A World of Dreams

She typed it into the text box, but as an IT professional, she knew not to hit enter. She went up, closing the tab. The website disappeared, and with it she felt a bit better. Maybe it wasn't that hard. Maybe she'd try to sign up for one of those activity things where young people hang out. She feels like maybe writing it out was what she needed.

But then, a wave of exhaustion fell over her. She held her head, as she stood up. That was weird, she had felt perfectly fine a moment ago. Though maybe if she just took a nap, she'd feel better? She stumbled from her desk to her bed, easily done as the two were separated by a mere three feet. As she lays on the bed, she takes off her shirt, but before she can get undressed further, her head hits the pillow and she falls into unconsciousness.

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She woke up. Or rather, it seemed like she broke from some day dream, as she finds herself sitting up. But where is she? And why is she naked? She looks around, only to see a mirror in front of her, and behind her appears to be some type of dressing room. Various pieces of clothing are neatly folded on a nearby couch. And beyond them is a dress on a mannequin like form, a big poofy white dress. A wedding dress.

It is at that point that three older women enter the room. They look at her, only to admonish her, "Oh dear, have you still not gotten dressed yet? Your wedding is in less than two hours! Your lord husband will be quite upset if you delay the ceremony!"

Vivian can only stumble out a few words, "Wedding? Husband?" The three crones approach her quickly. "Now, now, we must hurry." One grabs her arm, and pulls her with an almost otherworldly strength. Vivian follows her, as another pushes her from behind. They push her toward the clothes, where the other quickly pulls an item from the pile of clothes. It looks like some long piece of cloth with various buckles.

As the two other elders hold her arms, the woman wraps the fabric around her midsection, only to connect some buckle at the back. As she pulls on the fabric, it cinches, and Vivian realizes that it's a corset made of white lace. Still, the material doesn't bend, holding her midsection tightly.

"There must be some mistake, I'm not getting married." The old crones don't even stop as they put her on a chair and begin to work stockings made of silk up her legs. "Nonsense, your father accepted the bride price, and now you are to be married to Lord Alex." They connect a garter belt to hold up the stockings, framing Vivian's ass sensually.

"I'm trying to tell you, I don't know who that is." "Oh, are you undergoing hysteria? Well, the best cure for that is a consummation." Vivian tries to reason with them, but somehow they have manhandled her into a set of heels, and now push her toward the form. As one woman holds her arms to the sides, the others lift the dress from the form, and put it on her. They turn her around to face the mirror.

Vivian gasps. The dress had looked sort of normal on the form, but with her body in it, she can see that certain pieces of fabric seem to be missing. Like the fabric that should hide her breasts, which sit above the dress still fully exposed, the corset beautifully lifting them. Like the skirt's front, which is missing, exposing her pubic mound.

As she gasps, a white collar is placed around her neck from behind. "Don't you just look quite the blushing bride? I'm sure your husband will have quite a great amount of fun with you."

"But I'm telling you, this is a mistake." Her hands now free, Vivian covers her body as best as she can. And then the world flickers, revealing a small bare office, shabby, crucifixes on the wall and theology books on the shelf. Only for the vision to reassert itself, the three crones looking up at her, their faces almost cartoonishly extended into the visage you'd expect of a witch. "There are no mistakes here, in our god given land. The mistake is the damned other world that broke women from their natural place, gave them the means to divorce, get jobs and live miserable lives. The mistake is female liberation."