I finally make it through the crowd and reach Wilsons store. Adventuring in a shopping centre one week before christmas is not an easy thing. But I really want to spoil myself a little bit and get what I dreamed of for at least a month. So I took a day off at the job, pretending I was sick. In a way, I am really sick. There is no way I can restrain myself anymore.

  Indeed, one full month after the delicious events that happened in Doctor Maryse Lantier's office, here I am again, longing for my adored fetish. I think I'm seriously in love with this woman that freely realized my fantasies. Since this historical day, since her red leather hands gave me so much pleasure, I've tried to reach her without success. Her secretary told me she was on a two weeks trip to Hawaii. That was three weeks ago. Yesterday, I've called her again. No response. I must be patient.

  So, here I am standing in front of the women's gloves display at Wilsons store, anxious to find a very good looking pair of leather gloves. Not just any pair of glove. If I don't ever enter again in Maryse's office, I must get something that will help myself to remember how wonderful she was. Wilsons have a great choice. So great it's hard to find exactly what I want. But after a few minutes searching, I find, amongst the others, this four button lenght pair of red leather glove. There is also a white pair lined with rabbit fur. White as Alicia's long gloves? Yes. But, to me, Alicia remains a strange character who only lives deep in my memory and nowhere else. As Maryse said, there's even a possibility that I invented her, that this past life thing never existed. On the other hand, I know my sweet Maryse is reality. So I take the soft red gloves. They feel fantastic under the touch of my fingers. They're lined with silk and that is something rare in this big winter cashmere or wool lined glove display. I and read the price tag: $80 dollars! A lot of money... One third of my weekly salary. God! But I am not bothered with this fact simply because... I am not going to pay the gloves anyway!

  One look to the right, one look to the left. Everybody is busy and no one can see what I am going to do. The gloves are in my trembling right hand. The second after, they rest against my belly, under my thick wool sweater. Slowly, I button my coat, trying to calm down, and I leave the glove display. And then accessory department. I can feel the leather on my skin. So soft! How wonderful it will be to have them at home for some wild intimate experiences. But I'm not through yet. The glass gates of the store are about forty feet from me. They seem to be a thousand miles far. "Calm, Steve! Stay caaaalm." Easy to say but not to do. I try to walk at the right speed, not too slow cause I don't want to stay here all day long and not too fast cause I don't want to attract everybody's attention. Just the right pace. The door is now twenty feet from me. I can see the snow falling outside. A few more steps and I'm free.
  -- Hey!
  Then, something is telling me to walk a little bit faster. My instinctive biological radar is detecting some activity behind me. I'm in front of the door now. I push it...
  -- Hey you! Stop!
  Just a quick look behind. I'm detected! Two guys are after me. One fat and one old and slim. I have the choice to run like hell or quit and get caught and punished for what I've done (or tried to do).
  I'm not stupid.
  I push the door and run as fast as I can!
  The two gorillas must be ten or fifteen feet behind. After a minute running in the snowy parking lot, one of them, the fatest one, decide to quit.
  -- Let him go, Paul! It's not worth it.
  But that damn Paul is not listening to his moron friend. In fact, he's doubling his speed. So I try to accelerate too. But I'm not doing as well as he does. Dubuc Boulevard is just a few steps away. I have something in mind. I cut straigth to the boulevard. No time to look out for cars. I just cross it, crossing my fingers too. I can see the light is green and the cars are coming towards me at full speed. God! All this for a pair of gloves!

  One final jump... I'm safe. I land badly on the sidewalk, hurting my knees and hands. I can see the guy from Wilsons store on the other side of the boulevard. He's quiting. He's looking a me. I'm just taking a second or two to give him a beautiful smile then I'm gone.

  I'm walking peacefully on Juneau street. The gloves are still under my sweater. In the heat of action, it's a chance I haven't lost them. I just lift my sweater a bit to see them. Here they are: red leather shining. I love you so!

  A minute later, a big black car slowly rolls at my left side, passing and parking a few feet in front of me. The passenger's door opens. A woman is coming out of the car. She seems to be cute but it doesn't matter. All I have in mind is what will happen when I'll be home with my new gloves. The woman is walking in my direction. So what? She's a few feet away. Nice brunette. Her right hand is emerging from the pocket of her black leather coat. The hand is gloved. Well, it's good: one last gloved woman before the end of the day! "Great gloves you have", I almost say. But I'm sure mines are softer. She closes her fist. What is she doing? Her fist flies through the air right to my face. I can see...

