Corsets and Boots: Part Seven
Chapter Thirteen
Anticipation.
"Shane Fury set his foot lightly upon the brake pedal; adroitly
corrected the brief skid, and the open-topped, scarlet Alfa Romeo
drifted, with headlights blazing, across the Piazzetta. A quick flick of
his wrist and the great car slid to a halt, opposite the open doors of
the Ristorante Florian, in the Piazza San Marco. Smoothing his wind
blown chestnut hair with one hand, he vaulted lightly over the top of
the car door and tossed his half smoked cheroot into the Grand Canal.
Miranda Fairweather watched him run up the steps of the restaurant, and
thread his way, with an easy assurance, towards her table. She cursed
herself for her weakness, as she felt a sensuous and totally
uncontrollable inner thrill taking hold of her.
His message had arrived in the usual imperious way; delivered by Special
Messenger; accompanied by a single red rose; and containing, this time,
only the one word "Serenissima," It was his signal - no; his COMMAND,
for her immediately to cease whatever she should be doing; and hurry to
some enchanting and romantic rendezvous, which could well be half a
world away!
The sudden snap of his fingers broke through the confused chatter of
voices, and a waiter immediately abandoned another party of diners, and
ran to obey the summons.
"Shane has that power!" she thought to herself, with a touch of
bitterness. "He only has to snap his fingers, and I run to his side. Am
I his slave, that I should do this?"
He ordered their drinks, which were served with the full measure of
deference considered appropriate to a man of his wealth and high rank,
and a few precious moments slipped by in harmonious and tranquil
silence, as they watched the cosmopolitan tide of tourists flowing
aimlessly across the Piazza; stirring the fat and lazy Venetian pigeons
into brief flurries of startled whirling flight.
She did not - could not know that he had crossed the full breadth of
Europe; driving for thirty six hours without a break to be at her side
on this most memorable of nights, and she listened with divided
attention; studying his handsome, leonine profile, as he gave brief and
clipped details of his arduous struggle over the snow blocked high
Alpine passes. He turned towards her, and, as she gazed at his sun
bronzed face, she could see her own fragile beauty mirrored within his
dark and brooding eyes; those eyes, with their unmistakable invitation
to - Ah, yes - but to what......?"
"......Later that same night; they stole across the dark and limpid
waters of the lagoon; hidden beneath the fringed silken canopy of his
private gondola, and reclining side by side on the deeply cushioned
seat. The sky was a black velvet blanket; pierced with a million
shimmering stars, and the lambent full moon looked down upon the two
lovers, smiling his own tender smile, to show them that he could
understand their many unspoken passions and desires. The lights along
the shore were mirrored countless times; reflected and reflected in the
gentle ripples of their passage; transforming the surface of the lagoon
into a scintillating, multi-coloured symphony of tiny dancing lights.
Borne upon the gentle breeze, the distant sounds of an orchestra came
floating across the water, playing a slow and sweeping Barcarole as if
just for them; and as the Gondolier gently rowed them along he added his
muted voice in a slow melodious harmony; weaving his deep and meaningful
songs of love and romance into their ears.
Hand in hand; minds in true accord; their two hearts beating as one,
they........ CRACK!"
The sudden and unexpected noise caused Dorothy's romantic bubble to
burst, and she came back to earth with a bump as a log cracked sharply
in the wrought iron fire basket. A fountain of sparks scurried and
chased each other up the wide and soot darkened chimney. The flames
flickered with the shock; to rally strongly, and rise cheerfully;
radiating and reflecting their light in the numerous brass and copper
artefacts adorning the old wood panelled walls of the warm and cosy
hotel lounge.
She was sitting on a high backed wooden settle, at one side of the
intimate ingle nook. Lost in a pleasant reverie. Feeling well fed;
comfortable, and contented. Allowing her many disjointed thoughts to
come and go as they pleased; savouring favourite passages from her
romantic books; examining several new words: "..Mrs. Ashton...Dorothy
Ashton; Mrs. Dorothy Ashton.." Her new name...
From under lowered eyelids, she carefully examined her "Husband,"
Another new word "Husband - Husband," She had once read it described as
"A word compounded of a rumble and a thump;" but, to her, it seemed more
of a combination of a hiss and a bang - oddly similar to an automatic
door closing! In any event, it was a new addition to her vocabulary, and
she found it a strange, almost alien word; even harder to assimilate
because she could not yet accept her new role as a "Married Woman"- A
"Wife" - A "Lawful Wedded Wife."
Laurence (Her Husband) was sitting in the opposite ingle seat. He could
not be called handsome, or even good looking; and yet again her mind
flitted back through her collection of books as she recalled some of the
many heroes.
One favourite example was:
"....Over six feet tall; with piercing emerald green eyes."
Or
"....Clean limbed; with darkly handsome features. He had an aquiline
nose; a firm jaw; and strong white teeth."
A single syllable name would be popular; such as Grant, Lee, Brett, or
Kayne; and they always owned open topped, high powered or supercharged
cars; which they drove along narrow and winding roads, with a
".....Carefree finesse;" performing intricate manoeuvres at high speed,
and still managing to keep one arm free, to place around the heroine's
shoulder in a "...Tender, and yet protective embrace," And - of course,
they were all invariably possessed of limitless wealth - which came from
an undisclosed source!
No, she mused; Laurence was fact; not fantasy. He was here; now; "For
Better, or For Worse!" - and that had been a solemn and sobering moment
in the Wedding Ceremony. He was about five feet ten inches tall; with
straight fair hair, almost the same colour as her own; cut fairly short
and parted neatly on the left side. He had a nose that was slightly too
small; and his mouth, in repose, formed a straight thin line. She knew
from experience that behind this serious facade he had a warm and
generous nature. He was certainly tenacious, and once set upon a
definite course steadfastly refused to be diverted. It was as though he
had adopted a stern look; either to disguise his true identity - or as
some form of defence mechanism!
At this particular moment he seemed both worried and apprehensive; and
her thoughts went back to the day he had first entered the shop. He had
exactly the same look on his face then, she remembered, with slightly
humorous reminiscence. Sort of "Wary" - that's the word! As though he
was not sure what was going to happen next; but was poised for flight,
in case it did happen! He looked anywhere but at her; and his fingers
drummed ceaselessly upon the woodwork of the ingle seat. Their
conversation had not been running smoothly for the past half hour; and
the few remarks that passed between them were irrelevant, and without
any context.
Dorothy collected her stray thoughts; picked up her handbag, and said,
shyly:
"I'll go up now, love. Will you give me a few minutes to get ready, and
then come up."
She walked across to the reception desk; feeling as if everybody was
looking at her, and in a low voice asked for the key to the Bridal
Suite. The young man at the desk handed it to her, and seemed to be
giving her a conspiratorial glance. She turned and walked through the
opened doors of the lift; selecting and pressing the correct button,
before turning again, to watch the automatic doors close. As they drew
together (With a slight hiss, and a bang) she had just enough time for a
last glance into the lounge, and she felt herself colouring slightly.
