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The Munich Fetish Factory (Chapter 1 & 2)

  • Author Author LHerrmann
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  • Blog entry read time Blog entry read time 14 min read

Chapter 1​

Gasping, Joachim carried the last box from our little car into my new shared apartment room. He threw it on the ground, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and snarked at me, "Alright, sis. From now on, you're on your own."

"Don't worry," I replied, "I'm sure I'll do just fine without you."

Joachim laughed and pulled out his rolling paper and tobacco. He took a pinch of tobacco and rolled it up. Looking up cautiously. I stood nervously beside the bed, watching my brother put the rolled cigarette in his mouth. He put his rolling paper and tobacco pouch back into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You're not planning on smoking in my new room, are you?" I asked him uncertainly.

Joachim laughed and reached into his other jacket pocket for his lighter.

"No, no, no," I scolded, trying to snatch the lighter from his hand, "you did that once in my room and Mom thought I started smoking. I don't want my new roommate to get a bad impression of me."

Joachim pushed me onto my bed, laughing harder.

"Trying to stop me by force? – Don’t worry, sis, I can restrain myself."

He put the lighter back into his pocket and tucked the cigarette behind his ear. I knew he was joking, but I also knew how unpredictable my big brother could be. Once, during a volleyball game, he threw an empty plastic water bottle at my head from the audience. The referee let the game continue without a redo. Naturally, the ball came my way right then and I missed it. My teammates were mad. Their angry faces were directed at the stands, while Joachim's loud laughter echoed throughout the hall.

"Don't sweat it, my brother's a jerk too," a teammate said, patting my left butt cheek.

I had every reason to resent my brother. But deep down, I knew he loved me. Not every brother attends all his annoying little sister's games to cheer her on... or to throw a water bottle at her. He was one of those people who didn't like showing their feelings. He loved me, but he'd never admit it.

Now, Joachim had left my room and stood outside, lighting up a cigarette. At least I have a few minutes of peace, I thought, opening a moving box. Inside was a beautifully designed book. A feather was glued to its cover, and a team photo of my girls and me adorned the center. All my friends were in the volleyball club. Now, I had left them all behind. My heart grew heavy thinking about not seeing them anymore. But I knew I would still visit them from time to time if my studies weren't too demanding. Or during semester breaks – yes, semester breaks are long (I guess). They offer plenty of time to visit old friends back home. A tear slid down my left cheek, and I looked up, hoping Joachim hadn't noticed.

I peeked out the window. My brother stood with my new roommate, both smoking. This had to be at least his second cigarette. I watched as he laughed again. My brother always laughed, and often at the most inopportune times. My roommate seemed to have noticed too. Rolling her eyes, she gave him a fake smile, stubbed out her cigarette, and walked back inside. A few moments later, I heard the apartment door swing open. My roommate entered the flat. My brother followed just two steps behind.

Walking over to me, my roommate extended her hand.

"Hi, little one. I'm Veronika, but my friends call me Vroni."

"Hi, Vroni," I replied.

"Did I say we're friends?" she grinned.

Embarrassed, I looked down. Vroni laughed.

"We can be friends," she leaned in and whispered, "unless you're like your brother. In that case, it's doubtful."

I couldn't help but smirk. What had Joachim done this time? Was he hitting on my roommate? I was sure he was. Oh my God. I didn't even want to imagine. Had he boasted about his supposed soccer career or something worse? He always told every woman about his alleged athletic career. Or did he dive in headfirst, recounting his triumphant escapades in beds across Dresden? But one thing's for sure about my brother: he's a master at playing off awkward situations. He doesn't care what others think. I, unfortunately, didn't inherit that mindset. I constantly worry about others' opinions.

Am I wearing the right clothes? Do I look "easy"? Is my hair okay? Was it smart to laugh at that moment? Did I offend someone with that statement? And on and on... My mind is like a giant hard drive, always self-conscious. Is "hard drive" even the right metaphor for it? - No clue.

"Don't worry. I'm not like my brother. I'm pretty much his polar opposite," I assured.

"That sounds good," said Vroni. "If you were just like your brother, I wouldn't want to hang out with you."

