Original Fiction by "Danny"

Oh, how I complained when, at the tender age of fourteen, Mummy insisted that I wear old fashioned corsets with bones and laces. Not one of my friends wore them, I bleated tearfully, not anyone at all. In fact, I had not even heard of corsets until then. Mummy was completely unaffected. "I was exactly the same, darling, and, when I was your age, lots of girls wore them." The corset maker nodded. " I wish I was as busy now as when your Mummy was a girl. Now let's get on with fitting your lovely corset."

I must say I had a very good, very mature figure for my age. My breasts were full and well-shaped, my waist was much smaller than any of my friends, and my hips and bottom looked fine in the jeans I
usually wore. But when Mummy and the corset maker fastened the busk, as I learnt it was called, and began to haul in the laces, my figure began to look incredible. Strangely, the feeling was quite incredible too. The corset was neither very rigidly boned nor very long in relation to the models I wear nowadays as a matter of course. However, I found the feeling of firmness and compression, particularly over my tummy and bottom, very pleasant.

The corset maker saw my smile. "There," she said to Mummy, "I said Dorothy would be a good subject. We could have started her with a training corset right from the word 'go'." The lacing was completed to their satisfaction, after a few rests, and the suspenders were fastened securely to serious looking lisle stockings, and, apart from a few aches - particularly when I bent to put on my new high heeled court shoes - I felt just fine.

The corset was not high enough to reach my bosom but it was tight enough to force a lot of surplus flesh and fat up to it. The corset maker had anticipated this and helped me on with a new quite firm but agreeably much larger bra. My bust seemed much bigger and so beautifully shaped.So, wearing just a low cut sweater, a wrap-over skirt and my wide red leather belt fastened tighter than I could have ever believed, we went out for my first corseted walk. Lots of people looked at me oddly and I soon realised why. The corset, my lovely corset, held me quite rigid and upright. "Hardly anyone walks like me," I said to Mummy. "More's the pity," she replied.I was only to be corseted after school, at weekends and during the holidays and I really missed the embrace of my corset when I was not wearing it.

When I left school, my real corset training was to begin and, from a couple of months before the appointed date, I was looking forward to it with eager anticipation. Mummy was so pleased with my reaction and my appearance that she had begun to wear a real corset again herself and we had had lots of fun helping each other to get laced up and dressed.

Mummy told me that she had promised my father when I was a little girl that I should be properly corseted when I grew up . Sadly, he had died as a result of a terrible car accident and Mummy said that without the admiration of a husband to encourage her she had abandoned the tight-laced regime she had enjoyed since she was only fifteen. She had started off this time wearing the same model of corset as me but she had quickly graduated to a heavier, longer and, of course, much, much tighter one. It was really rigidly boned as well. Mummy was very pleased with herself. " Everyone used to say that if you had got used to being very tightly corseted and then stopped you would never be able to lace tightly again to anything like the same size, I’m so delighted that I’ve managed it," Mummy said, " I think it's because we eat much more sensibly now. Just look at me, darling!" She did look beautiful standing there in her corset, stockings and shoes, and I asked her whether it hurt to be laced so tightly. Her waist could have been no more than nineteen inches. She smiled at me in such a patient way. "Yes, darling. Sometimes it really does hurt a lot. I realise now that once you learn to love being pulled in really tightly, any pain or discomfort can and has to be endured." I kissed her impulsively and she laughed as my flimsy busk knocked against the long hard front of her stays.

At last the day I had waited for so eagerly finally came. I had left school, and the corset maker, by now an old friend, was to come to our house within the hour. She came carrying a big box. "Here's your new corset wardrobe!" she called out as she came up the steps to the front door," And some other things as well." It was then that I learnt that being properly corseted was, in effect, to become my career. I was told that I was far too plump for tight lacing to be properly effective, that it was a waste of time to try and corset fat away. Before I could even try on my new corsets I had to spend as much time ‘as was necessary' in what my mother called the Rubber Maiden.

