The Southern Belle

The noise of the party was starting to get to Jen. She worked her way through the garish costumes and drunken people looking for someplace that was a little quieter.

As Halloween parties go, this one wasn't particularly special. The guests were all in the main hall dancing and drinking, and the music seemed to echo from the walls doubling its sound.

The school was an old southern college and was steeped in legend and history. Battles had been fought all around it during the civil war, and both sides had used the college as an emergency hospital. Because of that, she had chosen to dress like a southern woman from the period and felt distinctly out of place. The other guests had gone for slutty, to crazy outfits of vampires, pirates, and zombies.  She had more material in her dress than some other girls had on their entire bodies. Her outfit had left her feeling like an outcast. Here she was in a school steeped in civil war history and nobody, but she had even thought about dressing in the era.

She tried to drown her discomfort in a few drinks and a few dances, but nobody wanted to dance with a southern bell when a slutty devil or a little bo peep with not half enough clothing to make a pillowcase was available.

She found a doorway that led deeper into the building, the only guests in the hall were those concerned with the bathrooms just inside it.

She Meandered down the hallway the sound of the booming music only lessening slightly.  She scolded herself for not dressing in something that would fit in better, something a little sexier. At least she had managed one sexy item she thought. Her corset, which was even now beginning to make her wonder if she had taken a full breath all night. It pulled her waist in tight and forced her to stand with her shoulders back as if attempting to present her breasts to the world.  She wasn't sure anybody had even noticed. Small wonder she thought, the neckline of her dress barely showed half an inch of skin below her shoulders.

She rounded the corner in the dimly lit hall, and motion caught her eye. There, in what looked like a library room, was a man standing at the dark window looking outside. He was tall and slender and had short dark hair. What caught her eye most was he had worn a Confederate soldiers outfit to the party.  She felt a bit of relief that somebody had had the same idea she did.

In a flash, he turned around and looked directly at her, and she jumped a bit at the suddenness of it all. He, in turn, jumped back as if shocked that she had seen him.

He had a young face that seemed to be heavy with emotion. She could not help but feel sad when she looked into his eyes.  They looked distant and broken in some way. Like a lifetime of loss and torment haunted him.

“I am sorry,” she said trying to steady her self in the doorway. “Did I startle you?”

A look of shock followed by wonder crossed his face, and he shook his head no in response.  She couldn't help but see how he looked at her. There was such a longing and sense of need.  She felt suddenly drawn to this man, a deep need to comfort him.

“Did you feel out of place in that party too?” She said walking slowly into the room. She shivered a little at how much colder this part of the building was. “I felt like I was the only one who had spent any time thinking of a costume.” She added as she moved closer to him. “You would think this was a brothel by the way some of them are dress*” She never finished her sentence, her voice caught in her throat.

The man dressed as a soldier only stared at her with such a look of happiness on his face she was almost shocked by it. It even looked like he had a tear in his eyes.

“Are you ok?” She asked him looking directly into his eyes. He only responded with a nod. Instinctively she took his hand and asked him. “Are you sure?”

The same look of happiness rolled across his face, and she saw the tear run down his cheek.  She shivered in the unusually cold room. Then realized just how cold his hand was.

"Oh my goodness." She cried out. "You are frozen half to death." She said at the touch of his hand.  She glanced around the room. A few old paintings hung on the walls. There was a low couch underneath them. It sat directly across from the window her stranger had been standing in. On the far wall was an old fieldstone fireplace flanked on both sides by bookcases. It looked like it was in working order and it had a pile of logs to one side.

"It really has gotten unseasonably cold this year." She said walking over to the fireplace. She had to struggle to keep the hem of her dress from tripping her up, but she managed to get some of the wood into the fireplace as she spoke.

“You must have walked here from across the campus didn't you?” She said struggling to work the gas line.

“Of course he had,” she thought to herself. He had probably walked from the dorms on the far side through the cold of the night. He probably just got here half frozen and realized he had mad a poor costume choice as well.

She found a tube of long matches on the mantle and lit the gas in the fireplace. Instantly the room was bathed in an orange light that danced along the walls.

She stood there watching the wood catch for a moment then turned to look at the stranger.  He was standing in the center of the room, the same look of sadness on his face.  She double checked the fire and decided that it was lit well enough and turned off the gas. Flames continued to sputter and crackle, and she felt the fire already warming the room.

"That should give us a little more heat," she said. Again she noticed him just watching her intently. A deep need and a feeling of desire to comfort him filled her again. She didn't know what it was, or why. She only felt like this man was full of pain and sadness and that she was the only person who could see it.

His face was so young, too young to carry the burden of whatever troubled him. She wondered even if he was old enough to be a student at the college. Maybe he was a student from a local high school who sneaked in.

