1) The fog of grief
Natasha is once again curled up in the dark. Some days there were no tears. Today is not one of them. Not only did her fiancée have the nerve to die on her but had also arranged for flowers and gifts to be sent to her. She clutches Alexei’s t-shirt tightly. The pain in her heart feels cruel. She takes another swig of vodka. Tomorrow, she will drown herself with work. Both are equally ineffective in healing her.
Natasha’s friends have the best of intentions. But they don’t have the emotional bandwidth after nearly a year has passed. They would never say it to her face, but they feel it is high time Natasha moved on.
Natasha, for her part, is trying. Upon their insistence she said yes to their Halloween party, despite having zero appetite for the holiday cheer. Her friends take her costume shopping, because she would never voluntarily leave her apartment. There, an overheard conversation spills the beans. Her friends have set up a blind date for her. She loses it. She slips out of the store with a fake excuse to cry in her apartment.
Natasha’s phone is constantly ringing but she ignores all of them. Finally, a knock on the door. She would not have answered it were it not for the familiar voice.
Irina, Alexei’s mom, seems as broken as Natasha. After a long silence the older lady says “I heard… I am sorry. That’s cruel.” Natasha cries on her shoulders. “You know what. Screw them. Come over to my place for Halloween.”
Natasha makes the short trip to the suburbs. She knows the route by heart even though she hasn’t made the journey in a year.
The house looks like it has seen better days, but Natasha doesn’t have the will to care.
Irina, it seems, has taken it harder than Natasha. Multiple Ouija boards clutter the coffee table. Flyers and invoices from multiple psychics sit on the counter. Pizza dinner is out of character for the ever-hospitable Irina. Natasha is worried.
While Irina is cleaning up Natasha peeks at the pamphlets. Most of them seem to regurgitate the same. Except for one:
Don’t settle for communing with your lost loved ones. When the line between the dead and the living blur, so can your sorrow to joy. Sow your desires on Halloween and reap them on All-Saints day. Terms and conditions apply. Contact us today to get back the time that was tragically cut short.
Natasha is officially concerned.
Weather and other small talk have run dry. They both sit in uncomfortable silence mustering up courage. Natasha's feet tapping. Irina nail picking. “Irina” but no more comes out.
“Wait here” Irina says abruptly and bounds out of the room.
Alexei’s mom returns with a big garment bag. The dress. Natasha had picked it out and was putting together the payment to buy it.
Natasha is lost for words.
“I fully consider you my daughter-in-law. No, my daughter! It would mean the world to me if you wore it.”
“I….”
“Just say yes. At least try it on for me! Please!”
Irina is not a makeup expert. She doesn’t need to be. A kind touch. Or any human touch after nearly a year warms Natasha’s heart. Not the reaction she thought being in Alexei’s childhood home would elicit.
Irina asks to check her work. “Perfect!”
Beauty is pain. The tight corset of the strapless dress and the high heels are getting to Natasha. However, she doesn’t even consider ending the impromptu photo session. Every click from Irina’s professional camera a dopamine hit. She does negotiate for photos sitting down. Though her feet are thankful boning is digging into her. Natasha ignores the pain and puts on a smile. Irina is still going strong with the photos. The photographer’s smile makes Natasha’s heart flutter.
Natasha muses the similarities between mom and son. Alexei would never miss a chance to digitally capture her. Some of them are very risqué. Natasha bites her lips.
*click*
Her first instinct is to delete the photo Irina just took. Her next instinct is to chide herself. Why was she so prudish? She had turned down many requests Alexei asked in the privacy of their bedroom. Natasha took a deep breath and vowed to be less anal... Then chuckled at how she phrased it.
When the photo session finally ends Irina suggests they go out for a community trick or treat event. Natasha can’t say no.
Irina is dressed in the wedding party outfit. Natasha had selected the colour scheme and helped pick out the style. But this is the first time seeing Irina dressed in it. Tears slip Natasha’s eyes and is grateful for the waterproof makeup. They link hands and head out.
Trick or treating used to be kids going around and knocking on doors. Nowadays most happen at community event centres. This one is happening at a church. THE church Natasha and Alexei were supposed to get married in. Natasha stops dead in her tracks. Irina doesn’t force Natasha, but sadness covers her beautifully painted face. Natasha takes a big gulp and forces her high heeled feet to continue.
Natasha had a vision for this church space. None of it involved it being overrun with children. Suppressing her emotions the duo reaches the station assigned to them. With a plastered smile they hand out, thoroughly vetted, candy.
