and pretty much anything that has any semblance of shine to it, but latex is my favorite.

At this point in my life, my obsession and collection of shiny clothes is so extensive, I think I have more of that in my closet than 'regular' clothes, and by a pretty wide margin. It wasn't always that way though; there was a time when I only ever knew what was classified as 'normal,' but that was so long ago, I hardly remember most of it. That's not a problem for me anymore though, as it doesn't really matter. Over the years, though, I've had many encounters with people that ask me how I got into latex, what my experiences are like, and pretty much any other details that might be considered juicy. So with that, I decided that I'd share it all with you here in the hopes of offering you some insight into the thrill of my latex life.

Chapter 1: The beginnings of a fetish

As you can imagine, I frequently get asked how my latex fetish got started, so I might as well start at the beginning. The first seeds of what would become my fetish were planted at the tail end of my senior year of high school.

One particular day late in the year, a month or so before graduation, maybe, I got to school late due to a traffic incident. I knew there was no point in trying to catch any of my friends before the bell rang, so I just ran straight up the stars to my locker and then my first class. I made it through math and went to history immediately after. As I was going over some notes and waiting for the bell to ring to signal the start of class, I saw something that caught my eye and immediately looked up. There was my friend, Maria, walking in wearing these shiny black pants that were so glossy and reflective, they nearly acted as a mirror for everything in the room. Almost every head in the room - particularly those of the boys - turned and stared as she walked by to take her seat next to me. I was entranced by how her tight, reflective pants looked, and the sounds they made as she walked were just as intoxicating. I almost couldn't get through class without being lost in the sight of Maria and her shiny black pants sitting next to me.

It wasn't until lunch that I was able to catch up and ask her about her pants. I was so eager to learn everything I could and had a list of questions piling up in my head: Where did she get them? What were they made of? How much were they? What did they feel like?

"They're so shiny," I said as we started talking.

"I know," Maria said, "I like it."

"They look so smooth. What are they made out of?"

"PVC," Maria explained, "You can touch them if you want, you know."

I immediately took her up on that offer. I pressed my fingers into the shiny fabric on her thigh and rubbed it a bit. It really was smooth, and a bit sticky. The fact that they were PVC was definitely new information to me. I was certainly familiar with PVC being used for plastic piping like you get at the hardware store, but I never saw or even imagined it being used as a type of fabric, let alone to make clothes out of.

"Are they comfortable?" I asked, "it seems a bit sticky, and stiff."

"They're actually really comfortable. They're not nearly as stiff as you'd think, and they have a really soft lining inside, so they're not sticky at all."

I watched as she raised her foot up on top of her other leg; the sounds those pants made as she did were out of this world. She peeled back the fabric around her ankle, and prompted me to feel the incredibly soft inner lining that undoubtedly would have made the pants extremely comfortable overall. The pants squeaked and squelched some more as she placed her foot back on the floor.

"I'm surprised how loud they are," I said.

"I know. I'm half expecting to get called to the office and lectured about how much of a distraction they are," Maria laughed.

I asked about where she found them, and said she saw them online while shopping for other pants, and thought they would be a good statement piece and gave them a shot. It was certainly worth it. By the time school let out for the day, I was sold on those pants. I had to find some of my own.

As soon as I got home from school that day, I did exactly what I said I was going to do; I said fuck my homework, and hopped on my laptop to do the homework I wanted; that being looking up PVC pants and buying a pair for myself. Unfortunately, that particular task also came with its own set of caveats. To start with, even if I did get a pair, there was no way I could ever be seen wearing them in my parents' presence. They were rather conservative people; it wasn't exactly religiously motivated, I don't think - we would go to church a few times a year, but they would hardly consider themselves religious - they just had a very old fashioned upbringing that carried over to me. It was seen as indecent to them for women to expose too much skin or dress in any way that could be perceived as slutty, or promiscuous. Unfortunately, those PVC pants would likely be seen as exactly that; I know because I was out shopping with my mom one weekend a while prior, and when I expressed interest in a nice looking leather dress, my mom said it was "hardly appropriate for a teenager to wear." That being said, something tighter and shinier would definitely be out of the question.

