Chapter 10

Most people don't like a person to change. They compliment someone for 'being himself.' But isn't that peculiar? When do you reach that 'self' stage? On turning ten? Twenty? Fifty-four? And why would it be a good thing to always stay unchanged?

Lying face down on the massage table, Juliana felt how liquid thoughts flew in and out of her head, in time with the hands that kneaded her shoulders. 'Life is good' was one nice thought rolling in. 'Can't go on like this' was quite another. 'Mmmmm, yesss... ' was hardly a thought at all. But 'What after he wakes up?' was a question to skirt the worries of reality.

Juliana realized things were shifting. And as they shifted, a lot of important things became ... less so? Well, no. They stayed important of course – of course they did. Things like loving your husband, having a house, friends, a job, being together, feeling healthy, being good. Oh yes, they were important still, but why did they feel ... different?

The massaging hands dissolved another knot in her back, radiating warmth into her muscles. 'Life is good, ' was a pleasant thought – 'I should never give this up' too. 'But Alec... '

Juliana must have drifted off on the table. She hardly noticed being turned over to have her front massaged. She even slept through a mild little string of orgasms when Mei rubbed and fondled her nipples and the lips of her vagina.

Juliana felt great when she got up from the table – rested and full of energy, her body gleaming with oil.

"Doctor want see you," Mei said. "He say you make self sexy beautiful."

Juliana was amazed to find on her bed the simple summer dress she'd worn when she first came to the villa. There also was a set of plain white cotton underwear and a pair of flat-heeled mary janes. Next to the clothes lay her old purse. Her heart raced when she put the clothes on. She walked over to her mirror and froze.

How to describe disappointment? Maybe the image of a balloon helps – not the ones that go with a bang, but the ones that deflate slowly, and with a fart.

Juliana looked at herself and saw a mouse. The flower-printed dress hung around her body. The skirt ended on her knees. And the shoes were almost too painful to even look at.

Embarrassed Juliana recalled how she'd chosen this very outfit to impress Dr. Charrier on the day she arrived. That had been only – had it really? – a fortnight ago. She sighed and opened four buttons of the dress. Watching how the crude white bra spoiled her cleavage, she took it off and let the dress's opening plunge to her navel. Then she lifted the hem of the skirt halfway up to her crotch, tightening it over her thighs. She slowly turned left and right. Maybe she didn't score points with her bust, but her legs were better than most she'd seen here – and so was her ass. Then she heard a soft giggle behind her.

Mei held up a narrow silver belt. From behind she girded Juliana's hips with it and pulled the dress up through it. The upper part billowed partly over the lower very short skirt. The cleavage gapped wide, showing off her gleaming chest. "Better," Mei said. She took Juliana by the elbow and walked her over to her vanity.

"You do face. I get heels," Mei said, leaving.

Juliana started making up her face, using all the tricks she'd learned. Winking with one smoky eye, she painted her lips as red as Sophia's, adding clever lines to make them look bigger. Then she did her fingernails in the same shade.

"Hi Juh-lee-ah-naaaah," she breathed at herself, fluttering her fat lashes. "Don't worry, baby; you'll blow them all away." And she giggled, breathless from her own courage.

Juliana never walked in higher heels than the ones Mei provided. She liked the sound they made on the stone floor as she followed the corridors to the lounge where she had her appointment with Charrier. She also liked the way the heels pushed up her calves and her ass with every step. Mei had done a trick on the skirt. It made the lower piece stretch tight around her upper legs, obliging her to take small steps. The platform pumps wouldn't have allowed bigger ones anyway.

Dr. Charrier waited for her by the empty fireplace, drinking coffee from an espresso cup that seemed tiny in his big hands. Seeing her, his eyes lit up. He put down the cup and rose to greet her. His gaze travelled up and down her body.

"You keep amazing me, Mrs. Austin," he said, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips. Then he led her to one of the overstuffed club chairs. She carefully sat down, keeping the skirt from creeping up even further. Mei had replaced the big granny panties with a tiny thong.

"Coffee?" the doctor asked. She declined. He smiled, sitting down in his chair.

"We woke up your husband," he said.

She felt shocked. She shouldn't, really – the news was expected, wasn't it? And yet there was shock. It was like having a child: nine months in the making and yet there is this shock when finally the waters break. Maybe it's the sudden confrontation with the absoluteness of reality. Juliana's heart raced.

"How ... how is he?" she asked after clearing her throat.

"He is fine, considering," the doctor said. "He has been asking for you." He had been asking ... had she even thought of him, lately?

Juliana sat straighter in her chair, sliding to the seat's edge. Her hands went to her chest, closing a button – and then another.

"Can I... ," she said. "Can I see him?"

"Of course," Dr. Charrier said, smiling as he watched her fumbling fingers. "Let's go."

Turmoil raged in Juliana's head when they rose. She'd rehearsed for this moment, seen it in her dreams. But reality was quite different. Standing on her towering platforms she pulled at her skirt.

