RetroXotique

Then she gingerly picked up the stiff and heavy item and wrapped it around her waist and swore when she saw that the front clips would not meet by many inches. 

"This cant be right" she thought. 

She examined the lacing and quickly realised that she had to release all of the lacing back through the eyelet’s. When she had done this she ended up with a ladder of lacing about five inches wide. She then wrapped it around her waist again and the clips almost met. Before fixing the front clips she moved up and down until she thought it was in the right position with the flare at the bottom of the corset lying over her hips. When it was seated on her hip’s it looked OK, but she had nasty suspicion that the top was supposed to lie over the bottom of her ribs but it only reached to just under her ribs. 

"Nothing I can do about", she thought. 

She began, or tried to begin to fasten the clips, she struggled and strained for a about minute holding her breath in all the time until she found right angle and the clip fastened. Very much out breath she sat on the bed and even though the corset was not laced , it immediately fought back pushing her back straight and digging into her ribs. Dorothy rapidly sat up straight to relieve the pressure. 

She then swore again "Damn, Damn, Damn !" and then went on to say to herself, "I will never get those boots on, when I get the corset laced, I couldn’t even bend down now." 

Dorothy carefully stood up, and undid the clip again, laid the corset down and bent down slowly against the skirts resistance and using her hands, forced her first stockinged foot into the pointed toe of the first boot, she carefully laced it as tight as she even though it increased the pressure on her cramped toes, reasoning that she would not get another chance once she put the corset back on. She then tied a tight double bow and repeated the operation with the other boot. She then stood up carefully, remembering her first attempt, and managed to keep her balance, although the tight skirt did not give her much room to correct as she tried to keep her weight centered between the postage stamp toe area and the needle like stiletto heels. 

When she was reasonably happy, she gingerly leant over to the bed holding one hand for back for balance to pick up the corset and wrapped it round her waist once more. She knew what to do now and with a deep breath and some fumbling fastened the first clip. This operation was now made harder as now she could not bend over much, for fear of loosing her balance and her newly prominent breasts obscured her view of the corset clips. With little rests to catch her breath, between each clip she fastened all eight of them. When she had finished, she tapped the now solid piece of metal that ran from her crutch to her ribs and it returned a dull heavy ‘thunk’. 

"Scarlett O’Hara would be proud of me" she thought wryly. 

She fumbled behind and could not find the corset loops, and so slowly and careful of her balance she forced one foot in front of the other against the skirts resistance and moved back to the mirror. Turning once more she peered over her shoulder, and located the two loops of lace which were pulled tight to the corset. She dug in her thumbs and was surprised how easily they came away as they looked very tight. Rotating her hands away from her she started to push the loops back, and as she did so she felt the corset begin to tighten at her waist, when she had reached her arms full extension she clamped off the laces at the corset with one hand, and examined the results, she was a bit perplexed, she had pulled out what seemed a lot lace, but the gap seemed just as big at the top and bottom and most reduced at her waist. 

"I need it closed over my hips" she thought, "or I’ll will never zip this skirt". 

She then tried pulling the laces out with one hand, and pulled the slack out from the bottom with other, this worked well, for several repeats, until she did not have enough strength with one hand to pull out the lace and then she had to resort to using both hand to pull and while she clamped off with one hand at the end of every of every outward stroke, she used the other hand to pull in the slack. As she did this she felt the corset tightening all along its length with most of the pressure coming at the waist, making her breathing speed up, and her now eyeful bosom pant up and down like the heroine in a Mills and Boone bodice ripper story. Eventually even with both hands she could not pull anymore and as she clamped the laces she was dismayed to see that she still had at least three inches of gap left. 

She tried tugging again, but did not have enough strength against the corsets tightness. What she needed was some help, but as it was mid-morning the hotel was silent and she would not even think about asking the man on the desk. 

Dorothy was beginning to despair. Three inches to go, the corset was hurting as it clamped around her waist and ribs and only forty five minutes to go before she was due at the meeting. 

"What am I going to do" she thought and then she as staggered slightly she brushed the door handle and the answer came. She hooked the laces over the handle and tottered away to take the tension, she found that by peering over shoulder and leaning against the lace she could pull out the slack and tighten the corset. She continued to lean forward at a steep angle struggling for purchase on the minuscule soles of the high heeled boots, and working her fingers quickly as the corset tightened The pressure at her waist and her ribs was becoming unbearable, but she had to ignore it, and continued anyway. The gap in the corset rapidly closed and her panting increased. At last the sides met all the way from her hips at the bottom of the corset to just above the waist. 

She pulled herself vertical against the laces, steadied herself, clamped them off with one hand, and turned back to the door which was now over six feet away. Tottering slowly back to door she felt a little faint due to the rigid pressure of the corset. At the door she unhooked the laces and then passed the ends around her waist several times to lose the excess and tied them off in bow at the small of her back. 

Dorothy hoped she had done enough, she pulled down the stretch top over the corset and reached down and pulled the top of the skirt back up, feeling rather strange as she pulled the waistband not upto her waist as usual but over the boning of the corset. Grasping the zip she started to pull, it was not easy but slowly it pulled up to the waist band. The waistband itself still did not meet by at least an inch and so she left the hooks free. 

Standing tall and straight as the corset gave her no other option, she went back over to the bed in an even more mincing walk, she could feel her hips moving excessively from side to side as she walked, but they did not seem to be attached to her anymore. Ignoring the strange feeling, which she surmised must be due to the tight corset, she tried to bend at the waist a little to pick up the suit jacket, the corset would not let her bend at all. Quickly, instead she bent at the knees and bobbed down and grabbed the jacket and then had to make several short steps to regain her balance. 