Kids can be cruel. The most common seems to be if she is the corpse bride. But after a few of them she leans into it. A little change in how she walks and moves is sufficient to satisfy the young audience. She wants to update her makeup, but Irina disapproves.
Natasha and Irina have volunteered to clean up. A challenging task in how the duo, but especially Natasha, are dressed up. So, it takes longer than anticipated. It is almost 10 PM by the time they are done. No one else is there. Irina wants another photo session and Natasha doesn’t have the heart to say no.
“Thank you. Thank you. You are making this old lady very happy. I have a gift for you.” She clips a diamond-studded choker to Natasha’s bare neck. Natasha is too shocked to reply. “It was going to be one of my wedding gifts.” Natasha tears up and pulls Irina into a tight hug.
Natasha is doing all the classic wedding picture poses. Irina tells her to imagine her groom-to-be is there. Natasha is too tired, and the kids have already prodded her on this enough, for her to spiral. Instead, like a puppet, she follows instructions. She even keeps up a smile.
It is almost midnight. The heels are a killer. Natasha is cold, the strapless sweetheart neckline dress offering no protection. She tries to cover her bare arms with the veil. “Last one. I promise.” Irina hands a new bouquet. Natasha is too tired to ask when she got it. Instead, she quietly follows behind her to the bride’s waiting room. “Walk down the aisle and imagine everyone is here”
Natasha sits down to ease her feet. The candle offers warmth. Exhaustion takes over.
Natasha stirs to soft sound echoing. The air is glimmering.
Canon in D rises.
Natasha walks out.
The church is full.
The faces blurry… Except one.
That face sharpening with each step. A FAMILIAR face.
She runs and twists her ankles in the high heels.
Caught by unseen figures she is led to the altar.
The music swells.
Words are being spoken but Natasha snaps out when the mouth in front of her moves.
“I do” Natasha hears, and it reverberates through her whole being.
‘And do you take this man to be your soulfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, your love so strong that even death does not do you part?’
“I do” Natasha speaks with much more than her mouth.
The ethereal but very familiar figure in front of her slips a ring onto her finger.
“Kiss and claim your eternal soulmate.”
Time stands still. So, Natasha leans forward and plants the deepest, wettest, and sloppiest kiss.
“Alexei, honey, is that really you?” The church clock strikes midnight.
2) The thinning veil
Consciousness slowly streams back. It meets Natasha’s happy heart.
She smiles. The bed is soft underneath her.
“Was that a dream?” disappointment crawls along her skin.
Natasha feels the tight embrace of the corset. Legs still in stockings. Feet still in heels. Eyelids slowly part.
“…Alexei… ALEXEI?” This time Natasha is afraid.
“I thought you liked breakfast in bed.” The chuckle that Natasha can never forget.
Natasha is slowly munching perfectly made pancakes while she gets a backrub. Her partner is slowly undoing the corset binding of the dress. Natasha is biting her tongue.
“It’s okay if we just cuddle.”
“Sorry. It’s just been a lot.” Natasha apologises.
“I am just happy to see you.”
“Me too” Natasha beams.
The picnic is an eerie experience. The sky is dark despite the sun high up and not a cloud in sight. Neither the brisk wind nor its icy chill touches the couple. Most disturbingly the people in the park cannot touch or see Natasha and her partner.
Natasha doesn’t care.
Natasha is engrossed in her partner. He is animatedly talking about the afterlife. Natasha can’t seem to retain any of the actual words. But the emotions stick. He is happy. Thus, so is she.
Natasha’s ideal date always included playing some sports. However, tennis is not conducive to high heels or a wedding dress. She tries to undo the ankle straps of the heels, but they are not budging. Disappointed, the couple lock hands and go to the museum. His ideal date.
Natasha has been dragged to this museum many times while dating Alexei. She feels like she knows the floors inside and out. That is why it surprised the couple to find a new ground level. There seems to be no one else here, despite the crowd at the other exhibits. And Natasha is happy it is empty.
Natasha burns red with shame. All of her risqué photos are up on display. Yet if that were the extent of it she would happily have taken. No. The moving pictures talk of her prudishness. She had forgotten how she even turned his kinky requests down when his prognosis wasn’t good.
Natasha’s partner stoically observes. Natasha is unable to make eye contact.
The next exhibit is not any easier. Natasha would have been heartbroken at the subject of the first exhibit: the struggle to get out of bed; afraid to open up to friends. The darkest moments captured in stunning detail... Natasha would have been, were she not the star of this depressing show.
