Snow on Marcellus

Through the upper points of the wings, the lower points, and the middle points were pierced thick o-rings. These o-rings were so that while Snow was lying down on a bed a bungee chord attached to a carabineer could be hooked into each o-ring on one wing and attached to the matching o-ring from under the bed by another carabineer. But the o-rings looked like adornments. Only Marcellus would know why they're there. When Snow showed up at his shop he led her into the dressing room where there stood a very strange covered figure. Marcellus swiped the cloth away from his creation and Snow squealed. She asked if the dress was really for her. She walked up to the dress and ran her fingers along one of the middle o-rings.

"And what about these, Marcellus? What are these for?" she asked. Marcellus was inflamed.

"Put it on and maybe I'll show you," he said carefully. Snow, continuously looking at him, took off all her clothes and stood before him in bare feet.

"Can you help me into it?" she asked, both shyly and boldly. Of course he could. He slipped the dress over her head, adjusted the hem so that it was just so, he corseted her tiny waist as she held on to the column in her dressing room just like many woman had before, but never one of his creations, one of his designs. Only Snow. And now this design. He carried her upstairs to his simple home and laid her down on his queen sized bed. It was a traditional four poster canopy bed made of mahogany, stained darkly. The posts were intricately carved. The entire bed itself was raised higher than a normal bed. The bedcovers were red with gold jacquard and the mesh fabric of the canopy was thin and light and swayed with the smallest of Snow's or Marcellus's gestures. It matched the gold of the duvet cover.

"Is this where you live, Marcellus?" Snow asked.

"That it is," replied Marcellus, getting to work on his bungee chords. He could barely fit under the bed. Snow could feel herself being pulled piece by piece into the comforts of the mattress. Marcellus came up from under the bed and straightened his hair. Snow smiled at him. Marcellus had black satin ribbons in his nightstands. Snow smiled at his preparedness. She gave her wrists willingly to him. He started to tie one, paused, and looked at Snow. Snow nodded. Marcellus carefully tied each wrist to each corresponding post. He positioned her legs, one slightly more bent than the other. He adjusted the skirt of the dress so that it draped over Snow's lower body just so. He arranged the locks of her hair. He squeezed her by the jaw, pressed her cheeks together. He kissed her like this, sweetly, deeply. Snow kissed him back. Sweetly. He climbed up onto the bed and gazed upon his creation. She was perfect.

He carefully and exactingly pulled Snow's skirt up. He folded the dress over itself until Snow was exposed from the waist down. He turned her legs to face him. He put her feet on his shoulders and moved his head down below, between her legs. He began kissing her all over at first, but then his tongue would press at the surface of his lips as well and he would get a little lick in along with his kiss. These licks became longer and longer until Marcellus was fully exploring each and every crevice of Snow's pussy. He licked symmetrically, twice on the left side of the inner labia, twice on the right side, thirty seconds on the top of the clitoris, thirty seconds on the bottom.

"Keep your feet on my shoulders," he said and he raised his head up to Snow's face and kissed her again. This time more savagely. Snow could taste her pussy on Marcellus's mouth. Her feet were high in the air on his shoulders. He unzipped his pants and pulled, with his left hand, Snow's labia open. He was more self-confident this time. He pressed himself into her and Snow let out a moan. This position, this angle was most agreeable for her. Marcellus began to pound into Snow hard, but only once every three seconds or so. She longed for more. She writhed beneath him, circling her hips around on his cock, pushing her shoulders together, exposing one breast. Snow became very wet and with every thrust Marcellus became more lubricated. He ran his hand down Snow's rear and stuck his finger in her ass. Snow arched her back as best as she could. He could see the effects of his thrusting on Snow. Her chest muscles became strained from the restraints to which Marcellus had tied her. Her breasts shook even higher than the corset could push them with every thrust. Her voice broke.

Marcellus pulled out momentarily and began pressing his way in to Snow's ass. He could feel Snow actively relaxing for him. She felt compelled to. He lowered himself to be near to her face, pressing Snow's feet nearly at her ears. He kissed her again and he felt the circumference of his head enter her ass. He pressed into her slowly but firmly until he was all the way in, feeling the slick lubrication of her pussy on the walls of her ass. Snow let out a slow, low, deep throated groan. She felt herself being filled up. Her eyes closed halfway in the corners. Her body became limp except for her hands, which were pulling Marcellus closer to her, further into her. Marcellus moved smoothly in and out of her until he came, letting out a loud, strained noise, as if he was picking up something very heavy.