When she was stable again, she forced her arms into the sleeves, and reached down to button the jacket, with some pulling and straining she managed to get the three buttons up from the waist to meet, but they seemed under a tremendous pressure as the jacket stretched across the hard corset, the buttons around her bosom were easier because as she pulled, she just forced the soft flesh of her breasts higher. Taking little notice of how much flesh was forced up and out, she reached for the sleeve zips and found she had to pull with far to much force to close them down to her wrists. Her arms in the tight sleeves now felt rigid  from shoulder to wrist. 
 
She tottered back to the mirror and examined herself, she tried to fool herself that she did not look to bad, her figure was now superb, the tight skirt smoothing and shaping her thighs and hips, her waist was now wasplike and she had always thought that her breasts looked good, even though now they were rising up and down at an astonishing rate as she strived for air against the constriction of the corset. She noticed also with a bit of dread that her nipples on the rise only just stayed under cover of the jacket. 

All in all she thought "I don’t look that bad, a bit tarty perhaps, but I have got to carry it off. I also have to ignore that my feet are killing me, my hips are held in a PVC vice, my waist is being crushed by an instrument of torture and my arms feel like they have been squeezed into sausage skins". 

The only problem she could see now with her outfit was the collar, which was flapping around her neck like a pair of bats wings, it certainly was not meant to be worn open. She reached up against the resistance of the over tight sleeves and found she had to strain to make the three hooks on the collar close. The collar itself must have been more than an inch too small for her, and was very high and stiff and she had to keep her head up to stop it digging into the soft flesh of her throat and left her shorter of breath than ever. 

"Never mind that, got to get going". She turned back to bed and minced erectly across to it, dipping carefully again she grabbed her briefcase and purse, and stood back up unsteadily under the change of weight. She took a pair of sunglasses out of her purse and put them on to give her a little anonymity and minced unsteadily to door, into the hall and down to the lobby. As she got to the lobby she reached the short flight of stairs that would take her down to streetlevel. She put one hand on the rail and put a foot forward, but the hobble skirt and the high heels, held her back and her balance was lost, her ankle gave way and she went over on the remaining high heel and ended up going down the six stairs in one go, hanging on to rail with her all her strength. She pulled herself up with difficulty as she tried to get her legs underneath with no help from the skirt and the unfamiliar high heels. she was sure she heard another seam tearing a little. 

The man on the desk watched this performance with a lot of interest, and his gaze stayed on Dorothy as she eventually regained her feet and tottered over the tiled floor to the desk. The needle sharp heels, clicking on the floor with sharp sound that echoed around the empty lobby. 

"Could, you call me a cab please", she asked in a slightly nervous voice. Dorothy had intended to drive to the meeting, but knew that there was no way she to drive in this skirt and high heels 

"Yes, Madame", he replied with a big, smile and reached for the phone. Dorothy moved away to other side of the lobby to wait. She would have liked to have sat down to take some of the pressure of her aching feet and toes in the too tight boots, but the lobby had arm chairs which were very low and she feared she would not be able to stand again. 

The cab arrived and she walked towards the door, the man quickly came from behind the desk to open the door for her and see her out with another big smile, which she tried to ignore. She minced slowly towards the cab and she could see the cabbies eyes come out on stalks as he caught sight of her outfit. She also tried to ignore his stares and opened the cab door put in her purse and briefcase and then came the problem. How did she get into the cab. She could not split her legs more than an inch and the corset and skirt did not like her bending much. 

The only way she found to get in was to turn backwards and force herself down with her hands against the upwards pressure of the corset until her head was below the door, this was made even more difficult as she was six inches higher than usual. When she was low enough she fell backwards into the cab with the corset straightening her out again, and then she swung her legs in. 

The cabby never took his eyes off her, "And never offered to help" thought Dorothy. Settling herself as best she could in the tight confines of the cab, she gave him the address. He set off and Dorothy dipped into her purse and used the journey to comb out her hair and repair her makeup as best she could. 

The cab stopped in front of an office block and the cab driver jumped out and came round to help her out. "Allow me Madame", he said grinning. Dorothy was a bit embarrassed at all this, but she was not sure she could get out of the cab without his help. 

She had swung her legs out and then pulled by his hand and she had to bend again, she groaned as the corset increased it’s pressure and it’s top dug into her ribs. When she was out she quickly gave him $20 and tried to get into the office building as fast as she could, but her outfit would not let her, all she ended up doing was giving a parade to all people on the sidewalk, most of whom stopped to watch her hip swaying, mincing, tottering slow walk across the sidewalk. 

In the building, she entered the lifts, selected the floor and tried to calm herself and be ready for the ‘pitch’, The lift opened and she walked over to the desk, watched by the wide-eyed receptionist. She gave her name and she was shown to the conference room. The receptionist opened the door and Dorothy was confronted by twenty men all staring at her. She took as deep breath as she was able, which in the crushing corset was not very deep at all and walked into the room. The twenty pairs of eyes followed her all the way with not a word said. Dorothy began to find a little hope. 

"Look at them, they cannot take their eyes of me, maybe I can pull this, off". 

As she got to the spare place at the table, she was looking at the men and she missed as she dropped her purse, and completely forgetting about the tightness of skirt and the corset and her unsteadiness on the heels, she bent down to pick it up. 

There was a great ripping as the skirt split from waist as it was released from the tremendous pressure of her hips and a popping sound as the jacket buttons flew off.  

Epilogue

Dorothy now lives in Slough, where she is an assistant at the Montessori school and is married to Roger.