Laundry Tales 11: The Maze

We spent most of the afternoon making the preparations for Ralph. The dead end was exaggeratedly feminine and we had thought of another enhancement. As he went deeper into the final section it would be sectioned like lobster traps, easier to enter than to exit. If he turned around each section would no longer be open for him. Finally we used a lot of some cheap perfume on it before attaching it. By five o'clock everything was ready. The flysheet covered the whole of our work. I checked. It was very dark inside. Even by seven o'clock, when it would still be daylight, Ralph would be attempting the Maze in almost complete blackness.

When he arrived he was still overconfident. He barely listened to my explanation. I didn't include the part about ducking underneath all the layers to reach the centre. Why should I? He seemed so sure of himself.

Joyce was already waiting in the centre. She had a little light coming through the culvert and would be able to see when and if Ralph reached the last modified section. If he admitted that he was in trouble, she could tell him how to crawl out, or even go in to get him. But she heard Ralph's loud and confident statements. She wouldn't help unless he really panicked.

I lifted the flysheet and pulled the side of the black satin apron aside so Ralph could start. He recoiled at the sight of the petticoat but plunged in -- the wrong way. I dropped the apron back into place, plunging Ralph into darkness. Perhaps I shouldn't have laced the tent's door shut under the apron as we would do at night...

Ralph's blundering progress was punctuated by faint swearing that became louder as he became more entangled. Of course, he wouldn't stoop to avoid the enveloping petticoats. If he had lowered his dignity to crawl on hands and knees, not only would he have passed through the maze quicker, but he might have avoided our trap. We knew Ralph too well. His masculine superiority wouldn't let him admit defeat.

It was at least a quarter of an hour before Ralph was in the final layers. I had joined Joyce. We could hear him clearly and in the dim light could see the petticoat layers bulging and swaying as he struggled through. At last he was in the final section. He should have realised it was different. Unlike the white layers so far, our trap was in black satin, like the apron, because we had used all the white for the unmodified Maze. It also continued underfoot, unlike the rest of the Maze.

Joyce and I held our breath as we saw his shape wriggle through the first part, then past the first no-return section. The drawstring hadn't worked as well as we had intended but the two of us quietly tightened it, detaching the dead end from the slit in the crinoline. It was still suspended from above, but we had made those attachments with weak thread. We hoped that Ralph's blundering would break them.

He did. The part he had passed slumped to the ground as he trampled his way onwards. Very quietly and carefully we gathered up the loose end, twisted it and tied it in a knot. We made it very fast with the length of drawstring. Whatever Ralph did now, he couldn't retreat. The whole trap was about twenty feet long and Ralph was almost at its end, having triggered three no-return parts and pulled down half of the tube behind him.

"Shit!" Ralph exclaimed.

He had come against the sealed end. As we expected, he thought he just had to reverse to get into another part of the Maze. But he was now in a bag of satin that we had tied shut. His attempts to go back broke the last few suspension threads. He rolled on the ground in a bundle. He writhed backwards and forwards, entangling himself further with discreet assistance from Joyce and me.

"Help," Ralph said quietly. "I'm stuck. Blast these women. They've played a trick on me."

If we hadn't been beside him we wouldn't have heard that. We didn't reply.

"Help." That was louder but we still wouldn't have heard it outside. We waited.

"Help!" That was better. Ralph was really trying to attract someone's attention.

"HELP!" Ralph shouted really loudly. As we had agreed, one of the women outside replied:

"OK Ralph. We heard you. We'll send someone in to get you."

Joyce and I waited for about half a minute while Ralph swore quietly to himself. We made noises with our feet as if we were coming through the culvert.

"You have got yourself into a tangle, Ralph," I said in a normal voice.

"We can't see well enough to unwrap you," Joyce added. "We'll have to get you out into the light first."

Ralph tried to protest. He didn't want to appear in front of all the women while helplessly wrapped in a black satin petticoat. Eventually he accepted that we couldn't see. He couldn't with layers of black material all around him.

We dragged him down the steps, through the culvert and many hands carried his bundled form to the front of the tent. We watched gleefully as his swathed form writhed on the ground. It was good to see Ralph so helpless at our feet.

"Get me out!" he yelled.