He delicately pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and placed it under Snow's ass, so as not to mess the dress. He took her feet by their ankles off his shoulders and placed them together to one side of him. He carefully tucked in his shirt and buckled his pants' belt. He untied Snow's wings and her wrists and lied down beside her. He kissed her face and her neck, her breasts as she lie there on her back, still unable to move much due to the size of the wings affixed to her back. Marcellus stood up and picked Snow up and placed her onto her feet. She threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped his around her hips. They did this in silence. They walked down the stairs and back to the fitting room in silence. Marcellus helped Snow out of the dress and back into her street clothes. He carefully packed the dress in a big white box with red tissue paper and placed it in a large paper bag with handles for her.

"I'll come in to take pictures for your website next week," Snow said and she left his shop once again. She was so mysterious, Marcellus thought. How had she come up with the twelve hundred for that corset? What did she do for a living? Just how old was she? He would have to learn the contents of her mind and the specifics of her life next time they saw each other. Snow came in the following Tuesday with her fancy digital camera. Marcellus noted it.

"Do you have any lights back here?" Snow asked, looking around for the perfect backdrop. "Contruction lights would do."

"Yes. Yes. I have those. They are right here," obliged Marcellus and he pulled out two lamps on high adjustable stands.

"Those'll be perfect," said Snow, excitedly. "Where's your computer? I want to show you what the site looks like so far."

"I don't own a computer, I've never needed one."

"Well you do now. We'll just have to remedy that," said Snow, arranging the corsets out of order, moving tables and sewing machines. This made Marcellus anxious.

"What are you doing, child?" he asked, exasperated. "There is an order to things!"

"I'm making the backdrop to your corsets. Trust me, it will look fantastic. Don't worry! I'll put everything back just right," she said, leaning into Marcellus, running her hands along his neck. The front door chimed. Marcellus cleared his throat.

"I have to work," he said, going up front, unsuccessfully straightening up his hair to find the new Mrs. Buckingham waiting for him there. She wanted another corset. Something wilder this time. Something sexy. Marcellus thought this was the perfect time to show her his collection of corsets but Snow was back there. Would she be jealous at the possibility of him making another corset for another woman? No. Snow wasn't like that. He led Mrs. Buckingham into the backroom and showed her all of his corsets.

"Pardon the disarray. We're gathering pictures for my new website," Marcellus said proudly. At that moment Snow emerged from behind a bookcase holding a corset and some feathers. "This is Snow. She's helping me with my website," he said and he turned his back on Snow so that she may continue working. He loosely put an arm around Mrs. Buckingham and began discussing each corset with her. She decided to try on three of them. Snow had to listen to the sounds of Mrs. Buckingham exhaling in the next room. Snow stayed busy with her picture taking. When she was done, she returned all the furniture to its original positions and left, walking through the fitting room to get to the front door, catching a gimpse of that intimate moment of Marcellus lacing Mrs. Buckinghams corset, Mrs. Buckingham in only her ruffled underwear and the corset. Snow left. Marcellus paused a moment, thought maybe he should go after her, then thought, "Of course not," and continued cinching Mrs. Buckingham's near perfect proportions. He found himself wishing she were Snow. Snow had perfect proportions. He stopped again to wonder if he shouldn't have gone after her. "Of course not."

He spent the next week working on his newest creation for Snow. It was the darkest of purples, to match her hair. It was a ball gown with a straightjacket for the top. The straightjacket had a low square neck line and ample boning in place to ensure the flattening of the chest within the dress, and the over voluptuousness with which the breasts would pour out the top. The fabric was again a silk satin, very thick. The sleeves were longer than that of a regular straightjacket, so they could be tied the usual way and then a bit lower, down across the thighs and tied together behind the knees with ribbons at the ends. This tying served a duel purpose. It further restricted the wearer to their walking and it accentuated any bit of hourglass figure a woman had. The skirts were multi layered and of varying lengths and heights cut at angles. Marcellus made a sleep mask to match this dress, which tied in thick black ribbons on the side of her head to serve as a blindfold. When the dress was finished, three weeks later, Marcellus called Snow. To his surprise she was not upset with him. She was happy to hear from him. The website was almost done. It looked great, she said. She couldn't wait for him to see it, she said. Since Marcellus did not own a computer he'd have to meet Snow at her place. In Ferndale. He'd have to drive.