"You sure said that loudly," Joachim remarked, surprised.

"Of course. I want you to know where you stand." Shaking my head, I approached Joachim. "I think it's time you leave before you cause more trouble. I can handle it from here. I always have."

"How about," he cleared his throat, "a little 'thank you for driving me and all my stuff to my new place'?"

I laughed. It was endearing, in a way. I loved my big brother, but just like him, I struggled to express my feelings. Without words, I opened my arms and embraced him.

"Thank you, big brother."

He opened his arms too, giving me a big, loving hug. Words weren't needed; I knew he loved me. For all his flaws, he was a great brother. I didn't know what I'd do without him. I'd probably have had to handle the move all on my own, which, even without many possessions, wouldn't have been easy. I would've probably had to hire a moving company. On his way out, Joachim playfully blew kisses at me. I smiled, watching him close the door. I rushed to the window, anticipating him to open the building door. "The first thing he'll do is roll another cigarette," I thought.

I was wrong. The cigarette was already rolled. He just lit it and leaned against our small car. It's crazy to think that all my belongings fit into that tiny car. So, my whole life fits into a small car. Compared to other girls my age, I'm quite the minimalist.

My eyes wandered the room. Three unpacked moving boxes sat on the floor. I'd placed two halfway emptied boxes on the right side of my bed. The walls were barren and dreary. The room had a mix of pink and white walls. I personally prefer blue or red. But as an aspiring psychologist, I knew that red could also evoke aggression.



Chapter 2​

"Hey, little girl!" a loud voice called from the kitchen. "Come here."

I moved towards the door and looked back out of the window. I crept into the kitchen with cautious steps. Vroni had taken a seat at the table and was chewing gum. She reached for a bag of potato chips that was lying next to her on the corner bench.

"Do you want some?" she asked in a friendly, but also somehow authoritative manner.

"No thanks. It's not really my thing," I replied and sat down on the chair opposite Vroni.

She rolled her eyes and fingered the top of the bag of chips. Her long black hair brushed the table. I wondered how she was even going to get the bag open with her long fingernails. It felt like an eternity before the bag finally gave way.

"What do you eat?" she asked without looking at me.

"Fruit, vegetables... That sort of thing."

"You've got to be kidding me! No potato chips? No snacks? Where do you get the calories for your sport? I'm telling you; I wouldn't be as muscular without potato chips. I work out. I work out a lot."

She reached into the bag with her right hand and pulled out two large potato chips. Without hesitation, she popped them both in her mouth and chewed with her mouth open. The chewing gum was still in there too.

"Are you sure you don't want to?"

I shook my head and watched as her hand went back into the bag.

"How long have you lived in Munich?" I asked, staring somewhat embarrassed at the bag of potato chips.

Veronika held her left hand in front of her and counted off her fingers. She raised her hand and showed four.

"Four years. I studied something else first. I was on the media track at first, but then I wasn't so good at the projects. I'm more the type to write dry papers, less the type for design projects and stuff like that. But that doesn't mean that I don't enjoy designing. On the contrary; I love to draw. I also like designing logos. But these weird guidelines at university: ‘draw this so that this can happen.’ - Totally boring! I want to live out my own creativity. - What's that like for you?"

"I'm studying psychology in a week," I replied. "Didn't we talk about this at the presentation?"

"Maybe we did. I don't memorize such unimportant things."

I let out an embarrassed and agonized laugh.

"What was that?" Vroni asked with a quizzical look on her face.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Dude. That can't be healthy," she said and reached boldly into the bag of chips again.

I looked down at the floor, embarrassed. I saw Veronika's sneakers sticking out from under the kitchen table. I had shoes like that too. But I thought I had forgotten them at home. Who knows what Joachim did with them. He probably sold them to Japan as a fetish object. He hadn't done anything like that before, but he was certainly capable of it.

Vroni kicked me in the shin.

"Hey, don't stare at my shoes and answer my question. What do you do in your free time?"

I shook myself a little and then answered: "I play volleyball and read a lot. Preferably romance novels."

"Oh God! I live with Mother Theresa."

Vroni's eyes rolled around again until she stopped at the bag of chips. She reached in and pulled out three. One fell onto her white hoodie.

