60. All Tied Up, With Somewhere to Go
Amy decides that she can probably fool Boswell with the clothes she's got. She finds a spot half-way down the staircase where the butler can't see her and proceeds to quietly remove her clothes and put on the clothing she's collected. After fully undressing, she slips on the pink silk embroidered thong, noting how nice the feel is and making a note to herself to consider upgrading her own underwear collection if (“When!” she mentally corrects herself) she gets out of this. She puts on the black lace garter belt, then sits on the stairs to carefully roll the pair of purple stockings up her legs. With some difficulty she attaches the garter belt's snaps to the stockings, then stops to contemplate the corset.
Amy's never really worn a corset before, so she regards its various laces, hooks, eyelets, and straps with concern. She tries wrapping the thing around her and lacing it up behind her back. No dice; the lacing job is far too elaborate for her to attempt with her arms in such an awkward position. Next she tries taking it off, pre-lacing it, then slipping it over her head. It's too tight to fit and gets stuck at her breasts. Suddenly it dawns on her to try putting it on the way she used to put on bras; put it on backwards, then turn it around. After struggling with the corset for far too long, Amy finally manages to get it in something like working order. The laces aren't as tight as they could be, and some of the clasps aren't clasped, but she at least looks sort of plausible.
Finally Amy turns her attention to the boots. She unlaces them, steps in, then bends over to lace and tie them. Or, at least, she tries to bend over. She quickly discovers the mobility-impeding properties of a laced-up corset. It takes every ounce of Amy's will to keep from screaming. She decides there's no way she's taking that corset off and putting it on again. She sits on the stairs, bends her knees, and does everything she can to try and reach the laces of her boots. After a solid fifteen minutes of struggle, she completes the job.
Amy stands up and looks at herself in the Grand Hallway mirror. She wipes a few beds of sweat off of her forehead, then does what she can to primp. Turning around and examining the lacing job she did on the back of the corset, she decides that, after tonight, she has had it with lacing in all its forms. “It's strictly Velcro from here on out!” she vows.
Finally, Amy is ready to begin her artifice. She takes a few breaths, closes her eyes, and calms herself. She is the stately and patrician Claire Stephenson. She removes her glasses and grabs a few hair pins from her backpack to arrange her hair into a neat bun. At last, she is ready to begin her performance.
Amy walks gracefully up the stairs and around the balcony. Boswell seems shocked for a moment when he sees her, but after a moment his eyes narrow. Amy addresses him.
“Boswell, I have returned. Please allow me through post haste; I must see Geoffrey immediately!” Amy tilts her head up so that she can look down her nose at Boswell. Boswell meets her gaze with an icy stare, then shakes his head.
“I must say, Ms. Shaw, that your dedication to collecting the late mistress's clothing is admirable, if baffling. I wonder, though, if you realize the power of what you are wearing? Regardless, it is a simple matter to expose you for the charlatan you are.” Amy gulps as Boswell continued. “In my capacity as servant to the Stephenson family I learned a few small tricks to help with the housework and to better serve my master and mistress. But, of course, my facility with the mystical arts is nowhere near that of the late mistress. For example, were I to try this on the mistress, she would feel nothing but a light tingle..”
Boswell snaps his fingers and Amy finds herself floating a foot off the ground. With a jerk her legs and arms spread apart, leaving her spread-eagle in the air.
“And the mistress always had excellent control over her clothing. Not a stitch was out of place, unlike that rather sad job that you have done lacing that corset. Here, let me show you how it's done properly.”
With another snap, the clasps and laces and bows Amy had worked so hard on arranging come undone, then rapidly re-do themselves. This time, the laces pull themselves incredibly tightly, so tightly that Amy has a difficult time breathing. In short order the clasps are all clasped and the laces tied into neat bows, leaving Amy barely weezing for air as her face turns red.
“I'm... very... sorry...” Amy croaks out, “Please... let's... just... forget all of this.... I... can... go....”
“You certainly shall be going!” replied Boswell, “But I think you have not yet learned your lesson. We don't need these clothes anymore, now that you have sullied them. I think, perhaps, they might now be put to better use...”
Boswell snaps his fingers and Amy's clothes, except, to Amy's chagrin, the corset, fly off of her body. The boots unlace, the garter belt unclasps and the nylons roll off of her legs, her panties rocket off of her crotch like someone dropped a heavy stone in them, exposing the trim patch of brown hair that adorns Amy's private parts. Amy's face flushes a brighter red as embarrassment mixes with lack of oxygen.
“P-p-please... I'm.... So....So....So.... Sorry!”
“That's enough out of you!” Boswell replies curtly. With a snap, the pink silk thong balls itself up and shoots into Amy's mouth. The garter belt then flies over Amy's head, tightening around her mouth and tying off the excess fabric in the back, forming a crude gag.
“Mmmmmmmmmfff!” is all that Amy can manage.
“That's much better. Now, let's see if we can't make your trip home a little less comfortable...”
With another snap, Amy's legs close while her arms are pulled together behind her back. One of the indestructible stockings snakes around her legs, pulling them tightly together, then tying off at the ends. The other does the same to her arms. Now Amy floats in the air with her legs bound together and her arms tied behind her back. She slowly drifts back to the ground, where with some struggle she manages to maintain her balance.
“Now, what to do with the boots?” Boswell brings a finger to the side of his mouth, contemplating. “I know!” he snaps, “Something to help you keep pace!”
The boots hover in the air, then move directly behind Amy. The right boot slowly pulls back. Amy looks behind her and realizes what's about to happen. She frantically shakes her head, pleading with the boots to stop.
Whack! The boot flies forward and slams into Amy's right buttock, sending Amy toppling face-first to the ground. Amy wriggles for a while, then manages to get herself up on her knees. With some more struggle, she gets her feet under her and stands up again. She looks back to see the boots waiting patiently. Now the left boot begins rearing back. Amy takes a hint and begins hopping forward.
Whack! Another kick, this time in Amy's left buttock. This time, Amy was ready and manages not to lose her balance.
“Those boots will see you escorted from the premises, and from the forest. I trust you shan't be returning?” Amy manages a nod as one of the boots lands another solid kick to her bare bottom. She awkwardly hops away.
After tumbling down the stairs and hopping out the front door, Amy slowly makes her way out of the forest over the course of the next few days, the pair of boots following her and punishing her sore derriere any time she slows or tries to take a break.
When she reaches the road a car stops to pick her up. As the car pulls over the boots clatter to the ground, ceasing their relentless assault on Amy's defenseless rear end. Amy's rescuers are a young couple just driving back home from college. Amy tries to explain what happened at the mansion and how she wound up out here. The two look at each other knowingly as they untie Amy's silk stocking bonds and remove her lingerie gag.
“Whatever, dude,” says the young man, “Just tell your boyfriend to be careful with these kind of games in the future.”
“Hey,” corrects the young lady, “let's not jump to conclusions.” Amy sighs in relief that the woman believes her story, “It might have been her girlfriend. We don't judge your sexuality at all!” Amy rolls her eyes. “But seriously, there are some really nasty rumors about these woods. I hear there's, like, a whole witch family that lives in them, or something! You're lucky we came along when we did! You really don't want to be stuck here.”
At this Amy thinks back to Shannon. She had failed in her attempt at rescue, and now Shannon has to face whatever fate awaits her at the mansion. One thing is sure, though: much as Amy loves Shannon, there is no way Amy is going back in again to rescue her.
Amy is in no condition to continue her adventure.