  I can't see a thing. And... oh my God! One of my eyes is hurting. The whole right side of my head is plunged in pain. What has happened? I don't remember... The red gloves. I think I've lost them. I think...

  -- Easy, little one. Stay calm.
  -- Where... Where am I?
  -- Somewhere. Safe.
  -- Who are you?
  -- You'll know when the time will come.

  I can't see because I have something like a blindfold on my eyes. I try to move an arm, a leg. No way. I seem to be strapped to a kind of seat. The seat feels like leather. In fact, I'm feeling that sweet and familiar contact under my legs, my arms and on my back. But not on my ass. I must be sitting almost naked (?) on a big leather chair.

  -- What have you done to me?
  -- Easy, I said. We are not going to hurt you.
  -- What? But you've done so before!
  -- That was not me. Please excuse her. She's a little bit rough.
  -- I don't know who she was but when I'll know, I'm going to sue her.
  -- Poor little Steve. You're not going to sue anybody.
  -- You know my name. How do you know my fucking name?
  -- There are many ways to know better someone. Having your wallet...
  -- You're some kind of thief, uh?
  -- No. You are the thief.
  -- Crazy... Tell me your name. You know mine so tell me yours.
  -- Just call me Marie.
  -- And the other one?
  -- How do you know there's another person in this room?
  -- I can smell your perfume... and there's another one. You can't trick me on that.
  -- I'm Edith, says a warm voice.
  -- Now we know each other. Are you the one who hit me in the face, Edith?
  -- N... No! Never. It's...
  -- Shut up, Edith. Now, we're going to talk a little bit, mister Steve.
  -- Ok. Just untie me.
  -- No way. Now shut up and listen. We have a mission for you.

  I'm laughing out loud. This is really some kind of weird situation. So weird that I must be dreaming it. But the pain is real. So I'm not dreaming. I'm in the hands of two crazy women with crazy ideas and God know what they're going to ask me or to do with me. But as I'm tied and stucked her, I have nothing else to do than listen. And try not to laugh.

  -- You will soon realize that there is nothing funny in this situation.
  -- Sorry. You have my attention, Marie.
  -- Good. As I said, a mission awaits you.
  -- You must be someone from the government thinking I'm a spy or something like...
  -- You're just a poor glove lover. It's all I know.
  -- What? What have you said? This is impossible. Are you from Wilsons store?
  -- No. Of course.
  -- Then who the hell has told you I was a... glove lover???
  -- We have a secret informer.
  -- A secret informer? A fucking secret informer? Ha! Let me guess: a beautiful and tall black woman called Maryse Lantier? She has no right to tell everybody who and what I am. She has no right at all! Oh the bitch! Am I going to sue her or what!
  -- Are you done?
  -- No! You're just a bunch of crazy...
  -- Do you want me to call that girl with the steel fist?
  -- No. I mean... Ok. You win. But it's not fair at all.
  -- I never said we were fair: I just said there was many ways to know better someone we care about.
  -- Pff!
  -- Now, you listen. We know you have some thieving skills. And you're adventurous.
  -- Of course. I've robbed many houses, many banks. Fuck! That was just a mistake. That was the first time. I've paid every pair of gloves in my collection except those red ones.
  -- Sure of that?
  -- Maybe the second or third but... I'm not a thief. As you said, I'm a glove lover.
  -- That's why you're here, says Edith. You must know that one of our Queen's Gloves has been stolen. We want you to find it and bring it back.
  -- To what?
  -- You've heard her. We believe the Dark Ones stole the Right Sacred Glove. You must make contact with them and steal back the Glove.
  -- CRAAAAZZYYY! The Sacred Gloves! The Dark Ones! And who are you?
  -- We're called the Heavenly Ones.
  -- Of course. Sure. We hear about you everyday on television.
  -- Don't laugh about us. We are, and there are, more powerful than you think. Don't judge the strenght of a community by the noise it makes. We are smooth operators.
  -- A group like yours have a chance to exist in my fetishist's imagination. But I think I'm not that crazy.
  -- Ok. You need some kind of proof, I suppose. Here we go.

  I hear feel a touch on my right wrist. Then my hand is free from its strap. I'm waiting for my other limbs to be liberated but I get nothing except silence.

  -- Then what?

  A hand suddenly grabs mine. So smooth and soft. It's a small and fragile gloved hand. It is covered by buttery leather. The leather fingers are tickling my palm, fooling around with my own fingers. The caress is so exquisite.

