Hooded Wife 204

We enjoyed a very nice brunch on a Portland restaurant's riverfront terrace before driving back to Seattle. My wife was clearly loving showing off her stretchy orange 'second skin' dress ensemble. She made two trips to the rest room and took different long routes both times. She looked very glamorous with her white accessories, beautiful smile, and pretty scarf. Her collar was obscured by the neck scarf, which, with it's flowing tails, also helped to kind of downplay her 42" bust . What was overwhelmingly the most noticeable was her prominent bottom clad in this thin very stretchy bright orange material. She has 'bubble buns' that are high, round, and protrude outward to the rear in a delightfully inimitable manner. Her latex skirts need custom 'cheek pockets' to accommodate them. I often tease her that she has a black lady's rear. This dress was able to follow her form without restricting her natural shape at all. In fact it followed so well that it defined her individual cheeks down into her crack, top to bottom. There was no question that she was pantyless. Her buttocks always gyrate seductively when she walks, and with high heels its exaggerated. Her very erect posture, encouraged by her collar, helps convey how proud she is of her figure. The effect on a crowd of upscale diners in their after-church finery was overpowering. My wife obviously liked flaunting her sexiness and I was amused watching the results. She was about the same age as a lot of the church-women, and none of their menfolk failed to watch her intently. After she sat back down I could tell these guys were getting scolded for watching "that women". I actually felt she was dressed some what reserved, since her breasts weren't openly featured as usual. All in all, I loved her style and demeanor.

Once we were back in our home town and I'd had a few days to reflect on our trip, I concluded that a mix of showy glamor and hooded subjugation was very gratifying for both of us. I conceded that she would have to remain hooded when we were in Seattle to retain her anonymity. We would need to vacation elsewhere to mix the two personas.

We did start to mix our hooded presentation; sometimes disguised with her head scarf, more often openly hooded, and less frequently hooded with her being leashed. In any event, her hood was always firmly secured by the locked collar. Her attire was always figure-flattering all black. We never waived from our always-to-be-hooded pledge, which I deemed as mobile bondage necessary to maintain her proper submissive posture while in public. My wife eagerly embraced her subjugated position.

I did repeatedly recollect how much I'd admired her conscious awareness of the impact her bottom made when it was the featured asset while she wore her orange dress. In her hooded condition she always exhibited excellent poise but that didn't stop me from wondering if she couldn't be induced to emphasize her bottom a little more. I wanted her to be continually aware of her luscious butt so she'd be reminded to present it with flare. Anal sex had long been a mainstay of our lovemaking and she knew how much I admired her impressive bottom. Ever since she was twelve years old her breasts had garnered the most attention and it had taken me a long time to convince her that her butt was equally impressive. My increasing preoccupation with her bottom led me to pretty much always cup it with one hand while we were cruising around if she were unleashed. I would let her walk a half step ahead of me at my side so that I could guide her with just my hand. Leaving her hands free from the need to hold my arm allowed her to move in a less restricting manner and display her body more openly. However, holding my hand over her bottom did somewhat obscure it and prevent her from best presenting it; providing a good reason to leash her. 

I got the idea that a way to embellish the notice of her bottom could be by having her wear shiny black latex leggings as part of her all-black theme. We took careful measurements to provide 'Vex Couture Latex' with an accurate portrayal of her shape from above her natural waist down. They used .5mm latex in several panels to make what they said would provide the smoothest, most flattering, fit. The objective is to stretch uniformly so as not to have any wrinkles while standing naturally.  There were no seams on the outside of her hips or legs, or across the fullness of her cheeks. They used a hidden center-rear zipper that ran up the crack seam from the widest point of her hips to the pant's high waisted top, which was a couple inches above her natural waist, to aid entry. They still took more effort to put on than even the tightest latex skirt, requiring  more talcum powder and smoothing-as-you-go attention. I had to help with the zipping owing to the tension. The result was very flattering indeed. The leggings compressed her into a smooth, continuous form that idealized her hour glass shape. Just like the orange dress, it defined her individual cheeks without deforming them. They also nicely defined her pronounced  'camel toe' pubic mound in front. When she first tried them on she wore them with heels and nothing else for the next two hours around the house. She became well aware of the profound statement her bottom now made and was very proud of it.

The next Saturday afternoon I took my wife to the Capital Hill neighborhood to show off her new improved look. This is the very liberal home to the city's gay and  BDSM communities where we fit in with all the other kinksters and only encounter approvals. She wore her standard long sleeved opaque tight fitting black stretchy top over her pointy maximizer bra, and let it ride to just overlap the top of her new leggings, worn without a belt. She put on her tall stiletto-heeled zip ankle booties that are in polished black leather. We worked together to put on her hood and I secured it with her collar locked in place. I then carefully applied silicone polish with a soft cloth over her leggings and to her hood, so that they matched. She walked back and forth in her best vamp style, being sure to feature her awesome bottom in it's new finery. She was the epitome of a shapely all black mannequin wearing a discipline collar. I took her by the hand and led her to our garage and into the car.