"Keep still!" I ordered. "I can't help while you are wriggling. Still!"

I took my needlework scissors out of my skirt pocket, knelt down, and started to unpick the end seam. There was no way he could come out the other end, even if Joyce and I hadn't knotted it tight.

"Hurry up!" Ralph yelled again. "I'm suffocating in here."

He wasn't, otherwise he couldn't have yelled so loudly. I kept cutting threads slowly and carefully until I could see his hair. I cut a few more threads before unwrapping Ralph's head. He was still tightly bound from his neck downwards. I put his head on my skirted lap. There was a strong aroma of cheap scent from his hair.

"Well, Ralph," I said conversationally, "you lost. You didn't get out of the Maze. You've got yourself into a hopeless tangle and have damaged our handiwork. Are you going to apologise?"

"Apologise?" he snorted. "No, I'm not! You got me in this mess. Now get me out!"

I leant backwards so that all of us could see Ralph's head protruding through layers of flouncy material. I picked up a couple of folds and held it in front of his face.

"No apology? Then I'll just cover you up again, add a few stitches, and you can stay here."

"All night if necessary," Joyce added, stifling a giggle.

Ralph's body thrashed violently. It didn't make any difference to his confinement. I pushed layers of cloth over his face and bent forward. My bosom was pressing the layers downwards.

"Gerroff, you bitch! You're smothering me!"

"I thought you liked breasts, Ralph?" I said sweetly."You're always grabbing at them. Don't you like being so close to mine?"

I locked my arms under my legs to increase the pressure across his face.

"Stop it -- please?" His voice was really muffled. "Please get me out. I'll apologise."

I relaxed the pressure. I could hear him panting for breath. Perhaps I had smothered him hard, but we had endured too much from Ralph. I lifted the cloth off his reddened face.

"Apology first, or you stay here," I said.

"Bitch," he whispered.

"You might think so," I replied calmly, "but you would be better advised to keep your thoughts to yourself while you are in this predicament. Are you going to apologise?"

"I suppose I have to, Hilary."

"You do, Ralph, unless you like the idea of being wrapped and imprisoned in petticoats all night long. If you don't, I'll cover your head again and we'll drag you back into the centre of the Maze, lace the tent shut and leave you. No one would hear you yelling through the layers of petticoat and those in the Maze, even if anyone came near this part of the gardens. Why would they? Someone might, sometime tomorrow, but not this evening. They're getting dressed for dinner, as we should be in the next quarter of an hour. So -- time's up for you, Ralph. Apologise now or you're back in the Maze all night."

I had spoken fiercely because I really meant it. We would happily leave Ralph bundled up all night long. He had been that much of a nuisance, not just to us, but to the younger female servants. They can't retaliate but we could, and have.

Eventually Ralph did apologise. I had to prompt him several times before his apology was sufficiently grovelling to be acceptable to us. As I gradually unpicked stitches and extricated him from the yards of satin I told him what we women had agreed beforehand.

If Ralph molested a woman in the next couple of weeks, we women would ambush him at a time and place of our choice, bundle him up, and might bring him to the Maze to stay inside all night long. We would be very sensitive to any complaint from the women servants. A single word from one of them about Ralph's unwelcome attentions, and he would be in the Maze.

Grudgingly he accepted our warning. I don't think he thought we would really do it. He stalked off angrily leaving a scent trail of that cheap perfume.

We sewed another trap just in case we needed to use it on Ralph. We had used the black satin to make a long bag trimmed like a nightdress.

I enjoyed making that trap. I used George as our mannequin. Joyce wanted to use Nigel too, but their relationship was still fairly recent. She wasn't sure how Nigel would react to being frequently humiliated. George took it in good part even when I tickled his helpless body.

Our first attempt was too narrow at the lower end. Although effective when George was inside, we couldn't get him inside it without his cooperation. We knew that Ralph wouldn't help us bundle him up.

We widened the skirt of the nightdress/bag to make it a large conical shape, at least six feet long before it was constricted by the elastic at the knees. The lower hem had a long draw cord. When George's head was protruding from the neckline, which would eventually have a closed hood attached, the lower hem splayed around his feet. We kept tripping over it.