She sauntered toward him never taking her eyes off his. He seemed to react to her approach. A smile crossed his face, and she was sure he blushed a little. He looked down away from her for a moment, then looked back. His smile made her heart melt, and she felt like he hadn't smiled in years.

“You are not a student here are you?” She asked. He only shook his head as she approached.

He reached up as she got close and gently took her hand. He was still cold, but she hardly noticed. Her heart was beating a little faster, and she was sure she was blushing a bit now. She felt such a compulsion to care for this boy of a man. She put her other hand down over his and paused to organize her thoughts.

He stared at her intently and tilted his head to the side a little. He looked so young, and strong, with a light in his eyes that seemed to say she was the most important person he had ever seen. She wasn't sure if it was the drink or the blood suddenly racing to her head, but she tilted her head back and offered him her lips.

His arm came around her waist first pulling her gently to him and then his lips met hers in the flickering firelight. His lips were cold like the rest of him, he kissed her gently and pulled away. She brought her hand up to his face and stopped him from pulling away.

It was her turn to wrap her arm around him, and she pulled him back to her lips. He kissed her for what seemed like minutes. The fire crackled away and only dimly lit the darkened room. Moonlight spilled in through the windows on the wall and highlighted them standing in front of the couch.

She rolled her head as they kissed and her hands began to explore the man she was embracing. He was firm under his costume. She could feel the tightness of his muscles, the strength of his shoulders. His hands followed hers and began to explore down her back and around her bottom.

She felt electrified. The music of the party could still clearly be heard, echoing down the halls in the distance. Her drinks were still racing in her blood, and her body was suddenly very alive with a desire she hadn't felt until now.

She pulled her lips away and buried her face into his shoulder. She tried to catch her breath even as she stood up on her tiptoes to allow him a firmer grasp of her ass.

Her head was swimming with sudden desire.  It came on her like a flood and mixed with her anxiety over the party became an intoxicating combination. She rested her hands on his shoulders as his lips came to her neck. Tracing a path up and down it stopping only to nibble at her earlobe.

She was only vaguely aware that his mouth was on her shoulder now. Her dress had been pulled down low enough to expose the lip of her corset. The tops of her breasts were exposed and lifted up as if presented to him as a gift.

Her hands tightened on his shoulders, and her breathing quickened as she realized what she was doing. Her mind told her to pull away and stop, but a fire in her stomach demanded to be quenched, and there was only one way to do it.

The lacing on the back of her dress felt loose as one of his hands easily undid the bow.  He dropped lower before her, and his lips rolled around to the front of her chest, the coolness of their touch bringing her nipples to life as they descended closer to them.

She gasped as his touch roved about her body, Everywhere he made contact with her skin was like an ice cube being dragged along her body, and it only made her more aware of every second of it.

She felt her dress go loose about her arms, and she lowered them to let it fall around her waist.  His hands did the rest, easing the material over her hips and allowing it to fall to the floor at her feet.  She stood before him in only a pair of lacy black panties, stockings, and a black corset with red lace flowers.

He stood back at arm's length and looked her up and down. Her long hair flowed around her shoulders and firelight danced on her exposed skin. She blushed a little at her exposure, and she felt her heart beating in her chest.  Her first instinct was to cover up, but she fought the urge and put her hands over his on her shoulders.

His eyes seemed to be full of desire and disbelief. She was sure he had another tear forming in the corner.  She felt such a desire to wipe it away and comfort him again.  But he looked down at her panties before she could reach up.

He seemed insecure, almost unsteady and she felt like she needed to reassure him. She reached out and took the collar of his coat in her hand and began to undo the brass buttons.  She was amazed at the commitment he had gone through on his costume. The buttons felt like they were real metal and roughly worked. One by one she worked her way down his chest, revealing a white cotton shirt underneath.  He was a perfectionist she thought, even his undershirt looked like it might have been from the period. He looked up at her as she worked her way down, and she saw a glistening trail on his check that seemed to have a faint mist to it.

Why was he crying? She thought to herself. Maybe he was new to the college? Maybe he had been recently dumped? Maybe a long distance relationship with a hometown love had crumbled when he left for school? She didn't care; she was here now, and for some reason, felt like here was where she needed to be.

She helped him out of his coat and casually tossed it on the floor.  She undid the top buttons of his undershirt, then grabbed the edge and hoisted it up over his head. He lifted his arms to ease her efforts, and she added that to his jacket.

She ran her hands down the exposed chest of her stranger tracing every muscle of his thin but muscular form.  Her hand stopped at his side, and he seemed to flinch.  She looked down and saw a scar so profound that it was easily detected by touch alone.  Even in the firelight, she could tell it was a vicious wound that almost looked like it had happened but days ago.