"Could I... ?" she started. "Could I just run and change? I mean..."

"Come," the doctor said, urging her on. "No time for that. Besides, you look lovely; no need to let him wait any longer."

The clicking of her heels sounded blatant now, as they walked over to the clinic. The draught on her exposed skin made her close yet another button. In passing she checked her face in a mirror – the painted eyes, the full red lips, the bare legs. Alec had never seen her like this; what would he think? Why did she choose this look? And why did she now think she shouldn't look like that – not for him?

When they arrived at the entrance to the clinic, Juliana once more tucked at her skirt.

Alec was sitting up in bed. The tubes and the beep-machines were still there, but a smaller pad on the side of his head replaced the turban of bandages. He looked pale and bony. His head had been shaved, making him seem at once older and younger – a mature child. His soft brown eyes widened when she entered. A smile stretched his lips, but it danced and fluttered as if not knowing whether to stay of leave.

"Juliana," he said, almost adding a question mark.

"Alec!" she cried out, rushing towards him on shrieking heels. "You're awake!" And she reached out to embrace him.

Alec felt stiff in her embrace. She kissed him, but his lips kept closed. She let go, pulling back her head. Looking into his eyes, she heard her own agitated breathing.

"You look... ," Alec began, his eyes shifting. "You look so..." A wave of self-consciousness hit Juliana. Standing straight she gathered the still open top of her dress, feeling a flush of heat.

"Sorry," she said. "You don't like..." He rubbed his face.

"It's all right, I suppose," he said, settling his smile more permanently. "As long as you're here." Juliana sat down in the chair next to the bed. Alec found her hands and held them in his.

"You are all right, aren't you?" he asked. Juliana swallowed, trying to calm her nerves.

"I am fine," she insisted, forcing her smile to be wider. "But this is about you. I'm amazed. You look so much better!"

Juliana knew she babbled. How could he not look better than before, when he was in a coma? Her hands felt moist as she fumbled inside his grip.

"Yes," he said. "I do feel ... good. Doctors are very optimistic. I still feel confused, though – a bit dizzy too." He smiled. "But you ... You look so different. The way you ... Did you manage while I was ... away?"

His voice hadn't changed, Juliana thought. There was sweetness in it, and real concern. She laughed, but it didn't sound right.

"Don't you worry about me," she said, patting his hand. "I'm a big girl, you know. I'll survive." She knew her words came too fast, but she could not stop or slow them down.

"You get better," she went on. "Never mind about me. I'm good. Get better soon and I'll take you home. Everything will be fine ... fine." She giggled. Alec didn't let go of her eyes, and it bothered her.

His hand went to her hair and then to her face.

"Your eyes," he said. "Your lips."

Ever since they married, being together had been easy for them, although they were poor, hardly able to pay their rent. But they'd learned to enjoy small things whenever they could afford them, like movies, music, food – and little exotic things that were firsts for the both of them. They'd found an apartment and furnished it – often with old things, used things, but things they'd found together. They'd built a secure little life, and everything came naturally. Using half a word or hinting at a memory could make them laugh. Just holding each other while watching a movie had been enough.

Not anymore, it seemed.

Now, there was this ... tension, and there was guilt. Juliana wondered why. She'd done what she did only for him, to save his life. And yet it was hard to hold his gaze. Did he always look this ... innocent? A nagging feeling entered Juliana's mind – an irritation. Why would he be the innocent? And if he was, why did it feel so ... accusing? Why did he accuse her with his innocence? He'd had the easy part, hadn't he – just lying around being fed and sleeping and costing huge amounts of money? She'd been the one to do all the work, to provide the money, hadn't she?

"What?!" Juliana asked. There was an edge to her voice. His eyes fluttered. He lifted his hands as if to protect himself against her aggression.

"Wow," he said.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I only wanted to be beautiful for you." She reached for his face and kissed him.

Dr. Charrier had left them when Juliana arrived at Alec's room. Now he returned, all smiles.

"I'm sorry, but I have to break this lovely thing up, my little turtle doves," he boomed, taking Juliana's hand and making her rise. "Mr. Austin is doing extremely well, but he needs his rest, honey. Excitement isn't good, especially induced by you."

Alec turned his head from his wife to the doctor and back, frowning at the endearment. Only now did he see the whore-hooves on Juliana's feet, and the endless stretches of toned leg rising up from them. But before he could say anything, Charrier spirited her away, his arm around her waist – his hand on her tightly packed ass cheek.

Juliana lay awake. Her body ached. Her vagina throbbed; so did her anus. After leaving her husband Dr. Charrier had asked her how she felt. She hadn't told him the truth. She'd just raved on about how thankful she was, and how wonderful it had been to see her husband being so much better. Charrier had chuckled, pinching her buttock as they walked down the corridors.

"Don't lie to me, Mrs. Austin," he said. "I always know when you lie." His meaty hand slapped her ass, making her squeal.

