Lament

by Tes Staylace, in collaboration with Phil Boarder

- ©2003 Tes Staylace
- provided for use on SirJeff's Ponygirls by the authors.
- do not use without the authors' permissions.

- see more of the authors' work, and many other wonderful corset stories, pictures and more at
The Long Island Staylace Association, recognized as "Earth's Largest and Complete Corsetry Site".


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - DISPLAY

Abe pushed the pair up the steps as they struggled to climb each one. The corsets and tight bronze bands around their waists and chests stole their breath, and the stiff boots made bending of the knee almost impossible. After an age they made it to the top of the steps, sweat trickling between their breasts and the leather beginning to sting against their skin. Abe pushed them on through the huge front doors into the entrance hall of the house. As their eyes became used the darkness of the hall, they could make out a large structure in the middle of the room in front of two swirling staircases leading to an internal balcony.

Abe pushed then towards the stairs and stopped as a single clap rang out in the empty hall. The girls looked up to see the Colonel standing on the balcony. He clapped again and then again until he was clapping for all his worth. "Bravo Abe. Bravo. You have excelled yourself this time. Ladies, you look stunning. Please take my compliments, as you will be the envy of all." The colonel walked down the stairs to greet the surprised girls. He was dressed as a Roman Emperor in a stunning white toga and plumed helmet.   Cassie and Chickey did not know whether to laugh or cry at the bizarre sight.

He walked slowly around them, inspecting their outfits and tapping the bronze belts bolted around them. Maids lit lamps around the room, and as the light increased, Cassie could now see the centrepiece of the room clearly. The mound in the middle of the room was a base of a scene. Grass and bushes grew around the base, and in the middle ran a gravel roadway. On the roadway stood a Roman chariot, gleaming with gold. It's white spoked wheels and ornate decoration made it a fine sight indeed. As Abe led them up onto the scene, they realised they were not to pull the chariot anywhere as the wheels were fixed down. Abe clamped each of their rods onto the front of the chariot and there they were to stand on display throughout the evening.

The Colonel would call down from his elevated position as the guests arrived, and once the lavish party had begun, the couples danced around the centrepiece. The southern ladies skirts brushed the floor as they spun and danced with their handsome partners. Cassie and Chickey drew amazed looks from all the guests, who congratulated the Colonel on his fine pony girls.

All the preparation, the binding the lacing and the tightness disappeared from the memory of the two girls as they witnessed the party. The centrepiece was just a decoration, and they were part of it: The centre of the celebration, the centre of attention. The men dancing with the fine southern ladies always stole a glance as they turned. They really were a vision. Before they knew, it the party was over. The room was empty once again with just the echoes of laughter and joy. The orchestra members packed up their instruments and the maids cleared the tables and swept the floor. Cassie became nervous, a dread creeping over her. She was so vulnerable, unable to move because of the band and rod holding her to the chariot, the boots tight on her legs and the neck corset holding her head proud, but still.

The midnight chimes made her jump as they filled the vacuum in the room. Cassie reached out and held Chickey's hand both for her own comfort and her friend's reassurance.

"Well, what a spectacular night! Well done, ladies. I am very proud of you." It was the Colonel; he had walked up behind them and was unhitching their rods from the chariot. "Come ladies. I have made you a promise and I shall keep my bargain." He pushed and twisted the rods to take them down on to the floor and hurried them to the front doors. They stood on the top steps between the columns at the front of the house, and the Colonel pointed down to the two carts waiting. "Here are some supplies and equipment you will need for your new lives. Take care ladies, and good luck".  He unscrewed the rods from their waists and dropped them to the floor with a crash.

Cassie turned around to say something but he was gone. After struggling down the steps, the girls leant on the wagons for support. They could not climb up into the seat because of their boots and, even if they had so done, they would not have been able to sit down, as their corsets would not allow it. As they looked at each other they heard Amy's voice whisper to them from the shadows    

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN - AMY'S SECRET
 

Cassie looked into the gloom to see Amy. "I am here to help you out of your outfits. The drivers and your help will be along in a moment to take you to your new homes, just as the Colonel promised."

"But you told me no one survived," croaked Cassie though her neck corset.

Chickey spun on this remark and her eyes burnt into Cassie with venom she had never seen in her friend before. She looked back and forth at Amy and Cassie, their secret partnership now evident.

Amy ignored the stares and told Cassie to turn around and place her hands on the top of the wagon side and spread her feet apart. Cassie looked for relief from the corset, but realised the night was over. She would never again steal so many glances from the handsome men who attended the ball. With the corset off, her power would be at an end over these drooling fops. Relief and disappointment washed over her.

Amy approached Cassie and from her cloak pulled a huge knife, its razor sharp blade scattering the light from the house.  "Stay very still while I cut the laces," she spoke, trembling, as she held the knife to the corset.

Amy never saw Chickey until it was too late. The enraged girl had never reacted in anger before this night. Years of pain and slavery exploded as she attacked Amy. The boots and corset seemed to make her invincible as she rained blows down onto the maid. Amy struggled on the ground for a moment, then rolled on to her front and climbed up the spoked wheel of the wagon as Chickey continued to hit her. Once she was standing, she turned on Chickey with the knife. "Get back!" she snarled. "You are as good as dead anyway." She wiped blood from her face with her cloak. "Unless you want to spend the rest of your life like this…"

Amy lifted the knife up to her throat and slashed the cord holding the robe. As it dropped to the ground, Cassie and Chickey stared in disbelief. The bruised and bloody Amy stood still. Her bust heaving over the top of a jet black leather corset. A black steel band around her waist must have measured only 14 inches. The corset carried on over her hips halfway between her waist and her knees restricting her steps.

 "Do you think you were the first of the Colonels playthings? Do you think you will be the last? I have been like this for five years. Not once has he looked at me as he did that night five years ago."

Amy was screaming now, her black corset creaking as she struggled for breath. "You are like cut flowers in a vase: beautiful and stunning, but as dead as you can be. You are just going through the motions. You will die like the rest. I will see to it. I will cut your laces and the shock of the release will kill you. Why do you think I encouraged the Colonel to cut the laces after tying? Even if you undo the knot, the result will be the same. I knew this; that is why I keep my corset and my secret."

Amy lunged forward with the knife, but Cassie was too quick for her. She sprang sideways and pulled Amy to the ground. Amy's body was so slender at the waist Cassie found it difficult to hold her. Amy twisted and turned until she finally fell still. Chickey helped Cassie to her feet and they turned Amy's body over, the knife protruding from her chest. Blood leaking from the wound spread across the ground.

"Take her legs," whispered Cassie, and the girls loaded her onto the back of the wagon and covered her with a blanket.

As Amy had promised, the help came along and the two wagons with the drivers and four hands trundled into the night. As the gates of the house disappeared into the distance, Cassie held Chickey's hand firmly.  She thought of her lost son Orion and of the future. She would have to become as Amy. Trapped in the corset, boots, arm sleeves and neck corset. She knew in her heart that Amy had been correct. The three days of lacing could not be undone with the cut of a knife. The bronze belt was to stay. How long the outfit would last was anyone's guess, although she liked the look of Amy's corset. Maybe one day she would try it on.     

FINIS