The doorbell rang, you dived for it at full speed.

Stood there was a bike courier, anonymous in their black riders clothes and the full visored helmet, they thrust a rectangular parcel at you to check the address. You agreed it was for you, signed their clip board and rushed back into the room.

The seals were secure but a sharp knife and the box was soon open. Inside was a blue latex item as expected, but heavy, you unwrapped it and realised it was a waist cinching corset, the weight from the large amount of boning.

You stripped down to the other other items, items you had barely removed for the last week. and unfolded the corset, working out what was front and back before wrapping it around you. To get the front zipper/.................................................................................. to meet was a strain, but you finally managed before looking in the mirror. A decidedly feminine torso in blue looked back, the line just reaching the bra at the top and the panties at the bottom.

You shiver, it is like being held in a bearhug all the time.

You move around your flat, slowly at first as you adjust to the new lack of flexibility but soon you are prancing around enjoying your new finery. Then you realise something, as it got warm on your body it tightened, just a little. You love the feel, and never want to remove it. But you do, sometimes the real world intrudes and this shapely form would not be appropriate. That and with the new narrowed waist your trousers keep falling down, you need a size smaller or elasticated waists!

You found no note this time which seemed odd, but the following week a package dropped through the door like clockwork.

You tear it open and find two pieces of the thin latex, with fingers, gloves, long gloves, and a note. 'Welcome to part 4, gloves' was all it said.

'Oh my world.' You think, but for once you do not rush to dress. This time you make yourself wait, the anticipation playing its part so that when you do wash the panties and bra and make use of their special talent, and dry them so carefully, inhaling the wet latex odour that has become your Mistress.

You dress slowly, deliberately and carefully, taking your time and savouring the feel, the smell and the look of your new lingerie. Finally you slide on the new gloves, they fit, well, 'like a glove', and now, what ever you touch, has that latex feel, your coffee cup, the table, the light switch, now all feel like caressing latex. And the frissom as you run your hand over the corset and stockings are divine, if you could bottle it you would make a fortune.

You look at yourself in the mirror, and something is different (well a lot of things are different but you know what I mean). The corset you are sure is tighter, not a lot but a little, and your breasts are bigger, again not a lot but just a little. You sit down and the nub definitely presses further in.

'How can this be?' You think, before deciding 'to hell with it, go with the flow!'