| Disclaimer- If you're under 18, Go away!... What did I just tell you?
This is a work of fiction, I'm afraid.
Ghostlight by Lostgirl
"Meg! It isn't working! You need to fix it!"
The costume mistress walked over to 19 year actress, as she tugged
at her bodice. The seams were about ready to give and still weren't
providing any support. She's an awfully buxom to be playing Kate
in "Taming of the Shrew," Meg thought. If Meg had known that's what the
director was looking for, she would have auditioned herself.
"I can't have my dress fall apart on stage, you have to have it done by
tomorrow!" the demanded.
"We still have a week until we open, I'll get it done when I get it done."
Meg's voice was a little sharp, and the director's head popped into the
women's dressing room.
"Is everything okay in here? Meg, when can we expect that dress done?"
"I'll work on it tonight," Meg answered in a resigned tone. She was
not going to win this one, and she knew it. "If I leave now, the
fabric store might still be open. I need to buy more boning to reinforce
"I don't want this to be uncomfortable, can you make it so it's more
The costumer glanced at the director, holding the biting retort at her
lips. Meg would turn into the shrew in this show if she wasn't
"I'll do what I can, Amber."
When Meg returned from the store, the actors were gone and music
filled the theatre as the technical crew took over. The lighting crew
was behind because the original lighting designer, who the director
discovered was incompetent, quit the show and Jason was called in to
start from scratch. Community theatre can be that way. Jason was on
the board of directors and had been with the theatre since high
school. He was a classic techie-- quiet, lanky, rumpled. And Meg
wanted him. She was always turned on by competent, unassuming men.
The costume mistress looked around and found the lighting designer of
her fantasies perched on a tall ladder, focusing an instrument.
Meg shouted to the ceiling, "Hey Jason, how late do you think you'll
"I don't know, midnight.. one.. I'd like to get as much done as I can
tonight. How about you?"
"Well, if you're going to be here... I'll stay as late as I can. I
don't want to be here alone."
"Aw.. I'll leave the light on for you... They don't call it a
ghostlight for nothing!" Jason proceeded to make scary noises,
"Oo, I'm so scared! Protect me Jason! I'm sooo helpless!"
"You're helpless? Yearite, Meg! You're gonna give me a boner talking
"Bite me, Jason," Oh please, let me give him a boner, I know just what
I'd do with it, thought Meg. Just hearing Jason use the word 'boner'
in front of her got Meg's clenching. At the same time, though,
her heart was sinking. Jason was just fooling around, and Meg didn't
have a clue how to make her feelings known. She climbed up to the
dressing room and took Kate's gown off the rack. Meg had bought some
heavy duty elastic as well as plastic boning to reinforce the bodice.
The woman sighed realizing she'd be best off taking it apart and
starting from scratch. Why the director insisted that Kate/Amber go
braless was beyond her. Also, if she could convince Amber that she
was a DD, not a C cup... Meg was the same size as this girl, she knew
what she was talking about. Hmmm... Meg was the same size as the actress ... Meg could fit the bodice to herself, which would save a
lot of time... She let out a sigh of relief, the world wasn't out to
get her after all. The costume mistress got to work.
It was about 12:30 that night when Meg finished the bodice. She
hadn't yet sewn it to the skirt, Meg wanted to make sure it fit first.
She looked outside the dressing room and all was dark, except for the
ghostlight. Meg felt another stab of disappointment, Jason had left.
The purpose of the ghostlight, usually a bare bulb on a tall stand,
was to illuminate the stage so that the last one to leave or first one
to enter does not step off the stage and into the orchestra pit. He
did say he would leave the ghostlight on for her. Oh well, she
thought, I'll manage. Meg considered whether she wanted to continue
working or go home. Jason would have locked up, she was safe there...
Meg pulled her sweatshirt over her head and unhooked her bra. There
was no need to take off her jeans, since she was only fitting the top.
As she walked over to the makeup counter to pick up the garment, the
"Oh god, I'm sorry Meg! I should have knocked, I was just .. uh .."
Meg for a moment was just so thrilled that Jason hadn't left, that she
merely turned and hugged his lanky frame, not even bothering to cover
herself with the stiff fabric in her hand.
"You didn't leave me here alone! Oh!.. um.. I thought you weren't
here, I'm just fitting this... I saw just the ghostlight, so I
Meg realized what she had done and pulled away from Jason, trying to
cover herself. She felt the heat rise in her face as she tried to
turn away. But this was the dressing room, full of mirrors, Meg
couldn't escape Jason's image. Jason tried to hide a smile.
"I set up the ghostlight as soon as everyone left. I was in the
lighting booth, did you really think I would just leave you here?"