  -- Recognize that feeling, mister Steve?
  -- Well... Very fine leather. But...
  -- Just touch my wrist.

  I just do as that mysterious Marie ask me. The slim wrist is also covered by that same leather. "In what color could those gloves be?", am I asking to myself as the erection comes. Black? Brown? Red as Doctor Lantier's? White as Alicia's?

  -- Climb upward.

  Leather again. My fingers are sliding slowly on Marie's forearm. As they move towards the elbow, all they encounter is leather, ripples and plains of this creamy second skin. So my fingers continue on this inviting road. Arriving to the elbow, Marie slowly bends to make sure I can go further in my exploration. I can't see her but I know she's very near of me. I can hear her breathing, I can smell her exhilarating perfume, I can feel some of her hair on my left cheek. And I'm breathing myself a little bit deeply cause I still feel leather past the elbow. And again and again. Then, miraculously, a smooth rebound comes and I detect the curve of an elbow made of hot flesh, bone and blood.

  -- They are quite long, I say.
  -- Indeed.
  -- Uh... The mission... What was it?
  -- Make contact with the enemy. Infiltrate their group if possible. Know the location of the missing Sacred Royal White Glove and bring it back to the Queen.
  -- And what will I get if I succeed?
  -- We will all be gratefull to you, including of course her Majesty. If you've been effective in your work, she may personally rewards you.
  -- How?
  -- Here's just a little something to help you recognize her power. My friend Edith here is the technical consultant of the Queen. She has learned all the techniques invented by the Queen throughout the years. She's a kind of teacher for the rest of us. You must know that Edith may have the techniques but the Queen can also add the art to all this. Edith?

  I hear footsteps. Then, two leather hands grab my short and lower it. Suddenly released, my hard cock slaps against my belly. A second later, my balls are being asieged by two leather hands. Small and agile fingers search for something through my skin, probing my testicles. Then, one finger finds a spot under and between my balls and press gently on it. Massaging it tenderly. The right leather hand fly to my penis and tickle the underneath of my glans. The torture is so exquisitly irresistible that I feel the pleasure coming in me, fast as lightning. As, I'm loosing my breath, the left hand pulls on my testicles, squeezing them, and the pleasure is gone. Vanished!

  -- Stay caaaalm, says Edith with a charming voice.

  And again she goes, pressing that magic pleasure spot on my balls and trigering a wave of extacy with a swift caress on the back of my glans. The orgasm comes again but she stops it just in time. Edith continues her little game for a few minutes then her hands brutally leave me.

  -- What? Come... come back, Edith! Please finish me!
  -- Maybe...
  -- No, that's enough, says Marie. Now you know what we can do. Imagine what the Queen is capable of. Just complete your mission and everything will be fine for you. Your wildest dreams will come true. As a glove lover, you will reach a paradise of pure passion. Do you accept the mission?
  -- Do I have the choice? Okay! I'm in. Just release me now.
  -- Not at all. You'll wake up in a few hours in your bedroom. Your mission will then begin. Just remember this: The Dark Ones will use their charm on you. They will seduce you with the easy way to pleasure. Fast and easy pleasure. I know men are fond of that. If you fall in this trap, you will be lost. As our Queen. Don't fail.
  -- Yes but... Ouch! What have you done?

  I feel a prick on my left arm. Then, it's absolute silence...

  ... and darkness. As I regain conscience, I realize I'm in a bed. Through the dark, I distinguish a familiar surrounding: I see walls covered with posters, a door and a dart game, a desk with the ghostly head of a computer's monitor. I'm home. As Marie anounced, I'm in my bedroom.
 Again, this question in my head: was it a sick but so beautiful dream? I can still feel some pain near my left eye and on my arm where a needle should have pierced it. I leave my bed, turn on the light and examine my arm. A red pinpoint on my skin. I run to the bathroom. I see myself in the mirror: my left eye is surrounded by a dark halo.

  Near the lavatory, a pair of gloves: the red ones that I've stolen some hours (days?) before. Between the gloves, a pink sheet of paper folded. I take it, read it:

  "Dear Steve, I feel confident that you will succeed in this dangerous mission. What you are about to undertake is of crucial importance. The Heavenly Ones once formed a great empire but the days of Dark Ones have come. We can change this. You can change this. Remember: trust nobody. As we are everywhere, they are too. This message was the last contact between you and us until the end of the mission. Good luck.
  With gloves, your Queen."

 -- God! I'm really into something crazy.