She looked up into his eyes, profoundly sorry he had had to suffer such an injury, and he was now crying again. The discovery of the wound seemed to send him over the edge, and silent tears rained down his cheeks.

This time she did reach up and wiped a cheek clear and brought her lips to his.  She parted only briefly to speak.

“There there,” she said. “I'm here now, your ok, just let me take care of you.”

She put her lips back to his and tried her best to pour passion into them. He returned the kiss, and she closed her eyes, soaking it in.  Her hands rolled down his chest careful to avoid the scar on his side and found his belt buckle instead.

Never Breaking the kiss, she undid the belt and let his pants slide to the floor below.  Her other hand then came up and wiped the other cheek as she continued to kiss him. She pressed her lips to him, forcing him to drink her in as she relentlessly undressed him. Every inch of him was cold to the touch, and she desperately wanted to be the one who warmed him.

His hand came around her back, and she shivered in the prickling cold. He pulled her into him pressing her body to his and making the kiss a firm embrace.  Her hands ran along his back sealing the embrace and bringing both bodies together as one.

It seemed like an eternity that they kissed in the fire and moonlight. Her mind no longer doubted her desires. It only wished to swim in the moment and had long since given up fighting. When she did finally part, his tears were gone. He let her step back, and then he reached up carefully and turned her around. His fingers began to pull at the lacework on the back of her corset.

She folded her arms across her chest and threw her hair to the side, shivering as the lacework slowly came loose. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as he pulled the cord through the final holes and the whole device came apart in an instant.

Her breasts finally free of their confines spilled out into the flickering light, and her nipples were glad to be free. Having long since gone hard under the cold caress of her lover's touch.

His hands came up her sides and over her ribs to slide around and firmly cradle her breasts. The shock of cold made her gasp again as he gently began to massage them. She stood there in only her panties, and stockings, shaking at his touch. She had to turn her head to the side as he stepped around, and his mouth came them. His tongue was like ice being traced around the nipples, and she was sure they had never been so hard before.  Still, every touch was gentle and loving and taken with great patience and care.

Her hands went to his hair running her fingers through it as he nuzzled her.  Her breath was short, and her senses were overly alert. She could feel everywhere he touched her from the shock of cold.  She began to wonder if he had just come in out of a freezing rain, or maybe a frozen river!

Her breathing quickened as his mouth slowly began to drift down. Kissing at the bottoms of her breasts, and then her chest. Slowly the kisses descended to her belly button, and then his hands flowed down her sides. She felt the sides of her panties pull free from her skin. Slowly he pulled them down, kissing the skin they exposed as they went.

She felt her heart race faster as she prepared to be completely naked for this man. His gentle lips claiming every inch of her body as her last defense retreated before him. At last, they pulled away from her and slipped across her knees.  She focused on her breathing and brought her arms around her chest to try to warm herself.

He was sitting on his toes before her, looking into her body. She knew he was studying her, smelling her, exploring her.  She felt exposed and vulnerable for a second until she yelped in shock as a hand found one her knees. She jumped at the touch but quickly regained her stance. His hand slid up the inside of her leg to her thigh. It felt like cold water washing over her.  Then gently, with slow, methodical care his fingers rubbed across the opening to her body. She yelped again at the icy touch and fought to hold still.  He rubbed her up and down until her body moistened and accepted his fingers between the folds of her body.

The shock of his touch on her clitoris made her dance on her toes. He pulled away quickly as if afraid he had hurt her. She quickly regained her composure and resumed her stance before him, her legs a little farther apart.  She struggled to maintain herself as the hand returned, and was quickly followed by the other. Rubbing between secret lips, chilling her most sensitive parts.

A small groan escaped her mouth as he rubbed, stimulating her and stoking the fire burning in her body. She felt the sensation racing along her skin and deep inside her body.  Each gentle touch created waves of hypersensitive shocks.

Her body felt like it was tightening with the continuous sensation. She wasn't' sure what to do with her hands and brought them to her breasts, grabbing at her nipples.  This only sent waves of stimulation down to meet the flood of passion rushing up. Where the two met, there was a  collision of sensation in her stomach.

Another moan escaped her lips as a finger probed deeper into her in one of its passing rubs. He began to slide them across her clitoris as he gently fingered the opening deeper into her body. The combination of sensations brought her breath to small moaning pants.  She began to feel weak in her knees, and her legs trembled. She swayed gently, and he tried to steady her as he continued to work at her.

She closed her eyes and threw her head back. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. She felt her body growing tighter, her muscles flexing in the tension. Her voice betrayed her, growing louder as he worked. She began to panic when she remembered where she was. She was afraid to open her eyes and look. Anybody could be watching her as her lover masturbated her before the firelight.

