Krista padded into the room…the room where her sister was waiting, sitting silently on th

Krista padded into the room…the room where her sister was waiting, sitting silently on the table. Celeste was dressed similarly, but in a green Pearlyhose bodybind while Krista was in red. Krista wanted to rush over to Celeste, shake her sister out of her stupor, tear the Pearlyhose off Celeste and free her from her predicament.  But she could not. It was all Krista could do to focus on what was happening as her body moved slowly, deliberately to take her place beside her sister to wait. Krista could not will her body to do anything else. And even if she could somehow gain some control, she was certain the tight Pearlyhose mittens encasing her hands would be of no use to free her sister. Or herself. Celeste remained silent, eyes unfocused, face slack and Krista wondered if her sister was even still aware of what was happening. What had happened. Krista herself found it ever harder to focus her thoughts, to remember as if she were struggling to wake from a dream. Struggling and losing as her mind swirled and sank and she swirled and sank as she tried to remember what happened as if it was just a dream or is this a dream now and is she sleeping and dreaming or is this really happening?

Or is this a dream?

Or is this real?

Was that really a new Pop-UP Boutique in that seemingly abandoned building down the block or did she just dream it?

All the pretty clothes…the pretty shop assistants… Did she dream them too? So warm and friendly and with their hair sleek and tight– pulled back into pretty swirly Buns.  Did she dream that?  Their legs gleaming with a Pearly sheen soft and so smooth. Surely that was real, wasn’t it?

Or was it?

Matching Bra and Panty sets, one for her, one for Celeste, a deal they could not pass up. So pretty so comfortable so inexpensive. Surely that could not be real?  But was it? Wasn’t it? Did they even pay for their purchases?  So hard to remember…as if…

Was it a dream?

And when they returned to their apartment they were wearing their new underwear not even remembering what had happened to their old underwear.  But it did not matter did it?  Because this is only a dream, after all.

Or is it?

And in their shopping bags, silky smooth brightly colored Pearlyhose.  A set for each of them. Red. And. Green.

A gift just for them.

Gossamer liquid in their hands. Gliding so smoothly and easily up their legs.  Fitting snugly and perfectly on them. Without effort. As if…

In a dream…

And tops too…of the same material.  Soft and smooth. Gliding over their torsos, Fitting perfectly on their shoulders, head free. But not their hands, which were encased in slippery smooth mittens.  Why?  Who would have designed such a thing?  Does it really matter?  This is only a dream.

Isn’t it?

Surely it is just a dream for when the waistband of the Pearlyhose tops met the Waistband of the Pearlyhose they stuck together and held fast. Forming one continuous bodystocking. Impossible. Unless this IS a dream.  

Which it must be.

Isn’t it?

No ordinary hosiery could do that. Can do that. Does that. Does it? No ordinary hosiery can do what happened next either.

Proving that this is a dream.

For once they were fully clad in the Pearlyhose the sisters began to experience… Sensations.  A stimulation that could not be possible.  Almost as if there was a purpose, a sentience behind it. Gentle caressing, everywhere the Pearlyhose touches. Rubbing, stroking, insistently teasing all over and finally focusing on where they were most sensitive…

And ever building…

Did they respond to the stimulation?  Or did they just imagine it? So hard to remember, so hard to focus as the stimulation kept building, kept on teasing until they…

Until they gave in.

But it kept on building…and building…a wet heat rising as their Pearlyhose mittened hands joined in rubbing and stroking and touching…

Themselves and each other.  

Or was that just a dream…?

Pulses of Pleasure overwhelmed them as they collapsed, spent, into a dreamless slumber.

Or is this too a dream?

So they sat waiting…waiting for the dream to end.  

Or is it just beginning?

Will they come, the smiling young Women, hair sleekly pulled back in swirly Buns; will they come retrieve the sisters. Take them away, away to a Salon in a far-off Resort?  

And how many more are like them?

Waiting.

and Dreaming.

And Swirling

and Sinking