The Southern Bell

The sensation was short-lived as the touching quickly moved on to other parts of her body. She used the window to steady herself as he explored every inch, occasionally kissing as he went. He was taking her all in, learning every curve as if it was precious to him. She moved and shifted to give him access to anything he wanted, his hands hungrily consuming her flesh.

Suddenly he moved away, his hands leaving her body as she braced against the window. She could hear him fumbling with something in the room then felt a velvety touch at her waist. Her corset wrapped around her stomach before being pulled tightly against her skin. He held it in place with one hand as he struggled to lace the backside. She realized what he wanted and took over, holding it up, freeing both his hands to work at the back. He laced her up, pulling strings tightly until it was firmly in place. Smiling, she thought the moment was over, but he took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. He then reached for the front laces and began to tighten them. Submissively she held her hands above her head as he started at the bottom, pulling tightly.

"You want to see me in the corset?" she asked as he smiled and nodded. "Do you want it tight?" Once again, he nodded, pulling the laces to remove any slack. Her mind swooned at the idea of being fastened into a corset by this man who had been making love to her all night. She felt it pressing in tighter as his hands climbed higher to tighten the laces more. Near the top, he took a moment to tuck her breasts in snugly, causing them to bulge against the confines of the garment.

She wiggled as he pulled the final few inches, her breasts squeezing together before his eyes. The boning pressed against her back, forcing her chest forward as if teasing him to sample their taste. She smiled to think of how women from that long-lost time in history often wore corsets. Though from the pictures she had seen, those were more like torture devices. They were often pulled so tightly the woman's waist pinched in even as her breasts spilled out.

She looked at him in wonder when after fully lacing it and pulling it tight, his hands went back to the bottom. She grunted as he took the lower strings and pulled them tighter still. The boning was pressing on on her waist from every side, crushing her to impossible thinness. His hands moved up a few places higher and pulled firmly again, and she felt it push the air out of her lungs. She groaned as it compressed on her, forcing all of her inward. Finally, he reached the top and, taking firm hold of the end of the laces, pulled them tighter still, crushing her breasts and squeezing them impossibly tight against one another. She was sure the fabric was going to rip under the pressure of them trying to escape.

Deep breaths were impossible to take as her chest was constricted in terrible pressure. She realized that she had just been laced in every bit as tightly as the women she had just been imagining. Carefully he turned her around, and she felt his hands at the cords on the back. With a groaning gasp, she bent backward as he put a knee to her back and pulled. Laces strained in metal loops, and the strong boning did its job shaping her waist to a slim hourglass.

He stepped back and admired her figure. She put her hands down and discovered it was easier to let them rest on the rear of her hips. Her middle section was squeezed impossibly tight, forcing her to lean forward slightly. Her breasts were far too large for the garment and strained against it to be free. This led to them bulging upwards like two round balls. She found it impossible to stand in any position but with her hips flared out and her breasts thrust up.

He walked up and took her hand, taking her to the fireplace. She had to strut, rolling her hips to keep her balance from her new posture and walking in heels. He stood her there and left a moment, the warmth of the dying fire beginning to lick at her skin.

He returned a moment later to gently take her hand and turn her to face the fireplace. He spread her legs slightly, allowing the warmth to race up her thighs. She felt it on her bulging breasts and face, the sweat starting to return. Carefully he took her right hand and stretched it above the mantle. There at the edge was a wall lamp made of brass and firmly anchored to the wall. He produced her panties and began to tie her wrist to the arm, securing her in place.

She looked at him in panic but saw the same happy expression as if she had made all his dreams come true. She tried to pant but found every breath challenging to manage as he slipped away and returned to the shadows. Sweat began to bead up on her legs, the heat from the dying embers warming her thighs and the tender area in between. For the first time since entering this room, she felt too warm. He was back before she could ponder that thought and took her left arm. He stretched it out and used his belt to tie her to the lamp on the other side. She tensed as the knot was completed leaving her standing in high heels and stockings with a corset crushing her waist.