Marcellus, out of his element, out of the comfort and safety of his shop knocked on Snow's door. She answered wearing a black mini skirt and a black Type O Negative tee-shirt. All this black made all the skin she was showing seem all the more fair, white almost. He wanted to run his hands along her porcelain skin, to feel it give way to his touch despite its hard outer appearance. But he was there for another purpose. To look at the website. He had to keep his mind clear.

"So let's see this site!" Marcellus said, overly excited.

"Relax. Would you like something to drink? A beer? A water?"

"What kind of beer?" asked Marcellus

"Dogfishead. Raison d'etre," replied Snow.

"You sure know how to pick a beer. I would love one of those."

"Have a seat on the couch," called Snow out from the kitchen. "My laptop's set up on the coffee table." Marcellus just had to sneak a peek. The whole site had a black background with tribal designs in purple all around. "Get yourself acquainted with the site. I'll be right there. Glass or bottle?"

"I'd love a glass if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"Glass it is." Marcellus found the captions, "Discriminating corsets for the discriminating corset owner. Finely tailored by one of the best tailors in the Detroit area." He scrolled down to find pictures of each corset with sewing machines and sewing dummies draped beautifully in the background.

"I know for some reason," said Snow bringing Marcelus his beer, "you want to remain anonymous. You could hand deliver the corsets. The customers would never know where you shop is. And as for the out of state orders, you could use a phony name, or a second business name."

"A second business name..." pondered Marcellus. "A Firm Grasp," said Marcellus, thinking about all the times he'd laced women into corsets.

"Perfect. A Firm Grasp it is!" said Snow excitedly and she furiously began punching keys on her laptop. Finally she showed Maarcellus the final product. "A Firm Grasp" was written across the top of the page in an arching motion. Underneath it were Marcellus's anonymous credits. Below that was picture after picture of Marcellus's corsets. When one clicked on a corset they got a 360 degree view of it.

"Now all we have to do is set the pricing."

"I don't know. They're all so priceless to me."

"You sold the purple one to me pretty quickly" said Snow. And they began the tedious processes of setting prices of each individual corset. Marcellus had to take into account the amount of detail put into the corset, the amount of embellishments, the fabric that was used. This was going to take another beer. This time Snow had one as well. When the website went live they leaned back on the couch, hands behind heads, proud of their accomplishment.

"You know what's next?" asked Snow.

"Dare I ask?" asked Marcellus.

"Don't be silly. You need a computer. So you can keep track of your sales. I'll help you get one. It's only 1:30, the stores are still open."

Marcellus was warmed by Snow's devotion to him. He wanted nothing more that to take her in this devoted state. He wanted to take this devotion for his very own and devour it. He leaned onto her on the couch so that he was laying on top of her.

"I made you another dress," he said, heaving into her neck.

"Oh yeah? What kind of a dress?" asked Snow.

"A far more restrictive, disorienting dress.." Marcellus was rubbing himself along Snow's body. His belly was significantly smaller as he'd stopped eating seconds at dinner and ordered a treadmill installed in his living room, which he used regularly.

"That sounds exciting! When will I get to wear it?"

"I have plans for all that. But for now, I have plans for you."

"Oh yeah? What sort of plan?"