Natasha has seen her partner cry. She knows that he isn’t afraid of showing his emotions. That he is emotionally resilient. So, to see him not cry but collapse to the floor is something she can’t process.
Natasha has been holding her partner. Consoling him the best she can. He doesn’t seem to be responding.
Eventually they move on. The final exhibit is on Irina. Natasha’s companion loses it.
The next memory Natasha has is Irina’s son desperately trying to talk with her. She can’t even sense his presence. He punches the floor, but it doesn’t perturb Irina. “I am in hell,” the words sear into Natasha.
3) Passion of the living and the dead
Natasha is sitting on the bed. Her soulmate is hunched over “I can’t do this”. Tears freely flow.
“You gotta take care of her, Natasha. You have gotta. And take care of yourself too! That’s my dying wish”
Natasha nods.
Her partner slowly gets up and walks towards the door. Light is filtering in. Natasha can feel the finality of it. “Wait,” she catches his hand. “Let me fix at least one thing. I can’t let you go like this.”
Natasha slowly undresses. She tries to make a sexy dance out of it… but it feels more comical than erotic.
Natasha can count on one hand the times she has initiated sex. Present instance included. But this time she is very, very motivated. They go beyond missionary. Way beyond. She decided to say yes to anything her husband requests.
When the kink requests begin is when Natasha starts feels her feet chilling. But she, with a smile, says yes. She is locked into a stockade.
A couple of slaps. She can take it.
Then her partner slips into her. Except it is her rear. She protests.
He withdraws.
There is deafening silence.
Natasha bites her lips.
“Do it” Natasha braces.
Natasha doesn’t remember falling asleep. But she wakes up with a sore butt. But the smile on her partner’s face more than makes up for it. She approaches him with bedroom eyes.
Sexy uniforms were the special occasion treats. Even then it was the briefest glimpse. Now Natasha is strutting in them. She feels pride that she can induce an erection without even touching her partner.
Natasha and her husband have kinky sex. They drift to sleep in the post-orgasmic haze. When they wake up their horniness can give teenagers a run for their money.
Natasha has lost count of how many times, but every session pushes Natasha’s boundary a bit more.
Whips. Clamps. Wax play. Natasha didn’t even know these were options.
Natasha is noticing something. Her partner is not fully engaged. So she tries even harder.
She offers a blow job.
It works!
But the charm wears off quickly.
She grills her husband on what he wants. It takes a while for him to confess.
Natasha had only been requested to do this once. And she considered breaking up over this. Now? Now, she is donning the full set. No half measures, she swore.
The effect is more dramatic than she intended. Her husband climaxes just at the sight of her decked out in chastity gear.
The second orgasm needs just a bit more work. The chastity belt, with its rear shield, limits options. Using her cleavage, a popular option, is ruled out by the chastity bra. She could have used her hands. But in the spirit of committing she takes him in her mouth.
Her husband didn't need to teach her. Natasha, after a few tries, had picked up eye contact and fondling were key. One of her hands would be dedicated to her pleasure. But this time the hard polymer of the belt stopped any sensation from passing to her nether regions. Frustrated, she bobs her head extra hard. Her husband explodes extra hard.
Natasha hasn’t got relief. She uses a vibrator, but it only creates a dull ache.
Her husband smiles and gives her the keys.
Natasha feels defeated by the chastity set-up. Still clouded by horniness she attaches a dildo and anal beads. Her husband is speechless. He never expected Natasha to be so enthusiastic. She inserts the one into her vagina without any lube. She tries to do the same for her anus. “You are not thinking clearly!” is shouted at her and the anal beads are lubed up.
Natasha attacks her husband. But he uses her horniness to bargain for more. High heels are locked onto her. He attaches a leather collar. Natasha thinks he is done and tries to kiss. But he frowns, undoes it, then attaches a metal collar. He is still not satisfied. Natasha is a bundle of nerves as he tries a few more.
“Just pick one!” Natasha yells. He finds it cute and eggs her on by restarting with the leather collar.
Natasha smacks him. “Sorry.”
Her husband's choice, which he had made from the start, takes Natasha’s breath away “What can I say? Mom has good taste”. Natasha gently touches the diamond-studded choker. Sexual desire is replaced with intimacy.
A kiss. Reignites the passion.
Natasha kneels. But a wicked smile cracks. She gets up and grinds her partner. The vigorous movement causes some movement of the plugs. But nowhere near enough to get her off. She doesn’t even notice her husband’s ejaculation. So, she is shocked when he pulls away. “Hey! I am not done.” She is frustrated once again.