She found it hard to pant but struggled to do so anyway. She tugged at her hands but found them firmly secured. With her arms stretched out, she had to bend over a little hanging her bulging breasts over the rising heat of the fire. Her waist pinched in, forcing her to thrust her hips out as if presenting her rear to him. She tugged again and knew she was helpless. She took a shallow breath and lowered her head to look down at the floor between her feet. She knew what was coming next.

She was helpless to resist the man she had just told to consummate his marriage. She couldn't imagine being in a more submissive state, unable to do anything but accept what was coming. He was going to take her and consummate the marriage he had just proposed. The notion sent shivers down her spine, leaving her panicked and excited at the same time.

He stood behind her and ran his hands across her rear that protruded out the back like an offering. She knew there was no getting out of it now, no way back. In shock, she found her mind imploring her to go forward, to push her limits farther than they had ever gone before. She discovered she was becoming impatient with his slow, deliberate pace. She had told him to consummate the marriage in a moment wild impulsion, and she needed him to act on it before she came to her senses. She was scarcely aware of the words that came out of her mouth and shocked when she realized what she had said.

"Take me, make me your wife!" she implored him in shallow gasping breaths.

His hands reached between her legs and pulled them farther apart. She felt the cold fingers return to the folds between her legs and was relieved by the touch. The heat of the dying embers had her boiling so that the ice of his touch was sent shivers up her body. She felt his fingers probe for her opening and, once found, spread her wide.

She felt the head of his cock slid into the folds between his fingers. Its icy path tracing against her skin as it sought the entrance to her soul. The heat from the fire drifted up, warming her insides only to be suddenly replaced by ice sliding in like a glacier.

A moan escaped her mouth as he claimed his bride. He pushed in slowly, making her savor every inch, then when he could get no more, he adjusted his position and gained what felt like an inch. He then put his hands around her waist and pulled her up on her toes, tipping her forward a little, and slid in even more.

She gasped as she realized he was in even deeper than on the couch. He had her tied to the fireplace roasting her breasts in the heat as sweat beaded on her face. It was in this position he was going to consummate their marriage, her body laced up and tied like some southern whore. She was in absolute submission and helplessness, feeling a felt a little ashamed of how much she loved it.

She felt him withdraw, leaving a cold void in its absence only to be replaced as he pushed back in. Her body tensed with every thrust as she struggled to breathe against the corset. Her breasts began to run with sweat, dripping with a hiss on the coals below. Again he pulled back and thrust in, pushing firmly and deeply filling her essence with himself.

He built his tempo this way, slowly building his speed, making her feel every touch. One end of her body was cooking, the other frozen as he held her waist and took his wife. The motion seemed to go on forever as he built to a tempo far more firmly than on the couch.

She was his prize now, his gift. Her hair hung in her face as her head began to sway forward and backward with his energy. Once again, the chill made it impossible to focus on anything but what was going on inside. It heightened the sensation, driving her mad as he drove on. It started again, the storm of energy that built to unbearable size, growing out of control as it consumed her.

He never let his pace slow or took his hands from her waist. Now that his ring was on her finger, he was determined to finish the job he had denied her twice. She felt her insides tremble as she neared her breaking point. She wobbled on the heels, trying to keep her balance, and was grateful he was holding her in place.

The front of her body was sweating from the heat of the fire. Her breasts were hot to the touch. Inside her body, the ice held sway as it drove the storm inside to hurricane proportions. The relentless passion never ceased, never let up, and her body couldn't hold on much longer.

She felt her legs trembling even as the muscles tried to tighten. Her stomach grew tight, straining against the corset that held it in place. The moment was coming, building inside to a terrible crescendo. It had become an unstoppable force needing to be released, and his every thrust only fed it. Her hands wrapped around the bindings pulling tightly into fists as she threw her head back to scream as her body finally reached its climax.

She screamed in delight as it broke loose, running unrestrained through her entire being. The chill inside never ceased even as her body gave up the fight. Once again, she found herself struggling with an orgasm that could properly subside, his constant efforts dragging the sensation out even as another built to replace it. Her breathing was impossibly fast, unable to catch her breath with the corset pulled so tight. He forced her to continue to endure him as she felt dizzy from the effort.

