Author's Note

Hitomi's POV

Next chapter: Observed while Changing

4 :Enter the Suits: 2

.

"Hitomi, Hitomi; can you help me, I am just ready to try out this fabulous new suit!" I hear my daughter Chihiro, only with Sweetie Belle's voice.

"Yes, but of course; my dear Chihiro!" I respond, as I am raising to my feet and walk towards the door.

On the way, I extend my right hand, lifting it up to the plaque on the right side of the door; only to press the palm down and spread my fingers wide, to make the door open and let me out of the room. Just as I had walked over the threshold, the door quietly closes behind me.

"Squeak, squeak, squeak.." is heard, as I set foot outside my room.

Of course the floor is enjoying the treat of the crystal clear silicon. While it does lend the distinctly squeaking noises, it also makes it impossible to slip on the floor outside the room.

Now I feel the sticky grip, as I continue along the balcony above the living room; as I take to the right, towards the room where Chihiro is waiting for me.

Somehow, the pressure of my feet is making the floor glow; with each step I take, just giving me enough light to see where I am going

I stop, at the end of the balcony; extending my right hand, pressing the palm onto the plaque and spread my fingers. The door slides up and I step right in.

Just as expected, she is already inside. The door of her wardrobe open, as she is pulling the last garment off of her. I quietly watch, as she steps out of her panties; before she is kicking them up, to leave them into the chute.

The door slides shut behind me, quietly.

"Right on time.." she exclaims; "I'm ready to put the ensemble on, with some assistance on your part!" she concludes.

"For you, Chihiro!" I respond; "Always!" I point out.

"I know, Hitomi!" she responds, with a delightful snicker; "Red, or blue?" she inquires, holding up the red in her right hand, and the blue in her left hand.

"Bloody metallic red.." I ponder; "or electric metallic blue?" I continue; "Let me see!" I conclude, as I am weighing the fashionable aspects in my mind.

Naturally, the design of the two pairs of tights is identical; that is after all part of the indecision, in the first place.

Admittedly, both are good or she would not even have either of them in the first place; but right now, the red would go better with her feminine nature. At least, in my eyes.

"Red should be just right for you, today!" I finally suggest.

"Red it is, then!" she points out, as she is putting the blue tights back on its hanger; before she is turning her back on me, as she is about to put the tights on.

Not that she does have any issues with her balance, or that she is shy or does not wish me to see; she just enjoys to have me as support, for the joy of the sensation of my hands on her waist. Naturally, I oblige. Instantly.

I lift my hands, extending my arms towards her; slowly grabbing her waist, just as she had asked me to. Not just because I wanted to, which I admittedly do enjoy; but because she had asked me to, because she is enjoying it royally.

As I place the palms of my hands on her waist, I feel the sticky grip engage; just the way I know she enjoys it, just as much as I do. I just spread my fingers slightly, to put emphasis as I am enjoying the moment behind her.

With the support of my hands, firmly on her waist; she is lifting her right foot, as she is holding up the tights before her. Slowly slipping the foot right down into the tight embrace of the tights she is holding before her; sliding the foot ever further down, as the material is tightening up in the effort of contracting around her smooth skin. The smooth material, slippery to the point of feeling wet; as she continues to slide the right foot all the way down, until her toes finally do reach the end.

Now she is pulling the tights all the way up, before she is affording the garments a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice; in order to ascertain that ever elusive perfect fit. She had just put her right foot down onto the floor; as she started to tug, finding the perfect and comfortable balance.

I notice, how she is lifting up her left foot; slipping it down into the tights, sliding the foot all the way down comfortably. I maintain my grip, all the while; as she is affording the tights a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice; in order to ascertain that ever elusive fit.

Just as she had set her left foot down, once more; she is finally standing firmly, on her two feet again.

She is grinning.

"Could you let go, for just a moment?" she inquires.

"Yes, but of course!" I respond, as I let go of her.

She takes a step back, fluidly; before she is turning around slowly: once, twice and thrice. In the process, she is showing off her figure; as well as the effect, the suit is having on her appearance for me to see.

I can't help but notice, the tightness and smooth figure it is lending her; though it appears the tights had stolen her toes, while also leaving her mound plump, yet perfectly and inoffensively smooth.

"Excellent, excellent; you are quite beautiful, in these tights!" I exclaim, complementing on her looks.