"Tonight a good friend of mine wants to sample you," he said when they arrived at her quarters. "He has special wishes, though. Now go to your room and relax – you'll be picked up around five this afternoon."

Of course Juliana didn't relax. She sat and stood and walked around, her mind bursting with images and thoughts. The images were of her husband, his innocent eyes – the ... distance she'd felt. The thoughts were about why she'd felt such a blind rage against that same accusing innocence – doubting it, feeling irritated by it.

And then there was the sheer conflict of having to perform with another man, right after seeing her husband.

She went out to go punish her body at the gym. When she returned, she took a long shower, shaved herself meticulously and lathered her skin with lotion.

On her bed was an outfit she'd never seen before. More precisely: she didn't even know what it was.

"Is latex; is sexy," Mei said. Juliana hadn't seen her come in. She picked up a piece. The blue material was very thin and rubbery. Next to it was a container filled with white powder. She saw no underwear.

"Sit on bed," Mei said. "I put powder on. Feet and legs first."

The powder felt cool on her shaven skin. Mei knelt and pulled one rubber stocking-foot over her right toes. It closed tightly around her ankle. Then she did the other foot.

"Stand now," she said, and pulled the very tight rubber over her calves and knees; then up her thighs where they stopped. Pulling and rubbing she smoothed out the shining material. Then she powdered Juliana's crotch and hips, and made her step into an equally blue latex garter belt with dangling elastic garters she snapped on to the stocking-tops.

A blue bra-like top slipped over her powdered chest, pressing her breasts into a modest cleavage. A heady mixture of sweet talcum powder and latex intoxicated her.

"My God, this is hot!" Juliana exclaimed. Mei chuckled, misunderstanding the kind of hot Juliana meant.

"Very hot," she agreed, holding up a transparent, yellowish dress. Or was it a dress? It looked tiny, like a child's, with frills around its collar and girly-type puffed short sleeves.

Pulling it down over Juliana's head and shoulders, it almost took her breath away with its tightness. The skirt needed some stretching to reach past her ass cheeks and crotch.

"Beautiful!" Mei said, turning her left and right. "Now we do make up." Juliana understood there would be no panties. She walked over, moving awkwardly inside the tight latex, feeling it rub and hearing it squeak. Then she sat down in front of her vanity and watched Mei do her face like a child might have done – way too much eye shadow in bright blue colors, exaggerated blushes and lips like cherries.

"Sweet," Mei said. "Now hair."

When her taxi came, Juliana waited on sky-high heels that closed with straps over her rubber-clad ankles. Her hair stood out in very short pigtails, and a big purple latex cape mercifully covered her body. She sweated, and felt like a carnival attraction.

The address was a high-class penthouse, looking out over the lake and the city. Before she was up there, however, she had to walk lengths of marble, click-clacking past a frowning concierge. An acne-faced liftboy looked her over in the mirrored elevator.

The apartment was huge, and posh in a smoked-glass-and-shiny-brass way. There were white leather couches on a hardwood floor. People stood around drinking. The men wore Italian suits; the women were all young and wrapped in latex like Juliana. One even had a tight rubber cap on, with a mask that wrapped all around her head.

"Welcome," a thirtyish man said, smiling wide. "Let me get this amazing cape off you and get you introduced."

Juliana felt the weird sensation of being at once tightly dressed and still widely exposed. As she was led around she smelled the sickly sweet mixture of talcum powder, latex and perfume wherever she turned. All the women's faces were heavily painted. Their bodies shone with red, green, blue and purple rubber. The masked girl was in black latex from the top of her skull to the platforms of her shoes – but her breasts were exposed, as were her ample ass cheeks.

The women kept their distance while introduced. Juliana heard names like Kelli and Barbie; she herself was presented as Julee. Melinda was there too, her huge round breasts wrapped in gleaming red latex and her crotch hardly concealed by a thong of the same material. 'Melli' she called herself here, smiling a dazzling welcome.

"So nice to see you here, Julee," she said. "You look amaaazing!" She giggled; it made her balloons jiggle inside their flimsy rubber cages.

The men were of the slick-haired kind, closely shaven. They were rude in their comments and exuded too much aftershave. They also had no concept of comfort zones as far as Juliana was concerned. She was hugged and kissed, and she felt hands everywhere, even on her unprotected vagina. It should make her blush, but she wasn't sure, feeling the sweaty heat of the latex all over.

A girl in a maid's uniform handed her a glass of bubbly wine. Over her shoulder Juliana saw how the rubber masked girl hung head-down over a man's knees. His hand rose and landed on her exposed behind, making loud slapping noises. The girl cried out at each blow, to the laughter of two men watching. They both had their arms around a girl they were fondling. One, in a blue latex dress that left her entire ass and thighs exposed, sank to her knees and started opening her man's fly. The second man pushed down on the shoulders of his companion to make her kneel too.