He wasn't done, and she was in no position to stop him. She pulled at her restraints as the undying energy swelled and churned. It had nowhere to go, so it drove her muscles to tighten against her will. Her body screamed against the corset, dripping sweat from her constrained breasts as she shook with every thrust.

Still, he went on, holding her firmly from behind. She wouldn't be free until he was done, and he showed no signs of being near. Her head whipped back as her mouth hung open, the moan that escaped her lips barely audible. Her legs glistened with sweat and the fluids of her orgasm as they began to wobble. Her knees shook as she desperately tried to gain control, but the constant rocking motion made it impossible.

Her mind was lost in the moment, lost in the never-ending pleasure. She couldn't remember anything except that she was making love to her husband.

"Take me!" she cried as the thrusts picked up speed. "Make me your wife!"

His hands tightened around her waist as his thrusts grew more urgent. He was pulling her into him, now driving the thrusts impossibly deep. Her voice was a near-constant wail, lost to the moment of their lovemaking.

"Take me, please!" she cried desperately to bring an end to her pleasurable torment.

The tempo changed, and he pushed in as deeply as he could, then pulled back only an inch before thrusting back in. The feeling was intense, and her head rolled with a sudden orgasm that arrived with renewed vigor. She was too exhausted to cry out and too lost to notice he had picked up the pace.

With sudden ferocity, he pulled her down and thrust deeply, causing her to groan loudly. He pressed her into him, holding her in place as he took tiny thrusts and finally gave her his gift. He held her like that for almost a minute before sliding back gently and giving her a few more strokes.

Her legs ached from standing stretched out before the fire, and her ankles were sore from the heels. The corset was crushing her lungs, making it impossible to breathe, but she held on so he could have her.

Finally, he pulled away, and she felt the chilly deposit he left inside. It was strange to be able to feel it so distinctly, the cold standing out against the warmth of the rest of her body. Tender lips came to her neck as hands slid around her chest to crush her already compressed breasts.

All she could do was gasp for what little air she could manage. His hands released her chest and moved to her wrists, tugging at the bonds to free them. Her wrists were slightly sore from where she tugged at her bonds, and her legs had no strength. He saw her condition and came to the rescue, scooping her up before carrying her to the couch.

He sat down with her on his lap nestled to his chest, thankful for the coolness of his skin. Her mind was a fog of emotions and spent energy, and she couldn't hold a coherent. He held her tight, stroking her hair and holding her safe as the intensity of the moment finally caught up to her. With weary eyes, she drifted off to sleep in the arms of her lover, dreaming of a kiss.

Sunlight beamed in the window as she awoke to find herself naked and alone. Frightened that somebody might see, she jumped up to dress rapidly, donning her costume in embarrassment. To her surprise, the corset was still on, but the lacing undone, relieving the pressure that once tormented her.

Once dressed, she looked about the room but found no evidence of her stranger. She even poked her head into the hall to find the corridors empty, her lover nowhere to be found. Her thoughts were disturbed as she took one last look around to be sure nothing was left behind. Quietly she made her way into the hall and turned back to the room. Her eyes immediately went to a metal plague she hadn't see in the darkness of the night before. She leaned closer to read the words as her jaw fell open.

The legend of the Rebel Ghost.

During the height of the civil war, a young Confederate soldier named Stephen Clines was brought to this building severely wounded from a stray shot to the side. Mr. Clines died shortly thereafter, but before he died, he told the Doctors that he refused to pass on until he had married the woman he loved. Legend has it he kept a small diamond wedding ring in his coat pocket.

To this day, people claim to see a Confederate soldier matching Mr. Clines Description walking these halls, and most notably in this room. Many have suggested he will remain until the day he finds a woman to accept his ring. May that day come, and Mr. Clines finally find his peace.

Jen went into shock as she read the words and trembled at what they might mean. Could that man from last night have been the ghost of a long-dead soldier? Slowly she lifted her hand before her face turning it over to see a simple diamond wedding ring.