"The MODERN Way to Corsetting"

THE 'MODERN' WAY TO CORSETING

Author Unknown -- Untitled (title applied by LISA)


First let me say that I am what some have said, a very attractive 50 year-old women with a still-youthful figure, which I attribute to many years of enforced corseting by my strict mother.  I was one of three girls who were all corseted starting when we reached our 12th birthdays.  I was the youngest, so when it was time for me to start my corset training, experienced children's corsetières were becoming a thing of the past. This was in the late ‘50’s.  My mother, however, was a longtime customer of a reputable corsetière in the Philadelphia area who had a small but dedicated clientele of mothers who insisted on their daughters, some at a fairly early age, being tightly laced into quite formidable stays.  So on the day after my 12th birthday, I was taken down to this corsetière, who had already been advised by my mother that corsets for me were about to be the norm.  As I was fairly tomboyish I didn't relish the idea of being put into a corset, especially after seeing the discomfort and restrictions it placed upon each of my older sisters.  My typical daily activities were playing around with the other neighborhood children, mostly boys, and I easily kept up with them running, jumping, climbing trees, etc.  Now all of that was about to abruptly change!
 
Upon arriving at the corset shop, the lady proprietor took me into a back room, where I had to remove all of my clothes, after which she began to measure practically every inch of my young figure from mid-thighs to my underarms.  I was quite embarrassed, but she was very thoughtful, and told me there was nothing to worry about, as she did this almost every day with girls my age.  When she was finished with the measurements, she left the room and I could hear her talking with my mother in the front of the shop, but I couldn't make out specifically what they were saying.

A few minutes later she re-entered the fitting room with a large box, along with my mother.  The corsetière explained to both of us that I should start wearing this foundation garment, which was contained in the box she had brought in.  It was described as a girl's all-in-one intimate foundation trainer, and I was to be in it all the time for a period of 4-6 months prior to wearing a very tightly laced training corset.  I found out 'all the time' meant around the clock, as I had to sleep in it as well!  It had a panty-girdle bottom, which extended from mid-thigh to high above my waist, where it continued into a built-in bra top.  Although the entire garment made from a firm heavy-weight elastic material, which in itself would have provided all the "support" I needed at the time, it was nevertheless boned around the waist area and had a moderately stiff front busk which extended from just below the bra cups to well below my waist and continued down to immediately above my most intimate area. 

The busk also widened and curved inward against my lower stomach once past my waistline.  The garment had a lacing placket in the back much like an ordinary corset, which was designed when tightened to reduce my waist by 3 inches.  Padded posture straps were also part of this affair and crossed over each shoulder and under my arms to be fastened in the back to matching buckles.  Once I realized what I was to be put into, I started to cry and strongly protested.  My mother was quite embarrassed, and told the corsetière that I would be severely dealt with once we got home.  Mother then asked the corset lady to explain all of the details concerning how the garment was to be initially fitted and adjusted, as my outburst was going to prevent it from being properly fitted while we were in the shop.  They discussed these details in another room while I was left pondering what "severely dealt with once we got home" meant.  I knew in the back of my mind it probably meant a spanking!
 
A little while later, mother returned to the fitting room carrying a small box.  I was instructed to get dressed immediately while the corsetière repackaged the all-in-one and handed it to my mother, after which we left the corset shop to go straight home.  Once in the car I was sternly lectured how girls my age didn't act that way in front of others, and that I was going to be severely punished for my outburst and refusal to cooperate.  Further, my days as a ruffian tomboy were over and that I was going to start acting like a proper young lady at all times.  School had just finished for the year a few days earlier and something told me this was going to be the worst summer I ever experienced. 

Reaching home, my mother immediately sent me upstairs and told to undress again, and that she would be up shortly to deal with me.  I knew what that meant!  In our house, all of us girls were spanked bare-bottom style for serious offenses, and I was about to get one!  Sure enough, about 10 minutes later my mother came into my room carrying the two boxes from the corset shop, plus the dreaded spanking paddle.  I was then taken across her knees while she sat on the bed and soundly spanked me for a full 5 minutes during which I was getting another lecture on being a well-behaved young lady.  Sobbing and with my panties at my knees, I was told to stand in the corner for 30 minutes, where I slowly regained my composure. 

