A small, inadequate, electric lamp in the upstairs hall served as a beacon to guide her up the handrail. At the top of the stairs, the stained glass shade cast a diffused patchwork of multicolored light into the shadowy hall. Alice faced the obstacle studded navigational challenge of the hallway ahead by aiming towards the apparent middle as she half-staggered towards her room. So far so good. Her room was the second one, wasn't it? Her travel bags were on the floor right where she left them. Here you are Miss. If you need anything further, just ring the front desk.
On a candlestand near the bed, she found a small brass electric lamp with a candle flame-shaped bulb that served as the room's only hint of the modern world. Otherwise, the room was arranged as if to suit a young woman of over a century ago, but without a speck of dust or a cobweb to be found. A small writing desk sat near the window, complete with inkwell and dip pen. Not far from it was a small walnut table that seemed to be for needlework along with an old spinning wheel. Further along the right wall, Alice admired a large chest of drawers. She could tell it was made entirely by hand from a rich, dark wood, perhaps mahogany. She loved the old-fashioned stand mirror as well. The reflective surface under the glass was obviously not modern and might even be genuine silver. Opposite the window, the small marble fireplace was beautifully sculpted, but had some kind of odd stand of rusty metal piping in front of it. Despite it all, what caught her attention the most was the centerpiece of the room, a large four-poster bed, complete with a canopy. This place is awesome.
Alice walked over to close the curtains, hoping to shut out some of the draft. Outside a thick, newly-formed fog diffused the otherwise bright moonlight giving the landscape an eerie glow. What was that? Looking to the right, she thought she saw someone out there near the treeline. Her heart raced in fear and surprise, but after watching a while longer, she didn't see any further movement. Maybe it was just the tequila or nothing other than some kind of wild animal running around--hopefully, it wasn't one of those nasty hogs. Whatever it was probably went into the woods. With a shudder and a shrug, she finished closing the curtains. She wouldn't be going out there tonight, even on a bet. Hell no. Suddenly, Halloween felt very real.
She couldn't wait to crash and pulled the covers down on the bed. To her delight, she found an expanse of pale pink silk sheets. The unexpected luxury called out to her with promises of decadent bliss. Scratch one item off the bucket list. She rushed to wiggle out of her stretchy jeans and laid them, along with her t-shirt, on the back of the desk chair. Next, she practically ripped off her bra, delighting in being free of it and its necessary underwired torment. Panties would be good enough. She wanted to feel her skin directly against the fabric. Besides, retrieving the nightshirt from her luggage was just too monumental a task in her current condition.
As she started to climb into bed, the whole room spun. It was like the world tilted for a second. She grabbed one of the corner posts of the bed frame to brace herself. When the room stabilized a couple seconds later, she noticed immediately that it had transformed. The air was dry and warmer. A real candle replaced the electric lamp. Now there was a fire in the fireplace, and the draft…her panties were gone.
Oh yeah, way too much to drink. This was a new one. She tried to bend over to look for her panties on the floor (where else could they be?), but her body did not respond to her will. Instead, despite her mind screaming out to stop, she walked over towards the fireplace. Rather, her body did…on its own! She felt thinner and more nimble compared to normal--definitely no tequila next time. Holy hell. She had heard about this kind of out-of-body experience, but it was quite different actually experiencing one. Could she be asleep and dreaming already?
"Her" body turned towards the apparatus in front of the fireplace. A thick metal pole stood up from the floor, about an inch and a half in diameter, where it was mounted in a stout, heavy, metal base. The base reminded Alice of the round, cast iron bottom of an old-fashioned barber's chair. It was probably the same type of odd metal stand as the rusted one in her room originally, but this one was new and in good repair with all the parts in place.
At the top of the pole was a roughly U-shaped bar of thinner metal tubing. She could tell the odd shape was definitely deliberate and carefully done, but she had no guess as to what it was intended to fit. The bottom of the pole was also curious. A short ways up from the base were two short leather straps with buckles that were mounted to eye rings at the bottom of the pole using a couple short links of chain. They look like ankle cuffs. Whatever the purpose, the whole device looked medical in some way.
Her view shifted on its own again as "her" body turned directly to the fire in the fireplace and added another log. She saw some kind of water hose leading from the pole base to a metal box. Copper pipes ran opposite the hose from the metal box into the fireplace. The engineering student in her reasoned it was a water convection heater for the pole. Her body now turned back to face the U-shaped portion of the rod and a hand she did not recognize, but was hers, touched it, feeling that it was warm, confirming her theory.