We had sewn tunnels in the satin approximately at the captive's knees, thighs, waist, and chest. While George was standing inside the bag we adjusted the elastic in those tunnels so that they were loose enough to allow us to pull the bag down, yet tight enough to impede the captive's movements.

Inside the bag, sewn to each tunnel, we had frills like skirts, each ending with the hem in another smaller tunnel restricted by elastic. As we pulled the bag down George's body, the hem of each of those frills caught on his clothing and flipped upwards. Instead of four elastic restraints, the bag now had eight. As we had hoped, despite the bag pulling down George's body easily, the eight restraints impeded his arms and hands. Once inside, even with the lower hem loose, George could not extricate himself from our satin prison. Even two women took more than a minute to get George out. On my own it took me three minutes with George helping as much as he could.

Poor George had been wonderful. After the first couple of false starts we could bag him in seconds. Once the first trap was completed, I asked him to try to stop us before he was confined. He could frustrate me on my own, or two of us, but whatever he did, three or more women could force him inside. But George knew and could see what we were doing. We hoped that Ralph would be taken by surprise, at least the first time.

Once we had completed one bag including attaching the hood which George didn't like at all, we made another identical one, just in case we had to catch Ralph twice. We thought if he had spent a long time confined we might need to wash the first nightdress/bag/trap. As a final touch we sewed strong loops to the outside seams at the ankles, hips and shoulders. They could be carrying holds, or for securing a helpless Ralph to a bed.

Joyce and I decided that we liked the idea of confining our men. We would keep one black satin trap each once this summer was over. Then we had another idea. There was some white satin, not enough to be used in the Maze, but plenty to make several nightdresses. Perhaps we could wear a white satin nightdress on the first night of our honeymoons?

Once all of us had completed the black nightdress traps for Ralph, Joyce and I continued to sew away on our own. We made conventional white satin nightdresses for each of us, and two versions of trap white satin nightdresses for our husbands-to-be.

***

For the next couple of days Ralph behaved himself. But on Saturday afternoon he pinched a maid's bottom and Joyce saw him do it.

Late that evening, long after dinner, he was dressed in his pyjamas and dressing gown, walking from the bathroom towards his bedroom. Two of us blocked his way. He tried to walk between them but Joyce and I had crept up behind him. His dressing gown went flying as we threw the nightdress over his head. All four of us pulled in down. The elastic sewn in tunnels around the ankles, knees, waist, chest and neck spread as the black nightdress was pulled down but tightened around Ralph when we had finished. His head was hooded in a bag sewn to the neck of the nightdress. The lower hem had a drawstring.

Joyce knelt behind him as I pushed him over. The other two caught his body as his feet flew into the air. Joyce wriggled around to clamp her hand over where Ralph's mouth would be. The cloth was too thick for him to bite her hand. I yanked the nightdress beyond his flailing feet and knotted the drawstring tight. Ralph was bagged, blindfolded and helpless again. We carried him to his bedroom and laid him on the bed. Someone brought his dressing gown and put it on a chair.

"This is for the chambermaid Anne," I said against Ralph's ear. "You shouldn't have pinched her backside. We'll leave you to contemplate your sins."

Our needlework had included sturdy loops at the waist, shoulders and ankles. A few ropes threaded through those loops and the bundled Ralph was secured in the centre of his bed. No amount of struggling would get him off the bed or out of that nightdress.

"If you're going to leave me like this," Ralph protested, "could you at least take my slippers off..."

"OK, Ralph, but don't try to kick me." I replied.

"I'll sit on his legs," Joyce said.

She did. I thought she would just perch on him. She hauled up her evening gown and straddled his thighs.

I unfastened the drawstring and removed Ralph's slippers, tightening the drawstring again. Joyce startled me. She moved up his body and settled her pantied crotch across his erection.

"I could do anything to you now," Joyce announced. "Even this."

She shuffled up to lower her muff across his covered face. She was face sitting him. Ralph's legs tried to thrash but were too securely bound. Joyce pounded up and down, obviously exciting herself. I was aroused too. I enjoyed seeing Ralph's humiliation.

Joyce's punishment was only a demonstration of his helplessness. It lasted less than half a minute but she had made her point, and ours. Ralph was at our mercy. She climbed off him, grinning broadly.