She was right - everybody in the room was looking at her!
Arriving upstairs, she walked slowly; almost reluctantly towards the
Bridal Suite; and after a slight struggle with the door key; unbalanced
as it was by its heavy metal identification tag, let herself into the
room and carefully closed the door. She stood for a moment, with her
back and her hands pressed against the door; studying the various
furnishings and becoming conscious of a strange feeling of loneliness
and isolation.
Her eyes became drawn - hypnotically - towards the bed; which seemed to
be gigantic, when compared to her own little bed at home. She had moved
into her parent's double bed when Laurence came to live in the flat, but
even that bed seemed small by comparison with this one. It was a full
four poster; with heavy supporting columns of dark and hard wood, deeply
carved by the hands of a master craftsman into intricate patterns and
scrolls.
The bed was a heavy unit, and was obviously of great age; with a diamond
panelled, polished wooden headboard; and topped with a full wooden
canopy, with further bands of decorative scroll work around its outer
edges. As a striking contrast the tied back curtains and coverlet were
new; and the material was familiar to her because there was something
very similar in the stock back at the shop. Basically a pale cream
colour, and liberally decorated with a gay pattern of small flowers.
The bedclothes had been neatly turned down in readiness for them, and
Dorothy selected and moved towards her side of the bed; pressing the
mattress experimentally and standing for a moment as if she was deep in
thought. In some strange way it felt different to her own bed, and was
not as springy. Her suitcase was on a stand near the door; and when they
had arrived she had immediately unpacked a few of her things; hanging
them carefully in the big wardrobe, but leaving her nightdress hidden in
the suitcase to await this moment.
She had taken the greatest care over the choice of the nightdress, which
was of finest cotton lawn, in a delicate shade of peach; buttoning
demurely to the neck, and having satin ribbon at the waist and wrists.
She had a matching negligee, trimmed with delicate lace; but was saving
that to wear in the room tomorrow. Like the heroines in her romantic
stories, she wanted to be wholly seductive and totally irresistible on
this one and only special night, and she felt sure that this delicate;
this - practically transparent wisp would help her to create the desired
effect.
She eased her shoes off; placed them neatly together in the bottom of
the wardrobe; slipped her feet into a new pair of light and fluffy
mules; and began to undress with care and precision; first taking off
her jacket; then her skirt; and hanging them both carefully on one of
the hangers in the wardrobe. She unbuttoned her blouse; examined it,
shook her head, and transferred the blouse to her suitcase. In one
smooth movement, she crossed her arms, and lifted her slip up over her
head; draping it carefully over an upholstered stool at the side of the
bed.
She bent and turned to unfasten her suspenders, and then sat on the edge
of the bed; rolled her stockings down her legs, took them off; gave each
one a sweeping shake, and draped them over the stool. With easy
familiarity, she unlaced her corset; took it off, rolled it loosely,
placed it on the stool, and spent some time wriggling pleasurably and
running her hands over her body.
Wearing only her mules, and a pair of plain white satin briefs, she
crossed to the big mirror and subjected herself to a critical scrutiny.
Her skin was smooth and delicate, with the glow of health about it; her
waist moulded to a tapering slenderness, with only the faintest of
marking from the contact with the bones of her tight corset. She cupped
a hand under each of her small, round, firm breasts; lifted them
slightly, and was pleased with the general effect.
Finally satisfied; she turned from the mirror, opened the wardrobe door;
took out a dressing gown; put it on, and walked into the bathroom,
carrying her small bag of toilet articles. A short while later, she
returned, and the smell of perfume and powder wafted behind her. She
removed her dressing gown; hung it in the wardrobe; took off her briefs,
placing them on the stool, and then stood naked for the merest of
moments, before donning the gorgeous nightdress, and once again studying
herself in the mirror; turning this way and that.
It was perfect! Revealing, and tantalising! - Everything that she had
hoped for. She quickly ran a comb through her hair; then, settling
herself on the bed; slid her feet beneath the sheets; rearranged the
pillows, to make it possible for her to sit up; and, after disposing
herself to create the best impression, spent a few moments analysing her
feelings. She had done all that she could, and was now, as she had so
often read in her romantic books, 'Ripe for seduction.' It only remained
to see if Laurence could live up to her personal expectations! She
waited, poised and expectant, for him to come to her. Her hands were
clasped together on top of the folded sheet, and the beating of her
heart seemed to echo round the room!
She tensed as the door handle rattled; the door opened, and Laurence
entered. He stood looking at her for a few moments, but to her surprise
his face remained expressionless. She waited for some glad reaction; but
to her deep dismay his eyes did not 'Light up' as she had anticipated.
Instead he turned away; picked up the key, and locked the door. Surely
this must be the moment for him to say:
"Alone - at last!"
He maintained his silence, and his expression was grim as he walked
across the room; unbuttoned his jacket; took it off - and dropped it
carelessly on to a chair.
Dorothy stiffened.
He wrenched at his tie; pulled it, still in a loop and partly knotted,
up over his head, and tossed it on to the dressing table.
Dorothy twitched.
He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt; dragged the shirt over
his head, together with his vest; and dropped both garments, still one
inside the other, in a crumpled heap on top of his jacket.
Dorothy's nose wrinkled with distaste.
He was wearing slip-on shoes; and, putting one foot behind the other;
levered the right shoe off his heel. With a quick and expert flick of
his leg he sent the shoe skittering across the carpet; to rebound off
the wall and come to rest under the dressing table. Another flick;
another thump, and the second shoe joined the first; beneath the
dressing table.
With increasing concern, she saw him unfasten his trousers and let
gravity pull them down around his ankles. He stepped out of them; and
without bending down, scooped them up from the floor with one foot;
kicked them into the air, caught them neatly as they cartwheeled through
the air, and made a rough attempt at folding them; before finally
dropping them on top of the other garments on the chair.
Wearing only his corset, underpants, and socks, he walked to the
dressing table; opened a drawer, and took out a cellophane packet;
leaving the drawer open. He ripped open the packet; tipping out two
garments and a sheet of cardboard; dropped the empty packet into the
drawer and slammed it shut; shook out the garments, and revealed a
highly decorative pair of bright acid green and multi-patterned chain
store pyjamas. He took these and disappeared into the bathroom, while
Dorothy waited; surveying the general disorder and confusion, and musing
about ways of making him change these disgusting habits; which she found
so offensive to her own neat and orderly nature.
She listened; attempting to identify the many sounds associated with the
running of water, and cleaning of teeth; until he returned; now wearing
the green pyjamas and carrying a small bundle of clothing. He dropped
the clothes on top of the heap as he moved towards the bed, and
throughout the entire procedure had not uttered a single word.
He sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her for a few moments;
and then, as if making up his mind, quickly slid both legs into the bed;
pulled up the sheets; snapped out the light, and lay in silence on his
back.
Dorothy waited for several minutes, expecting him to say, or do -
SOMETHING! - ANYTHING!!
The waiting stretched on - on, interminably; and still he did not move
or speak.
She slid out of her own warmed place and across the cold sheet between
them; reaching out her arms to hold him; but he tensed; flinched, and
pulled away from her!
"What is it, dear?" she whispered anxiously. "Is there anything wrong?"
There was a long pause before he answered:
"No, love. Just tired, I think. It's been a long day."
The words came out in a flat, hopeless monotone, and his voice was
devoid of all expression.
She waited a little longer; adopted a seductive voice, and tried again:
"Don't you want to hold me, Darling. Close - you know; like you usually
do?"
His voice was tense but controlled, as he replied:
"I'm sorry, love; but somehow it's not the same."
Dorothy sadly moved back to her own side of the bed, and lay quietly
worrying to herself:
This was not the way it was meant to be!
What had gone wrong?
Where had she failed?
Why was he like this?
He was normally so kind and loving.
He had said how much he longed to hold her!
Why had he changed - so suddenly?
And then - a terrible thought!
Something she had heard about; but had never fully understood:
Was he - was he - IMPOTENT?
She turned towards him once more; hoping that he would unbend; but he
showed no sign of relaxation and still continued lying on his back;
stiff; staid, and remote.
At last, in despair, she turned away from him and tried to compose
herself for sleep. It was no use; sleep would not come; leaving her
close to tears, and clenching her hands tightly so as not to give way to
her feelings altogether. They both had a miserable and uncomfortable
night; and if one did fall into a short and restless sleep, it was only
to suddenly wake up again as the other made an incautious move.
**
Laurence was up and about well before the dawn, and Dorothy; still
miserable, lay in bed listening to his movements; running the taps;
flushing the toilet, and making a series of noises that were new to her.
It had been acceptable at the flat, because there they each had their
own rooms and a degree of privacy. It was different in this room, and
his very proximity was having a strangely unnerving effect on her.
He eventually came back into the bedroom, now fully dressed; drew the
curtains partly back; and stood in silence, gazing out at the dark
waters of the lake and the hills beyond.
Dorothy tried to speak as though she had just woken up:
"What time is it, dear?"
He turned from the window, and said, in a low voice:
"I don't know, love. It's early, I think. I'm sorry if I woke you, but
I'm afraid I couldn't sleep last night. I never sleep well in a strange
bed."
This was his longest speech since entering the room the night before,
and she wondered if it might herald the first signs of him thawing out.
She asked:
"Do you think we could have breakfast in our room?"
He replied, readily:
"Of course, love; if that's what you want. I'll ring down for it,
shortly."
He seemed to be much more friendly, so she tried again:
"I know there was something wrong last night, dear. Can't you tell me
what it was?"
He stiffened; and she could immediately feel all his barriers being
raised against her.
He spoke quickly, as if trying to fend her off:
"Not now love. Later on - if you like. When we're both up and dressed.
I'm just going for a stroll by the lake. You try and get some sleep and
I'll call you in time for breakfast."
He took the key; unlocked the door and hurried out.
Dorothy lay in bed for a while in a brown study. If only she knew what
was wrong! Laurence had certainly seemed more like himself this morning.
She decided to have it out with him at all costs; and did finally manage
to fall into a fitful sleep.
She was woken by the sound of the door opening. Laurence came in,
smiling somewhat diffidently, and said:
"I've arranged our breakfast. They'll be bringing it up shortly - if
that's all right?"
Dorothy nodded, and just said: "mm."
Laurence drew back the curtains; opened the newspaper he was carrying;
moved to a window seat and began to read, until he was interrupted by a
light knock at the door. He crossed the room; opened the door; a maid
came in carrying a breakfast tray; and he smiled his thanks as she
placed the tray upon the table.
Dorothy rose from the bed; walked into the bathroom; and upon returning
opened her suitcase; took out the lovely negligee, and put it on. She
knew it did wonderful things for her, but Laurence just glanced at her -
and carried on reading! She was piqued, and more than a little puzzled
at his strange lack of reaction. There was always a scene like this in
the books she liked to read, and a few phrases came to her mind:
"He bayed like a hound! - and ripped the delicate silk from her creamy
shoulders...."
Or:......
"He breathed quickly; and she knew in that moment that he was consumed
with a deep and passionate longing for her! His voice was vibrant with
his yearning as he hissed, through clenched teeth:
'My God! - You're Beautiful!'
Her senses reeled, and she almost swooned.
She felt as light as thistledown as he tenderly lifted her in his strong
arms, and........"
Laurence did no such thing; and it seemed that, in spite of her efforts,
as far as he was concerned she was about as attractive as a cold rice
pudding!
They breakfasted with but little conversation, and when they had
finished, Dorothy said: "I'll just get dressed, and then we can go down
by the lake. It looks a lovely day; is it warm outside?"
Laurence replied that it was, and she continued:
"You can go on down, if you like; and I'll meet you in the lounge, when
I'm ready."
He sat quite still, and said:
"No, really. There's no hurry. I'll wait here."
She walked into the bathroom and continued her preparations; removing
her negligee and nightdress, and then, with an impulse that was born of
sheer frustration returned to the bedroom.
She moved across the room until she was standing directly in front of
her husband; looking down at him; using every atom of her personal
magnetism; willing him to look up at her, and desperately hoping that
the sight of her slim waist and totally naked body might provoke him
into showing at least some slight indication of passionate arousal.
He completely ignored her!
There was no reaction.
No spark of interest.
Nothing - Absolutely Nothing!
*****
Chapter Fourteen
Realisation.
Dorothy was Despondent.
Thick heavy brooding black depression weighed her down; as she realised
that all her romantic books were wrong, wrong, wrong! She had never
expected to be "Crushed against his manly chest!" or "Smothered with his
hot and passionate kisses!" No; because that kind of story was
altogether too extreme. But, surely Laurence should have noticed her -
perhaps even admired her; and yet, he had acted almost as if she did not
exist.
She had always understood that the marriage of two people was meant to
be a Joyful Time. A Happy Time. A time of delight; of discovery; of
sharing; of - "Coming together!" The word "Honeymoon" had suggested
other words; like: "Rapture;" "Elation," or "Ecstasy!" Many of her books
had described how wonderful the "Wedding Night" would be; expressing
with a wealth of highly coloured detail the full depth of love and the
unending happiness that newly wedded couples would be sure to enjoy.
There had never been the remotest suggestion of a situation like this;
and it left her with the disagreeable feeling that she had been cheated;
or drawn into a trap; and it was most unpleasant.
Deeply unhappy; and without knowing or caring what she was doing; she
set about the tiresome daily chore of dressing; picking up her corset;
unrolling it; wrapping it around her waist, and fastening the front
busk.