Alice's tequila soaked mind tried to puzzle out what was happening. Was she possessed? She couldn't be, this was someone else's body. Just then, the door opened. An older woman came in wearing a formal 1860's style gown, complete with a bustle and the hourglass shape of a heavily corseted midriff. Alice felt a chill run down her spine. Holy fuck! A ghost! She would have run out of the room immediately if she could. The ghost looked completely real and had none of the shimmering foggy shape or half-transparent body of the stereotype.
The ghost didn't seem surprised at all that Alice was nude and seemed to recognize her. "Good Abby, I see you are ready to get dressed."
"Aunt Harriett, must we use the posture former? Please, just for tonight." The strangeness of hearing someone else's voice coming out of her mouth scared Alice. I'm Abby? It was too much for her. She could feel everything, but do nothing. How could she get back to her own body? Wake up? Alice could even feel Abby's emotional reactions. It was difficult to tell that it wasn't her own body until she tried to move and couldn't. She tried again to move her arm, to speak, to blink her eyes...nothing.
"I'm sorry dear. You want to look your best for your cousin Beatrice don't you? Those New York tailors are very exacting. Getting your posture straight is especially important tonight for your new dress to drape properly. You don't want to be dragging an edge." Harriett didn't wait for an answer as she walked over to a narrow curtain hanging on the wall near the fireplace and pulled it aside to expose a metal ratchet crank. A heavy cord ran from the ratchet towards the ceiling. As Harriett cranked a stout horizontal wooden pole, 3 to 4 feet long, was lowered from the ceiling by thin chains. Alice was shocked to see a pair of leather wrist straps with buckles hanging from each end of the pole by a single chain link. Abby did not look up so Alice was unable to examine the mechanism above. Instead, Abby obediently turned around with her back to the metal stand and held her arms to each side. Alice wanted to scream out to her not to do it, but Abby seemed completely unaware of Alice within her.
Harriett wordlessly buckled Abby's wrists into the straps as if it were all rather routine. The straps were near the ends of the bar so Abby's arms were spread about a foot outwards beyond each shoulder. Each strap was heavy leather and cupped the bottom of her hands.
"I still don't understand why I need all of these treatments," complained Abby. "My posture seems good enough to me."
"It's not really my place to say, dear. The Doctor must have noticed something amiss. You'll need to talk with your mother about that. I just know what the prescription says. How many times do we need to go over that?" snapped Harriett.
Abby took the tone of voice as a clue to change the subject. She knew Aunt Harriett's fearsome temper was not far behind. Her parents employed her as governess for reasons her backside knew all too well.
"It does seem like my posture is a little better lately, don't you think Auntie? Maybe we can reduce the treatment soon."
Harriett frowned a little, "Maybe, we'll have to ask Doctor Stevens if it's alright."
"Doctor Stevens? That quack? How would any man know so much about a woman's body? He's not even married."
"Watch your mouth young lady!" scolded Harriett. "There are very few men of breeding left around here after the war. Your father has already considered permitting your courtship to the good doctor. It's not the first time he's been asked."
"I'd rather die first!" snapped Abby.
"Sadly, marriage isn't all about what you might want my dear. You have stars in your eyes fawning over young Master Hawthorne. Everyone can see it. You were flirting like a strumpet and spent far more time than is proper with him in that gazebo at the Beauchamp's party last month. I can see that he's charming and handsome, but his family was confederate. You know that your father would never approve of a courtship. You're lucky you didn't get a whuppin' as it was."
Alice could feel Abby's affection for this Hawthorne boy in her body, the southern part, below the mason-dixon line. Alice thought significantly more than flirting had probably gone on in that gazebo.
Harriett cranked the ratchet, and Alice could feel her wrists, Abby's wrists rather, being pulled upwards, well above her head, while the clicking of the ratchet resonated in the room. Alice assumed there must be something with a lot of mechanical advantage, like a set of pulleys, mounted above her.
Harriett continued to crank and eventually stretched Abby's arms up above her head, forcing her up on tiptoes. Alice felt Abby's back crack a couple times from the tension. It felt good, but Harriett didn't stop there. She kept turning the ratchet crank further until Abby left the ground to hang solely by the wrist straps. Alice could now appreciate their design. Each strap was extra wide for comfort. The way they cupped her hands seemed designed specifically for suspension; even though her arms strained as they took her full body weight, her wrists felt no serious pain. Unfortunately, the strain in her shoulders was quite a different matter. Alice hoped this would be quick.
Once Abby was a bit higher up in the air, Alice felt her shared body swing, presumably from an arm near the ceiling, as Harriett pulled at the wooden bar. Harriett positioned her directly above the U-shaped rod, aligned so that the U would come up through her legs like a saddle. Once she was satisfied that Abby was positioned properly, she flipped a catch on the ratchet then resumed cranking. Now the direction was reversed and Abby was slowly lowered until her bare crotch came down directly into the middle of the U with her feet still off the floor.