The sudden fear only made everything more intense more urgent. Her body shook of its own accord as her stomach began to tighten. His hands never let up on her, fingers stimulating her clit and probing into her with each pass.

She shook and pressed her eyes closed tightly. Her breath was just a series of short gasping moans now, and her legs went tight as her stomach suddenly convulsed.  She cried out loudly as he brought her to her breaking point and her body lost the struggle.

Her orgasm poured out like water rushing over her, flowing down her body and out where his hands touched her.  She danced on her toes again as he tried in vain to keep working at her. She struggled to hold still, but her body would not allow it. She practically fought him to escape the stimulation, and stumbled back and sank to her knees on the floor. She put a hand on his shoulder to brace herself and used the other to cover her opening as if to shield it from further touch.

She took a minute to slow her breathing. She felt her bodies energy draining out of her, and she felt the wetness flowing down into her hand. She dared a little rub at herself but quickly pulled away when it sent lightning racing up her body, still far too sensitive.

She looked up at him, his face was calm, and his eyes seemed concerned. He got up and bent over her scooping her up into his arms. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing and held her there in the center of the room for a moment. She buried her face into his shoulder and just enjoyed being held.

Carefully he stepped to the couch and sat down on it. Holding her in his arms the whole way and allowing her to settle into his lap, her legs draped over his arm. His other arm held her back to him, and he pressed her close.  She swam in the moment, never before had she felt so loved, so cared for. His embrace made her want to stay there forever.

He pulled her in close and ran his cheek through her hair. He said nothing, only held her steady, letting her recover.

Jen caught her breath and opened her eyes. She could only see the back of his head from her vantage point in the dark room. She tried to come to terms with the fact that she was now naked and in the arms of a complete stranger who had minutes early masturbated her to climax. She wanted to blame the alcohol, but she knew she wasn't drunk. She felt a genuine desire to love this man. The way he looked at her and cared for her only made it more intense.

Slowly she lifted her head to face him, and he looked deep into her eyes. She was sure he saw everything, her soul as bare to him as her body.  Carefully she lifted her legs out of his arm and twisted in his lap.  She planted her feet and stood up walking a few steps away from him taking care to sway her hips a little as she went.  She knew he would be watching intently and she wanted to put on a good show.

She turned around to face him and looked down at him. The firelight was dying, the wood nearly consumed but the moonlight was still coming through the window, and now it highlighted the curves of her body for him.  She ran her hands up her shoulders and through her hair presenting her breasts to him. Then she fell to her knees before him running her hands up his legs. Even his boxers were part of his costume, a plain white cotton boxer a little longer than normal.  She grabbed at the hem at his waist careful to avoid touching the scar and pulled them down slowly.

She nearly gasped when they pulled free of his waist. She had no idea the south had been so well armed.  She worked the shorts down until she hit his boots. She almost giggled when she realized she was still wearing her stockings and heels.  Carefully she pulled his shoes off, and the scratchiest pair of socks she had ever felt, then went to remove her own.

His hand caught her arm, and she looked up at him. He shook his head at her.

"You want me to keep them on?" she asked in a sultry voice.  Slowly she stood up and give him a few swaying turns. "You like to see a girl in stockings and heels?"

He nodded a quick yes, and she smiled. Her stockings were black and stopped mid-thigh, with little red roses in the hem. She stood in front of him and twisted her body as she ran her hands up her stomach and groped at her breasts.

Her mind raced at what she was doing. She couldn't believe herself, putting on such a show for a stranger. A stranger she had known for only a couple minutes before she had become his prize. Come to think of it; she hadn't done things like this for men she had known for months. She felt such a desire to push her boundaries, to simply do what her instincts told her to do, and she felt the will to resist falling away.

She moved forward again and knelt before him looking him in the eyes. His eyes burned with hunger and desire now. The sadness washed away by the offer of her body she made for him. She leaned forward and kissed him for a moment before pulling away and descending.

Her hand reached between his legs and found her prize wrapping firmly around the object of her desire. A quiver rolled through his body as her mouth came to the head of his shaft. Gently her lips moved along the tip, parting only to accept the head in then closing again as she sucked softly while pulling up. She shifted her position and sat down on her legs. His own went wide offering himself fully to her, and she brought her other hand in. Even here he was cold, and she wondered what it would take to warm this man up.

Down her mouth went, her lips tracing the contours of his flesh as she sucked him into her mouth. Her left hand was holding him steady at the base, her right gently stroking him. She worked her mouth downward meeting her hand as it pulled upward.  She felt him shift under her care as she began to settle into a rhythm.

His arms went to the tops of the couch as she worked at him. She began to sway her head as she went up and down and worked her tongue as firmly against the tender skin of the tip as she could. She wanted him to feel every touch of her like she had felt him.