"What are you doing?" I asked to avoid the awkward silence.

Veronika used her long fingernails to grab the potato chip that had fallen on her chest. She looked at it, turned it once or twice and then put it in her mouth.

"YouTube!" she replied with her mouth full. "I make videos... Make-up tips and stuff like that. Lifestyle stuff!"

"That's a good niche," I said. "It can make quite a lot of money. Do you make money from it?"

Vroni laughed condescendingly.

"Earning money! Are you kidding me?"

I looked at her shoes again, unsure. She crossed her legs and gyrated her right ankle. She was wearing blue jeans with a long hole above her right knee. You could see her tanned skin through this hole. She must have gone to the solarium. There was no other way to explain this even tan. Vroni was generally a very beautiful woman. The boys must have fallen at her feet in droves. I wondered if she had a boyfriend.

"Ey. Do you have a boyfriend?" I suddenly heard.

I jumped and saw Veronika looking at me with an expectant expression. I shook my head. Vroni started to laugh.

"This is going to be great. Two singles in one apartment!"

With that statement, I had my answer.

"Let me show you something."

Vroni jumped up from the corner bench. She didn't give me a glance and walked into her room. I looked after her. I wasn't sure if I should follow. Somehow, she was sending very contradictory signals. Did she like me or not? I couldn't tell at the time. There must be a reason why she had chosen me, of all people, as her flatmate. She probably had several thousand applications and hundreds of viewings. Apartments in Munich were in high demand. You could become a millionaire, even if you only had a small cardboard box behind the university to rent. People would pay any price to move to the Bavarian capital.

"Are you coming now?" Vroni called from her room.

I got up from the table and made my way to Veronika's room. Tidy was something else. There were clothes lying around everywhere. I couldn't say for sure whether they were clean or not. They didn't look dirty, but why would you throw clean clothes around so carelessly?

"Just don't pay attention to the crap. My wardrobe is too small. I should buy a new one."

"Fine, fine," I said.

My gaze followed Vroni's right index finger. She was sitting at her desk with her laptop open. She pointed to the YouTube homepage. With a quick click, her user profile opened.

"Too few views. That's what I say."

I looked at her statistics. She had uploaded over two hundred videos. Hardly any videos had a hundred views. I grabbed the mouse and scrolled through her profile. I scrolled past make-up tutorials, "Follow me around" videos and the odd fashion post. But I stopped at one video. Ten thousand views? - What did this video have that the others didn't?

My eyes wandered over the thumbnail. On the thumbnail, I saw Veronika in a pair of tight Nike running leggings and a black top. She held her somewhat large bottom up to the camera and pointed at it. "Sportoutfit Haul" was written on the title.

"This video is more successful than most. Do you know how that's possible?" I asked her.

"Presumably..." she tried to justify herself, "the big companies I'm advertising for have been responsible for the views."

Didn't sound unlikely at first. But I had a slightly more plausible idea:

"Could it be that these calls are from men who want to see your butt?"

Vroni looked at me in horror.

"Are you saying I'm turning myself into a sex object with this video?"

Embarrassed, I tried to correct my statement: "No, uh... Of course not..."

Vroni laughed: "That's a shame. I would have liked that. But of course, I've already thought about it. I'm not stupid."

"Maybe you should make more videos like that. It depends a bit on who you want your target audience to be."

"I want my channel to be clicked on a lot. I don't care who my target audience is."

I turned away from her and walked deeper into her room. Her room was bigger than mine. There was a large bed in the middle that could easily fit three people. The large mattress was covered in black to match the dark wallpaper. On the wall was a poster of some pretty boy I'd seen somewhere before but couldn't quite place. There was a small cupboard under the poster. A white T-shirt with the words "Let me sleep on" was on it. My gaze wandered further to the left. Opposite the bed was the large closet. The door was already bulging outwards. It must be hopelessly overcrowded. I took a step towards the wardrobe. Vroni turned to me.

"Go ahead!" she called out to me. "If you want, you can have a look at my cupboard. Maybe you'll find some inspiration. I've seen your few boxes. You urgently need new clothes."

