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Their first telephone conversation could not have foretold better the honesty and simplicity of the relationship which was to develop. Sophie knew what she wanted. He knew immediately that he could provide what she wanted and that he would enjoy making his contribution. Hers was the fourth of the calls arising from his advertisement
“Is that Christian who advertised about waist training?”
“Yes. Is that what you’d like to do?” He thought to himself; why delay the real questions?
“Well; yes. I want to start as soon as possible and make my waist small — tiny even. Can you tell me about it? I don’t have any money but may be able to pay you back one day.”
“I don’t want money from you. I want to be the person who helps you to train. Shall we meet soon and see what we think?”
Sophie was cautious for the first time. “I’m not looking for a man, you know. No sex. Do you know that? Your advert says business relationship. That’s all I want. You’ve got to understand that.”
“That’s fine. It’s all I want. I’ve an interest in waist training and I’ll want some pictures and maybe a video but nothing porno. You can believe me.” He sounded honest and convincing because that’s what he truly believed about himself and about their situation.
They met at a garden centre coffee shop, of all places. There was bustle in the garden centre, children playing on the swings and frames, the chink of cups and saucers, and they sat talking over tea and cake. It was the beginning of September 1984. She was surprised at his appearance. His voice had sounded younger but he was obviously about 40. He was quiet but not threatening. He reminded her of a schoolteacher she had once known: quiet, knowledgeable, confident, and inspiring. Without realising it, she was leaning towards him over the table and listening to every word he was speaking.
He liked her straight away. Sophie said that she was 24 years old and she seemed fit and healthy. His practised eye assessed her figure and he could see that she was dressed to hide a thick waist. Not that Sophie was heavy: he thought that she would be size 12 but with a waist of 30 or 32 inches. She was about 5 foot 4 inches tall. He spoke quietly and straightforwardly about waists and corsets. She seemed to want him to keep his voice down and he was happy to oblige because that was his inclination also.
“Have you an idea of the waist size you want?” he asked.
“Well, I’ve worn a theatre costume corset that was supposed to be 26 inches – that’s maybe 4 inches less than my normal figure. Depending on my weight at any time, you know. Is that good, do you think?”
He could not tell if she had answered his question so he tried again.
“Is 26 inches your target then? I’ve known some women who’ve looked for a 15-inch difference to their hips, let’s say. Do you have an idea of what you’d like to be?”
She was still cautious. “I’m not sure. I just want to be very small. Don’t ask why, please. I just do and I’ll do anything to get there. I’m risking a lot talking to you like this so please just go along with me until I’ve learned some more. Is that OK?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to push or pry. We’ll go at your speed. You use my knowledge and I’ll enjoy your success. How’s that sound?”
And so the bargain was reached. Within a few days, Sophie had visited Christian’s apartment and been measured. Her waist turned out to be the odd value of 31 inches; so he assumed it could be taken as 30 inches. There was quite some slackness in her torso muscles and fat around her waist, and he assessed that Sophie could take significant compression if the corset design was correct.
He ordered two corsets with the same reduction of six inches on her waist and another one at eight inches. All would be covered with white satin brocade, with a figured floral design. One was short, almost a waspie, for work and casual wear; another was the proper training corset, long and high for regular wear whenever possible and certainly through the night. The third tighter corset was styled with a distinct waspiness at the waist and to be worn for special occasions and as an “inducement.” Throughout the measurement and ordering process, Sophie was excited. She found herself going back to her house each day and reading into her interest, playing to excite herself and wearing her belts tighter than ever. The time spent waiting for the corsets to be delivered was the most tense of her life. She wanted to be on the way to her tiny waist, progressing towards her goal each day and week.
The corsets were delivered together, to Christian’s apartment. He laid them out on the table and looked at them carefully to see that they conformed to his order. He measured them and checked the bones and the stitching. That evening he called Sophie. He took the corsets to Sophie’s apartment and found her ready showered, talced, and dressed in a camisole under her housecoat. Sophie was excited by the prospect of her first real lacing, and Christian could see the bahis firmaları excitement in her eyes and her agitation.