She looked up at him determined to make eye contact. He met her gaze a look of pleading and satisfaction of his face.  She tried to hold his eyes as she worked at him. She wanted him to see her doing what she was doing. She wanted to know he was watching her please him. He seemed to understand her, and he held as still as he could staring straight into her eyes.

She began to try to reach further down with her mouth, trying to reach her hand lower and lower on his shaft. She pushed as much of him as she dared into her mouth and throat. The effort seemed to have the effect she wanted, and he broke eye contact to lay his head back. He opened his mouth in a silent moan, shifting in her grip.

She almost bit him, fighting a smile and she allowed herself to look back down.   She returned to her shallower rhythm but quickened the pace, gliding up and down his cock with a smooth, rapid motion. She could feel the firmness of his flesh, taste him on her tongue.   Her mind couldn't focus on anything but her desire and her need to have him.

She worked him with her hand, pumping him up into her mouth as she glided down, and then pulling him out as she sucked her way back up. The effort had its effect, and she felt him shifting more and more from her caress. His body couldn't stand the passion she was pouring into it, and she could feel him growing more firm in her mouth. She saw his stomach beginning to pull in, and his legs were up on their toes. She knew she had him; he was close, his body was screaming for release.  She was surprised then when his hand suddenly interrupted her efforts.

His tried to catch her chin gently but found it difficult to interrupt her momentum and only succeeded in tangling his fingers in her hair. She Looked up at him. His face looked like a man about to surrender.  She couldn't resist her smile now and had to stop her work.

He threw his head back for a second and then returned to look down at her, his mouth was open, and he was panting, but she couldn't hear it over the sounds of the distant party music.

Maybe this isn't where he wants to release, she thought. She took a moment to consider the alternative locations and decided to offer him another option.

She leaned back and straightened up. She brushed her hair back over her shoulders then stood up. He watched her intently as she walked forward a step then lifted a leg and rested a knee on the couch beside his leg. With her hands on his shoulders, she raised the other and straddled his silent form. She looked down at him and smiled. He looked up at her and placed his hands around her waist.  She shifted her knees forward and lowered herself down to him.  Her hand reached down and took him firmly and after a little effort guided him to the place she needed him to be.

Her voice failed her again, and she called out another yelp as the ice if his cock met the warm entrance of her body. She shivered, her muscles tightening at the sudden shock. Strong hands at her waist pulled her down onto him, and the icy shock climbed its way deep into her body.

Her breath came in gasps as she tried to accept him into her, the coldness only making her feel every inch more acutely.  Instinctively she began to rock in his lap, swaying back and forth at first, working him into herself as deeply as she could get him. She felt her body grow instantly more wet as it accepted him into itself.

A stuttering moan escaped her mouth as she tried to get accustomed to the bitting sensation.

“Damn why was he so cold?” She wondered silently.

She leaned forward into him and used his shoulders for support. Her legs lifted herself gently off his lap and then settled back down into it. She felt him sliding inside her, the coldness first withdrawing then reaching back in deeply.  She began to sway forward as she lifted her self with her legs, then leaned back down onto him, building a new rhythm for a new dance.  Her motion presented her swaying breasts to his face, and he wasted no time in cradling them in his hands and kissing her nipples with each forward motion.

The feeling of him inside her was intense. The cold made her skin more sensitive, and she felt a struggle brewing within herself. A deep need to make love to this man fighting with a desire to remove the coldness from within her.  She felt muscles she never knew she had. Felt them clenching with each pass as the chill made them come alive.

She quickened her pace lifting herself up and allowing herself to collapse back down on him. Driving him into her, tormenting her own body with every thrust.  His hands were on her breasts, her nipples felt sore from being so hard for so long, and his fingers cold as ever were holding them firmly keeping them rigid.

Her Voice began to escape with each downward motion.  Her stomach began to grow tight, and her legs started to feel the burn. She just accepted it all, letting her voice go free for anybody who wanted to hear it.  All she cared about was the battle of fire and ice between her legs. Her body was alive, the fire of passion was burning, and she was beginning to feel the first beads of sweat on her skin. At the same time, her body was being tormented with ice reaching to her very core. It made her feel everything more intensely, forcing her to focus on it.

She felt him beginning to push up into her when she came down. He tried to lean back on the couch to give himself more leverage. He succeeded in pushing himself in a little further with each descent of her body.  His cold reaching new depths only made it all unbearable.

Her body began to shake as the tension built inside her screaming to get out.  Her legs were feeling weak again, and her arms were rubber on his shoulders. She felt herself nearing the breaking point and knew that she was not far from the finish.

He seemed to understand what was going on and his hands came to her sides. He grasped her firmly by the waist and assisted her in continuing her rhythm, guiding her up and down his cock.