Alice could feel Abby getting excited at the idea of her nether regions coming down against the bar. She didn't try to kick free or resist and was happy to feel the warm metal pressing against her. As her weight came slowly to rest, she felt her rear cheeks being spread apart invasively as the bar settled deep into her ass crack while the other prong of the U bar pressed firmly against her slit, spreading her labia slightly. Abby let out a slight moan at the familiar and welcome pressure, but Alice was not so happy. While she shared Abby's senses, she did not share Abby's acquired taste for resting her body weight on such delicate areas. To her, it was painful and unpleasant.
Alice was impressed with the precise anatomical fit of the U bar to her, no--she had to keep reminding herself--to Abby's, contours. Even though her labia were pressed heavily into the bar, Abby's clit touched without undue pressure. With the bar between her legs and seated deeply in the cleft of her bottom cheeks, side-to-side movement was prevented. The design was disturbingly effective.
Alice had no idea how Harriett bent down in her corset to fasten the ankle straps, but she not only fastened them, she pulled them annoyingly tight. Alice realized that with Abby's body wedged in the U, there was now no escape. With her ankles secured and feet off the floor, there was no way to lift off the bar or slip out to one side or the other; her own legs trapped her in place. Even if she could use Abby's hands, she would never be able to bend down far enough to undo the ankle cuffs without jamming the U-bar into places it should never be jammed.
Abby closed her eyes and leaned her head back as she discretely assessed the sensations she was feeling. She tested the ankle restraints to find that she could only spread her legs an inch or so, no surprise, but she had to check, just as she always did. Everything was in order, just the way she hoped and expected.
To Alice, Abby's responses, physical and emotional, seemed to follow a conditioned pattern. First came the restraints and the acceptance of them. Next she was liberated, and it was playtime. Abby's emotions channeled to Alice--Abby felt like she was getting to eat the forbidden fruit. She could feel what she wanted without guilt. After all, hadn't she tried to protest? Didn't she try to get Aunt Harriett to stop? This was not of her choosing, so not her fault. The restraints were her salvation.
Abby fidgeted on the U-shaped rod, sinking deeper, then she started to work herself back and forth against the metal discretely. No! Alice wanted to scream at her to stop. The pressure of the water-heated metal was clearly enjoyable to Abby, and Alice couldn't deny that it felt good, but any pleasurable sensation was completely overshadowed by the harsh pressure and uncomfortable heat. To her, this was a mild form of torture. She couldn't understand how Abby enjoyed it so much.
Abby tried to grind harder as her arousal intensified. Friction was at a minimum--her own wetness lubricating the metal. So with her legs fastened in close, her ability to pleasure herself consisted of short, tightly limited, rubbing movements. Alice would have pleaded for release if she had she been able. The bar was getting way too hot. She also would have begged Abby to lean forward and work the bar against her clit more. Alice found Abby's movements to be rather clumsy and ineffective.
Abby felt hands reaching around her head from behind as she saw a cream-colored ball heading towards her mouth. "Please Aunt Harriett, don't. I hate it."
Harriett replied, "You know what happened last time. You must learn to get control of yourself. I see what you are doing already. Instead, you keep getting worse. Don't you feel the least bit embarrassed?"
"The ball gag is just so miserable; I hate drooling on myself. Are you sure there isn't another way?"
Harriett hesitated, "I know Abigail dear, but the only thing else we have is the French pear gag. I don't think you would like it. This waxed leather ball is a lot softer."
"I want to try it anyways. I can't stand that waxy ball any longer," pleaded Abby.
Harriett went over to Abby's chest of drawers and pulled out a small wooden object. It looked like a small pear cut in three sections plus some metal attachments. "OK Abby, here goes. If you are sure…"
"I'm sure Auntie." Abby opened her jaw to let Harriett insert the pear. She didn't like the stale wood and varnish taste of it. Once the wide base of the pear was in her mouth, Harriett pushed until it slipped into place over her tongue and between her teeth, right in the middle of her mouth. The body of the pear expanded into a Y shape. The top two sections of the pear spread up towards the top of her mouth while the remaining section pressed down squarely on her tongue. A narrow stem led out the front of her mouth ending with a threaded metal rod and winged nut. Abby could see the metal rod and nut stick out from under her nose. She instinctively tried to shy away as Harriett reached towards her face, but Harriett's other hand was ready for that and held her by the back of the head, gripping some hair, as she gradually started to turn the nut. As it tightened, Abby could feel the hardwood of the pear expand in her mouth to press her tongue down harshly. She was already regretting her choice of gags. As Harriett kept turning the nut, the expansion quickly became painful. Unlike the ball gag they normally used, the pear was hard, unyielding and merciless.