Laurence immediately dropped his newspaper on the floor; jumped to his
feet; and moved to stand behind her. His voice came huskily, from deep
in his throat:
"Darling; please let me help you."
The bitterness of rejection still burned deeply in her inner soul; and
she felt a strong urge to lash out at him - to repay him for his callous
lack of interest. It was on the tip of her tongue to say, waspishly:
"Don't be so silly! Go away, and leave me alone! I can manage by
myself."
SHE STOPPED!
Her World Stood Still!!
And then - Suddenly; like a brilliant beam of eye searing and crystal
clear light;
Realisation and Understanding burst upon her!
So - That Was It!!
Her Tightly Laced Corset!
The Only Missing Ingredient!
Of Course! - Of Course.
What a fool she had been!
Such a simple solution to her problem, after so much heartache!
She knew about his lifelong interest in corsetry and tight lacing, and
had told him that she did not object. He had on many occasions left her
in no doubt about how much he longed to look at her in a corset; and yet
she had always felt the strongest reluctance to expose her partially
clothed body before their marriage, in case it should provoke any
unknown and possibly unpleasant consequences. But now - it was
Different! She wanted to please him; and if it meant that she could only
please him by KEEPING HER CLOTHES ON! then; She Could Please Him; and
here, now; in this very room, she had all the means at her disposal!
"Of course you can, my Darling, if it will make you happy. This is my
everyday one. Will it do; or would you like me to put on the one I wore
for the Wedding? I brought it with me, in case you wanted to look at
it."
He had a moment of indecision as the vivid mental picture formed again:-
Her tiny waist and her almost ethereal beauty, as she came floating down
the aisle towards him......
He jerked himself back to reality:
"Not now, love. No; let's keep it for a special occasion.
After all, you want to be comfortable when we go out, don't you."
She completed fastening the front clasp, and the hooks and eyes below;
and then wriggled, to settle the corset into a comfortable position.
"Go on then, my dear," she invited, "I'm sure you know what to do."
He nodded, as if he found it difficult to speak:
"Don't let me hurt you, will you," he croaked.
"No dear; of course not," she assured him.
This was not the same as the other fittings he had done. This was
different. This was Dorothy - his own Dorothy! He moved towards her, and
the words burst out:
"Look, love. I'm sorry about last night...."
She broke in, urgently:
"Laurence, dear; it's all right. I understand - now. Please - lace me
up."
Her words seemed to cut through him; touching his heart; as with
infinite tenderness he took a lace in each hand and started to pull;
slowly - very slowly; squeezing the maximum enjoyment out of each and
every movement.
"Do you like that, my Darling?" she breathed.
He replied, excitedly
"Yes - Oh Yes! Oh, my Dearest; I've wanted this for so very long. More
than anything else in the world."
"Go on, then," she encouraged; and he worked steadily; carefully
tightening the laces up to her waist. Then he moved above her waist and
worked downwards; moulding her body to a wonderfully slim silhouette. He
paused for a moment, and asked:
"How's that?"
"Fine," she replied. "Now, just pull my waist in. Go on - tight as you
like!"
He took up the laces again; braced himself; and was just about to pull -
hard; when she stopped him:
"Wait a moment, Darling. I've had an idea!
Let's use the bed; I'm sure it's ready and waiting for us."
He failed to understand her meaning; so she walked across the room; put
her arms around one of the huge columns of the bed; taking a firm grip.
And then he understood! She was right - of course she was right! The old
and massive bed must have been used for this purpose, many times, in
years gone by. History was repeating itself!
"I'm ready, my dear," she said. "Go on, please. As hard as you can."
He took the laces again, and pulled. He paused, and she drew a breath.
"Go on. Tighter - tighter!"
He used all his strength; the corset closed around her; and, prompted by
some mysterious force he placed one knee in her back and pulled again -
hard.
She squealed as the two edges met and the corset fully closed. He
quickly knotted the laces; being careful not to let them loosen in the
slightest; and then put his hands on her tiny waist in the way that he
always loved to do; saying, in a voice filled with mixed passion and
desire:
"Oh Dorothy, my Darling. I love you. I adore you. I worship you.
Oh! - how I want you!"
He kissed the back of her neck, and she revolved slowly between his
hands. He kissed her lips; and their bodies seemed to fuse into one. He
led her to the side of the bed as if to lift her on to it; but she said:
"No, my dear - No. Not now - Please! I know how much you want me; and,
Oh, I want you! But, my Dearest. Look at the time! They'll be coming in
to do the room before long, and I really don't want us to be
interrupted. Do you think you can possibly wait until tonight - and then
I promise I will show you what I really can do!"
She suddenly became practical:
"Look love; let me finish dressing; and we'll go out."
He waited; watching her with great interest, as she put on her briefs
and slip; rolled her stockings up her legs, and carefully suspendered
them. She chose a pale blue jumper, and a tweed skirt, belted at the
waist; and put them on; drawing the belt as tight as possible, and
looking at him for approval; before finally lacing on a pair of flat
heeled and comfortable walking shoes. She carried a matching blue and
loosely fitting cardigan, to wear out of doors and perhaps help to hide
her tiny waist from the unwelcome gaze of others. They went down in the
lift; left the Hotel; crossed the road, and walked down to the side of
the lake.
Throughout the day Laurence was tenderness itself; and could not do
enough for her. They spent much of the morning strolling by the lake, or
feeding the ducks; holding hands, and chatting happily. They had tea and
sandwiches in the garden of a small cafe; looking at each other most of
the time; paying scant heed to the food - and absolutely no heed to the
ignorant people at adjoining tables, who would insist on constantly
staring at them!
In the afternoon they decided to take a rowing boat out on the lake.
Laurence rowed slowly and competently, and Dorothy was happy just to
watch him and to trail her hand in the water. She awoke from yet another
pleasant reverie, and remarked:
"You row quite well. Where did you learn?"
"In the Army," he replied. "We rowed cutters - eight of us at the oars;
somewhere on the river Severn. It's a nice part of the country. We might
go there one day."
She agreed with his suggestion, and began musing about the future;
filled with happiness now that they had overcome the awful
misunderstanding of last night. She turned her mind to ways of adding to
the many pleasures that only she could give him.
She would...!
Or - then again; she might...!!
Perhaps she could even......!!!
Yes! That was certain to give him the greatest pleasure of all!
Laurence broke in on her thoughts:
"It's time we were going back. How do you feel about dinner?
Would you like anything special?"
That caused her to think again. Their first meal at the hotel had been
delicious; they had enjoyed every course, and it had been so beautifully
presented. She thought it might not be wise for her to have a heavy meal
on this occasion, because of the surprise she had planned for Laurence;
and she replied:
"No thank you dear; just something light.
Do you think they do a nice salad; I could enjoy that."