I gave Ralph our final message.

"We're leaving you like this, but we will send Anne the chambermaid along shortly. It is up to her whether you spend the whole night bagged in a nightdress or whether she lets you out. Whichever she does, if you offend again, you will be punished again. Good night."

We walked out of his bedroom and shut the door loudly. Anne was waiting in the corridor. She had seen and heard everything.

"Up to you now, Anne," I said. "He's all yours."

"I'm not sure I want him," Anne said, "but I'll make sure he regrets molesting the servants. He has made several of the younger ones cry in the last few days."

We left her to do whatever she wanted to Cousin Ralph. We don't know what she did, but that bondage nightdress was outside my bedroom next morning. It needed washing. There was a suspicious stain where his groin had been. Ralph looked almost contrite at breakfast. It didn't fit with his normal character.

We hoped that he had learned his lesson. He was subdued for the next few days.

The Maze was a success at the Fete. We had to do a last minute modification in the morning. The weight of the black satin apron that covered the entrance pulled at my waist. We removed the long streamers and tacked the apron's waistband to the top of the tent. We quickly made a small apron with the full length streamers trailing down the massive skirt. I tucked the small apron behind the fixed apron and perched at the top of the tent pretending to be Anne Boleyn for three hours.

Almost all those who entered the Maze were girls although one did drag her younger brother through. They all found their way through easily, some coming back for another transit -- and more sweets. At the end of the afternoon George helped me to climb down from my perch. I wrapped the apron's streamers several times around my waist. At the bottom of the ladder I grabbed him for a kiss in the dim interior before we went out through the culvert.

Outside, the women had gathered to celebrate the Maze's success. For once, our fete had produced an adventure for girls.

Joyce grabbed me and pushed me against George's chest. They had obviously planned something as we were surrounded. My apron strings were undone, wrapped around both of us, then tied again, with George's wrists crossed and secured at the back of my waist. Joyce lifted the side of the apron entrance to the Maze.

"Go on, you two," she ordered. "Show us how it's done."

George and I, tied together, were pushed into the Maze. The apron doorway was laced back in place.

"Well, Hilary," George said, "You made it. You should know the way through."

"I didn't expect to thread a maze tied to you, George, but while we are..."

My hands and arms were free. I pulled his head down so our lips met for a long kiss. I shuffled backwards, still holding George's head and maintaining that kiss. We soon reached a closed end and were tangled in petticoat material.

I pulled my lips slightly away.

"Oh dear," I said, "I seem to have gone the wrong way, and we're stuck."

George laughed.

"The wrong way, Hilary? That was deliberate, you minx. But while we are stuck, and I'm tied to your apron strings..."

He tried to kneel down in front of me. The apron ties only allowed him to slide part way down my body. I could barely see him but I could feel where he was. I dropped my hands to his shoulders and was about to pull his head to my breasts.

"Wait a second," George said. "I have something to say."

I waited. Surely he didn't mean? He did.

George proposed with his eyes at the level of my breasts, tangled in the Maze of petticoats and tied to my apron strings.

I squeaked "Yes" before clamping him to my breasts so hard I nearly smothered him. I dragged both of us to our knees, and kissed him again and again.

"Now can we get out of here?" George asked. "The engagement ring is in my pocket but I can't get at it. If you tried in this gloom we might drop it. You must know how to get to the centre of this Maze easily."

Of course I did. We dropped to the floor and awkwardly wriggled underneath all the layers. Once in the centre I untied my apron strings, releasing George's wrists. The top of the tent was open because I wasn't sitting on the apex. We could see.

George found the ring, dropped to his knees again, and held it out to me. He fitted it to my finger. I hugged and kissed him again.

We left through the culvert. As we joined the other women I held out my left hand, showing my new ring. Joyce reacted so quickly that I thought she must have suspected. She did. She had conspired with George. He had set himself up to be tied to me and pushed into the Maze so that he could propose in private.

Of course our engagement meant that George was hugged and kissed by all our friends. It seems that everyone except me knew that George was going to propose today.

***

Cousin Ralph came close to needing retaliation again. He tried to grab another female servant's breast. She avoided his hand and just said: