Aiko by Metilanato

Aiko by Metilanato

Archived Version of the original

Aiko has to do her homework, but she does it in a very particular way: in silence, in her room, listening to music, sealed in plastic and rubber, gagged, covered by a suffocating rigid mask and locked with a padlock.

As usual, the girl arrived in the driveway before her mother could go to work, having so it’s time to say goodbye. They lived in a residential neighbourhood on the outskirts of the big city, fortunately well served by both public transport and communications to reach the city, one of the great American metropolises. The neighbourhood resembled those glimpses from 1950s films, with houses all the same, the front garden with the driveway that led to the house and the garage, a private garden at the back and the small two-storey house, freshly painted and with the garden mowed to perfection. Her mother, about forty years old, smiled at her and interrupted the woman’s speech for a second in front of her, on the other side of the white wooden fence. Margaret, known as Margie, Taylor was the classic over-fifty neighbour with a life so empty that she had to be sure to spend all her time observing other people’s lives and, in particular, theirs. Or at least that’s what Aiko thought.

“Oh, Aiko, I was telling your mother that you really are a wonderful girl. I know you do well in school and that when you’re home alone, I can’t hear anything coming from inside. I can’t hear you, or your music or other noises. You are truly perfect neighbours.”
“Thank you, Miss Taylor.” The girl smiled, clearly with oriental features, but mixed with western ones, given that she sported a blonde head of wavy hair and sky-blue eyes, unlike her mother, completely Japanese, both in appearance and sometimes also in manners, although born in America. Perfect neighbours? Of course, now, but still, the seventeen-year-old girl remembered perfectly when they moved into that house. The dark looks and rumours spread for months by that woman just because they didn’t have a man, a husband, in her house. She smiled even though she wanted to make a different expression having heard what she had said. “Mom, this is one of those days when your boss wants you all late at work, or am I wrong?”
“Yes, my dear…” sighed the woman, dressed in a dark blue suit, low-heeled shoes and her long black hair styled like a bun. “I think it will be impossible for me to get home before midnight…” she told her with a sad smile.
Her mother, Kaede Ishimura, worked as an accountant in a large Japanese company that had opened a branch in America years earlier. Since she was able to speak both languages perfectly, and being excellent at her job, she was hired right away, but occasionally, they all had to stay late to complete jobs or have meetings with the parent company.
“No problem, Mom. I’ll finish studying, then I’ll watch a movie and go to bed as usual.”
“Don’t Miss Taylor, need to stop by and see how you’re doing? You know that’s no problem for her.”
“I know, but really, you shouldn’t worry, I’m almost an adult now and I can handle myself. No problem really.” she replied smiling, while she thought that in this way the neighbour would lose yet another opportunity to interfere in their affairs. “Mom, I’m seventeen! I’m not a little girl…” she smiled.
“Yes, it’s true. Well, I’d better go. See you, Mrs. Taylor. See you, my love.”
“Bye mom!” she said, waving at her until the woman left in the car, a relatively recent family member, then the girl entered the house, put her backpack just inside the door, took off her shoes, leaving only her socks on the parquet floor, and he went to the kitchen to eat something quickly.
After devouring the ham and cheese sandwich with salad and mayonnaise she had prepared, she moved to the bathroom to wash her hands and change clothes, putting the Japanese-style private school uniform, one of the benefits of her mother’s company, in the washing machine. The school always demanded perfect cleanliness and order. Aiko didn’t mind it, on the contrary. She had multiple identical uniforms, so that every day she wore a clean one while the others dried.
“I don’t need it until tomorrow.” She smiled at her reflection in her mirror.

In addition to her face, which showed only some of the peculiarities of Japanese girls, her body also showed that she had had a Western father. Her body was small, but busty in her own way. Her breasts slightly pushed out the pink cotton bra that matched her panties. She still had short white socks on her feet, but she took them off immediately. She looked at herself in the mirror again and put her underwear in the washing machine too, remaining completely naked, noticing with a small smile that her vagina was still perfectly shaved, not showing any hair or regrowth, thanks to the cream she had already used for over a week before. The thought of what she would do in a few minutes made all her nerves tingle, concentrating on the sensation just above her vagina, while her clitoris almost seemed to pulsate, and she felt her labia getting wet with excitement.  