Mummy helped me off with the corset I was wearing and the corset maker unwrapped an incredible garment. The Rubber Maiden looked like a big doll made of thick latex. It was boned and laced right down the back and along the legs and arms. Heavy looking zips would fasten over the laces. Mummy and the corset maker tugged the Rubber Maiden over my legs and up my trunk. They loosened the laces on the arms just sufficiently so that my arms could be squeezed in. Then they began to pull in the laces. The latex was thick, as I have said, and there was little give. I felt totally enclosed by it and the whole effect was rather impossible to take in. The laces were finally closed and they pulled the zips shut. I was quite helpless and Mummy and the corset maker began to pull an all enveloping latex hood down over my head There was a hole by my nostrils for me to breathe but that was all. Then I felt a corset being fastened and laced onto my body so tightly that I could not imagine being able to breathe at all.

I must have fainted because, when I woke up, the room was dark. Strangely, the feeling of intense constriction was not disagreeable. Mummy was close by because she must have felt me wake up and I could feel her caressing my legs and arms through the latex. They told me afterwards that I stayed in the Rubber Maiden for two days without being released and, apart from brief respite for hygienic an d sanitary purposes, I stayed in it for another week.

When I was finally released, I cried, because I missed the tightness. Mummy said that soon I should regard it as an old friend. As soon as I put on any weight at all the Rubber Maiden would be strapped on until it was gone. For the moment, though, their object had been achieved and I was now slim enough to wear the new training corset.

This was like nothing I could ever have imagined and even Mummy was astounded at it. It stretched from my neck to my knees and was almost solidly boned with rigidsteel stays. It sounded quite frightening but the corset maker said that wearing it constantly for a period of time would crush and bend my ribs so that my 'normal' day and night corsets would find my body almost the right shape to be able to adapt to the kind of reduction planned for me. Again, there would be times when I should have to go back to wearing the training corset for a few weeks continuously. Mummy told me later that they managed in the space of a month to reduce my waist to sixteen inches. I had literally been encased, rigid, quite unable to move, for nearly six weeks now. The corset maker suggested that it was time for me to get some exercise, because my muscles would get too weak otherwise.

The training corset was removed and quickly replaced by my new day corset, which laced easily and quickly to my new shape except for the last two inches - which demanded some extra pulling and tugging on the stay laces to close the corset properly. I proudly measured my new waist and it was
only fifteen inches. The corset maker said that she had never achieved such reduction so quickly before. "That's modern technology for you!" laughed Mummy. I practiced walking about indoors on heels that were nearly five inches high and found it very strange after such a long period of complete inactivity. The feel of my new day corset was completely different to anything I had ever experienced before. I had lost a lot of weight in the Rubber Maiden and they were quite right when they said that the continuous wearing of the training corset would actually change the shape of my rib cage so that it would cave in immediately below my bust. The corset was tremendously tight, but I felt I could still pull myself in so as to relieve the pressure. When I commented on this, Mummy and the corset maker were very pleased.

When I read what I have written it sounds as if the process I had been through was really quite unexceptional. It wasn't! I can still remember the pain quite distinctly - the continuous discomfort - my inability to move myself into a comfortable position in bed - to move at all in bed! I haven't even mentioned the long leather gloves I wore. Even they had boning in them so that my arms were kept straight and immovable. You won't believe it, but they were laced tight too - even each individual finger! Sometimes Mummy used to haul them up with straps to a hook on the ceiling because it would make them smaller. My poor feet, too! They were bandaged with wet linen after my toes had been bent under one another. Then Mummy would dry the linen with the hair dryer and the linen would shrink and compress my toes and feet.

Then, again, during this training period and even now, hard tight leather cases would be drawn onto each leg up to the knee and laced as tight as could be. I think Mummy reduced my shoe size by two. Remember, I had not stopped growing yet, and Mummy said she just could not allow them to grow naturally. All this was agony but, somehow, Mummy managed to convince me that the pain was not only necessary, but could be enjoyable. I have spoken before about Mummy's work on herself with the stay lace. Somehow this made it more bearable to bear.

Mummy interrupted my thoughts. I had been talking to Mummy about the fact that the day corset still allowed me to suck in my tummy a little bit. "Just you wait until tonight, darling. Once we've got your night corset on I think you will find that quite impossible." I wasn't the least bit upset at the news, and looked forward to trying on this new garment quite eagerly. There was only one problem that worried me.