Her moans became short gasps, and suddenly each descent became like adding pressure to balloon. She felt the electricity run up her spine and she arched her back as all her muscles went tight. Her orgasm flooded through her again, racing through her body and finding no mercy as his firm grip maintained her rhythm.

Every breath was a groan as he forced her to maintain her momentum and keep accepting him deep into her body. Her orgasm couldn't dissipate, and each thrust only renewed its energy.

She leaned back only his hands holding her up and clutched at her chest. Her body was soaked in sweat and yet shivered at the same time.  Firmly he brought her up and back down, thrusting up into her more hungrily as she descended. "Please" She panted swaying forward. She leaned forward and found herself beating on his chest with one of her hands. "I can't... I can't"  She couldn't finish the words, her breath was too rapid.

She felt like the world was growing distant and her vision seemed to blur. Inside her body, an orgasm that was desperately trying to subside was being renewed over and over by the relentless intrusion of ice inside her.

She was sure she was going to faint when the motion finally ceased.  She just collapsed on his chest, letting her legs fall alongside his. He was still firmly planted inside her, and his hands held her firmly in place.

She was thankful for the few moments to catch her breath. Her heart was racing, and her body felt like it was on fire. A gentle hand came to the back of her head and stroked her hair. The other reached down and held her up onto him by here rear.  She lay there in his embrace her body trying to settle and relax.

Long minutes passed with the sound of her breathing the only words they said.  In the distance, she listened to the music still playing.  She could vaguely hear the sound of people talking, muffled and fragmented.  The fireplace occasionally made a popping sound as an ember split, but her lover was silent as ever.

He held her close and stroked her hair, giving her all the time she needed to recover. She closed her eyes and began to drift, her body spent from the effort of the night. She found the coolness of his skin soothing against her hot sweat glistening body and without knowing it she fell asleep.

She was roused from her sleep when he moved under her. She felt confused at first and then remembered where she was and what she was doing. She felt him still inside her, hard and tormenting her with his icy chill.

He stood up, picking her up as he went and held her in his arms again.  She felt the love and warmth that came with being held like this again and snuggled into him once more. She was almost sad that he had to withdraw from her body to carry her.

For long minutes he held her standing in the window bathing them both in moonlight. He said nothing as if savoring the moment, then gently he turned, and put her down on the couch. He bent down and began to search around his jacket as if looking for something. Then produced a ball of white cloth from a chest pocket.

He knelt in front of her and unwrapped it for her. To her surprise, it was a ring.  A thin gold band with a small diamond at its center. It wasn't elaborate or large, just a simple ring, a wedding ring.

Her eyes went wide at the sudden realization of it. Why was he presenting her a wedding ring? Before she could react, he took her hand, his cold touch tickling her skin. She felt weak all over and shook her head as if to say no but offered no resistance. She felt the band on her fingertip and then with both hands over hers he slid it on to her finger as if she was his bride.

She pulled her hand back when he let go, and there it was on her finger. She looked closely at in the dim light, it was a simple thing, and fit like it was made for her. Her first instinct was to take it off but then she saw his face, fresh tears were rimming his eyes.  Her heart filled with compassion for him, and she struggled to find her voice.

“Do you mean for me to be your wife?” she asked looking back at the ring. She saw his head nod once for yes.

"Oh sweety I can't be your wife," she said looking up into his eyes. She felt her heart sink at his reaction.

Her words produced a trickle of tears down his cheek, and he turned to look away from her. The moonlight highlighted his face, she could see more tears falling into the darkness of the floor.

"Hey, don't do that, she said sitting up and putting a hand to his face.  She wasn't sure what she was doing anymore, she only knew this man had some considerable pain, and for some reason her heart implored her to help him, to comfort him.

“Does this really mean that much to you?” she asked making him look at the ring on her finger.

He nodded one time his ascent.  Her mind swirled as she searched for the right words to say. What do you say to a stranger you just made love to at a party and had just put a wedding ring on your finger? Her thoughts raced to take in the night, to remember how gentle he had been, how he held her and caressed her.  She took a long moment to think about her next words carefully, but there was only one thing she could think of.

It was a lustful thought, a dirty thought, and she blushed when it came to her. Drawing on her knowledge of the period, and playing on how they had both dressed she decided to take a chance.

"Then you had better consummate the marriage," she squeaked out unable to believe her own words.

His face took on a whole new life and expression. He brought his hands to her cheeks and his lips to hers kissing her passionately. He stood up bringing her up with him holding her lips to his.  He parted from them only to guide her to the window.

