Towering columns of Cumulo Nimbus, shone bronzed in the suns last gleam, as far below in the chasm of streets ruled the pale twilight of even’, and in her office eyrie, on the twenty seventh floor Sarah sat and thought of her life and love and wondered what it was all for.

Sarah looked in the mirror, she had long ago stopped worrying about roots, her hair was now its natural straw blonde, which looked odd when she wore her black boots, her necklace of pearls was wrapped tightly, like a collar, tight round her neck, and her red top didn’t match her blue sports skirt, but she merely thought, what the heck.

Slow unadventurous Sarah, her portfolio growth was so slow, yet in the deep depths of depression, those small profits continued to flow, and while all around her were leaving, as their ledgers dipped into the red, so Sarah found herself top trader and others followed where she had led.

Sarah looked again at her wristwatch, surely it could not be ten, those long light summer evenings in England, far too late now for dinner with friends, she thought about various boyfriends, but when she looked in her contacts, she realised she’d reached a dead end.

Marcus just wanted her money, her image, approval, prestige, they once shared an apartment briefly, until she told him to leave, Victor just used her for finance, for access to funds for his scams, so she kept him at arms length at present, until she had firmed up her plans. and Adrian and Shawn and of course Ronan, and Geoffrey and Aled and Pete, and there was that crack head called Trevor, she thanked heaven that he’d been discrete

The elevator descended so swiftly, she arrived at ground floor before she knew, and before she had made her mind up, or decided where she should go to.

Friday evening, the weekend was well underway as she made her way to the Tube station, rode the escalator and waited for the train, which whooshed from the tunnel creating its own winds which blew the litter around the unkempt platforms, she hung from a strap by the doorway, eschewing the use of hard seats, despite the near empty carriage, she preferred to remain on her feet.

“This train terminates here due to a points failure,.” the tannoy boomed, Sarah groaned Picadilly Circus, she dreaded these delays but decided to take a cab instead of changing trains, mother had probably given up hope of seeing her and by the time she got home and got the car it would be midnight before she got to her father’s place,

She walked slowly towards the escalators, past the alcove where buskers sometimes lurked and on up through the concourse to street level, theatre goers thronged the area below the great neon signs, moving on towards night clubs or other entertainment, thronging the roads slowing traffic to a crawl, the Taxis all seemed full so she walked briskly taking a quick short cut down a back street.

Models, said the neon sign, flashing green then red, peep show, a seedy bar, then a restaurant, her pace slowed, all around people seemingly enjoying themselves, smiling trying to entice men into dingy dungeons to buy cheap champagne at a hundred pounds a bottle and more, Sarah caught sight of herself in a shop window, the shop bay fronted with the doorway inset, her camel coloured coat, red top and blue skirt contrasted bizarrely with her black boots, she looked hard and long, and saw herself as perhaps others saw her, undisciplined, uncoordinated, she didn’t remember choosing what to wear, only the Rhyder account, she remembered the percentage profits but not why she had worn the red with the blue, except they were comfortable.

“Beautiful, isn’t she,” a soft feminine voice spoke close to Sarah’s ear.

“What?” Sarah said turning in surprise

“The mannequin, I thought, you were admiring the dress.” the woman continued, Sarah looked at her, older, early thirties probably with a pale skin, and a pleasant smile,

“Oh, yes she is rather stunning,” Sarah agreed, seeing for the first time how the deep cleavage of the light blue dress emphasised the mannequins charms as the smooth rubber gleamed in the lamplight.

“Latex is so easy to clean too, is that the sort of thing you were looking for or could I interest you in anything else.” the woman asked as she stood by Sarah holding the shop door open as she spoke.

Sarah looked more closely, everything appeared to be latex or rubber, the inevitable naughty nurse and naughty nun outfits were well to the rear of the display which gave pride of place the formal dresses and skirts even a full body suit which resembled a divers suit except for the many additional zips, and again displayed discretely matching panties and bra sets .corsets, hoods, gloves and myriad other latex items.

“Why don’t you have a look round,” she suggested, “I’m Martha by the way, there’s no obligation.”

Rubber, latex in pastel shades, Sarah was intrigued, “Yes, thank you,” she replied and as Martha stepped sideways so Sarah stepped through the narrow doorway and on into the shop, it was more spacious than Sarah expected a girl stood behind the glass topped counter, at first glance dressed in black latex but no it was leather, a black leather jacket, white tee shirt, and blue jeans, “We have a wide range” Martha suggested,”The dress you were looking at is up here,” she added, pointing to where the floor stepped up gradually towards the rear of the store, “I think we have your size,” you can try it if you wish, the changing rooms are through here.

“Try it?” Sarah asked, feeling foolish, she had after all only been looking at her own reflection.

“If you like, do you like the blue, or perhaps you like this?” Martha asked reaching for one in deep burgundy.

“No the blue looks cool, really, ah I mean cool not cool if you see what I mean!” Sarah gushed in embarrassment.