"I'm really upset," I told them, "that I shall never be able to wear jeans again."

"We guessed that," said the corset maker with a chuckle. "I'm not sure whether you will actually want to wear jeans after a while but we found it amusing to anticipate you. If you've got the energy to let us unlace this corset and put on another one, you'll see what we mean!" To my astonishment the corset maker produced a corset just as rigid and indented as the one I was wearing but with legs on it Each leg was boned and laced separately and they were long enough to reach my knees. I couldn't wait to try it and agreed. "We'll do it really quickly, because you've reached that happy stage where to be without a corset for even a few minutes now will be really unpleasant." It was true. My body was now so used to the constant and unrelenting pressure of the stays that I felt I would fall to pieces when the stay lace was untied.

Quickly the corset with legs was fastened and laced. The boning went right down the back and front of each leg so I certainly had less, rather than more, mobility - particularly when the leg sections were tightly laced. It feels very strange from my knees downward," I commented.

"Just let us put these stretch jeans on you and we'll soon solve that problem,." said Mummy. They picked me up and put me on the bed and pulled on a pair of really tight elasticised stretch jeans on me. The sweater Mummy selected made the most of my bosom and the cleavage was really something to write home about! Then Mummy produced a pair of boots with heels as high as the ones I had been wearing. The only difference was they were of very strong and supple leather, had boning in them and laced all the way down the back. I guessed that they would reach well above my knees and they did! They were laced as tight as they would go and I realised that most of my body was now tight laced. I said as much and Mummy said that the plan was to corset me completely. I found the idea thrilling particularly when they stood me up on my heels and Mummy challenged me to walk.

Every inch of me below my armpits was now firmly, and tightly contained. The legged corset with its continuous boning and the boned boots coming up over my knees made movement almost impossible but I found that tiny steps were still possible and teetered triumphantly across the room to
the cheval glass. I truly was an astonishing sight, and I nearly swooned with pleasure at this vision of artificial control and discipline, combined with the feelings that this degree of lacing gave me inside. It seemed as if all my sexuality had been squeezed and compressed into one place - its natural home - and every movement seemed to be intensely exciting.

The picture I saw of myself in the mirror was fantastic, and I could hardly recognise myself. My waist was so tiny it seemed as if would break and expanded upwards into large but exquisitely formed breasts and below into voluptuous hips made even more attractive by the tight jeans covering my bottom, hips and tummy. "How can I sit down?" I asked. "You can't!" said Mummy, "Ever!"

The corset maker had had delivered during my period in the training corset a kind of reclining padded frame. This was now in the corner of the bedroom and she invited to rest against it. Even this was a bit bizarre. They put my high stiletto heels into slots at the bottom of the frame and fastened six broad rubber belts across my helpless body and pulled them tight 'so that I shouldn't fall! Mummy and the corset maker reminded me about my comment a little earlier about being completely corseted. The feelings created by my corseted body being forced against the frame had created new enjoyable sensations. The corset maker produced several other items of apparel. Underwear? I really can't think of the right word! I couldn't even work out what some of them were.

First of all they loosened the rubber straps above my waist and took off my bra. They substituted a very formidable device. I had to extend my arms out in front of me - they were the only limbs I could still move! Mummy pulled on a hard leather sort of tee shirt opened down the back with the ubiquitous lace holes down either side. It covered my shoulders but in front, over my bosom the leather became far more soft and supple, and there were beautifully worked cups for my breasts. Of course the whole thing was rigidly, boned. Mummy threaded the laces through and fastened the whole thing with metal clips to a row of metal rings all round the top of my corset proper. Then they pulled it in, massaging the superfluous flesh into the cups. My bosom was raised and hoisted up and
projected rigidly in front of me. my arms, held in the boned leather sleeves to half way down my upper arms, had their short-lived ability to move abruptly removed. And a kind of metal frame sewed firmly to the garment was the sort of shoulder brace that an orthopaedic surgeon might prescribe for someone who was really deformed. This, the corset maker actually screwed tight. It forced my poor shoulders back so much. The plus point was that it made my breasts even more prominent. They were forced against the supple leather bra and made my whole bosom completely rigid-and very, very elegant.