"I'm going to take you into the bedroom and have my way with you." Marcellus led Snow by the hand gently to the bedroom. He carefully unzipped her skirt and took off her tee-shirt. She was wearing a purple scalloped edge bra with beige trim and matching g-string. He unlaced her boots as she sat on the bed. He removed her underwear carefully, excitedly, dutifully. Marcellus was still dressed

"I have gear," said Snow and she walked into a corner of the sparsely decorated bedroom. She opened her chest full of gear and Marcellus was shocked by how much was in there. He pulled out wrist and ankle restraints and carabineers and affixed them to the appropriate body joints. He clipped the wrists to the posts of Snow's headboard just above her head. He then pulled her up severely by her ankles and clipped them as well to the headboard. Snow felt severely constrained. Marcellus looked back, to see the position he had created. To see the pussy protruding from between Snow's legs. It was tight. Tight outer labia, tiny inner labia, pink. He ran his hands down her legs from the restraints at the bed down to her ass and pussy, touching them on the surface only. Only awakening the outer senses. Her legs were slender but muscular, and slanted inwards just at the hips. He closed his eyes and imagined the soft dress she had dropped off for him to alter, how soft it felt between his fingers. Her skin was softer than the finest fabric, he thought. She was fully exposed to him. He could play with her as he liked. He felt excited by this gift, this display before him, at his disposal to touch, caress, play with, fuck as he wished. He was glad he'd taken her order that first time she had entered his store. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers along her slit, noting the moments when Snow inhaled a little breath or writhed a bit in her constraints. Her pussy was sensitive. It jumped to his touch. Her ankles were clipped far apart, so her legs were open. She was splayed. The sweet and salty smell of her sex filled the air. Marcellus climbed in between her legs and onto her shoulders. He'd never been so far above another woman. He'd never felt such a sense of power before, his cock near her mouth. He held on to the top of the headboard and slowly began fucking her mouth. She resisted at first, but Marcellus moved in and out slowly, shallowly, so as to gain her trust and she relaxed her throat. As soon as he could see that Snow could take his depth he'd move in deeper and deeper still until he was nearly gagging her with every thrust, fucking her with every bound of the bed. He could hear the saliva moving around in her mouth, choking forward every time she gagged, he saw spit drip down his shaft as he pulled out. Just as he sensed he was going to come he pulled out, trails of saliva led from his cock to her mouth and fell upon her chin. He climbed off her and kissed her mouth deeply. He wanted to taste his cock in her mouth. She kissed him as though she wanted to give him that flavor, transfer it all into his mouth.

He trailed his soaking wet cock down her body, down her throat, down the straight line of the top of her breast and the curved line of the bottom of it, down her stomach, over the extra bit of fat that surrounded her navel and pressed himself into her pussy. She felt his head slide around her labia and make its way inside of her. She felt him pound into her, not like before. Harder. Faster. More self assuredly. He was still holding on to the bars of the headboard. He was breathing rhythmically. Snow was breathing irregularly, unsure of what was going to happen next. Marcellus was completely self-absorbed in his fucking, fucking the way that felt good to him, not caring about Snow's needs. But Snow seemed to enjoy these movements and cried out in pleasure, she grinded back into him, she stole glances of his cock pumping in and out of her. She tried to meet Marcellus at his thrusts but she was so confined by her position there wasn't much she could do but lie down and receive her fucking. Marcellus starting grinding into Snow, running himself along her clit with each thrust. Snow let out howls and moans. It was at this point that Marcellus put his left hand around Snow's perfectly white throat, obstructing her breathing slightly, bending her neck, and then slightly more, until Snow could barely breath. She felt all her senses heighten, she felt the surface of her skin swell and become hypersensitive. She felt her pussy become engorged and more sensitive. Marcellus braced himself on Snow's neck and began grinding into her harder, faster than ever. He was single minded now. He could sense the beginnings of convulsions trembling in her body and he exploded, Snow exploding with him. Marcellus went home and clipped off his comb over. He bought a computer the next day.

Marcellus looked like a completely different man now. Bald. His forearms and shoulders were strong. His belly almost completely gone. Time had creased his face some but he was sleeping well now and the nights no longer drew dark circles under his eyes. He didn't bow down to his customers like a servant anymore. He informed them of how their alterations would be made and when they would be done and the customers always seemed to approve. Business was looking up. Corsets were selling just as fast as he could produce new ones. He even got requests for custom corsets. Corsets even he would have never imagined. This brought into his shop all manner of customer. He was seen measuring characters his regular customers would not approve of but he no longer cared. His talents spoke for themselves. The customers kept coming. Marcellus could be confident about this.