We parked on a leafy residential street a couple blocks from the business area. The sidewalk was vacant and my wife and I walked along just holding hands like lovers everywhere. She liked the freedom of not having to take hold of my arm as in more crowded situations, and strutted her stuff in her best fashion. She was confident that I'd alert her to any obstacles and would have seemed sighted to anyone observing her stride. I complemented her on her proud and sensual presentation. I took the opportunity to watch her closely and I loved what I saw. Her bottom was very apparent and most luscious. Taken together with her provocative walk it just looked most inviting. The forming characteristic of the high waisted leggings flattened her stomach and waist right up to where her dramatic pointed breasts stuck straight out about 8". Her body was the idealized hour glass shape. Then there was the effect of her sleek, shiny black, tightly hooded head. You could appreciate her facial features, but there were no eye or mouth openings. She had the distinctive gaunt, hollow cheek, dropped chin, expression created by her internal penis gag holding her mouth open. This effect probably bespoke her subjugated status even more than her collar. The only deviation from head-to-floor black was the silver hasp, lock, and studs of her tall collar. The only skin visible was her hands. Her overall presentation was absolutely breath taking; and I was immensely proud of her. Her image personified female sexual objectification, with her being kept as a burdened submissive. She was my human mannequin and favorite possession.

As we approached pedestrians her impact was immediately profound. The first we encountered were a straight middle age couple in business attire that rounded the corner  and walked towards us for at least fifty feet before we passed. Since we were the only other people on the sidewalk they had an unobstructed view of my wife. As we got closer I could tell that they were shocked if not dumb struck. They stood aside as we passed and I smiled and thanked them. They did not say anything or show any sign of acknowledgment. After we'd gone twenty feet or so past them I snuck a look backwards and they were both turned watching us. The next people coming  towards us were two hip looking well dressed young women, maybe in their late twenties. They were very cool and watched intently but didn't show any reaction as they passed. I greeted them with a cheerful "Hello" and one of them kind of smirked and replied "Hi". My wife of course was oblivious to the affect she created and I would never characterize peoples' reactions for her. I wanted her to believe, as much as possible, that she was just taken in stride. This was less successful  as we entered the busier business blocks peopled by knowing counter-culture types who would make comments she could hear. None of their verbal reactions were derogatory, in fact most were uplifting and complimentary in nature and I'm sure my wife was gratified by the flattery. Typical were: "Wow!", "Outstanding", "All right", and "Sensational body". One that got me snickering was, "Wow, what do you feed her?" Occasionally someone would clap, and as we passed some sidewalk tables in front of a gay bar about ten people clapped and made cat-calls; not too much different than the reaction she'd garner walking past in her typical revealing dress manner if she were unhooded. She always liked this sort of attention so I'm sure she was pleased with herself, however here she was unable to acknowledge their cheers with a pretty smile. The by passers who appeared shocked and disapproving tended to stand back and gawk but not say anything. I ignored them and my wife was unaware of their existence. They probably  did outnumber those who responded favorably. Any disapproving comments would be along the line of, "My word!", or "You should be ashamed of yourself!"; directed at me. My wife wasn't offended by these since she knew she was brazen looking, and it was thrilling to be recognized as such on occassion.

We wandered through the district for a couple of hours and both enjoyed ourselves. I would describe the window displays and interesting sights to her at length and she would squeeze my hand to express her appreciation. I never mentioned anything about how others were reacting to seeing her situation. We went into a couple of sex-toy shops and I explained the different items to her in detail, much to the amusement of the sales people and several other shoppers. The only thing anyone said out loud was, "You look very striking" from the man who owned 'Body Delights'. He had been paying attention to us and explaining some of his wares that I had been looking at. My wife must have felt comfortable with him by then because she pirouetted around in a showy suggestive manner at his complement. He was gregarious but never asked about or commented on her imposed incommunicado condition. I very much liked to have her just accepted as she appeared, without comment, which made me comfortable with our public presentation.

Much sooner than I would have preferred, I led us back to our car and headed home. I knew my wife would need to pee by now and the peeling off of her leggings, and then getting back into them, was not feasible by herself in a public rest room. I was now convinced that this outfit was going to become her new uniform.

As soon as we arrived back home my wife removed her tall booties and then I helped carefully peel off her rubber leggings. She headed to the bathroom to urinate and I sat down in the easy chair. After a few minutes she reemerged and I beckoned her to come sit on my lap. She looked real cool as she felt her way across the suite to me; nude from the waist down and black from the waist up. Her stupendous breasts enscounced in her maximizer bra looked way outsized in comparison to the rest her svelte body. She sat down crossways over my legs and wrapped her arms around my neck in familiar fashion. I reached to craddle her delightfully bulbous buttocks with my right hand and slid my left between her thighs to stroke her sleek clean-shaven vulva. I lovingly nuzzeled her slick rubber face with my nose. We just held each other for several delicious silent minutes. I broke the spell to tell her: "I think you looked outstanding today, maybe the best ever. This style really suits your persona. I was immensely proud to be seen as your keeper and evident lover." She squeezed my neck tighter and we held each other silently for several more minutes while I caressed her amazingly silky inner thigh. I then said in a solemn voice: "From now on I want you to wear this exact outfit whenever we go out. This is how I want you to be displayed as your trademark look. You are henceforth going to be presented as my perfect black mannequin. To be able to showcase you as my most prized possession; my beloved submissive flaunting her inimitable body, is a dream come true for me." She tightly squeezed my hand between her thighs and turned to press her breasts against my chest and firmly hug me. It was clear that she was flattered that I wanted her to be kept in this most sensational  manner and be seen by everyone as my sex doll.
Iluvvamps Iluvvamps
41-45, M
Sep 10, 2012