Technically, it was not the hardest thing Roxy Lalonde had ever done – but it was a bother. So much of a bother. Getting land rights. Real Estate. At least Upstate New York part of the equation wasn’t particularly bad. But the bunker – Old Harley’s money would more than cover it, but Fort Drum did somehow have certain jurisdictions over it, decommissioned as it was.
It was so close the house to have land rights entanglements. She… Roxy knew she just had to have that house, sitting on top of the falls, nestled in the middle of nowhere. Something about it called to her. Or… perhaps it was the other facilities. Just. The place practically called out to her.
Which is why she was going through all the paperwork, the hullabaloo. Why she’d practically lived on the base – well, other than she didn’t have much else of a place to go since Harley had taken off on his “Grand Voyage” – for the last two weeks, hounding for approvals. Because Harley’s good friend the Brigadier wanted that relic of a warehouse off his maintenance list. And she wanted a place to herself.
~
At least a military town meant it wasn’t a dry one. But, for days, she took it easy on the drinks. For all she knew, she was being “evaluated” during this ordeal – watched.
But damn if she didn’t want to actually relax. Let her laces out. Even if she couldn’t exactly trust anyone around here… Well, it wasn’t like she was using those Benzos as prescribed, anyways. All her fears had been founded. It was merely coming to terms with them, not drowning them in drugs.
But that didn’t mean someone else couldn’t have a go at them.
~
There were bars that mostly served the enlisted ranks. Noncoms. Officers. The latter had families – giving one of them a roofie – even if it wasn’t really a roofie – would make her feel even more guilty about doing it. But even the rank and file were in groups, and honestly a bit too wild.
But. The contractors. They were lonely to begin with, and looking to impress with their “hard earned” government money. They wanted to show off. And, really, so did Roxy, even if she didn’t want loose lips in the morning.
The first night she intended to start getting serious at the bar, she got a few complimentary drinks. She had staked out a visible seat right by the bartender, would mimic coming and going every so often. What she got for her efforts were a few discussions – well, monologues, really. Slightly impaired men that knew nothing more than to compliment her platinum hair, it’s contrast with her skin, or other generic comments on natural beauty. A few’s eyes would wander past her bust-line to look down at her waist, but none would say anything relevant while doing so. Even when the looked back up to her encouraging smile, practically daring them to ask anything about it. To show interest in just how someone maintained a figure like hers.
Instead, they preferred to run hands over other places while talking about themselves – which they might think passed for brilliant conversation. After a few moments she’d excuse herself to powder her nose, as slip into the shadows for but a minute – which was long enough for them to reassess and wander off. Honestly, she wondered why they always seemed to lose interest so easily. But, it wasn’t like she wanted to keep their attention to long. She could live with lost interest.
Nothing really happened that night. Not even that bad of a headache the next morning, waking up to a buzzing motel alarm. Alone.
The second night was Ladies’ night. Which Roxy considered not attending, but after leaving her last boring appointment of the day, she tightened her coat belt, bringing those marvelous curves into relief – No. She had to give it a chance.
There were more women – mostly the dress of secretaries and such, overly conservative, but non-military. A few seemed to be in non-military uniform of some sort or another. What was off was the fact it wasn’t any busier than the previous night. Less, even.
She paid for her own drinks twice, hoping someone might approach her barstool. And, a little disappointed when nobody did, retreated to a corner booth in preparation to get outright smashed. She ruminated for a minute. Whiskey. It must be a whiskey night. She began to put a hand up – and inadvertently ran a hand across the face of a secretary that must be passing by.
“ooh- sorrry. abut that,” It never hurt toadd a bit of slur in such scenarios.
“No prob hun. You wouldn’t mind sharing a Gin, would you? I think I got a little more than I can handle,” She hovered over the opposite booth seat noncommittally.
“i mean, it seems like a quiet nite ta me so I won’t dcin. decline,” Roxy shook her head a bit, “sure.”
The woman too a moment to straighten her skirt after sitting down, then, filling two shot glasses, offered one to Roxy, “Me and the other girls have seen you cantering around the base the last few days. Civilian, right?”
“yeah… trying to close a deal like every… like most of the dudes in here. yu contract?”