They returned to their room in the hotel, and rested side by side on the
bed for a while, until Laurence remarked:
"I feel a bit hot and sticky, after all that rowing. I think I'll have a
bath."
"Good idea;" replied Dorothy. "I'd like one, too."
"Right, then," he offered. "You first; off you go."
He continued to lie on the bed; watching her avidly as she carefully
undressed in her customary precise way. She enjoyed a leisurely bath;
and when she had finished he took his turn in the bathroom. After they
were clean and dried, they first laced each other into their corsets;
then dressed in their best clothes; and finally went down in the lift
just in time for dinner.
They lingered over the meal; afterwards moving into the lounge; sitting
by the window and chatting quietly as they looked out over the placid
waters of the lake. When it was quite dark outside, Dorothy said:
"I think I'll go and get myself ready for you, love. It might take me a
little longer this time, so will you give me about twenty minutes,
please."
Once she was alone in the Bridal Suite, she quickly undressed and spent
a short time in the bathroom; soon walking back smelling of perfume and
powder again. She took the wedding corset out of her suitcase and
unrolled it on the bed; remembering how Freda had helped her to dress on
her wedding day.
After a long session of painful pulling and tugging, Freda had
protested:
"It's no use, love. It's still a bit open at the back, but I can't get
it to close any more.
My hands are hurting. They're all red and swollen, and the laces keep
cutting into them."
By their combined efforts they had just - but only just, managed to
fasten the many tiny hooks on her mother's wedding dress; and even then
she had moved down the aisle with the greatest of care, in case the old
and delicate brocade should give way.
She studied the corset with professional detachment. Laurence did not
know it had belonged to her mother, and she recalled the story: How the
girls at the factory had made it as a special present for her mother to
wear on her wedding day.
It was beautiful!
A copy of a garment that the factory had first made in 1885, when tight
lacing was at its most severe. It was a harmonious mixture of strength
and grace; made of fine ivory white satin, with a heavy and pre-formed
front spoon busk. It had very strong laces, which were black; making a
striking contrast to the white satin; and the inside of the corset was
fully lined with rich, crimson, watered silk.
It was boned with a wealth of closely stitched and cunningly fashioned
whalebone; which the girls had been able to salvage from the sadly
depleted stocks at the factory. The men had rescued and repaired one of
the old copper steam moulding figure formers, long since consigned to
the museum. Several retired and elderly workers had been persuaded to
come back to the factory, and give the benefit of their vast experience;
and all the Staff had combined their various skills so that the finished
corset would be perfect in every way.
The whole of the shaping was a masterpiece. From the delicate strip of
black lace around the top, the closely stitched boning swooped down, and
tapered in to the unbelievably tiny waist. There was a stronger band of
black satin round the waist, carefully curved and shaped so that it rose
to a sharp point at the front and back, but was much narrower at the
sides. Below the waist the corset flowed outwards over the hips, with
numerous fluted black panels inserted to give the necessary fit and
line, and adding to the striking effect of the black against the ivory
white. There were no suspenders, but just another delicate and matching
band of lace around the lower edge, and the whole garment had been
shaped with loving care and a lifetime of experience. A small blue
silken bow was partly hidden beneath the topmost layer of lace. The
girls had sewn it on as a finishing touch to give the "Something Blue,"
traditionally worn at weddings for luck.
She picked up the corset, and held it close to her body for a moment, as
memories of her mother came flooding back. After her illness Mummy had
become so much a friend; taking more time away from the business and
being so helpful with the "Facts of Life," and other things that a girl
ought to know about. She had always insisted that Dorothy should "Save
her body for her Husband;" and another of her maxims had been:
"Go to your man on your Wedding Night, my dear, and try to give yourself
to him gracefully. You must know that it can be painful if the man is
hasty; or - worse still, should he be of a brutal nature. Always
remember that if your husband is a patient and gentle man it can be the
most exquisite moment of a girl's life."
She pondered:-
What would it be like?
Would it hurt?
Surely Laurence would be gentle.
Could they share the pleasure?
She abruptly tossed her head, as if she was trying to restrain the
thoughts that were flooding in; wrapped the beautiful corset around her
body, and fastened the busk with practised fingers. She gave a short
series of wriggles until everything was settled comfortably; and, with a
few deft movements adjusted the laces until she had a firm and close,
but not tight fit. Laurence could do the rest! She put on her
nightdress, and arranged herself on the bed as before; clenching her
fists for a moment and then relaxing; thinking to herself:
"Now - let him come to me."
At that moment, Laurence entered the Bridal Suite. He looked at Dorothy
as she sat up in the great bed, and he could see the black and white of
the corset through the diaphanous material of her nightdress.
Immediately his eyes "Lit up;" and in a voice choked with strong
emotion, he said:
"Oh, my Darling, my own true love. You are so good - so wonderful, to do
this just for me."
Suddenly he became all action; locking the door, and hurriedly starting
to undress. He tore all his clothes off, and dropped them in a ragged
trail of confusion, right across the bedroom floor! ("Oh, Laurence!")
He stood stark naked, facing her, and she could not fail to see that he
was rapidly becoming physically aroused.
She held out her arms to him:
"Come to me, Darling. Come and hold me."
He ran across the room; jumped into bed; flicked out the light, and
moved close to her, with his arms encircling her hard, stiffened body,
and tiny waist. He murmured sweet endearments into her ear, and she
could feel her senses arousing to match his.
"Oh, my love; my love;" he murmured. "My treasure; no man deserves to be
as happy as this. My dearest, I want to be part of you; to combine with
you."
"Come to me, my Darling;" she invited. "Take My Body; Now! Take all of
me. I am yours, and only yours."
She positioned herself in readiness to receive him.
He moved to place his body above hers, and paused for a moment.
Tenderly, he asked:
"Now, my love?" She replied with the same words:
"Now, my love," And then; as he was finally poised to enter her; she
pleaded, quietly:
"Please - my Dearest - be gentle."
She felt him touching her - searching for her; and she moved a little to
help him enter her body for the first time, and, oh, so slowly. There
was a sudden moment of stress; a sharp and tearing pain; and she choked
back a cry that rose in her throat. He maintained his steady pressure;
pierced the veil, and she could feel him moving more easily; sliding
deeply within her secret and innermost depths.
He touched a hard and tiny point of stimulation at the very core of her
body, and she became aware that each of her senses was being heightened;
giving her a feeling akin to deep internal effervescence! All at once
all her emotions began to bubble; until, like a myriad coruscating
multi-coloured stars, they burst forth, and, with her mouth against his
ear, she gave a cry of purest ecstasy! He was startled; and moved as if
to draw away; thinking that he might have hurt her; but she begged:
"No - No, Dearest. Stay there, please."
He waited; lying quite still and holding her tiny waist; trying to
compose his thoughts and make this wonderful moment last. It was no use!