There she stood, her bare skin bathed in the moonlight. He stood behind her and ran his hands across every inch of her body he could reach. His mouth nuzzled at her neck and his hands returned over and over to her breasts. She couldn't help but see people walking in the night across the distant campus lawns.  She wondered if they could see her naked body exposed in the moonlight as her stranger took her for his wife.

She told herself she must be crazy, what if he means it, what if when she wakes up tomorrow he expects her to be his dutiful wife! Her thoughts were shattered as a hand reached around from behind her and passed through her legs spreading her body open to rub at her clitoris again.  Her eyes closed as another low moan escaped her mouth and she found herself hoping he did mean it.

The sensation was short lived as the touching quickly moved on to other parts of her body. She put her hands to the window to steady herself as he explored every inch of her, occasionally kissing her as he went. He was taking her all in, learning her every curve. He was certainly going to know her body like he was her husband she thought.

Then he stood up and put his hands on her shoulders rubbing them gently for a few moments.  He stepped away, and she could hear him fumbling with something behind her.  She felt a velvety material touch her waist. Her corset wrapped around her and he pulled it up tightly against her skin.  He held it in place with one hand. He laced the backside up, pulling it tightly to her skin. The he turned her and grabbed at the laces in the front.

Submissively she held her hands above her head as he fitted it around her snugly and began tightening it.

“He must like the look of it really tight,” she thought as it shrank around her..

Her mind swooned at being fastened into it by this man, who had been making love to her all night. She felt it growing tighter against her skin as his hands climbed higher and higher up the laces pulling them tighter. Near the top, he took a moment to tuck her breasts in snugly.  Large and firm they bulged under the confines of the garment and pressed against one another firmly.

She wiggled in it slightly as he pulled the laces firmly, feeling it compressing her stomach and forcing her chest forward. She smiled a little when she thought how women in this period often wore corsets, though from pictures she had seen those were more like torture devices.  Pulled so tightly their waist pinched in even as their 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 of the laces.

She grunted as he took the lower strings and pulled them tighter still. She felt the boning of the corset 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.

She found she couldn't take a deep breath and all around her chest she felt compressing pressure.  She realized that she had just been laced in every bit as tightly as the women she had just been thinking about, and was accepting this torment for a complete stranger.

Carefully he turned her back 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 an hourglass.

He stepped back and admired her. 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, and her body was only allowed to get wider slowly as it went up. Her breasts felt far too small for the garment and were straining against it to be free.  This lead to them bulging upward above the bracing 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 a moment and went to pick up her panties.  He walked back to her casually and gently turned her around to face the fireplace itself. She felt the heat from the dying embers in the fire race up the inside of her legs. She felt it on her bulging breasts and her face. He took her right hand and stretched it out above the fireplace mantel. There at the edge was a wall lamp made of brass and anchored to the wall.  He used her panties to tie her wrist to it.

She began to panic as he tied her in place. Soon she would be helpless to this man. Was he going to be as gentle as he was earlier? Why then did he lace her into her corset so tightly?  She found the act of breathing deeply impossible, and stomach ached from the effort.

Her hand secured firmly in place he left her there a moment and went back into the shadows. Sweat began to bead up on her legs as the heat from the glowing embers heated up her thighs and her tender area. For the first time all night she felt like she was too warm.  He was back to her in a moment this time with his belt. He took her left arm and stretched it out and tied her hand to the brass wall lamp on the other side.

She found it hard to pant in her corset 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 out over the rising heat of the fire. Her waist pinched in as it was 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 tied to the fireplace, wearing her corset, thigh high black stockings, and high heels. She could not imagine a way to be in a more submissive state. He was going to take her she was sure, and consummate the marriage he had just proposed to her. The notion of that sent shivers down her spine. She felt excited and panicked at the same time.

He stood behind her and ran his hands up and down her ass.  Her corset forced her to arch her back and lean forward, so her ass 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 is 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, now the ice of his touch was sending shivers up her body.  She felt his fingers probe for her opening and once found, they spread her wide.

In her position, she couldn't resist him, and she felt the head of his cock slid into the folds between his fingers. Its icy path traced against her skin as it sought the entrance being held open. Heat from the fire drifted up into her warming her insides only to be suddenly replaced by ice sliding into her like a glacier.

A moan escaped her mouth as she felt him sliding deep into her again.  He pushed into her slowly, making her take every inch of him, 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 in its heat and sweat beaded on her skin.  It was in this position he was going to take her, to consummate their marriage, with her breasts baking in the fire, her body laced up and tied up like some southern whore. She was in absolute submission and helplessness. She felt a little ashamed of how much she loved it.

She felt him withdraw from her, and it left a cool void in its absence only to be replaced again as he pushed back in.  Her body tensed with the thrust and she struggled to breathe against the corset. Her breasts now closest to the fire began to run with sweat, dripping with a hiss on the coals below.  Again he pulled back and again he thrust back in pushing firmly and deeply into her, filling her with himself.