Harriett didn't know when to stop, but she tried to be careful. The pear had enough leverage to break Abby's jaw. She pulled, and it didn't come out, but seemed a little loose, so she gave it a couple more turns to be sure. When Abby start to squeal, she backed it off a half turn. Abby's eyes were still watering from the pain as Harriett smiled sympathetically at her remotely intelligible complaints. The gag not only ached, it was still too big for her to close her lips like she had hoped. She would still drool like a child and wouldn't be able to stop it. Abby vowed to never ask for the pear gag again.
"Alright Abby, I have to take care of few things then I'll be back to put on your corset after your treatment is done. That should give you at least the full half-hour you're supposed to have. The first guests are due in a couple hours so there should be plenty of time. They're always fashionably late anyways."
Abby couldn't wait for Harriett to leave. Her nipples were already getting hard, and her lust was simmering. She knew that lust and carnal pleasure were sins, but there was no way that being forced to endure a doctor's prescription could be her fault. She could not possibly feel guilty about anything that happened now no matter what Aunt Harriett might try to say.
The evils of sex had been taught to her since a child. If so evil, why does it feel so astoundingly good? Why would God have created women with these sensations if they were so sinful? Abby wondered what it would feel like to have a man inside her. If this was how it felt without being penetrated, then having a cock inside must be incredible. It couldn't be painful, could it? God would never be so cruel.
Alice couldn't believe what she was feeling and sharing. Did women really go through this sort of shit back then? What kind of quackery was this treatment? She would never look at struggling into her tight jeans or squeezing her boobs into a snug underwire the same way again. She had it easy. What bothered her the most was that Abby felt so guilty and shameful about sex. Talk about some serious brainwashing shit. She tried not to think about it. The world may be fucked up now, but it seemed even more fucked up back then. Abby couldn't even vote in her day and age. Women had only recently been allowed to retain a degree of ownership of their property after they were married. In England, everything still transferred to the husband.
Alice try to focus on the pleasurable feelings she shared with Abby and ignore the rest; she had little alternative after all. Of course she would eventually wake up…she had to wake up…this was definitely a dream…right? Yes. An amazing wet dream combined with a nightmare?
Immediately after Harriett left, Abby started squirming and grinding as much as possible. Alice could feel the distant approach of a climax already. It was delicious, then Abby started to grunt. As she continued to move, she moaned more and more, louder and louder. Alice couldn't believe it. She wanted to yell at her to shut the fuck up, but Abby got even worse, like an animal in heat. Alice could feel the emotional maelstrom as Abby's guttural sounds took on a life of their own, primitive and lascivious--the cry of the wild railing against the anguish of repression inside her, unafraid of being released and unwilling to be denied.
After over 15 minutes, Abby was still holding at the same level of sensation while she vocalized continually. She was enjoying herself immensely. Alice, however, was starting to ache with frustration. When would Abby finally go for climax? Faster, for the love of God faster! Then it hit Alice. She could sense it through their odd coexistence--Abby had never experienced a climax. She thought this was the best it got and was trying to make it last. Her Victorian sexual repression left her ignorant of her own body.
Alice was being teased to her breaking point, but she was just a passenger on the ride; Abby was the one driving, and she associated the feelings of an approaching orgasm with pain. Her mother had warned her of the Curse of Eve and the severe pain women would experience should they overindulge in their lust. She knew to hold back to make sure that never happened.
With the suddenness of a thunderclap, Alice felt her clit hood piercing contact the metal bar, pressing against their shared flesh. How she felt it now, in Abby's body, made no sense, but it was unmistakable nonetheless. It is a dream, so anything is possible. Her sleeping self was probably rubbing the sheets pleasurably back in the real world.
The ball ends of the barbell piercing pushed the curved "bar" of the barbell against Abby's engorged clit each time she tried to push and rub against the bar. At first, she seemed to think she could wiggle whatever-it-was loose like a piece of stray debris, then Alice could sense Abby's confusion turn to panic. She knew something was very wrong. When Abby looked down, puzzled, they both saw Alice's slave rings in their nipples. Abby completely lost it and frantically tried to pull her wrists free, but ever since she slipped out of a strap and nearly dislocated a shoulder once, Aunt Harriett made sure they were as tight as they could be without cutting off her circulation. All she could do was wait for Harriett to come back and discover the new adornment.
Alice got the piercings during the summer break while she worked at a resort bar on the beach--a bikini bar. It had been a one-thing-leads-to-another chain of events. She started the summer being shamefully exploited as a waitress at a tight T-shirt and short shorts restaurant, purely for the much needed tuition money. She met Patty there and from then on her life changed forever. The whole summer ultimately became a giant awakening. How could she not have known that she was a lesbian for all those years? It still bothered her.