Her smallest movement served to stimulate his desire, until he, too, was
irresistibly carried along on a tide of uncontrollable emotions; and
with a strong surge of joy; he released a flood of elation deeply within
her.
They abandoned themselves to a prolonged interlude of pleasurable
enjoyment as they shared the many new delights, both given and received;
remaining closely locked together until the first passionate emotions
began to subside, and he was able to take his weight on his elbows, and
rest for a while. Still deeply within her, he let his hands move towards
her small breasts; caressing, holding, and squeezing them gently. She
moaned, and moved beneath him. He kissed her on the lips, and then on
each breast; and she moaned again, holding him tighter.
"Oh, my precious;" she sighed ecstatically. "That was wonderful;
wonderful! Did you enjoy it as well?"
"I did, my Dearest;" he replied. "I never thought it could be quite as
wonderful as this. Are you all right with me inside you; or do you want
to rest?"
She left the decision to him:
"Stay there, if you can, dearest; or rest if you want to. Do you think
we can do it a second time?"
"I don't know if I can;" he said. "I think it will take some form of
really strong stimulation to rouse me enough to manage anything like
that again."
"Then let me see if I can help you;" she offered.
"Put the bedside light on please."
He withdrew himself carefully; rolling over and switching on the light.
They lay for a few minutes, blinking at the sudden brightness, until
Dorothy looked at him with her eyes shining:
"Did I tell you this was Mummy's corset?"
He shook his head; and she told him about the care that the girls had
taken over it. His hands roved freely over her body as she spoke; and he
feasted his eyes on her. She gave him her sidelong look, and said,
ingenuously:
"Freda tried to close it on my wedding day; but she couldn't manage it.
You are so big, and so strong. Would you like to try and close it for
me, now - so that I may know how Mummy felt."
He was spellbound; and could only nod, dumbly. With a sudden movement
she sat up in the bed, swinging her legs to the floor and standing up.
She removed her nightdress, and, dressed only in the corset, fully
revealed herself to his fascinated gaze. She took up a classic pose;
with one hand resting on the post at the end of the bed and the other
hand on her bosom, as though she was beckoning him.
He found her invitation impossible to refuse.
Turning, and taking a tight hold on the column of the bed; she looked at
him over her shoulder, and using her deepest voice breathed seductively:
"Come on, my Darling. Do it - now. Just to please me."
He rose from the bed, and moved to stand behind her; placing both his
hands lightly upon her waist in his favourite position; and saying,
thickly:
"Let me just hold you a moment longer, Darling. I've never been able to
look closely at a real whaleboned corset before; and it looks as if it
was made for you."
He stared and stared; drinking in every detail, as if trying to engrave
it permanently on his mind; until, at last, sated, he asked:
"Are you ready, my dearest. May I lace you in?"
She replied, eagerly: "Yes, dear; please do."
He untied the knot, and began to adjust the laces above and below her
waist; pulling as hard as he could, and closing the corset even more
firmly about her. She held on grimly to the bed column; stifling a gasp
from time to time; and he asked with sudden concern:
"Are you all right, Darling? Can you still bear it?"
She could not help herself gasping:
"Is there much more?" He looked carefully, and replied:
"If we can draw the waist in another two inches, it will be fully closed
all the way up. But - my Darling - are you sure you can stand it? I am
so dreadfully afraid of hurting you."
"......As he spoke, she became acutely aware that his hard body was
pressed closely against hers, and she could feel his manliness growing;
urgently; massively; and sensed the throbbing of his mounting desire for
her. She knew, then, what she had to do!"
Bravely, she begged:
"Dearest; make it tighter; much tighter. Pull - Pull; as hard as you
can! It must be fully closed!"
And then she clamped her mouth firmly shut; her lips sealed; determined
not to cry out - however hard it might be!
She clung to the bedpost in dogged desperation, and as her head twisted
in her travail she suddenly saw him in stark detail; reflected in the
mirror across the room. He had a determined expression on his face, and
his mouth was set in a hard grim line. The black laces were wrapped
several times around his strong hands, and he was leaning back with his
legs braced. The muscles of his strong arms bulged as he pulled,
powerfully, making him look exactly like the "Mythical Beast" in one of
her childhood picture books:
A Unicorn - Rampant!
The corset drew her waist in still further, and she felt the increasing,
crushing, pleasure pain.
Would it never end?
Laurence gave another heave, and a piteous bubbling wounded cry welled
up; but she choked it down! And then; happily, the deed was done, and
she was able to let out a shuddering gasp of relief.
Laurence securely tied the laces, and she clung to the bedpost for
support; swaying uncontrollably until he steadied her by placing his arm
round her shoulder in a tender and yet protective embrace. Her bosom
heaved as she fought for breath, and in short gasps, with a voice that
was both tense and eager, she asked him:
"Tell me - my Darling. Have I done it? Do I - Do I - have I - a hand - a
Hand Span Waist?
Try and - try and span me!"
Laurence tenderly put his hands upon her tiny waist, and he had no need
to squeeze. His fingers slid over the smooth and slippery satin; the
fine ribbing of the closely stitched whalebone rousing him to new and
untold heights of yearning and desire for her. His two thumbs touched at
the front; and his two index fingers met beneath the knot of the laces
at the back, and he completely and easily spanned her waist!
"Oh - Oh - my Dearest. My adorable Darling. My own, so very precious
true love!" he exulted. "You wonderful girl. You have done it! A Hand
Span; a genuine hand span! You have made all my dreams come true. No man
deserves to be as happy as this!"
His strong hands closed around her waist; gently squeezing her. She had
never known such exquisite pleasure, and she released a long drawn out
sigh of purely delicious ecstasy:
"A-A-a-ah! Oh - do that again - Please!"
Once again, he gently caressed and squeezed her, and she revelled in the
feeling of completely unashamed sensual gratification.
He suddenly bent, and carefully lifted her light and unresisting body;
carried her across the room; and placed her gently upon the great bed.
She gazed up at him, wordlessly; willing him to come to her.
He knelt above her, his hands about her waist; she could feel him
stroking the smooth and slippery satin; and there was a powerfully
electric tingle, as his hands slowly slid upwards towards her bare
breasts. He gently squeezed both her breasts; and she made a deep,
purring, pleasurable sound. His head came down - slowly; and his mouth
closed around the hard nipple of her left breast; kissing it; and making
her whole body thrill to the unprecedented stimulation. He moved to her
right breast; taking the nipple in his mouth; stroking it - fondling it
with his tongue, until she could stand it no longer! She twisted and
thrashed beneath him; crying out in the exuberance of her craving for
him:
"Now - My Darling! Now!"
"Come to me - Quickly!"
"Oh! - Be Quick!"
"And when he came towards her she felt herself being lifted and borne
away, on silent gossamer wings....."