He did not wish to spend too much time merely talking about their evening and was relieved at her haste. She threw off the housecoat and stood before him in panties and camisole. She was surprised at herself that she showed no embarrassment in front of this man who was practically a stranger. He had measured her and probably knew more about her body and its shape than even she ever did. He had advertised and Sophie had replied. He had touched, held and felt at her body without making advances. Here he was, standing fully clothed next to her, and in his hands the instrument of her excitement; the device which she had invited him to obtain for her and now he would encase her in it. From her earlier experiments with tight belts, she knew that her skin would be pressed, her breathing shortened, her movements restricted. In her imagination, she was already the enclosed tiny-waisted woman of her dreams. The palms of her hands could feel in prospect the hardness of her body within the corset, at some day in the future. Not long in the future, she hoped and planned.
Christian opened the parcel and lifted out the first corset; the one in which he wanted to enclose her at this beginning; the long training model with waist of about 24 inches. He pulled at the two halves of the corset and opened the laces as much as he could. Sophie raised her arms as he wrapped the corset around her torso and fastened it on the eight studs at the front. It seemed loose and big on her. She tugged the front busk into position, straight down from her breasts to her groin. The top seemed very open; floppy almost. The waist imposed no pressure whatever on her body. A sense of disappointment began to dawn over Sophie and her eyes turned to look at Christian, as if to say, “Why can’t I feel anything? Why is it so loose? Did you order it too big?”
Christian saw the look and spoke reassuringly.
“We haven’t started lacing you yet, so you’ll feel loose. The waist on this corset will reduce you by 6 inches and it’s my hope we’ll to do that this evening. Shall we start?”
She nodded but did not speak. Christian moved around to the back of the corset and took up the slack in the two loops of lacing. From experience, he believed that it was important to start the lacing from the top edge downwards toward the waist. He started and pulled the laces until the top edge was open by about two inches. It had been ordered to fit her measurements with an extra half-inch to accommodate any displaced flesh or fat. Then he moved down her back and fastened the bottom to the same degree, at the same time as he ensured that the entire length of the lace eyelets gradually came together as nearly parallel as possible. Christian tied off the laces in a simple knot. The process took 10 minutes or so and Sophie either held her hands crossed over her head or else, from time to time, held her waist and patted her abdomen.
At the end of this first stage, Sophie was covered by the corset but not really encased in it. The top and bottom edges were each open by two inches or maybe a fraction more, and the waist by about four inches. Although neither of them commented on it, her waist was already compressed by about two inches. Christian stood back and Sophie moved about, taking a step or two and bending a little at her waist. She walked slowly towards the long mirror in her room and surveyed herself. Two aspects impressed her immediately. First, that she was covered and already shaped in a new way. Secondly, that she felt no discomfort or even restriction. For a moment, her disappointment began to return until she felt around her back with a hand, and felt the laces open by more than the breadth of her hand. For the first time that that moment, Sophie realised that her body was to be compressed and shaped more than she had thought. Much more. Her disappointment transformed into a slight apprehension as she reached round again and felt at the extent of the openness of the corset. All these thoughts and emotions had taken only a few seconds although she had come to a new lifetime’s appreciation of the process she had started.
“We’ll leave it there for a few minutes,” said Christian, “so that the corset can warm up to your body heat. That’s important so the fabric can swell and move a little. We’ll lace you a little more later. Let’s have a drink. What’s in your fridge?”
Sophie thought he meant alcohol but instead he moved towards her fridge, visible in her kitchen, and lifted out the milk. Obviously her meant tea or coffee. She felt relieved that he was acting in this ordinary manner. If he was excited, she could not detect it. He was being so matter-of-fact. Little did she realise the degree and the stiffness of his erection inside his tight briefs, inside his trousers. Hidden from her and the world but very obvious and pleasurable to Christian. His fetish was in full swing as he planned the rest of the evening.