Alice considered Patty's elaborate campaign to get her to work at the bikini bar to be the stuff of legend, but in retrospect, parading around almost naked was a secret turn-on for her all along, and she had been a willing victim. What Alice didn't know, at first, was just how big a setup it really had been. Patty's gaydar was spot on, and she had cleverly shoved Alice's latent sexual orientation right back at her. One can only look at other bikini clad women for so long before the light bulb goes off.
Patty was a considerate lover and taught her slowly and respectfully--every single morning. By the middle of the summer, Alice was obsessed with submissiveness and bondage. Patty played mistress while she played slave. Even though Patty made it clear that they were just having fun for the summer, Alice was caught up in the moment and moving much faster. One lust-filled day of overindulgence in a number of different experimental vices and she had gone all in with nipple and clit hood piercings. Patty said she was crazy, but the constant attention the new jewelry received showed what Patty really thought.
Alice chose heavy gauge silver nipple rings laser soldered into perfect unbroken circles. They were actually designed to be slave rings so were made with some kind of special cut resistant alloy underneath, but no one could tell by looking at them. Her matching clit hood piercing ran vertically. The barbell rod was curved to touch her clit constantly and held in position with extra large silver barbell balls. Again she had gone all in, the balls were chemically treated with industrial thread locker so were now permanently fused.
At first, she was constantly horny. Now she could usually forget about the sensation as long as she wore tight underwear and didn't brush against anything. However, if her clit swelled the slightest bit in arousal, the barbell rod pressing into it would drive her crazy. At that point, she would almost certainly need to sneak off to masturbate or remain horny for hours.
If she hadn't been hoping to see Patty again next summer, she would have had the piercings cut off. They were a little difficult to live with, and they definitely created some practical considerations. Airport security was her biggest fear at first, but they were mostly just amused on the occasions that the metal detector picked up something. It wasn't anything like that. Her problems were much more everyday. For one thing, the rings could easily protrude through a normal bra and gave her the appearance of extra perky nipples all the time. She was sure an observant eye would recognize them for what they were. Alice had been wearing bras with padded cups the whole trip so that her friends didn't notice. She would be mortified if they found out what she had done. So far, she had avoided talking about the summer completely. At school, they thought she was the straight-laced one, way too prudish to be a bikini bartender, and definitely not the pierced, gay friend with the shaved pussy and love of bondage that she had discovered herself to be. She would tell them eventually, when the time was right, maybe.
At first Abby wasn't sure what she felt touching her above where she peed. It felt like an itch that wouldn't go away right in that extra sensitive spot of her private flesh. Now the little nub there was swollen and unbelievably sensitive to the slightest contact. The irritating object would not come loose and seemed to be embedded in her body. Abby reasoned that, like the rings in her nipples, it was probably some kind of silver object piercing her...right near her love hole. What kind of evil is this? It was Hallowe'en eve according to one of her Scottish friends. A night of ghosts, demons and the supernatural. Surely the penetration of her flesh had something to do with the devil and dark magic.
With newfound awareness, she noticed how hard her nipples felt. She desperately wanted to examine and touch the rings--there had to be a way to remove them, but exploring them with her hands would need to wait. A quick half-hearted attempt to check the distance confirmed how hopeless it was to even try to reach them. With no other options in mind, she tried to shake them loose. The attempt caused her to twist more vigorously against the U bar, but she didn't care. When her breasts flapped, she could feel the weight of the rings pulling, but they barely moved at all. The feeling just made her even more frustrated--and aroused. Abby was thankful they weren't any heavier. She couldn't even bite down in frustration with the accursed pear gag. All she could do was to look at the gleaming silver loops in wonder and fear through tears of frustration and emotional overload.
She had to admit the metal rings were quite stimulating. The idea that her most private flesh was now forcibly adorned to look like some kind of harem girl made her flush with maddening lust. The metal had no seam that she could see. It had to be magic for them to appear out of thin air and to be so perfectly formed. How could she ever remove them? What violated her lower down in her most intimate and sensitive of places? Would it be something equally as irremovable? She could feel her vagina tighten at the thought. Abby couldn't imagine going to the blacksmith or, even worse, Doctor Stevens, to expose her naked body while they puzzled over how to remove them. She'd rather be forced to wear them in secret than go through that. Besides, her father would give her the whuppin' of a lifetime even if she didn't die from embarrassment.