“Would you like, to,” Martha asked, “No obligation.”

Sarah did not reply but followed Martha through the fitting room door, the room seemed curiously spacious, with a door the far side, “Keep the bolt across,” Martha suggested, and she handed Sarah not only the blue dress but also matching blue latex panties and a bra. “Bolt the door behind me!” she suggested.

Sarah felt very foolish, she wondered how on earth she had arrived in a fitting room with a fetish dress to try on when she was only really intending to go home.

The door bolts looked substantial enough, but there seemed to be nowhere to hang her own clothes, despite almost all the wall space being given over to lockers which all seemed to be closed and securely locked,

Sarah opened the door again and called quietly “Excuse me.”

Martha smiles, “Yes,”

“Is there a hanger?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll find a locker ah.” Martha replied, “This one’s free,” she announced and a varnished wood locker door swung open revealing a short rail with clothes hangers, “Allow me,” she said, as she took Sarah’s new dress and laid it down on the shelf, “It won’t lock,” Sarah assured her “unless you punch in the number,” she lifted a flap in the floor of the locker “I should put your handbag in here,” she suggested and then she was gone

Sarah bolted the door, and looked at the clothes laid out, she slipped off her jacket,laying it on the shelf, then the skirt and top, and realising it would look bizarre with her bra she laid that on the pile, too, while she tried the latex brassiere, it felt cold and clammy on her skin but somehow exciting and she was glad the tops of the cups were soft enough to adapt to her shape as her nipples stiffened, then she tried the dress, so soft so elegant, and as she admired herself in the huge mirror she saw her tights and cotton panties spoiled the illusion.

In seconds she had slipped tights and panties down and slipped them into her handbag, and then she pulled up the cool tight fitting latex panties and again she admired herself, and thought of Geoffrey, yes Geoffrey would certainly approve, but when she looked down her boots looked ridiculous, and she went out to seek something more suitable.

“Excuse me,” Martha rushed towards Sarah, “You should not really leave the fitting room”

“I wanted some shoes.” Sarah explained.

“Six,” Martha asked, “Size six?”

“Oh, yes, me and my big feet!” Sarah exclaimed.

“To match, blue,” Martha muttered, “these, “Martha suggested.

Sarah looked at the skeletal stiletto heeled creations in a matching but darker shade of blue, “I don’t know about those heels.”

“We’ll, go back in the dressing room and try them there.” Martha suggested.

Sarah smiled at Martha, “yes of course.” she agreed and as they walked towards the Dressing room once more she continued, “It’s absolutely ages since I wore anything like those.”

Walking was not easy, in fact Sarah needed Martha’s guidance for those first few faltering steps a steadying hand.

“So, do we have a sale?”Martha asked as Sarah admired herself in the mirror, the gentle curves, the lack of sharp creases and that wonderful warm rubbery comforting feel of the latex.

Sarah’s reply was the one Martha hoped to hear, “But where would I wear it?”

“Oh there are clubs and.” Martha began.

“Clubs?” Sarah wondered if she had heard right, “Where?”

“Here,” Martha explained.

“In Soho?” Sarah enquired

“Literally here,” Sarah explained, “thats why we’re called “The Portal” the club is beyond those doors, these are the changing rooms, that’s why w have all the lockers for storage.”

“Can I” Sarah asked.

“See, No,” Martha explained, “Join, well you need to make a purchase and then there is a ten day cooling off period if you pay by credit card, and we need to vet you, but yes.”

“Yes, what?” Sarah asked.

“I will sponsor you, you can buy this outfit for two hundred and eight pounds, and then there is a twenty five pound initial trial period fee for three months and either a thousand pound flat rate per year or fifty pounds per visit thereafter.”

“Why the differential?” Sarah asked as it appeared to defy business logic.

“To get you hooked, of course, so how does two hundred and thirty pounds sound to get you started.?”

“I don’t know.” Sarah said.

“Go away and think,” Martha suggested, “I can keep these here for you.”

“No, but can I leave my things here?” Sarah asked.

“Certainly, if you get changed I’ll sort out the bill and you can be on your way.”

Martha walked briskly away, and Sarah bolted the door behind her before sadly removing the latex gown and laying it down on the shelf and dressing in her own street clothing, she let herself out of the changing room and took her new latex underwear to the front counter and paid on her Visa card, and walked out into the Capitals sodium twilight, and away home.

Part 2

Sarah woke early next morning, somehow refreshed, she usually tossed and turned worrying about work but today she felt different, comforted secure, she realised she was wearing just the blue latex panties and bra she bought yesterday, and sadly reflected she would have to wear ordinary cotton or silk underwear, why had she not bought more she asked herself.

She showered and dressed, and despite her habit of not rising until noon on Saturday she was at the tube station by nine fifteen and at “The Portal” at five to ten, but the doors remained shut, the lights extinguished and signs of movement absent.