“I’m working for Medical. VA, I suppose. If you didn’t notice, there’s a hospital on the other side of the base. It’s looked like you’re after some surplus.”
Roxy knocked back he shot glass, “well if land is surplus sur,” It wasn’t particularly good Gin, but something was bothering her a bit, “sounds lik this is plesur then, not busness.”
“You could say that. Nancy over there-” she nodded to someone that Roxy didn’t quite catch, “Got all of us wondering about something a few minutes ago. If you don’t mind some interest.”
“about wut?”
“Are you laced up under there? I mean, that’s not your natural waist. Is it?”
Oh. Well this wasn’t the route she expected, but it could work, “is yer nan-nan to scared ta ask herself?”
“Oh- well, we’re interested. But I’m… interested. If you know what I mean,” she rubbed her hands together, eventually settling on rubbing a signet ring on her pinky.
Roxy took a moment to process, “would they – yr friends – know what yu mean?”
“They’d have a pretty good idea. We do work together, though, we keep things professional.”
Roxy was still not quite getting what there was to be professional about – it was a bar – but the woman seemed interested enough. “well, if she wanted ta know if im wearin a corset then yeah I am.”
The girl leaned to the side and vigorously nodded at the other table.
“srry, but yr?”
She straightened in her seat, “Abigail.”
“roxy,” she offered up her shot glass for another fill, “was that all you wanted to know?”
“That’s all they wanted to know. How tight?” Abigail filled Roxy’s shot glass again.
“eleven. ‘n a half.”
“Liar.”
“hmm?”
“The goddam world record is 13 inches. I’ve read Guinness.”
“den you understand why i pad.”
Abigail huffed to herself for a few moments – and sensing the right time, Roxy slipped the remains of a pill she had crushed yesterday into her own shot glass before refilling it – giving it a moment to dissolve – before swiping the other girl’s glass and downing it.
“Show me.”
“biptch callin me a liar den thing she cn order me around.”
“Please show me.”
“yu think I go all day not showin off jus ta let loos in some random bar. nuh uh.”
“At least let me get a glimpse. Restroom. Outside. There’s a few quiet alleyways.”
“an yr girls?”
“They didn’t ask.”
“spose I wuldn’t mind. one for the road?”
She filled up her stolen shot glass, and the two downed their drinks in unison, “bluh – i think wer done with this bottle anyways.”
Giving a prominent wink to her presumed co-workers – then remembering to quickly grab her clutch from them – the woman led Roxy to the exit – the pair stepping outside just as Abigail started to swagger a bit.
The evening air was clearing, diesel fumes being pushed off in the direction of who-cares by a light breeze, an overcast dusk letting the street light just turn on. Earlier the Roxy might have liked, timing-wise, really, but one couldn’t choose when the sun set.
“is it that alley?” Roxy lead Abigail between some of the brick buildings, a little farther away form the bar than hight have been hinted at earlier, but one with a sheltered nook she had scoped out earlier. The secretary was still walking on her own – mostly – though she was showing the signs of being a little dazed. Hopefully her dosage wasn’t too much to keep her from appreciating – responding to – what was coming. Roxy guided her to a seated position.
“hear you go… abbs? yu ready ta see my corset?”
“Sure… how big…”
“eleven in a hlaf inches. on the inside. here we go.”
As safety lights brightened and the sky surrendered to night, Roxy untied her coat’s belt, letting it straighten to its daylight concealing flatness, before unbuttoning. The sleeveless taupe blouse underneath, the chocolate short pencil skirt left a striking outline, hips that normally wouldn’t be that substantial at all flaring out underneath.
“Can…. ca….” Abagail’s jaw had dropped, she reached up from where she sat, nervously shuffling, not quite sure if she should try standing up.
“yu can,” Roxy knelt close to her, and Abigail ran her hands up the outside her legs – but things didn’t feel quite right where edge of the corset should have been. She felt something impervious under the blouse, yet somthing was still padded around the waist.
“let me… see… see it…” She pawed, not quite perceiving her own lack of coordination, at the top of the blouse.
Roxy grabbed her hands up, holding them against her own chest, “not here. my place?”
Abigail nodded vigorously.
~
It was a bumpy few minutes as Abigail was lead to Roxy’s motel room – Roxy herself not making the straightest lines, but finally, the key worked and the two stumbled in, Roxy’s poorly hung coat tumbling back off in the process.