The foreign object rubbing against Abby's clit pressed relentlessly into the U bar no matter how she tried to avoid it. Each move just tickled her more. She had never felt this kind of pleasure before and couldn't just hold still and take it; the stimulation was too intense. Breathing hard and sweating, she fought the restraints again--she had to get the thrilling, yet hellish, tickly poking to stop. She pulled desperately to lift off the U bar but the ankle straps had so little play that it was only slight relief. Soon her wrist skin and shoulders were both too tired to fight any longer.
Abby had never thought about how much a prisoner she was in the posture former before. Now, fighting to escape with all her might, her previously unrealized helplessness took hold with a new found level of frustration that only served to arouse her further. To make matters worse, she was drooling down her chest, and she could feel her love juices running down her legs; it was so humiliating. She had to get out before Aunt Harriett got back, somehow. As Abby continued to struggle to free herself, a new feeling took hold. Her sensitive nub was throbbing in a new way. The throbbing lit the fuse that fired the cannon, and she exploded. Spasms surged deep inside her, then spread outward in wave after wave as her inner body contracted over and over again. The sensation traveled up her navel toward her breasts and up her spine towards her head. At the same time, the sensation surged downwards to her thighs. She wanted to spread her legs wide, but the ankle cuffs were unyielding. Her closed legs held the tension in tight as the incredible throbbing went on and on.
Almost as rapidly as it had started, the amazing feeling ended, leaving her wondering what had happened. She knew that men had a feeling like that when they shot their seed. That's why they are so aggressive sexually. Could a woman have a similar reaction? Was it possible? Did she just...cum? Why did she not feel the pain her mother warned her about?
Abby's contemplation was interrupted as that little knob of flesh suddenly screamed out in pain from the burning heat of the U bar. She desperately pulled herself off the bar by her wrists as high as she could, trading one form of pain for another lesser one. She was extremely sensitive in a way beyond imagining. Maybe this was the pain her mother warned her about. It was so intense that she forgot to breathe for a moment. Between the difficulty catching her breath and her already strained arms, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold the position for long. How could such pain come from such a small bit of flesh?
A couple minutes later, she was forced to lower herself back on the bar. She couldn't hold herself up any longer. Fortunately, the strange sensitivity pain was gone, but the burning from the metal was terrible. She hadn't noticed how hot it had become before; soon she would be painfully burned. That extra log had been a big mistake. She took the heat as long as she could to rest her arms and shoulders. When she had to lift herself again, her arms were trembling immediately from the strain.
In the midst of her growing panic, Abby heard the door being unlocked. Aunt Harriett gave her a stern look. "What the devil are you doing young lady?" she scolded. Abby's desperate cries for release where muffled into a string of nonsense sounds. Harriett seemed to notice something was out of the ordinary by still didn't seem to be in any hurry. Even in the dim fire light, Harriett could see her love juice running in a glistening trail down her legs. All Abby could think about was the rings in her nipples and what would happen when Aunt Harriett saw them. At least whatever might be likewise penetrating her most intimate flesh was hidden behind the bar she was perched on.
Harriett touched the metal pole, the last traces of love juice trailing down it almost dried in the heat. "Oh my, that's hot. No wonder you're squirming so. How many times have I told you to leave the fire alone. Poor, stupid girl." Harriett closed a small valve near the metal box on the floor, and Abby could feel the heat start to diminish almost immediately.
"You have some explaining to do young lady. You've been trying to pleasure yourself haven't you?" Harriett didn't seem to expect an answer, but Abby tried to say "no" as best she could. Harriett paused to consider. "I guess I can't blame you. God knows what feelings that Hawthorne boy stirred up in you, and you're at that age now. Besides, I suspect that heat was already enough punishment."
Harriett reached around from behind Abby to button on the corset before tightening the laces. It ran from over her breasts down to sit low on her hips. "This new one is the latest style my dear. The longer line and stiffer boning to it will give you a better shape and help that horrible posture of yours, but I'm afraid it might take some getting used to."
Abby was anxious to be all cinched up. The corset would cover her nipples and hide the mysterious silver rings. Harriett seemed to look right at them and still never said a word. She didn't understand; Aunt Harriett must have seen them, even with her bad eyesight.
Once again, Alice was impressed with Harriett's proficiency. She had the corset laced tight and smooth in no time. Even though Abby didn't seem to mind, Alice was aching to get out of the damn thing already. She had never worn a corset before and was finding it a lot more uncomfortable and difficult than she would have ever guessed, especially the way it compressed her breasts.
Abby actually found the corset comforting. She felt exceedingly womanly in it and was happy not to worry about standing up straight all night. She had also thoroughly enjoyed the pushing and pulling during lacing as her body's movement against the U bar created more pleasurable feelings--the terrible sensitivity already forgotten. Alice thought Abby might cum again, but Abby still didn't seem to understand their previous climax.