Meg felt herself melting at Jason's voice, "I guess not. I'm sorry."
Jason looked puzzled, "Sorry? For what?" The tall grinned, "If
you're fitting that, aren't you supposed to put it on?"
"Bite me, Jason," Meg snapped, "It's been a long day."
"I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone."
"No wait! Uh.. I'm going to need someone to lace me up... please?"
"Sure, you want me to turn around or something?"
"If you would."
Meg would have loved to have been more bold and let Jason watch, but
she was never the type to throw herself at a man. It's not that she
didn't have exhibitionist fantasies, she was in theatre, for Pete's
sake, but Meg wouldn't do that with a of whom she wasn't
absolutely certain. The woman laughed, she'd probably get laid
a lot more often if she did. Meg slid her arms into the sleeves and
pulled the bodice up onto her shoulders, slipping a hand down the
front to bring each up and out. She looked at herself in the
mirror, the bodice looked ridiculous while it was unlaced. Her
breasts were not going to stay up long with just the friction against
the fabric to hold them up.
"Okay Jason, you can turn around."
"So what do I do?"
"It's just like lacing a new pair of Converses, just start from the
Meg watched Jason in the mirror as he began to thread the laces
through the metal eyelets, a look of deep concentration on his face.
Her lower back was very ticklish and she tried to take steady breaths
to avoid involuntary shudders from Jason's touch. Meg's groin began
to ache and she felt a liquid ooze between her legs. Jason tugged on
the edge of the fabric, grazing calloused knuckles across Meg's back,
shudders cascaded up and down her back.
"You okay?" Jason asked.
"Ticklish," Meg was finding it difficult to breath.
"Am I making this too tight?"
"No, it's supposed to be this way, you could probably go tighter."
"I don't want you to pass out."
"If I did, it would be historically accurate," Meg laughed.
"You want me to do something?"
Take me, right here, on the floor! Meg cried out in her head. "Rub my
back, with the flat of your hand, to get the tickles out, please?"
Jason stepped closer, Meg could feel the heat of the man's body, his
breath on her exposed neck.
"Maybe I don't want to get the tickles out, maybe I like them where
they are," Jason smiled, but didn't look back at her in the mirror,
but appeared to be looking at her shoulder.
"It's up to you, I guess," replied Meg. Jason looked up and their
eyes connected for a moment, and he looked down.
"I'd better finish lacing this up for you... it's getting late."
Fuck! I blew it, Meg thought. I don't know how, but I blew it.
"Wait, let me do some adjusting before you strap me in all the way."
Jason stood back and Meg slipped her hand into the front of the
bodice, lifting her and arranging them so that they were
'lifted and separated.' Jason got an amused look on his face.
"Do all women adjust themselves like this?"
"I don't know about all women, but I have to, or I'd look ... well
... lumpy. Okay, you can finish lacing me up."
So finally, she was strapped in, just like the scene from 'Gone with
the Wind.' Meg moved and jumped and twisted, making sure that nothing
would pop loose when Petruchio tamed Kate. Jason watched. Meg felt
the electricity again, knowing that Jason stayed and watched.
"Well, it looks like it works. That's a relief, do you think you can
help me take it off?"
Jason didn't answer, but very carefully untied the laces. Meg felt
the heat again as he stood behind her. She wasn't sure if it was the
running and jumping or Jason that made her breathe heavy, but her
breasts were heaving over the tight bodice. Jason's hands stopped for
a moment and Meg watched him in the mirror as he looked down at her.
The look was unmistakable, and Meg felt her nipples crinkle against the
stiff boning. Jason's hand touched lightly at her waist as his head
dipped down. The behind Meg kissed her neck just below her ear,
smelled her hair ... and returned to unlacing the damned bodice!
"Forget the bodice!"
"No, it's late..."
Meg wanted to cry. She wanted him so badly and he was going to slip
through her fingers. Meg let her head droop and her shoulders sag,
indifferent to her nakedness as Jason lifted the bodice over her head.
She picked up her sweatshirt as he put the historical garment on a
hanger and replaced it on the rack with the other costumes. Meg
began to pull the sweatshirt over her head.
"What are you doing?" Jason asked.
"You said it was late..." Meg replied.
"It is late... Oh," Jason smiled. He tilted Meg's chin and looked
into her dejected little face. "Do you know why I didn't let anything
"Because you don't want me?"
"Because I didn't want to destroy the bodice. Same reason that sex is
forbidden in the lighting booth. You would have hated me in the
morning. Forgive me?" Jason slipped a hand underneath Meg's
sweatshirt, taking one full in his grasp.
Meg wrapped her arms around Jason and kissed him deeply.
"Bite me, Jason."