Corset Retaliation

Laura and Kay hugged. Kay's hand dropped to my shrouded head. She leant over me as Laura put on her trench coat and flipped up her hood.

"Carol," she whispered in my ear, "If you change to ordinary pantyhose you won't have a bulge. The ones you are wearing are too small around the waist. They cause you to bulge when you needn't. Sorry."

I was furious. All I needed to do was wear ordinary pantyhose? If I had I wouldn't be Laura's helpless prisoner. I blinked as Laura wheeled me out into the courtyard. It was still raining. I was protected from the rain by the nylon as Laura blithely drove me along the High Street.

"Now for a tour of your favourite places," she said loudly.

Soon we were in the town's largest department store. Laura wheeled me through the displays with aplomb. She positioned me beside an advert for some of their fashions. I wondered what she intended. She took the camera from my sports bag hanging from the wheelchair's back and looked through the viewfinder. She came towards me with a determined look on her face. I knew that look. Laura was about to do something she shouldn't.

She removed the nylon hood and unfastened the scarf hood under my chin. She whipped it and my wig off in one swift movement exposing my fair hair and gagged mouth. She stepped back and the camera flashed. She looked around carefully before removing the scarf over my lower face. The ball-gag must be clearly visible. Another flash. She rushed forward and covered me up again before anyone could see that I was gagged and pinioned.

In the depths of the lingerie display she went further. She unzipped the whole nylon coverall to show me in my lilac dress strapped to the chair.

She repeated the process in the men's underwear department. I hoped that the store's security cameras weren't recording my predicament. That is when I remembered. Peter was this store's security manager. If anyone saw how helpless I was: it would be him.

Back out into the rain. Laura took me on the scenic tour of the town. My humiliation was recorded at almost every landmark the town has. She had to reload the camera twice. The rain made Laura's photographs possible. Any people around were hurrying past under umbrellas and ignored Laura and the wheelchair.

Back in the High Street Laura wheeled me into the Chemists where Sheila works. She found Sheila who turned white as she saw us.

"It isn't?" Sheila hissed at Laura.

"She is. Sheila, meet your fellow conspirator and bridesmaid. I don't think that Carol has enjoyed this afternoon."

She shielded me with her open trench coat as she showed Sheila how trussed up I was. Sheila gasped as my wig and scarf came off.

"Now for your part." Laura whispered fiercely. "If you don't want to end up like Carol, get these films developed and printed for me. Don't show them to anyone and bring them to me as soon as you finish work. You will, won't you, Sheila? You did it for Carol. Now do it for me."

I saw Sheila nod nervously.

Laura covered me up again.

"See you later, Sheila," she said in a normal voice as she drove me away.

She wheeled me into her house as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do. She had done it often enough with her grandmother. Inside she took me through to what had been the granny annex. It was as bare as a hotel suite and as impersonal. The furniture was modern and utilitarian.

"Peter and I intend to make this a student flat," Laura announced in a normal voice.

"It won't have the double bed." She added as we entered the bedroom. The double bed had brass rails at its head and foot.

"Now you can stretch out."

She gradually released me from the wheelchair and propped me up. After she had unbuckled the straps from my ankles she helped me to shuffle across to the bed and carefully lowered me. Once I was safely on the bed she removed the wig, the hood, the scarf over my mouth, and unzipped the lilac dress. She inched the dress up my body and over my head.

I was a passive spectator. The control slip and corset held me in their fierce grip. I could move my legs below my knees once the circulation returned. All I could manage was to lift my feet about six inches from the bed. Laura watched my movements with amusement.

"If you are good, Carol, I will remove the ball-gag. Are you going to be good?"

I nodded fervently. Laura shut the door. It closed with a thud.

"It doesn't matter if you scream or shout. Granny was very deaf and used to have her television or radio turned up as high as they would go. The walls and doors are soundproofed and the windows are triple glazed with heavy curtains. No one outside the flat could hear you so don't bother trying to deafen me."