Harriett pulled up the corset breast cups and fingered inside, feeling for Abby's nipples, while Abby and Alice collectively held their breath. None of them felt anything unusual. "How?" echoed the thoughts of both Alice and Abby. Both of them could still feel the rings being pressed by the fabric of the corset.
Harriett not noticing the rings wasn't any more weird to Alice than the fact that they were there to begin with. One hell of a dream, thought Alice, still uncertain of the equation of reality, dream and tequila.
Abby also questioned the piercings, but only their exact magical nature. The metal poking into her nubbin left no doubt about their reality.
"There, all tucked inside," said Aunt Harriett. "Now that you're older, you'll have to get used to a lower cut, that's the fashion. It wouldn't due to have anything budding out. Well, all done dear. Let me get you off of there so that we can have a better look."
Finally. Alice couldn't wait to get off the accursed iron U. She couldn't see how the whole process had any medical value, but she reminded herself they still sold snake oil back then. She could tell that Abby had also had enough and was ready to be done with the treatment. The constant unavoidable pressure was getting to be too much for her as well. A girl's body wasn't made to hold her weight there.
In quick order, Harriett had the ankle cuffs undone and was ratcheting Abby back up off the stand. Abby just hung like a wet rag while Harriett swung her clear then lowered her until her toes just touched the floor. She left Abby hanging while she wheeled the stand mirror over.
Abby wasn't thinking about the relief she felt from being free of the posture former at all. She was highly agitated and kept her legs tight together. Alice was confused as to why until Abby directed her gaze lower down at reflection of her sex. Oh! Alice was accustomed to the penetration of the piercings, but Abby was not. Abby was looking for the clit piercing. However, unlike Alice, Abby was not clean shaven. The clit piercing was hidden behind Abby's bush, and she had no idea what she would find under there.
"I'm sorry to have to do this Abby, but at least this way you can see the Hawthorne boy if you insist." Harriett was holding some kind of harness made of silver bands. Alice suspected what it was right away, but she sensed Abby had no idea what the device was.
In short order, Harriett positioned the first band around Abby's waist, over the corset, but it was the second band that was the most attention-getting. She pulled it down in back from where it was already attached perpendicularly to the first band and guided it between Abby's ass cheeks, revisiting the all-too-familiar feeling of metal wedged there. Alice could feel realization hit Abby when Harriett worked the wide front of the second band up over Abby's sex. The anger Alice felt from Abby was red hot in intensity.
"This wasn't my idea Abby, but I did insist they get a properly made belt. This one came from New York along with your dress and is one of the finest available. It's really quite beautiful. Look at all of the custom engraving done just for you. Roses, your favorite. You'll be wearing more silver than some people ever see their whole life."
As Harriett tried to fasten the vertical belt in place, Abby went wild. She thrashed and kicked like a branded horse making it impossible for Harriett to finish. The smothered cries from behind the gag reminded Alice of the wildebeest being killed by a lion in the African wildlife documentary she watched last week. Terrible and primal.
"I was afraid of that. Sometimes you don't know what's good for you girl."
Alice felt a chill from Abby's body. Abby evidently knew what was next. She closed her eyes, squeezing out a tear.
The swish of the hickory switch was much louder than Alice would have guessed. For such a narrow rod of wood, it was strong. The sharp sting across Abby and Alice's shared ass took their breath away. They danced around on their toes pulling madly at the wrist cuffs, forgetting the tired, stiff fatigue of their arms and shoulders, as the second blow struck. Alice clearly understood Abby's fear of the hickory switch now. A third blow on the way was an unimaginable horror after feeling the first two. Thankfully, Harriett put the rod down. She knew that Abby needed no more incentive to behave. She ignored Abby's muffled sobs as she resumed positioning the front shield of the chastity belt over Abby's sex. Satisfied with the position, Harriett threaded a padlock into place and twisted the key until it closed. By design, the lock was positioned low enough to be hidden under Abby's dress.
"There. Young Master Hawthorne will remain a gentleman tonight and you'll remain a proper young lady--at least where it counts. I'll be back in a bit. I have to give this key to your Mother. I'll leave you there in case she wants to inspect you."
The second Aunt Harriett left, Abby and Alice felt the combined effects of their frustrations rise like flood waters. Raging, angry flood waters. Abby was still in shock. How could they lock me up like this? She hated them. Relentlessly, the barbell piercing rubbed against their shared, swollen clit beneath the ornately engraved metal plate between their legs. The barbell was sandwiched between the metal front plate and her tender flesh--a flint to spark the fires of lust. Truth be told, young Hawthorne's desires were never really as important to Abby as her own, so she did not need to be shielded from him, but him from her. Let his family find a way to persuade her father to allow their courtship. How will I be able to keep his interest if he finds out? He's certain to feel it around my waist.