“I know I do this every day, but today… An entire afternoon and evening. I’ve been waiting for this moment…” she sighed, moving into her room. “I wonder what Mrs. Taylor would think if she really knew why I’m always so quiet. She’d probably be so shocked that for once she wouldn’t have anything to say.” She giggled as she finished loading the washer with the rest of the laundry and detergent and starting it.
She moved up the stairs, still naked, to the door of her room, the first on the right in the hallway. It seemed more suited to a ten or twelve-year-old girl than a young woman. But it was her room and she liked it that way. With posters of some manga heroines and in general, a simple and childish style, with lots of white and pink. But hidden in that sappy room was an area that showed Aiko’s true nature. Down in the closet, inside a cardboard box were some old clothes, but under the thin layer of sweaters and leggings, there was a wooden box, carved as if it contained something precious.
“And it is actually my most precious object.” she thought, opening the box after placing it on the bed. The weight wasn’t excessive, but it definitely wasn’t empty. Inside was a strangely shiny dress and other objects that one would hardly have thought possible in that room, or in any room of a girl not yet of age. One by one, as if during a ritual, she took the objects and clothing and placed them on the bed. One close to the other, observing them smiling, the sensations she had felt in the bathroom returned, exacerbated by the physical presence of the garment and the rest. “I bought it a year ago and since that day I have used it every day if my mother is not at home. I fell in love with it when I saw it in a photo, and then I tried for months to understand what it was and where I could get it and finally, I managed to find it, order it without my mother knowing anything and then one day it finally arrived, perfect as it still is now. I wanted it, it was such a strong sensation that at times it almost seemed painful, it seemed to hurt not to have it in my hands. Maybe I’m weird, maybe I’m a pervert, but I like to be one, if it makes me feel good, and I don’t hurt anyone or hurt anyone”, she thought, caressing the soft transparent vinyl tights, the first item she should and wanted to wear.

Aiko picked up the object, light and oily to the touch, though there was no lubricating substance or anything else present. Gently and steadily, encountering light friction from the material against her smooth, pale skin, she slipped her toes and legs inside the nearly millimetre-thick plastic, stroking her limbs to remove any trapped air between the hot skin and the suffocating material. She had exchanged a fair number of emails with the supplier to figure out how to make the dress exactly how she wanted, without being too restrictive for her, considering the amount of time she would be wearing it, but after a few false starts she realized that she could buy a size smaller than necessary to have the right compression and the right difficulty of movement when the material would have begun to adhere to the skin with the sweat that would surely have formed shortly thereafter thanks to such a tight, waterproof material and warm.
She grabbed them after they covered both her legs up to her knees, gently pushed the rest of the pantihose towards their final position with both hands, covering her thighs and then her hips, the smooth fabric adhering softly to her labia, highlighting them. The light ran and played on them with every movement, sealing them and at the same time highlighting them, just opened, shiny and wet, certainly not from sweat but from her excitement. She touched her vagina for only two seconds, a quick move that brought her fingers to her clit and then down, to savour the heat already warming the plastic to her crotch. She bit her lips to keep from moaning excessively, lost in her sensations, for a moment unsure if she could continue, as excited as she was.
“No, not now. I have to hold back, I can’t afford to do this now. I have to wait, I have to be a good girl…” she smiled, thinking of how much it would be well when the whole costume would be completed.

Next to where the tights were, there was a long-sleeved, turtleneck bodysuit, complete with gloves and a long zipper down the back. With a little more security, as the material was a little thicker and more resistant, Aiko sealed her torso, arms and fingers inside the garment, again in soft transparent vinyl, practically printed on the dimensions of her body and where possible by reducing the measurements such as on the waist so that there were no seams and the material adhered so perfectly that it really was a second skin. The moment she finished zipping it around her neck, the bodysuit, also smaller than necessary, did two things she was eagerly anticipating. Her first was to push the crotch section of her pantihose a little deeper onto her vagina, turning every movement of her legs or torso into a soft caress full of pleasure. The second was to model the waist, thinner by at least two sizes, and the breasts, giving them a perfect shape, thanks to the slight compression of the plastic, which, however, did not change the shapes which became almost exuberant, truly those of a figure of a cartoon.
She moved her gloved fingers over her body and pinched her nipples, locked in small spaces dedicated to them, perfect for making them harden and become extremely sensitive. The simple touch of the plastic and her fingers made them instantly turgid, causing a shiver of pleasure.
“If my mother or my teachers saw me. I’m really a bad student, I can’t continue like this. Maybe if I wore the uniform, it would allow me to be better ?” she asked herself, smiling and looking at the beautifully crafted uniform she had on the bed.
It was composed of a pair of white socks just below the knees, made of rubber at least 1.6 millimetres thick, coordinated with girl’s panties and bra of the same material, thickness, and colour. A pleated skirt in black latex, less thick than stockings, 0.6 mm, knee-length and a black rubber jacket, completed the classic manga-style schoolgirl dress, with also a bright blue ribbon to tie on the front.
She continued to massage her breasts while looking at her dress, starting to pant heavily.
“Wonderful…” she moaned and then breathed as deeply as she could, but she immediately realized that her chest had been robbed of precious centimetres of air, leaving her excited and immediately hyperventilating.