As I searched for the shiny, plasticky pants I now so desperately wanted, I discovered that there were, in fact, more than a few articles of clothing made of the stuff: Pants, dresses, skirts, tops, leggings, whole catsuits... and in all different colors. I wanted them all. As that proved to be unfeasible, I settled on a pair of leggings - in black, of course - and placed them in my cart along with a few other "normal" items that were cute and relatively inexpensive; I figured on the extremely rare chance that either of my parents asked to see what I bought, I would at least have something legit to show them. Once I had everything ordered and paid for, it was just a matter of waiting for their arrival.

The day I got the email that my stuff had arrived was a difficult one. I was sitting in my English classroom during passing time, waiting for class to start when my phone buzzed with a notification telling me my package was delivered. Including English, I had three classes left in my day, and I couldn't concentrate on any of them; all I could think about was getting home so I could tear into my box and try on my new shiny leggings.

When I finally got home, I found that my mom was kind enough to bring the box in for me.

"You have a package here, Ansley," she said.

"Thanks, Mom."

"What did you buy this time?"

"Just some more clothes."

"Of course you did," my mom concluded with a bit of sass. At least it wasn't unusual for me to buy clothes online, so it wasn't much of a surprise to her.

Conveniently for me, my parents were going grocery shopping that night, I knew I had at least two hours to enjoy my new purchase before they got home. I waited on the couch for them to depart for their trip, watching TV, and politely declined their invitation to go with them as I usually did, even though they would probably forget something I asked for because of it, but it was worth it this time. As soon as I saw the SUV exit the driveway down the road, I raced over to my room and tore into the box.

I tried on the three "normal" pieces I bought first; I figured I'd try them on and make sure they fit properly, and make myself work toward the fun stuff, and when I got to the good stuff, I was in heaven. I pulled the leggings out of the plastic packaging. I removed the tissue paper wrapped around them, and let them unfold in front of me. The sound the sticky material made as they unfolded was amazing. I immediately pulled off my skinny jeans and pulled the leggings on. They were a bit tighter than I expected, although it seemed to mostly be because the PVC was much less stretchy than the spandex based leggings I was used to. They hugged my legs so tightly, and the looked so good. They felt good. I knew it was going to be hard to have to take them off when my parents got home. They quickly became my new favorite piece, and I wore them every time I had a chance. I was lucky enough to have a few opportunities to wear them out, which I gladly did, and reveled in the pleasure of seeing heads turn as I walked by with my shiny, squeaky pants on.

By now, you're probably thinking to yourself, "oh, Ansley, that's a great story and all, but where does the latex come in?" Well, it comes in right now, because it was shortly after I gained my PVC leggings that it first crossed my radar properly.

I remember sitting in the living room one night with my parents, watching one of those late night talk shows. There was a celebrity guest that came on, like there always is, I don't remember who it was, but I remember her outfit very well. She was wearing an extremely shiny, tight dress. I couldn't quite make out what it was made of, it was shiny, like my PVC leggings, but it just looked... different; I couldn't quite place a finger on what made it so different, but it just didn't look quite the same as PVC, and it wasn't leather. The image stuck with me for quite a while, I tried to riddle out what it was and had no luck, and because I didn't know the name of the celebrity, I couldn't find it that way either. I guess I could have just googled the information, but at the time, I didn't think about it.

A few weeks of pondering it later, I found my answer. While scrolling through my social media, an article popped up on my feed relating to Katy Perry and her obsession with latex outfits. There was my answer; I looked at a couple pictures on the article and immediately recognized what I saw on the celebrity from a few weeks prior. It was then that I realized I had to try it. I didn't know exactly what I would have expected from it, but for the first time in my life, the idea of wearing tight, rubber clothes crossed my mind, and with my discovery of those tight, rubber clothes came a slew of new questions: What did it feel like? Would it smell weird? Was it sticky or slippery? Would it even be comfortable?