He built his tempo this way slowly building his speed, making her feel every inch of him, pulling back until he nearly slid out only to suddenly push back in.  Again and again, he thrust into her, taking her far more firmly than on the couch. His hands were around her waist holding her steady as he thrust into her.

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.  He pushed her forward with each powerful impact and pulled her back down on him as he came out. She felt him inside her again like ice, heightening the sensation of this efforts, making her body overly aware of what was going on. She couldn't resist the energy building inside and consuming her.

He never let his pace slow, never took his hands from her waist. He just took her then and there, took her completely and at his leisure. She felt her insides tremble again as she neared her breaking point. She wobbled on her heels trying to keep her balance and was grateful he was holding her in place. The front of her body was sweating from the fires heat. Her breasts were hot to the touch. Inside her body ice held sway and it was thundering into and out of her.  It never ceased never let up, and her body couldn't hold on much longer.

She felt her legs trembling even as the muscles in them tried to tighten. Her stomach grew tight as well straining against the corset.  She felt every inch of it pressing on her restricting her breathing to brief pants and wails as he continued his relentless sundering of her body.

She felt it coming, felt it building. She knew it was unstoppable and needed to be released. Her hands wrapped around their bindings and pulled tightly into fists and she lifted her head up to groan loudly as her body finally reached its climax. She screamed in delight as it broke loose running unrestrained through her entire being. She felt the coldness inside her never ceasing even as her body gave up the fight.  Once again she found herself struggling with an orgasm that could not subside. Her breathing was impossibly fast; she couldn't catch her breath with her corset pulled so tight. She felt dizzy and light headed as he forced her to endure him.

He wasn't done, and she was no longer in a position to stop him.  She pulled at her restraints as the undying energy swelled in her body. It had nowhere to go, so it only drove her muscles on to tighten against her will.  Her body screamed against her corset, and she felt like her breasts were going to tear through.

Still, he went on, holding her firmly from behind. He took her, and took her, and took her. Her head whipped back down, and her mouth hung open. Her legs glistened with sweat and the flow of fluid from an orgasm that would never cease.

She felt her knees shake and desperately tried to gain control of them even as she rocked back and forth from the thrusts that never seemed to stop.

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. She didn't know who he was or even what his name was, but she knew she was his, and soon he would mark her for all time.

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

She felt his hands tighten around her waist. She felt his thrusts grow more urgent, more powerful. He was pulling her down into him now as he thrust driving himself impossibly deep. Her voice was a near constant wail. She wasn't aware anymore of the party or the music. Nothing existed but the sensation deep inside her body.

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

She felt his tempo change, and he pushed into her as deeply as he could then pulled back only an inch before thrusting back in.  This sent her orgasm pulsing through her body with renewed vigor. He went back to thrusting but more quickly striving to stay deep inside her.

She felt him grow hard inside and then suddenly she felt icy cold flush through her. He pushed into her hard as his orgasm unloaded inside her, filling her with his cum and marking her his wife.  He continued to thrust into her but more gently going deeply to fill her with his cum.  His hands went to her shoulders, and he pulled her back making her accept every last drop he had to offer.

Her legs ached from standing stretched out before the fire, and her ankles were sore from the heels. Her corset was crushing her lungs making it impossible to, but she held on so he could have her. Finally, he pulled away, and she felt the chilly deposit he had left inside her. It was such an exciting feeling to be able to feel it. The change in temperature made her so aware of it. His lips came to her neck, and his hands slid around her chest and crushed her already squeezed breasts.

All she could do was gasp trying to get in what little air she could manage. She felt him tugging at the bonds on her hands, and he slowly released her. Her wrists hurt from where she had struggled against them, and her legs had no strength.

He scooped her up again and carried her to the couch. He sat down with her on his lap, and she nestled into 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 thought though she struggled to find one. He held her there stroking her hair and holding her safe as she drifted off to sleep.

In the morning she awoke to find herself alone. Frightened that somebody might see her she jumped up to dress rapidly. To her surprise, her corset was still on, but the lacing had been undone and was fairly loose.  She looked around the room and even poked her head out into the hall, but didn't see her lover from last night anywhere.

She went to leave, questions swirling in her mind when she noticed a plague on the wall right outside the door.  In the darkness of the hall last night she hadn't noticed it, now she read the words written on it and her jaw fell open.

The legend of the Rebel Ghost.

During the height of the civil war, a young Confederate soldier by the name of 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 even 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.  Now know as the library of Stephen Clines.

May he marry the woman he loves someday.

Jen went into shock as she read the words and trembled at what they might mean. She swallowed her fear and lifted her hand. There on her finger was a simple wedding ring.