"........He nestled within the tender cradle of her encircling arms; and
she could feel his arrogant pose of cruel; flint-hard, male dominance
shredding; dissolving and melting, into the softer marshmallow of a
youthful; and almost childlike innocence. The full measure of his desire
was totally exposed, as he pressed himself upon her; fumbling and inept
in his hasty eagerness..... She yielded to him; gladly; in a sudden
flurry of surprised and rapturous delight.
Although it seemed impossible; this new arousal of her passion was more
violent and uncontrollable than before. A surging and gigantic, tidal
wave of purest exaltation built up; climbing higher, and yet higher;
curling above her in slow and ponderous majesty; feathering at the edge;
breaking at the crest; and then crashing irresistibly down upon her!
Flooded; inundated with an overwhelming chaotic delirium of unique and
novel sensations she felt herself becoming buoyant and weightless;
carried along by a host of powerful cross-currents which swept and
washed over her; moving and playing with her; whirling, rolling and
tumbling her helplessly to and fro.
The motion eased; slowed; and gently receded in a long drawn out hissing
and ever diminishing series of delightfully sensuous ripples and tenuous
eddies; to blend and meld into serene peace; contentment; and the warm,
comforting afterglow of a lingering, delicious internal memory.
She lay quite still; breathing slowly, with her arms wrapped tightly
round his body, and they were united as one. He moved, as if to withdraw
from her; but she quickly flexed and contracted her pelvic muscles;
restraining him - gripping him - holding him; firmly imprisoned in a
warm, powerful embrace; physically drawing him even more deeply inside
her; as she strove with every fibre of her being, to make the celestial
experience last for ever and ever....."
"In that golden, triumphant, moment of fulfilment,
her heart sang; and her cup of happiness brimmed full,
and copiously overflowed."
Dorothy slowly let herself relax; re-living the glorious moments again
and again; and when she had recovered a little, she said:
"Now, Dearest; it's your turn. Let me try and do the same for you."
To her surprise, he gave a dry chuckle:
"I'm afraid it's already happened, love. You took all that I had, that
time; and I think it coincided with your climax; whatever, or whenever
that was! I'm not sure; but, oh my dear, it was a heavenly experience. I
feel completely drained of all emotion. Nothing in my life has ever
equalled this, and nothing can."
He lay within her; and they savoured each other; breathing deeply and
slowly unwinding; until, he carefully and gently withdrew and lay beside
her; pressing himself closely against her corseted body. His hands moved
over her, stroking the tight and rigid material, and he encircled her
tiny waist yet again. All his waking thoughts and all his dreams had
been made to come true, by this wonderful girl, on this fabulous night.
"I'm sure I must have been too heavy for you," he said, apologetically.
"Not at all," she assured him. "You were very tender and kind."
"Can we do it again?"
"What shall we try next?"
She waited for a few more minutes but there was no reply; and she about
to suggest an interesting variation when Laurence let out a slight
snore. She looked at him with a wry smile, and; conscious of a job well
done; gently removed herself from between his hands; carefully rose from
the bed; unlaced her corset, and once again put on the lovely
nightdress. She eased herself back into the bed; put out the light; and
there was a short pause. She turned on to her side; gave a small
contented sigh, and began the descent into drowsiness; spiralling into
the sleep of deepest unconsciousness; and down, down, ever down to a
totally satisfied and dreamless oblivion.
**
They were startled awake by the loud buzzing of the bedside telephone;
to discover bright sunlight streaming in through a gap in the curtains.
Laurence groped for the receiver; grunted into it; and a polite voice
enquired brightly:
"Good Morning, Sir. Do you require breakfast in your room today?"
Confused, and only half awake; he said, stupidly:
"Yes - No. What time is it?"
A pause; and then he sat bolt upright in the bed:
"Good Lord! Sorry! No; we'll come down right away."
Dorothy stirred, and asked an unintelligible question.
"We've overslept, love," he said, wryly.
"Better jump to it; I think they want to clear the tables."
They made a hasty toilet, and dressed quickly. Fruit juice and coffee
soon performed miracles of revival, and they left the restaurant and
went to sit in the lounge. Laurence suggested:
"I thought we might go off on our own, today. Perhaps we could take the
van for a tour around the other lakes. How does that sound to you?"
She gave him a ready assent, and shortly afterwards, they set off.
They pottered slowly along leaf strewn lanes; between dry stone walls;
pausing now and then to look at a lake, or a magnificent panorama of
craggy hills. There was little of the bustling holiday traffic at this
late time in the season; the roads were quiet; and they continued their
wandering with no particular objective in mind, until they found
themselves outside an Inn, in a remote valley, bounded on all sides by
steep crags and stony scree slopes; sweeping down to the dark limpid
depths of a narrow lake.
After a leisurely lunch, they found a quiet spot on the lakeside and
away from the road. They left the van; walked a little; talked a lot;
threw stones into the water and played "Poohsticks" on a little wooden
bridge over a stream. A very happy couple; both fully satisfied with
life, and wanting nothing but each other. The sun began to lower, and
they slowly walked hand in hand back to the van; watching the shadows
lengthening and still enjoying the pleasant period of harmonious and
connubial rapport.
Dorothy broke her tranquil silence as they drove to the hotel.
"About last night - I've been thinking."
Laurence replied, in an ironic tone:
"So have I - frequently!"
She laughed:
"No, Silly. I don't mean it like that! I was thinking about you, and
wondering if there was any way I could give you the same pleasure that
you gave to me. It's just a pity you don't have a special corset of your
own. It would have been nice for us both if I could have laced you into
it; like you did for me."
There was a short pause before he replied; and then he spoke
tentatively, as though uncertain of her reaction.
"I wasn't too sure how things were going to turn out, so I've been
keeping quiet about this. It's something I have had in mind for some
time; but I'm still not sure whether it was one of my best ideas.
However; I decided to take a chance; and, not to put too fine a point on
it, I have one that was made specially for me. It's here; in the back of
the van. It will be the first time I've seen it, let alone tried it on,
and I'm not sure if I can manage on my own, so I brought it with me in
the hope that I might be able to persuade you to help me with it."
She replied, willingly:
"My Darling; of course I'll help you! Don't you know how much it pleases
me, to know that I am the only one who can do this for you.
Where is it? What style is it? I can hardly wait to look at it!"
He restrained her, saying:
"It's in a parcel in the back of the van. I don't want to hold up the
traffic in this narrow lane, so let's wait and save the pleasure until
we are in our room."
They went upstairs to the bedroom, and Laurence hung a large "DO NOT
DISTURB" notice on the outer handle and securely locked the door. He
handed a long brown paper parcel to Dorothy and she carefully unwrapped
it; to reveal what appeared at first sight to be two similar corsets;
although when she laid them side by side on the bed she could see that
one was larger than the other.