She grins in excitement, "Thanks!" she then utters, beaming a grin at me, snickering.

"I take it, this is the time you slip these gorgeous gloves on?" I offer, pointing at a pair of skin-tone full-length gloves still hanging in her wardrobe.

"Oh!" she exclaims; "These looks just right!" she continues, as she is casting a glance in the direction of the gloves I had pointed out.

As she had turned her attention towards the wardrobe, facing its content; I stand behind her, watching over her shoulders with my hands on her hips, as she is putting these gloves on.

She picks up the right glove, slipping her hand in; pulling the sleeve all the way up to her shoulder before she affords it a few tentative tugs in order to ascertain that perfect fit: once, twice and thrice.

With the right glove on, she is picking up the left; slipping her hand in, before she is pulling it up all the way to the shoulder.

Naturally she could not help but notice how her fingers had slipped right into place, in the process; as she was slipping the gloves on, pulling them all the way up.

"Oh, oh, oh; oo-oo-ooh!" she then exclaims, as she is holding her hands up before her eyes.

Her now inch-long, crystal-clear, semi-square nails starting just after the final joint of each finger; the brightly cerise and highly sensitive touch pad reaching from the final joint of the finger and all the way up in under the nail. Just as the silicon-white suction-cup covering the entire palm of her right and left hand.

"Perfectly you!" I point out, grinning behind her back.

"Yes, they really are; they make me feel like a woman, like never before!" she responds.

"I think I may need some assistance, with this!" she points out; indicating the garment in her hands, the top or brassiere she had been looking forwards to be wearing.

"Do you want me to pick it out, for you; or would you prepare to pick it, and just see which I prefer?" I inquire.

As I am watching, she is picking out a silicon-white top with elbow-long sleeves.

"How about this?" she inquires.

"The hue does mirror your pristine innocence perfectly, and I am certain it will be complimenting your feminine charm perfectly as well!" I offer.

"Thank you!" she exclaims; as she is offering the top for me to hold, and help her into.

"You are quite welcome, my dead!" I respond, as I am accepting the garment she had just chosen; "If you just turn your back towards me!" I point out, and she complies, grinning.

"There.." I say, as she is turning around and I am lifting the top over her head; "Now; if you could just slide your hands in through the sleeves, please!" I continue.

"With pleasure!" she responds, as she is sliding her hands into the sleeves.

"There; excellent, excellent!" I exclaim; "Just a bit further!" I continue, as I am pulling the top closer and closer as she is stepping forwards.

"Oo-ooh, oo-ooh, oo-ooh!" she sighs, in delight.

"Beautiful!" I offer, as I am pulling the top together tightly behind her back.

"Almost there, almost there; almost.." I offer, as I am closing the material behind her back; watching it close, as if it had been a zipper I had been pulling up.

The material is coating her chest and arms all the way to her elbows, just as intended. In the process, it is also sealing the gloves into place and leave them as if it had been the skin she had been born with.

"Time for some fun.." I offer; "If you were to walk up to the wall opposite of my wardrobe?" I suggest, as I am watching her closing the wardrobe; after herself.

"Yes, but of course!" she is responding, just as she starts walking over the floor.

"Now; if you turn around, pressing your back up firmly onto the wall, please!" I incite.

"Yes.." she responds, as she is following the suggestion to the letter and presses her back up against the wall.

"If you spread your fingers wide, as you lift your hands up!" I continue.

"Yes.." she responds, as she eagerly follows my suggestion.

"Just a few inches higher, then spread your fingers as wide as possible.." I continue, as I watch her comply with a wide grin; "There, hands onto the wall; before you press down, gently!" I conclude.

"Of course.." she responds, while complying, only to be interrupted by the distinct squeaking from the palms of her hands.

"Ooo-oo-oo-oo-ooh.." she sighs, as she is realizing what the sound is indicating.

"Excellent, excellent!" I exclaim, snickering in delight; "I think I can count on your undivided attention!" I point out.

"Yes.." she breathes; "Yes.."; "Yes.." she continues.

"Just relax, and enjoy the show!" I instruct her, as I am watching her visibly relaxing as I instruct her.

However, as she is relaxing, it soon dawns upon her; her hands remain on the wall, as if on their own accord. The suction is holding firm.