She quickly put on the panties and bra, which snapped into place, the soft shaping on the inside to massage her breasts, the nipples transmitting increasingly stronger sensations, not enough to go beyond strong excitement.
With a little effort, due to her already gloved hands, she put on the socks, printed in such a way as to gently force her ankles into a slightly raised position, as if she was wearing shoes with a small heel, which she did next. They were shoes with 6 cm heels, simple and similar to those that schoolgirls might wear, but instead of a simple lace they had a strong strap that could be blocked by a padlock so they could not be removed.
“Now the dress…” she said to herself, placing the skirt in its place and arranging it, just as she arranged the jacket and zipped it up in front, hiding it then with the small rubber flap that had been added for the purpose. Lastly, she tied the ribbon in a large shiny and beautiful bow, completing her uniform.
She looked at herself in the mirror of her closet and smiled, running her already sweaty hands over her shiny dress and body, then over her face and hair, tasting the bitter and sweet taste of the vinyl, the softness of its new skin without any imperfection.
“So beautiful, so perfect. How my mother wants me. As I want!” she smiled as she finished sucking her finger, savouring the plastic aftertaste, which made her vagina throb even more, certainly wet and not just because of the plastic that wrapped it. “But I have to finish my costume quickly; otherwise I’ll be late with my homework schedule…”

From a small cardboard box inside the wooden box, she took out the last items she would wear. It consisted of a complete hood made of transparent vinyl, a large black soft rubber ball, a small radio connected to two Bluetooth earphones and a heavy rigid mask painted like a beautiful doll, looking every bit like a Japanese schoolgirl, with eyes big but not exaggerated like from a manga. She placed the earphones in her ears, pushing the soft rubber they were made of deep into her sockets until they stuck and cancelled out most of the surrounding sounds. She turned on the radio, set at a fairly high volume, and began to enjoy the classical music they played, all day and all night. Now completely deafened by the violins and pianos, she attached the radio to the hem of her skirt, on her back, and raised the shiny hood. She looked at it, as she did every day, enjoying the fact that the only four openings, aside from the neck opening, were two small nostril tubes, very thick to fit into her actual nostrils like rigid tubes and large enough to give her even if with a little effort, the air necessary to survive, and two holes on the upper sides of the head for the braids that she created with her long hair.
“Say goodbye to the air, Aiko!” she said, engulfing her head with her mask, lining up the tubes inside her nostrils and swallowing the contoured mouthpiece complete with her tongue pocket to obliterate her taste and her speech.
She pushed the neck portion of the mask under the high neck of the vinyl bodysuit until she was sure it fit snugly against her sweaty skin, then snapped it into place around her neck, completely separating her body from the air. Skilfully, despite her gloved hands, Aiko pulled strands of hair from the two holes on top of her head to form the two long pigtails, hiding where the plastic ended, and the hair began with two blue rubber bows the same colour as the bow on her chest. She sucked the shape of her mouth to make sure it was in the correct position, then she grabbed the soft, spongy ball, squeezed it, and pushed the object, which had become almost rigid from the compression, into her mouth. As soon as she removed her gloved fingers, the ball expanded, completely filling her already silent mouth.  She tried to speak, but only faint noises like vibrations reached her ears. She had to make an effort to close her lips completely on the intruder, so she could lift the heavy mask made of a thin layer of stainless steel coated inside with soft, spongy rubber and outside with a ceramic-like plastic paint. She pushed it against her covered face, closed the two halves of it with a subtle noise, enough to let her know that she couldn’t remove it without her key but feeling that it was still big for her liking. She aligned the holes that allowed her to breathe and see through the mask as much as she could, then, satisfied, she tightened the mask as tightly as she could until it remained glued to her head, feeling how the specially constructed structure adapted to her size easily, but at the same time knowing that she could not take it off except with the key. In the end, only the two pigtails were the unsealed part of her, left dangling on the rigid, shiny surface.

“Mmmghtt …” she hummed, touching her gloved fingers to the mask’s smiling lips, hiding her real, tense, already drooling ones.
“Finally, I’m Aiko the student!” she giggled inside the sweaty, hot and suffocating costume, as she sat on the desk and opened her books with almost stiff fingers, starting to study.