They kaçak iddaa drank some tea with Sophie sitting on a high dining chair and then spent a few minutes in the bathroom. In fact, she learned an early lesson in the management of her bladder and bowel. Even the slight pressure from her corset required her to empty her bladder for longer than she could remember. As she sat and then stood again, she realised that she would need help in the bathroom in her tight laced future. She spent a few moments looking at the walls and wondering where to have handles fitted.
When Sophie returned to the living room, Christian stood up and moved round her, to recommence the lacing without any preamble. He motioned his hands over her figure to feel the tension in the fabric and the temperature of her body transferred to the corset. First, he moved his hands over intimate parts of her body to smooth down the fabric, and murmured “Sorry” or ” ‘Scuse me.” Then he undid the knot in the laces and repeated the earlier process. Bottom to waist; top to waist. He made the adjustments repeatedly at just a fraction of an inch each time. After twenty minutes, the top and bottom edges were almost closed but for half an inch. The waist was open by about 1½ inches. Sophie was panting a little but her eyes were bright, he noticed. Whilst he was behind her, where she thought he could not see her hands, she reached down and held her mound. She allowed her middle finger to explore a little before recovering her composure and controlling herself.
“Shall I stop now?” asked Christian, “Or do you want me to close you in?”
His words took her a little by surprise. Sophie had not understood that he would offer her the option of stopping short of full closure. Also, he had said “close you in,” not “close the corset” or “close the laces.” She realised that her body was to be subjected to this corset; not simply that the corset was to be closed upon her. She was excited and intrigued by the language, and apprehensive again.
“Don’t stop,” she replied. “Close the laces, please.”
“I will. Are you quite sure? It might not be easy, you know.”
“I want to know what it’s like. Don’t stop, even if I ask you. Will you do that?”
“If you’re sure. Arms up. Take a deep breath and try to relax into the corset as it tightens. OK now?”
Sophie nodded and took the deep breath. As she breathed out, she learned something about relaxing and repeated the exercise throughout the process which was to come.
As the top and bottom edges of the corset closed, Christian noticed that her eyes stared a little, unblinking and open. She had moved her hands to hold her ribs and her stomach, rubbing and patting herself as the pressure built up inside the corset. From his position, he could see that the lacing was moving to the serious stage. Quite soon now, he knew, Sophie would feel the full pressure of confinement within the corset; her body would react with internal adjustments; she would ask him to stop, he expected. He carried on the lacing at the same unhurried but deliberate pace. He knew he must warn her about the final stage.
“Are you ready now?” he asked quietly. “This won’t be easy, you know, but I’m ready to give you the full shape.”
“Yes,” Sophie gasped, “finish it now. Don’t stop.”
Christian crossed the laces over from simply pulling through the eyelets, and got himself in position to exert heavy leverage on the corset edges. There was about 1½ inches, making an oval opening. Sophie’s camisole was gathered inside the opening and he could sense the creasing of her skin as the flesh and fat were pushed into place. He took one of the crossed-over laces in each hand and flexed his shoulders. With a steady, strong pull he forced the laces out of the eyelets and the edges of the corset moved towards closure. He was concentrating on his efforts and to make sure that the corset closed uniformly without pinching Sophie’s skin. He did not realise the reaction from the woman inside the corset.
Sophie was panting quite distinctly now. Her mouth was wide open, as were her eyes. Her hands were pressed against her abdomen and groin. She breathed out with the words; “It’s very tight. I can’t take any more. Will you stop?”
“No. It’s not closed yet. We said we’d close you in.”
With continued force, Christian closed the corset. One inch became three-quarters and so on until there was only a small fraction of an inch between the edges. With one extra levering pull, he closed Sophie into her personal prison. Quickly he tied the laces into a knot behind her back and then he stood away. She was 24 inches in her waist: a reduction of 6 inches.
She stood gasping, with her hands on her waist and massaging her constrained body. She lifted one foot and made as if to make a step but she staggered and Christian had to support her.