I nodded to show I understood.

Laura unbuckled the ball-gag and eased it out gently. She stroked my cheek as I swallowed.

"How much do you remember of what you did it me at the Hen Night?"

"I remember that we left you handcuffed until the end," I said cautiously. It hurt to talk. I swallowed again to moisten my mouth.

"How drunk were you?"

"Laura, I honestly don't know. If the hangover was a guide I must have been plastered."

"You were. I couldn't believe what you did to me." Laura sounded sad, a more in sorrow than anger sad.

"What did I do that deserved this?" I asked quietly, dreading her answer.

"That will have to wait until Sheila arrives. She was involved. She has to suffer. Not as much as you. It was your idea, not hers. She should be here soon with those artistic photos."

Laura paused.

"Did you know she developed and printed the photos of the Stag Night?"

I shook my head.

"She didn't say anything, or show you any of them?"

"I didn't know there were any. Sheila didn't say a word."

"Good. They embarrassed Peter. That is how I met Kay. The ushers had hired her to do her stuff on Peter. Peter thought she had the photos and asked me to try to buy them from her. He thought she'd listen to me. She did. She was horrified at the idea that there were photos in existence. Sheila's brother had taken them with a high-speed film without flash and asked her to develop them. When she saw the prints she refused to give them up. When Peter told me who had taken the pictures I confronted Sheila. We met at Kay's and burnt the prints and the negatives. I couldn't understand how Sheila, who had been so sensible about the pictures of Peter, could be so insensitive a couple of nights later with me. The answer was you, Carol. You had the idea and persuaded her to help. If she hadn't been drunk, and if you hadn't been drunk, you wouldn't have… I nearly said ‘dared'. That's not the right word. You wouldn't have tortured anyone as you did me. You had lost any sense of responsibility. What Kay and I have done to you today is much less than you did to me and you don't even remember. That hurts."

"I'm sorry, Laura."

"I know you are. I know the real Carol is my friend, or was. I'm not sure now. At the wedding you were great, everything a bride could want from her chief bridesmaid. I didn't think you could be like that if you had known what you had done a couple of nights before. On the wedding day you were the Carol I knew and trusted. That night…"

Laura started to cry. What had I done at that Hen night? I didn't know.

The doorbell rang. I jumped, or rather my feet twitched, all the jumping I could do.

"It's a repeater bell so that we could hear the front door even if we were with granny." Laura explained, wiping her tears away. "That'll be Sheila with the photos. Your ordeal will soon be ended."

When she left the room and shut the door I couldn't hear a sound until she opened it again to bring Sheila in. Sheila had shed her coat and was wearing her white overall dress. Laura closed the door behind them.

"As you can see, Sheila, Carol can speak now. Say hello, Carol."

"Hello Sheila," I said quietly.

"Hello Carol," she replied.

"Sheila, please help me get that control slip off her. I think she finds that it controls just a touch too much."

They struggled with that slip even when it was unzipped. As it peeled off my legs the relief was wonderful. My legs were free. I was still a helpless prisoner with my arms trapped in that strangling corset yet I wriggled my legs with delight.

My delight was cut short. Laura fitted the ball-gag back in my mouth.

"Sit down here, Sheila," Laura ordered, patting the bed.

Sheila sat.

"You have a choice, Sheila. If you are willing, Carol's ordeal can be over in the next quarter of an hour. If you aren't, she will be trapped in that corset all night long. Are you willing to help her?"

"Laura, I don't understand. How do I help Carol?"

"If you endure something like this," Laura waved a hand at me, "for a quarter of an hour then I will let both of you go and we can be friends again. If not, you can go now, leaving the photos, and Carol will be trussed up all night and you will have to be careful that something like this might happen to you when you don't expect it. Understand?"

Sheila still looked puzzled.

