Bound by Corsets
Laycock Street Merchants #1
Rosalind Betancourt
Copyright 2011
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All characters are 21 years of age or older.
Chapter 1
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Faith Evans looked into the mirror to see how her work looked. First she caught sight of herself. Her young face, considered very plain within this city with her somewhat round features and tightly bound back black hair. Her only saving graces was her figure, which consisted of tits the size of a toddlers head and an ass that was round and still perky.
Then she looked at her client, Catherine Blacklock. She was a small, frail thing with curling blonde locks and Roman features were what men these days called fashionable and craved. But the woman's tits were small and drooping. Those ten-some years Catherine had on Faith hadn't been kind. As for hips, they were barely there.
And as Faith pulled the corset strings tighter. Giving her client almost a boyishly flat chest.
"That's enough," said Catherine.
Faith stepped away. "That corset was meant to be worn atop of clothes." But Faith already knew the purpose for the woman wearing it. With her naked body bound like that, and in this house which was kept a secret from Catherine's husband... Yes, there was only one reason.
Three days of panicked work, reworking the vintage corset, one Faith had made nearly five years ago, were going to be ruined. Just like every other corset Faith made from Catherine.
But Catherine didn't care. She just smiled. "But you know it doesn't fit today's fashions, deary." She said the words as her hand stroked the curly mound of hair around her pussy. A pussy that was excited and eager.
"If that is all..." Faith didn't finish her sentence. She just went and picked up her shawl and hat. She was almost out of the bedroom door when both women heard a door in the back of the house slam shut.
It had come... The ruiner of corsets.
Faith went to continue her path out of this home and from her greatest aggravation. But Catherine put a hand over Faith's mouth and drug her back into the room. She drug her to a wardrobe throwing open the door and giving Faith a pleading look.
The first thing to run across Faith's mind was that the woman was crazy. The second thought was that she'd finally see that which had always been a mystery. The third thought was about how much money this woman gave her yearly. It was the second and third thoughts that made Faith climb inside.
Catherine had barely shut the doors when a voice came from the bedroom doors. "All ready, I see."
The voice wasn't how Faith had imagined it. His words were a rumble and warm. It reminded her of whiskey. As Catherine stepped away from the wardrobe, Faith realized that there was a significant crack in the doors that allowed her to peer out.
She watched Catherine's flat ass step out of sight. Her words were clear as day. "I hope you like it."
"I've never seen one like it," said the voice. Then there was movement. Into view came a man, tall as a doorway with shoulders almost as wide. He wasn't fat nor skinny. His clothes were the best. Laycock Street's finest. Clothes Faith knew because that's where she owned her shop and she was always watching the competition.
Catherine tugged on his arm trying to get him out of the room. Trying to get him away from where Faith was hidden. But he just shook her hands loose.
"I have somewhere to be in a few."
"But..." Catherine half turned towards the wardrobe, but stopped herself.
Then Faith watched as the man ran his fingers through the unsuspecting woman's pussy. "You want me to fuck you that badly already?" Then he licked her pussy juice off his fingers.
"I've set up the other bedroom..."
"I haven't the timed," he said undoing the buckle of his belt and taking a seat on the bed. "Suck on it."
Catherine stood there for only a second. Then her legs gave way and she was on her knees, her head nestled at his crotch.
Faith realized, the woman cared more about getting that cock in her than being seen by some merchant.
And the man that commanded her with a disinterested voice and expression finally seemed to care. His eyes, that were such a brilliant blue, were fixated on the corset. She watched them run across the lines of stitching, the curves of the form.
Then he began to touch. He ran his fingers across the boning, the stitches, the strings. He avoided touching Catherine. But how he touched that corset was how every woman wanted to be touched.
Unconsciously, Faith started to mirror the things he did to herself. Over her clothes she moved her fingers and through the dress and cloth of her corset she could feel the faintest of touch. A touch that started making her pussy ache.
A moan drew Faith's gaze back to Catherine. Her head was now bobbing up and down on his cock. And her ass had risen into the air. But the source of her moaning was her own hand that hand reached between her legs and played with her clit.
Faith wanted to play with her own clit. She wanted to finger her won pussy. She wanted to start driving fingers in, but her hands were busy doing the things he did.
Suddenly, one his pulled away and grabbed Catherine's hair viciously. An evil smile spread across his face as his fingers traced the corset strings. "Should I cum on your face or fuck your pussy?"
"Fuck me," Catherine begged. Her fingers still wiggling along her clit. "Nigel, please. Fuck me."
Faith's mind was echoing the same thoughts. Her hand rose up and covered her own mouth for she feared she would beg for the same. Her other hand quickly pulling up her skirts.
Using her hair, he threw her upon her stomach onto the bed. Catherine got up on all fours like a bitch in heat, wagging her ass at him.
He didn't disrobe. He only pushed his pants down to his ankles. And when he stood, Faith saw it all. His cock which was wet from her mouth. A cock that would make a girl cry from its size in pleasure and pain.
Then his back was to Faith. And she watched for it. For that moment... And then Faith drove three fingers into herself. And still she knew he was bigger than that.
She matched his pace. Imagining it was him in her as Catherine's moans filled the air. Moans of Pleasure and pain. Moans gasping for breath.
And as Catherine grew silent the sounds of fabric ripping and his grunts. And these sounds made Faith cum. She bit back every sound and pushed her hand hard across her mouth.
With half open eyes she watched him pound into Catherine's pussy some more. Then a loud snap filled the air. Catherine was moaning and screaming again and he withdrew, letting out a "Fuck yes" as he came.
For he never came in them. That much had become apparent long ago to Faith.
He grabbed a handful off sheets and wiped of his cock, no longer paying attention to the woman he had screwed. Nigel pulled up his pants, and in turn Faith pushed down her skirts and began licking her fingers clean.
"Nigel, how about some more?" The panting Catherine couldn't get enough.
His big hands spanked some of her ass and her pussy. She yelped in pleasure and pain.
"Thanks for the fuck," he said. Then he strolled away, a satisfied look on his face.
Faith waited until she heard the door downstairs announce his leaving. Then she stepped out of the wardrobe and went beside the bed, just so far that the couldn't see each other.
"Want me to take care of that?" Faith out stretched her hand for the ruined corset.
Catherine said nothing, but placed the garment in Faith's hand.
"I'll send word when it is fixed," Faith said instead of a farewell and she marched out of the room and down the stairs. Once at that bottom she looked at the corset, his wet cum shining against the fabric.
Without thinking she licked it and tasted him.
Nigel Lytton, Faith thought. For years my enemy. We have finally met.
Chapter Two
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Faith walked through the door of her home and tossed her hat and shawl on the coat rack. Then she stood there frozen, her mind still replaying the scene she had seen earlier that after.
"Pardon me, Mrs. Evans." The sentence was punctuated by the slamming of the front door.
Faith jumped at the sudden intrusion on her thoughts, and stepped aside. She looked over at Ellen. "You could be nicer about it, Mrs. Evans."
As always, Ellen wore a relaxed smile. "You've been strange since you got back. Care to tell me sister?"
Faith nodded her head, but she didn't want to do it here by the door. Her sister-in-law could wait until they were in the parlor.
She led the way and turned to Ellen. If anyone would understand it would be her. They had known each other since the day Faith had married the twin of Ellen's husband. Disgusting old men that thought themselves wonderful because they married fourteen year old girls.