I walked towards the wardrobe and opened the door. My gaze wandered from the top left to the top right corner. There were countless summer dresses, T-shirts, sweaters, lingerie and skirts dangling from the rail in the middle. On the shelves to my left were jeans, pants and tights. A strange suit suddenly tumbled out of the top shelf towards me. It had the feel of tights, but looked more like a large romper suit. I picked up the suit and unfolded it in my hands. It was a full body suit with a leopard print.

"Veronika, what's this?" I asked, holding the suit out to her. She turned around and grinned.

"It's called a morph suit," she said. "I still have it from a photo shoot for my studies. It feels exceptionally soft. Do you want to try it on?"

I shook my head. "Nah, don't bother." I desperately tried to stuff the suit back into the wardrobe. But at that moment, Vroni was already standing next to me and pulled the suit out of the wardrobe again.

"It feels fantastic. Like a second skin. Try it on, you'll love it."

I looked into her eyes, looking for help. I hoped she was only joking. But her eyes looked serious. I had to admit that I also had a certain interest in trying on the suit. Some time ago, I had even heard about a kind of speed dating event where you took part while wearing a morph suit. I grabbed the suit and put it on her bed. I slipped out of my flip-flops and started to slip my feet into the suit.

"Are you going to wear the suit over your clothes?" Vroni asked incredulously.

"Yes," I replied, "I don't want to get your suit dirty."

Vroni shook her head. "Take off your shorts and top. You can keep your bra and knickers on."

Without thinking twice, I unzipped my denim shorts, pulled down my pants and slipped out of them. I grabbed my top with both hands. I carefully pulled it over my head and threw it onto my pants, which were lying on the floor. I sat down on Veronika's bed. My legs slowly slid through the legs of the suit. It felt a bit like I was slipping on a pair of nylon tights. I stood up and pulled the suit up. I slipped my arms through the sleeves of the morph suit and pulled them over my fingers like gloves. The suit was very comfortable, I had to admit. Vroni reached for the zipper and closed the suit at the back. I didn't put the headpiece on. My hands slid over the soft material, and I could feel how silky and sensitive my skin seemed to be underneath it. There was a mirror next to the wardrobe. I approached the mirror and looked at my body. The suit covered my whole body except for my head. My hands ran over my ribs, and I felt the sensation that Vroni had just mentioned. It was a feeling of lightness. Somehow, I felt naked, but not in an uncomfortable or shameful way. My heart beat a little more wildly as I looked at myself in the mirror. I suddenly had thoughts that I'd never had in my whole life: I was proud of my body. I was slim and the suit fitted my shape perfectly. There wasn't a single hair to be ashamed of. My body was perfect, and it had the perfect circumference.

"How does it feel?" asked Vroni.

"Like you said," I replied. "Kind of like a second skin."

"Hang on a minute. You still have a few bumps. I'll help you to get rid of them."

Vroni rushed over to me and tried to smooth out the creases in the suit on my buttocks. Her hands stroked gently over my buttocks and up my back. I was starting to get nervous. I felt a slight tingling sensation on my skin, which became more and more uncomfortable. Veronika's hands stroked my ribs, and the tingling became stronger. I could no longer hold back the twitching and let out a convulsive cry.

"What was that?" Vroni grinned. "Is my new roommate ticklish?"

I shook my head and desperately tried to free my body from her clutches. But she didn't give in and dug her long fingernails into my sides. I felt as if the suit was making me even more ticklish than I already was. I squirmed to the right and managed to get at least one hand free. Vroni moved her remaining left hand under my armpit. I felt a sudden attack of weakness and sank to the floor. With her right hand, she reached under my right armpit and rubbed her long fingernails over my helpless and weak skin. I let out a convulsive laugh and a "Please stop!". Vroni let go of me for a moment and I took the chance and ran into my room. I slammed the door and sat down on the floor right in front of my entrance.

"She likes me," I mumbled.

I stretched out my legs and looked at the suit from a new perspective. I looked at my smooth legs, showing every muscle underneath the leopard print. My right hand ran down my leg. I didn't dare to think it through, but I thought I should wear a suit like this more often. Maybe something a little simpler. Blue or red, but shiny in any case.

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LHerrmann
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