Exactly a half hour later, my mother reappeared and asked if I had learned my lesson, and could we now continue with my fitting.  I reluctantly agreed, not wanting any more of that paddle.  She then hugged me and gave me a kiss on the head and said I was going to be a good girl from now on.
 
The small box contained a pair of rubber panties with clips on the inside at the waist band for a sanitary napkin (this was long before the advent of modern pads with self-adhesive strips and plastic liners).  Since I was still several weeks away from my first period, my mother explained how I should be prepared for the event, particularly after being corseted.  I was shown how to attach the napkin to the clips inside the panties and pull the rubber garment up as far as I could.  Another new experience!  The pad pressed tightly between my legs owing to the overall compression of the panties, and I started to notice the familiar rubber smell so often experienced when around my two older sisters (they were required to be in rubber panties and a pad at all times too). 

Now I started to understand what they had told me in the past about how hot these rubber panties were, especially in warm weather!  They didn't dare remove them for comfort on hot days when not actually menstruating, as if they did and mother found out, they were given a severe spanking and couldn't sit down comfortably for several days afterwards.  Our mother was quite strict when it came to matters of dress and personal hygiene, and now I too was on my way to learning what this meant.  My recently-spanked bottom was still smarting and now starting to heavily perspire under these tight rubber sanitary briefs!
 
Next came the all-in-one "corset."  First I had to put on a pair of flesh-colored nylon tights.  It was explained that a girl wasn't properly dressed unless she was wearing hosiery.  Before, all I wore were socks.  Despite seeing my sisters wearing traditional stockings all the time, it never occurred to me that it would be something that I'd ever wear or even want to.  The tights felt good on my bare legs at first, but soon I could tell they were going to be warm and somewhat uncomfortable in the upcoming days of summer weather.  My mother then opened the large box and produced the now-familiar all-in-one.  I started to protest again, but thought better of it as I didn't want another paddling.  Besides I now realized how important this "young lady" transformation was to my mother. 

The laces in the back were fully loosened to allow the sides to open up as much as possible.  As there was no other way to get into the garment, I had to step into it putting each of my now tights-encased legs into the leg openings of the corset's attached long-leg panty girdle.  It was then pulled up completely, tightly fitting around my upper thighs and pelvic area.  My smarting bottom was now firmly compressed and supported, giving my rear a shapely well-rounded feminine appearance.  The bulge outline of my pad under the rubber panties could still be seen in spite of the girdle's heavy-weight material and I was very embarrassed by this. 

The bra top was adjusted so my still-budding breasts fitted into the bra cups properly with no visible cleavage allowed.  Then the slack in the back laces was taken up and the tightening began.  At first it wasn't too uncomfortable.  However, after the first inch, I noticed it became a little more difficult to breathe, and my waist started to feel exceptionally tight.  I told my mother that it was tight enough, but she replied that for this garment to have the full desired effect on my figure, the tightening would have to continue until the lacing placket in the back was fully closed.  I was distressed at hearing this, but had already learned that it was pointless to argue.  When the final inch was attained, the front busk pressed in tightly, especially below my waist over my stomach and even further down.  At that point I noticed a distinctive somewhat tingling sensation between my legs.  At that point my mother tied the laces off in a small knot.  Next each posture strap was brought around over each shoulder, under my arms and buckled in the back.  My shoulders were firmly pulled back, causing my small breasts to jut forward in what I thought was a very unappealing way. 

We were near the dressing mirror in my room during all of this, and then my mother had me stand directly in front of it so I could get a full view of myself.  What sight!  There I was now with what seemed grown-up breasts, a very noticeably smaller waist now reduced by 3 inches, and a well rounded seat thrusting slightly outwards.  The tingling sensation became more intense (and actually somewhat pleasurable) and I mentioned it to my mother.  As I looked at her face in the mirror, she displayed a small smile and responded that it was what all girls experience when they wear a corset for the first time, and would become more pronounced from time to time, especially after I was put into my first real tight-laced corset. 