They had not finished. The frame had secrets, and I realised that with the straps now refastened, my boots now firmly strapped to the bottom and chains attached to metal rings on the shoulders of my leather bra . I was in the relentless grip of a mediaeval rack. The corset maker flipped a switch, and I felt myself being stretched. Most of me was quite unstretchable so the main effort went into my neck. She did it very gradually and carefully, and it only hurt a little. Mummy gave me some glucose solution in a cup with a spout. "You'd better drink now while you have a chance." she said ominously.

Then they fastened on me what I can only call a neck corset which cupped my shoulders below and my chin above - and, of course, laced it tight. The corset maker then released the rack so that the corset kept my neck stretched. " I think we can lengthen her neck quite a bit more in time," said the corset maker, and she stood back and looked at me critically. While I 'rested', they finished off my arms with really tight leather gloves coming well over the leather sleeves at the top to which they were securely fastened.

I really felt that there was nothing more that they could do to me. But then came the coup de grace! Mummy asked me to open my mouth and, as I did so, pushed in a ball of soft rubber. A thick rubber and leather hood was pulled firmly down over my gagged mouth and fastened to the neck corset. I could see myself in a long mirror through eye openings in the mask and I realised that, finally, I was completely corseted. A surge of excitement shot through my helpless body and deep inside me overwhelming waves of pleasure completely overcame me! The corset maker and Mummy smiled at each other in their complicity at my joy and they released the straps and stood me up. Now everything was very, very very tight on me. I couldn't speak because of the gag and the mask, but if I could I would have sung with joy. Oh, yes, it hurt! It hurt like hell - but all the pain was worthwhile when I saw the finished product in the mirror. Each slight movement I made - and I could only make slight movements - brought new sensations and new pleasures. They both thought it would be a good
idea if I rested. I was given medication by injection to inhibit going to the toilet and also to tranquillise me. I think I fell asleep quite quickly.

When I woke up they were both still in the bedroom with me. Mummy had taken the opportunity to change her corset. "Now your figure control gets more and more stringent I have promised to discipline my own figure more and more severely," she explained. I couldn't speak of course, but I remember wondering, helpless as I was, what the future held in store for me. I was soon to find out.

I think I realised that their indulgence of my expressed desire to wear jeans was a kind of jokey complicity . What I had been wearing was merely a subtle refinement of the training corset. Now they swiftly changed the legged corset for the ordinary day corset again. In the process they removed only those extra items that were in the way. So I found myself standing in front of the mirror, still with my neck confined and my shoulders firmly braced, and my poor body (lucky body?) corseted, suspendered, stockinged and booted. The head mask had gone and although I still wore cripplingly tight gloves, I could move my arms a little. The slight freedom I had regained made me feel positively free and easy!

Soon I was wearing a tightly belted dress and with my coat over my shoulders was ready to leave with Mummy. A taxi was called and all the parcels taken to it and we made our leave. I was helped out and into the cab but walking in my constraints became a challenge. Mummy was delighted at my attitude. I couldn't sit properly and Mummy could scarcely bend herself but somehow we got home. I think Mummy was a bit worried about me and she suggested that, perhaps, she should loosen my laces a little. I must have looked at her with horror, because she hastily corrected herself and, taking as deep a breath as she was able to, suggested that she should rather check my laces in case they had loosened a little. That was better, and I managed to take off my dress by myself so that she could do just that. Using an old fashioned button hook she went up and down the lacing, pulling at two points to start with, and then, carefully gathering up the slack without letting any go. "Just about time, they were beginning to feel disagreeably comfortable!" I said, or rather gasped, "You must have taken in at least an inch!"

Mummy struggled on by herself that day - I could do nothing for myself - until the corset maker came round about eight o'clock to attend to my night corset. This was longer and more rigid than my day corset and I realised when she finally tied the laces, it was really quite a bit tighter. I relaxed, exhausted, on the bed.

Now Mummy's earlier comment was true. No way could I suck in my tummy any more! There was simply no room!! 

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