For all her experience, she had never seen any corsets quite as
elaborate as these. They were made in a strong brocade material. The
larger one was the lightest colour of blue, with the smaller one being a
delicate shade of lemon yellow. The styling was completely new to her,
and the metal boning had been set in a complicated pattern of sweeping
curves with individual bones crossing and re-crossing over each other.
The waist was small, and the front busk was wide, flat and totally
rigid; resisting all her attempts to bend it with her hands. The
straightness of the front meant that the fullness of the corset was
mainly at the rear, above and below the waist. It was in every way a
wholly magnificent piece of structural engineering; and she studied it
closely, in a mood that could only be described as one of reverential
awe.
"Oh, my Dearest," she declared, in a hushed tone;
"It's marvellous! Is it another of your designs?"
He had to admit: "No, I can't claim that, exactly.
You know the straight fronted one in our latest brochure?"
She nodded, and he continued:
"I based that on an original Edwardian straight fronted model, and then
modified it a little to make it less rigid, and more saleable. Gerald
called one day, while you were at the hairdressers, and we had a long
discussion about the Edwardian era and its influence on corsetry. I told
him what I had in mind; he did a little research with some help from his
museum curator, and then had these made at the factory. He sent them as
his Wedding Presents to us. I think you will find, if you care to check,
that they are both copies of a rigid and straight fronted Gibson Girl
corset! One for you, and one for me. What do you think of them?"
She was delighted:
"Oh - They're lovely! I can't wait a moment longer. Can we wear them
right away. Do please try yours first, and I'll help you; and then you
can do the same for me."
They both undressed, and Dorothy first put on her dressing gown and
mules. She picked up the larger corset; unfastened the busk; loosened
the laces; and handed it to Laurence. He clasped it around himself, and
she gave him a little help and guidance as he began to draw in the
laces. After a while she took them from him, and dealt with the finer
adjustments; saying:
"There you are, Darling; just the waist now. Can you manage?" He took
the laces and began heaving manfully, as though showing pride in his
strength; pulling hard, until he almost succeeded in closing the corset.
Dorothy voiced her approval, and tied the knot for him. The strong and
rigid corset made him lean forward as he walked across the room to look
at himself in the mirror, and his physical arousal was swift. He turned
to Dorothy, and asked:
"My love; can you take me; now?"
"But, my Dearest; I'm not dressed for you, yet," she protested, but he
hurried on:
"It's no use; I need you, right now. Quickly, please."
"Of course, my pet," she murmured, consolingly. "Come on then," And so
saying, she lay naked upon the bed and composed herself to receive him.
He entered her; thrusting with almost ferocious eagerness! Deeper still
he went; deeper than ever before, and she felt, in her turn, a new and
even greater depth to the arousing of her passion and longing for him.
He gave a sudden cry, and, all too soon, was spent.
"Oh, my Darling," he whispered. "How can you be so good to me?"
And the only reply she could think of, was: "Because I love you so much,
my precious."
He gently lifted himself from her, and they both rested for a while;
talking about the new corset. Laurence stood up, walked over to the
mirror and continued his study; turning to examine himself from every
angle. Dorothy watched him, and asked:
"How does it feel to have a straight front; is it any different?"
"The fit at the waist is quite good," he replied. "There is some
pressure against my breastbone and my pelvic bones, which might make it
a bit uncomfortable for long-term wear, but apart from that it's quite
pleasant. It alters my whole balance, and makes me feel rather top
heavy.
I feel as if I ought to be wearing a pair of high heeled shoes; or
perhaps even some long boots.
I think it needs something like that to help complete the effect.
How about you; are you ready to try yours now?"
"mm; yes please," she replied eagerly. "What size is the waist?"
"I asked them to make it eighteen inches," he said.
"But that was before I knew what wonderful things you were capable of."
"Then it should be quite easy for me to put it on by myself," she said,
and paused:
"But of course, you'd like to help me; wouldn't you?"
He answered eagerly: "Yes please, love."
She wrapped the corset around herself; fastened the busk, and Laurence
stood behind her; adjusting the laces until she was firmly held. He
paused at that point and enquired:
"Are you quite sure you're all right, dearest? I'm just afraid it might
be asking too much of you, this time. I remember you telling me about
your mother; and how her whole shape was changed when she started to
wear one of these.
I love you just the way you are; and I don't want you to change."
She hastened to console him:
"I know what you mean, but please don't worry. Can't you see that this
is another chance for me to experience the same sensations as my mother.
I want to do it; and not only just for you. You know I will always wear
whatever you want me to wear, but this is going to be just for me.
Now then; would you like to tighten me up, or would you rather watch
me?"
He answered: "Honestly; this time I would like to watch you, and perhaps
I can help you with the final adjustments."
So Dorothy began to lace herself tightly. She would normally have made
her usual series of quick and practised movements; but now, she worked
slowly; trying to give Laurence as much pleasure as she was able. The
corset closed more firmly around her; the front busk causing her to lean
forward, with the boning holding her rigidly as her shoulders and hips
were forced backwards, giving her the true straight fronted Edwardian
silhouette.
Laurence sat on the edge of the bed, drinking in her every movement,
until, at length she turned to look at herself in the mirror. After a
close examination, she asked:
"Now, dear. Please close it, and knot it for me."
Laurence took the laces; tightened them firmly, and tied a knot; putting
his hands upon her waist in his favourite position. His senses were
being roused again, and Dorothy could not help but notice his eagerness
as he tried to speak in a normal voice:
"How is it, love. Do you like it?"
Still facing the mirror, she replied: "You know; I'm not sure, this
time. You were quite right; it does alter my balance, and it presses on
me in different places. Frankly, my dear; I think I would prefer to be
my normal shape. But, what about you; do you like to see me like this?"
She turned to face him, and it was immediately obvious that she had
asked an unnecessary question! She could see beyond doubt that she
really had aroused him, this time. She felt as light as thistledown, as
he tenderly lifted her in his strong arms, and gently laid her upon the
great bed.
She had just time to utter a short "Ooh!" of anticipation, before he
pressed himself upon her.
They combined and united into yet another frenzy of ecstatic passion and
desire; moving together along the pleasant road of discovery and finding
many new and delightful surprises around every corner. At last, in a
mood of true and wholesome love, they slowed and paused, sharing an
interval of harmony and understanding. Dorothy murmured softly into his
ear:
"Oh, Darling; that was more than an experiment, wasn't it?"
He nodded in agreement, and she went on:
"After consideration, I don't think I like this one, as much as my own;
but of course I'd be quite happy to wear it for you, any time you want
me to; now that I know what it does for you!"
He considered her words in silence, before giving an opinion:
"No; you're quite right; it was nothing more than an interesting
experiment. I do prefer you with the Victorian shape; it looks more
natural on you. I want to say something else, and it has to be cleared
up once and for all; then we both understand. When I first came into
this room, on our Wedding Night, and saw you waiting for me; I knew I
should have been overcome with desire - like any normal man. But, I
wasn't; there was nothing there, and I felt so as