Natasha is made to beg for the keys.
At some point Natasha stops acting and prostrates before her husband. His giggles break her out of the spell. Another smack to the head. “Sorry but you were so cute”. A kiss dissipates any anger.
Instead of handing over the keys Natasha’s keyholder presses a button. The plugs come to life. Natasha squirms. The thigh band chains, and high heels combine to throw her off balance. But is caught by her husband.
Natasha is writhing on the floor. It is not totally futile as the anal beads move to enhance the experience. She orgasms so hard that she blacks out.
Natasha regains consciousness. Something is different. The sexual pulse that had been puppeteering her has dropped its threads.
“Honey, I think it’s time” The words pull the floor from under Natasha.
Natasha is still crying. “This is not fair! I just got you back!”
“Natas..”
“NO! No. No…”
“It’s not easy for me too…” Hearing this Natasha feels guilt on top of her other emotions. “But you know that we can’t keep doing this. Living in limbo.”
Natasha angrily pushes her husband away. She dons the full chastity getup, with plugs and locked high heels and all.
“Honey, please”
Natasha throws the keys at him “There. Now you HAVE to stay. You can’t leave me like this, right!”
“Honey”
Natasha reaches for his pants. He pulls away. She wails, not bothering to get up.
“I will be waiting for you. But I hope I don’t see you there for a LONG time. I want you to live a full and happy life.” He kisses his wife deeply.
“Not without you!” Natasha is still shaking.
Natasha’s husband tugs at her wedding ring. “NOOOO” Natasha yells at the top of her lungs and yanks her hands away.
“Please, I am a ghost. Let me go. You have your whole life ahead.”
“Look I am afraid if I don’t, then you will be dragged away with me” Natasha, in response, covers her hands tightly. He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t leave my mom alone. You promised me that you would take care of her.”
Natasha whimpers but relents. “I am going to keep it, you know. I will never forget you.”
A kiss later the reply comes “Oh, I know. And I have an idea.” He clips the ring onto the necklace. He gets approval via a deep wet kiss. His wife tries to initiate more but is shot down once again.
Natasha has been holding her partner for what feels like both an eternity and a blink of an eye. Toccata and Fugue trickles in.
“I love you Natasha.” The music ramps up.
“I love you Alexei.” The unseen organ swells.
They hug tighter. Ethereal light enters the room “… Wait. The keys!” Natasha’s lover throws it. The light fills the room. The music reaches its climax before the keys land.
4) Holding the past and future
Natasha feels like she was hit by a freight train. Getting up she feels the corset and fabric of the wedding. Not the garments she was expecting to be wearing. Her hands rub her neck, only to feel bare skin. Looking around the room shows no hint of the kinky chaos so vivid in her memory. “Was it all a dream?”
Irina is surprised to see Natasha emerging from Alexei’s bedroom. She doesn’t say anything and offers breakfast. Natasha’s stomach immediately demands attention. Irina is happy to hear the growl and pulls out her pots and pans.
Natasha is pigging out. Irina’s cooking was not THE reason she started dating Alexei, but it was up there. Irina smiles “I can make more… You know you are welcome to come by whenever you want.”
Natasha doesn’t know how to respond.
Irina picks her nail, rummaging for words “I miss him so much... You know I don’t believe in this psychic nonsense... But they were so convincing… But… But, but I couldn’t say no when I heard that the ceremony would play out like a wedding. I am sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Oh. Well, I would have liked it to have worked.” Natasha has a pit in her stomach. She wants to cry.
“Me too. But the photos came out good. Will share.”
While Natasha is looking over the photos Irina offers her a wrapped present. “I really would like you to have it.” Inside is THE choker. “Huh, I don’t remember a ring… This looks like the family wedding ring.”
Natasha tears up “No. Yes. I mean I would be honoured.” She wears the choker, and a bizarre feeling envelops her. When she snaps out of it, the chastity underwear envelops her, and heels have returned to her feet.
“I don’t know if you caught any of the festivities yesterday. Nothing much happens on November 2nd but the market is still up. If you are up for it.”
Natasha’s thoughts go to getting back to her apartment and getting ready for the work week. She is calculating traffic and how it would be a pain to stay longer. Then she looks into Irina’s eyes. They show excitement but are also bracing to be rejected. “Yes, I would love to.” The plugs give Natasha an approving buzz.