“I must go to the bathroom again,” she said and put out her hand for him to lead her there. This was no place or time for modesty and she let him take her into kaçak bahis the room and help her sit. Never in her adult life had anyone taken her panties off in the bathroom but she let it happen today. He had to let her down slowly into her sitting position and she realised that he would have to help her stand up again. And so that is what happened. Two almost-strangers involved in the intimate bodily function because of the new control to which she had agreed to be subjected. She gave it almost no thought because this was what she wanted. She emptied her body of liquids and solids, and he helped her in every way to be comfortable and in cleaning her.
After a few minutes, and with the relief in the bathroom, she felt more relaxed. She replaced the housecoat and Christian began to make moves to leave. They talked over her arrangements for sleeping and dressing. Sophie showed him that she could get into bed and to dress in clothes from her wardrobe. She had decided to wear loose clothes for the next few days and pointed to a sensible pair of shoes. Christian disagreed with her choice.
“It’ll be better if you wear heels – as high as you can manage. You’ll find walking easier with the tension in your calves,” he told her.
Christian took some photographs of her in the corset and left after spending over four hours lacing and working with her figure. He left behind with her the other two corsets and they arranged for him to return over the following days and weeks. They both knew that she wanted to be alone with her new compression and the excitement she got from it. After he left, she went immediately to lie in the dark and spent the rest of the night feeling and touching her newly shaped body. Now, she knew she had arrived at an important stage in her journey towards fulfilment and excitement.
That evening was the first of over fifty sessions of sharing and learning for Sophie. Of course, to the surprise of neither of them, their friendship grew into one long erotic encounter. It started at one of the early lacing sessions.
He had laced her in the longer corset almost to its 24 inch closure and she was panting a little. He saw her face in the mirror, on the wall of the room. Her eyes were not staring wide open as he expected; they were half closed and she was either about to faint or else reach an orgasm. That’s how it seemed to him. Her hands were on her lower abdomen, pressing on her groin and the tight front of the corset. He tied off the laces and walked round to her right side. His erection was hard inside his cream trousers but held close to him by his tight briefs.
“Are you OK?” he asked.
In reply, Sophie moved slightly towards him and her thigh brushed against his erection. He did not back away and she turned her head to look into his face through her half-lowered eyelids, as her thigh continued to press against him. She took his right hand and placed it on her abdomen. Then she pushed it gently downwards until he could feel the bottom edge of the corset and the taut pubic mound. Not a word was spoken; not even a sound apart from their breathing. He let his hand slip further without her urging, and felt the dampness of her sexual juices as they seeped through her panties. His hand was then flat on her mound with just his middle finger probing between her legs and pressing upwards on her labia. He pressed a little firmer and she made the first sound of the encounter.
“Aaah,” he heard, and moved his finger a little. “Aaah,” she repeated.
Then, taking him by surprise, she reached out her right hand and pressed on his erection, through the trousers. They were both ready and the next few minutes became a flurry of clothing and limbs. In a few seconds, he threw off his shirt, stepped out of his shoes, and unbuckled his belt to let his trousers fall to his ankles. He kicked them to one side and then reached out to remove her panties. But there was a problem; she was wearing them underneath the corset and that was rigid tight from her waist to her groin. He hooked his fingers under the elastic band and tugged but there was no movement. He had an idea and urged her to kneel on the carpet, facing away from him.
Taking the panties in both hands, with one on either side, he forced his arms apart and the gusset of the panties shredded in his hands. As she knelt, panting and waiting, he pushed his briefs down an inch or two so that the waist band settled under his scrotum. Slowly and deliberately, he entered her and she shuddered with the pressure inside the corset, but also with the pleasure of the sensation of being filled while shaped and contained. It was her initiation into corset-sex and she knew that she was hooked for life.
He made love to her gently and steadily, holding her waist from behind. She placed a hand on her clitoris and pressed herself in rhythm with his thrusting. Her orgasm came quickly and Sophie spread out both hands on the carpet and raised her bottom as far as she could, within the limitation of the corset. He came to his climax a few seconds later, and filled her with his hot juices and sperms. For a few moments they stayed there, neither moving, with his hands still on her compressed waist and she drooping her head as the pleasure-waves subsided.
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