Roxy let herself flop on her face on the unmade bed – a full – and only moved when Abigail had abandoned her own belongings and started attempting to flip her over.
“You said… you said I…”
“oh rite,” Roxy have a big smile as she unceremoniously twisted onto her back, and started fumbling with the zipper of her blouse, after a frustrating minute shedding both it and her skirt, “hav at it.” What was revealed was an white canvas architectural wonder, firmly encasing metal boning locking seat to sternum in place, hooked together in front and laced shut in back. A striped pink and purple stole wrapped around her tiny waist was slowly unraveled by drugged hands, revealing an even more unnervingly compact waist between human cliffs of rib and pelvic ridge
It was long minutes Abigail spent engrossed by this waistline, learning, and then forgetting, every detail of it’s stitching, enthralled by the wrongness of the proportions before her. A few times she tried to nestle her face in either the left or right gap, but the space between rib and pelvis was not quite so tall at to accommodate.
Below the waistline – Roxy’s briefs seemed almost welded in place by the corset’s ridges, and the pantyhose were by no means her objective. They seemed off as well, even if less strictly contained – too narrow, bony in the wrong places.
Above the waistline – Abigail stopped. Blinked. “What… is that thing.” Between the cups holding in cleavage that managed to be pale and mocha at the same time, something white sat. Padded. Cotton?
“that’s onna my support plushies,” Roxy gently prodded at the exposed patch, and a little ear was revealed. A stuffed approximation of a cat ear, by the looks of it.
“You mean… there’s more…” Abigail probed the upper edges of the solid boned structure and felt nothing. “More under there? For how long?”
“oh, sins this mornin. i always pack a few frens. what, yu didnt think i lef thinss thing on all the time did ya?” Roxy was loving these responses. It was all she could hope for.
“But…” Abigail rested her hands on the tight-laced waist. Her hands – not large by any measure – easily settled around it, “How do you even stand up without this?”
Roxy raised herself on her elbows, The white corset as stiff as ever. even under Abigail’s weight, “i dont. not really.”
Abigail slid off. Took a minute to think. Shiver. “What is underneath there?”
Roxy gave a menacing chuckle, “an eldritch being slippingin inta the void between realities. a skeleton trying to look plausible in human skin. a lonely dame so consumed with herself she’s slipping into her own dimension. any of thios strike your fancy?”
Abigail’s jaw was in no working order this evening. You’d think it had dropped, but it only dropped a little further as she leaned in. “Please. Let me see.”
“that bs writin didnt scare yu off? den i suppose nutnin wil. well,” Rosy brushed her counterpart back off, then flipped back on her front, “thins always go faster when yr not the only one doing it.”
Roxy clumsily guided Abigail hands – also clumsy, but workable – with pulling a small bit of her laces from what was essentially a tape measure – “its tenny damn yards yu wouldn want that loos on ry back all day” – slightly loosening row upon row of eyelets, then repeating the process. As the two halves of the corset were allowed to pull apart there were obvious shifts in the torso beneath – and, what Abigail hoped – were groans of relief from Roxy.
“oh – ok, that should be good enough. ye cn try unkoocking me.”
Abigail didn’t have any room for suspicion – so she rolled the flopping bulk of Roxy over on her back yet again, and earnestly tried to unhook the busk hooks down the corset’s front, eventually finding there was a button release mechanism of some sort on each one – the the thing really was over-engineered.
The panels didn’t pinion on the last hook. They didn’t explode open. The woman half-sitting on Roxy had to pull them apart herself.
She finds no Woman underneath. It’s a pile of stuffed animals.
It seemed to be an entirely suitable moment to start crying in shock.
“oh… non no no… don’t…” Roxy pulled up – bent at unnatural angles – to try and assure the woman hovering over her, “really, im ok, it just….” she started flinging flattened plushies to the side, pulling some from crevasses that should not exist on a human body – five, six, seven – to reveal a form beneath them that seemed a few tiers beyond emaciated.
It was no comfort. an inebriated Abigail may have been trying to stop crying, trying to wipe her eyes dry, but some sensible part of her mind was having no part in that attempt.
Propped up on an elbow, Roxy gently grasped on of the girls’ hands and pulled it toward herself. Pulling it up towards perfectly formed collarbones, letting her fingers rest there. Felling that little bit or warmth.
“a few years ago… i was watching some kids an houssittin while finishing up my ms. and… well, a lotta shite wehd down in a few years. nn… well, things started dissapperin a little while ago,” the hand cas coaxeddown to what started as a decent pair of breasts, but collapsed oddly, almost deflated, to cleavage. below fingers widedned to find what should be solid rib cage running ABOVE them. It was not some abscess of air but the guts receding from the ribs before the ribs were done doing their job.
“thers somthin psycological to it. like, nithin feels like its gone. and when i wake up, sometimes stuff changes,” Roxy turned some attention to removing her remaining garments as Abigail, slightly calmed by Roxy’s own calmness, was allowed to continue exploring. There was almost no abdomen to the girl, yet no exposed bone, the pallid mocha going even more grey tinted where there should have been muscle, organ, and sinew.
“like, i feel yr hand pressin but its in differnt places. it skips around. an…” Roxy paused, trying not to say some specific detail. Both abagail’s hands rubbed her back, an inconsistent mess of anatomy, losing the bumps of the spine, only one shoulder blade to be found, the other half of the back descending rather then ascending. Roxy opted to rest her chin on Abigail shoulder as the briefs came off with a final tug, “an if yr the persuasion i think yr sayin, we chose a bad night.”
When Roxy flopped back down on the bed, the high, skeletal ridges of her pelvis sunk into a hilly valley that was absent of any usual notable human interaction points.
“Forget that… how… how are you alive?” Abigail did the only thing she could think to do, trying to massage the incongruent bits of skin with as loving a touch as she could manage. “I’ve hooked up with soldiers that… I’ve seen shit. How…”
“yu know the worst thing to wake up to? wakin up an findin yr thigh is half gone. lik, yr foot is there under the covers, loose, you culd juggle with it if ya want to, an ye call into work sick because whet the fuck couldn’t hide tihis even if yu wanted to, and you take sleep meds praying that somthing differnt will happen and that evening you wake up to a achy pencil-leg.”
Abigail had been wondering, and now was fairly certain. She bent over and planted a quick kiss on Roxy’s cheek. Then waited for a reaction. Not much of one. She took a moment to unbutton the back of her own blouse, her own pale skin managing to be lighter than the supposedly ‘nude’ colored bra she wore. Another kiss, lower on the cheek. Roxy turned her head, away, but didn’t say anything.
Kiss. After kiss. Making a line down the jaw, down the neck, over Roxy’ chest – she gave a small shiver when the line of kisses met her breast, but didn’t stop them. Sliding a little further down Roxy’s straddled leg to reach better. Lips tried to casually flow the pecks down the chest, nose hitting the ribs.
“so what, the first person to be relly interested in me on the base is an freak fetishist?”
“There are people-” smeck, “who think that they-” smeck, “aren’t worth the attention.”
About the point where Roxy’s navel should have been, she slid her hand in to interfere. Abigail kissed that, too, but stopped. Sat up straight.
“veterans affairs, was it?”
“I serve those who served my country. Sometimes in some unsanctioned ways.”
“you know i put somthin in yor drink, right?”
“I thought that was more than bottom-of-the-bottle taste.”
“is wass to make you forget. maybe yd run off, maybe phone yr friends – but nothin would be left to remember by morning.”
“If I remember anything in the morning, I wouldn’t tell a soul.”
Roxy looked a little miserable, “not even those friends? yr little harem?”
“You’re not planning on actually hurting me, are you?”
“nah.”
“Then to you, they’re my moral support.”
Roxy gave a cruel laugh. “lesbo moral support. ok. why not. i’m just… i sure wish i could trust that from anyone.”
“Maybe you just need someone to trust you.”
The words hung.
Roxy eventually sighed. “im not saying thats not my thing, but right now, ya know,” Roxy ran her own hand over the ridges of a jutting pelvis, “psycological somthing or other.”
“We could just cuddle for a bit. If you wanted.” Abigail slipped off Roxy’s leg, tried to balance on the edge of the bed, “Or I could go.”
“i wanna,” Roxy gave a pained sigh, “take a shower. yu…”
“With me?”
“yu don’t have ta go. but no.”
Abigail tried to stand up – unsteadily worked her way to one of the chairs. Took a moment to button her blouse back up. “It’s ok if I call for a… woah,” Abagail couldn’t help but stand up to get a better view.
Roxy, free of the weight, had started to stretch in preparation for getting back up – and what a stretch. What’s left of bones and ligaments popped as she tried to bring her her chin to the back of her knee – backwards and twisted. In acknowledgment to the “woah”, her neck twisted at theoretical fatal angles to look at her guest, “i did tell you i culdnt really walk without the corset, right?”
Abigail half-shrugged in response.
“well i cant really say i was a stiff kid, but – there are reasons i can’t use a chiropactr as an outlet either.”
“I don’t mean to be… you do mean an actual shower right… not a…” She realized what she wanted to say, but couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. Instead of ogling as snaps continued to come from Roxy’s direction, she fiddled with the room’s curtains, glancing outside, checking where exactly they had gotten to. She knew she had walked here. She didn’t remember anything different. “Is it alright if I call a friend to pick me up?”
Roxy had slid off the bed- and was picking herself up on all fours, her current version of a midsection curled backwards, eventually letting her head pop between her thighs – “if dats what yu want, ok.”
“Seriously. I…” Abigail knelt in front of what she really hoped was a human. After a moment, she realized it was probably the most human bits or Roxy she was seeing.
“the phons by the booob tube. im fine. great. you can go if you hav to.”
“No. Seriously,” Abigail scooched close, taking Roxy hands into her own lap, “I’m just trying to think what you were trying to do tonight. If it wasn’t me. Some dude. You don’t need to do this. Inviting some stranger into a hotel room. I… I’m sort of imaging you bent like that trying to drag me back out to an alley. New York doesn’t need any more cryptids.”
Roxy chuckled at that.
“It’s ok if you want to call this getting off on the wrong foot,” She leaned in, absentmindedly stroking Roxy’s thigh, “I’m leaving you my card. Call. Mention something about a bar and I’ll probably be down for a drink. Or if you want to meet up with the girls and I next week, ladies night, we’re always there. Even if I don’t end up remembering much of tonight. Even if you wanna send goddamn Christmas cards. Just. You need someone to care for.”
She gingerly tried to reach around Roxy’s head – but there was no gap. She plunged her hand a little further, and rubbed her fingers against the haggard array of ribs.
She gave Roxy a firm kiss on the cheek. And a quick kiss on the lips.
“It sounds like there nobody in your life. And. You need people in your life… but… Ok, I’m going.” The freed her self form Roxy, started standing, “I’ll wait outside. Even with – thank you for showing me,” quickly grabbing her clutch, a loose business card fluttering to the floor where Roxy could see it – the lock clicked, parking lot lights & a smattering of underlit clouds shown in, “If you care to be a friend. At all. I’m up for it. I’ll… use the payphone in the lot.”
And the door closed behind Abigail.
~
In the shower, Roxy let herself cry.
She really. Really. Wanted a friend.
~
The next day though, properly re-stuffed, laced in, and standing tall, word finally came through that there was paperwork for her to sign – in person – was at Fort Lewis. In Washington State. It should be the last bit of legwork to do on the acquisition. Then she’d have her personal “Skaianet Branch”… and the slight bit of control she had so desperately wanted of her situation a few hours back.
On the long flight west, she wondered if she really wanted it. To be alone with her research in upstate New York, away from people who’d shout she was a freak.
She received a message at the airport… Harley. Where was she headed? Took a good minute to track down. Was she seeing anything in the sky lately? Was she out west for any particular reason? And yes, of course she was. And no, going a little out of the way woudn’t be too much trouble.
That man was enough to keep her busy.
And it wasn’t like somebody else to care for was going to just fall in her lap.
____
Oh, wait, I see, you were aiming for that big Spirograph thing. Yeah, you missed it, probably a few universes over by now. You really should have stayed on the spaceship, you know.
What? Yeah, sure there’s a Roxy in this universe. I guess you have enough time check in on her before paradox space does it’s thing.
Illustrations by Cleonova
https://archiveofourown.org/works/15495366
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