Harriett was gone a long time and still not back. Where was she? Abby was growing concerned. Her shoulders and wrists were really aching since they were holding most of her weight. Her tiptoes had little strength left, and she was starting to worry about whether she would have problems moving her jaw to speak normally once the gag was finally removed.
Abby examined the belt in the mirror. It really was a work of art. She could read her name cleanly engraved among the beautiful roses in front. It must be made with silver from the family mine. In a way, she was touched that her parents would go to such expense for her, but she also knew that protecting her virtue was a matter of their pride and not hers.
The whole chastity belt was too tight everywhere, especially the front piece pushing down on her maiden mound. The narrow slit in front reminded her that she might have to pee in the thing. Not that peeing was first on her mind, however. She couldn't stop thinking about the little bit of mystery metal under lock and key--or the rings pressed under the corset cups for that matter--or the life-changing ecstasy she had felt earlier.
If she could just touch herself, then this whole thing might be bearable. Instead, the strange dimension of replayed time forced her to endure her frustrations. As the future sought equilibrium with the past, she lusted with need for all of 1869, then 1870, 1871, 1872... Over 150 years of frustration and longing to be touched tormented her. Locked. Denied. Pierced. Teased. Aching with desire. Every Halloween, for the passing decades, she would hang by her wrists; her sinful, wet lust locked under a silver plate for her to contemplate, but never ignore. Each year, she was horny as could be, but forced to go unfulfilled, never to cum.
Coming back to consciousness, Alice could ignore most of her discomforts. However, the smoldering, frustrated lust still coursing through her body was impossible to ignore. She wished Abby would find a way to escape or that Harriett would come back to free her, but Abby didn't even open her eyes. Slowly Alice realized that she didn't feel Abby anymore. Could it be? She tried to open her eyes and found that she could. Alice was immensely relieved to find herself back in her own body, but it was not a cause for celebration. The stand mirror was in front of her, and the so-called "dream" was still haunting her. She was still gagged and wearing Abby's new corset. She had a very tight silver chastity belt, made by the finest craftsmen in 1860's New York, clamped tight over her sex--one that was finely engraved with roses and the unexpected name "Alice." What? Noooo!
Even though she was bound and corseted exactly as Abby was in her "dream", most of the room was back to the way she remembered it beforehand. The fire was gone, the electric light was on--even the bed was turned down just like she remembered.
She hated the gag; the corset; the standing; the pain in her wrists, arms and shoulders; and most of all, the annoying discomfort of the chastity belt. Abby might not have been able to escape the wrist straps, but she would find away. After all, she was bigger and stronger than that Abby. She was also taller, so was able to plant her feet firmly on the floor.
Alice tried everything to find some amount of relief somewhere. She pulled, swung, hung, dropped her weight, twisted...any kind of movement she could think of. After over half an hour, she hung defeated, out of breath, sweaty, sore and tired, but also even more horny from her frustrated struggles. She didn't know why bondage always caused that reaction, but it did. Any other day, it would have been fun.
Alice had plenty of time to think over the next few hours of forced contemplation. Obviously the house was really haunted, and there was some kind of strange distortion in time, but it was more than that. She had really co-existed with Abby, and there had been some kind of exchange. The belt even had the wrong name on it! To her annoyance, Alice was turned on by the idea. Being locked in a chastity belt was kind of a fetish thing for her, something she fantasized about, but not one she would have ever tried, unless, maybe, Patty had the key. Maybe she should ask Kelly to mail Patty the key--no, that'd be crazy. Then it hit her, the thoughts of fetish reminding her. What happened to the piercings? She didn't feel them anymore. They must in Abby's body. Poor girl is going to flip out, especially if they try to cut those rings with wire cutters, and they don't cut.
Every so often, she would struggle some more. She couldn't help it. She was just too miserable not to try something. Eventually, she just hung there limply, half awake, praying for her ordeal to end. She must have slipped into dreamland again. She saw a face behind her in the mirror, Abby's face. Hands followed and reached towards her breasts. They slipped in behind the breast cups of the corset. Alice thought that Abby looked envious when she felt up her much larger breasts. Abby seemed to be feeling her nipples. Yes, they are gone Abby.
Abby stood up on tiptoes to lean in towards Alice's ear. She whispered, "How did you know about silver and the curse? How could you do this to me? The chastity belt wasn't in your plans though was it? I'm grateful for what you've taught me, but you know it will only drive me to sin--that's why you did it, isn't it? You're in league with the devil. Two can play your devil's game, dark one from the future. Even a demon cannot defy silver. You will never find the key!"
Alice shot awake. Was I dreaming again? Please, please, let it have been a dream.