"If you take some punishment now for what you two did to me at the Hen Night then it will be over, finished, dead. I will have had retribution. You will both be forgiven and we can forget that night and move on, still the friends we were and still should be if you two hadn't got stupidly drunk and went too far. Now do you understand?"

"Yes, Laura. And yes, I agree. I don't know what we did. I do know we hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm sure Carol is too and would say so if she could."

"She has. But neither of you know what you are sorry about. If you are ready, Sheila, please strip to your bra and panties."

Sheila stripped reluctantly. Under her uniform dress she had a white half-slip. She dropped it to the floor and stepped from it.

"Now you too will wear the control slip."

Laura held it. Sheila eased her legs inside. Laura pulled it up covering Sheila's arms and settled the shoulder straps. As she pulled the back zip higher I watched Sheila react as the material clung tighter and tighter. Once the zip was closed, Sheila was nearly as helpless as I was. Laura lowered her to the bed beside me.

Sheila turned her head to look at me. I couldn't warn her as Laura brought another white ball-gag over her head from behind and silenced her. Sheila writhed as helplessly as I had. Laura pushed her flat on her back and knelt on the bed between us.

"Now some explanations to you two formerly drunken bitches are in order. Once you had handcuffed me and poured drinks down my throat and your own, you pulled my panties off."

Laura's hand went up under Sheila's control slip. She heaved and struggled before the panties were below Sheila's pinioned knees and off over her feet.

Laura turned to me.

"I can't take yours off but there is a convenient flap that opens."

She pulled at the corset's gusset. I felt cool air around my pussy.

"And these panties move aside."

They did.

"You then forced my panties in my mouth and tied them there with my pantyhose. I think the ball-gags are an effective substitute. So far I might have regarded it as harmless if insensitive fun. The next part wasn't."

She rolled us both face down. I felt her hand spread my pussy lips and she forced a hard object inside. I recognised a dildo. Surely we hadn't done that to her?

I heard her working on Sheila. That control slip made her task much more difficult. She was panting when she had finished.

"Then you turned it on."

She switched the vibrator on to full power. Even inside that corset I jumped as the sensation hit me. Sheila's was turned on moments later.

I had to strain to hear Laura's final words.

"Then you left me alone, with that damned thing buzzing away inside me, for a whole quarter of an hour. I'm leaving you two for exactly that time."

I heard the door thud. I was screaming into my gag before a minute was over. The agony of being stimulated so strongly yet unable to move was incredible. I was racked with orgasms that continued even though I begged and pleaded into my gag that it should stop. I'd do anything to make it stop. I couldn't control my legs as the spasms followed each other. Faintly I could hear Sheila whimpering into her gag. I barely recognised the sounds I was making.

I didn't hear Laura come back into the room. She stopped Sheila's vibrator first and withdrew it. When she stopped mine all I could do was sob as best I could. When our gags were removed we sobbed and cried loudly.

When eventually we stopped crying Laura had released us. We couldn't move from the bed until she helped us up. We sat hugging each other as Laura went into the kitchen and made us coffee. She had to hold our cups as we sipped. We were shaking too much.

"I left you two for only five minutes," she said eventually.

Sheila and I looked at each other horrified at what we had done.

"I had to lubricate myself liberally before Peter could make love to me on our wedding night a week later."

What could we say?

"I've retaliated with corset control. Carol had hours of it. She'll feel the aches and bruises for a week or more. You, Sheila, should recover in hours. Now do you know why I wanted revenge?"

We did. We held each other tight and howled together. The three of us spent the night wrapped in each other's arms, afraid to let go in case we lost the comfort.

Eventually Laura forgave us properly. I even had her as Matron of Honour at my wedding. She and Sheila protected me at my Hen Night.

I took Kay's advice. I threw those pantyhose in the rubbish. After a few weeks dieting there was no trace of a bulge, no matter what I wore.

The corset and control slip? Laura gave them to me. I keep them in the back of a drawer as a reminder never to drink too much. Laura might set me up again. I hope not.