That was to be several months away, and now I was trying to adjust to the most physical restriction I had ever had.  It wasn't going to be easy.  I was forced to take only shallow deliberate breaths, as the posture straps prevented me from raising my shoulders as much as I would have liked to get a full breath.  Recalling my sisters' complaints about having to wear their tightly-laced corsets all the time, I now realized just what they went through.  Even though we were close siblings, my older sisters didn't always share the discomforts and reasons for punishments they underwent when they broke any of mom's dress rules, but this subject was one I had overheard more than once.
 
(A diabolical little feature of this all-in-one "corset" was the fact that once I was laced into it, it was impossible for me to use the bathroom without assistance.  Just requiring help was only part of the predicament.  It also required removal of all of my outer clothing (belt, skirt, blouse, etc.) in order to gain access to my "corset" fastenings, including the shoulder straps and back laces.  I later learned that this was part of my training, and being virtually unable to use the toilet whenever I felt the need, it would make it easier for me to go long periods without relieving myself, especially when clean or convenient facilities were unavailable. In later years, this became a real advantage when I traveled on long flights with my husband, wearing a tightly-laced corset, and the only toilet being available was in the cramped space of an airline lavatory). 

Fortunately, wearing the sanitary pad and rubber panties at all times meant I had "insurance" against any wetting accidents.   My mother, however, warned me that, until I gained complete self-control of my need to urinate and defecate, she would inspect my pad at random times to see if I was using my pad as a convenient "toilet."  In fact she would inspect my pad every day for the first few months after school started again, to see if I was developing the habit of using my pad rather than waiting until the allotted "bathroom time." 

After a couple of times, when I drank too many soft drinks at school and "had to go," walking around the rest of the day and sitting on a hard desk seat while wearing a soaked napkin was no fun.  There was also the embarrassment of potential leakage which would have been impossible for me to explain!  That experience, plus a few bare-bottom spankings before bedtime as a result of lacking self-control in a few certain instances that my mother expected, gradually accustomed me to this extremely personal, and at times very uncomfortable, restraint. 

Within a year though I was generally at ease with this requirement, and would use the bathroom immediately upon rising in the morning to both urinate and defecate.  I would only urinate again when I was ready for bed that night unless mother had "inspected" me when I returned home from school.  This generally meant I didn't use the toilet for an average of 12 to 15 hours each day.  In addition, shortly after being put into my first corset, I started menstruating.  As I used fairly thick napkins, menstruating without a pad change was mildly uncomfortable during my periods but perfectly manageable.  Using tampons of any type was out of the question, since I had learned about Toxic Shock Syndrome and didn't want to take any chances.  Besides, my mother had already insisted that I wear a sanitary napkin everyday regardless of my preference.  I never did defecate in my napkin, although came close to it a few times.  I suspect that, due to the tightness of my pad and rubber panties, that would have been very difficult, if not impossible, anyway.
 
After a couple of hours of getting used to this totally unorthodox garment, it was time for my outer clothing.  I was then dressed in a short comfortable skirt, belt, blouse, and something I was totally unprepared for: High Heels!  Although my sisters and mother wore them regularly, I had never thought about having to wear them.  That changed.  From now on my mother informed me that whenever I was out of my room for any reason, even if to go downstairs briefly to get something, I was to be fully dressed complete with my high heels.  She emphasized the shoes and said if I was ever caught out of my room without having them on, I could expect a severe bare-bottom spanking before bedtime that same evening.  Now I understood why both of my sisters would always wear their high heels no matter what they did.  Actually my shoes' heels at first weren't that high, only 2-inches, but still high enough for me to spend several days getting used to them.  But not nearly as high as the heels my sisters wore.   Most of the time I could hear them loudly sigh as they removed their shoes in their rooms after a long day's wearing.  All of their daily-wear shoes, including my mother's, had 5-inch heels, with their weekend dress shoes having heels over 5-inches high!  Later I graduated to 3-inch heels on my 13th birthday, with my heel heights increasing by 1 inch each year until I was 16 years old. 

For the entire summer after my 16th birthday, I had to wear shoes with 6-inch heels in order to become accustomed to their height for very special occasions (graduation prom, weddings, dating, etc.).  These were shoes with narrow tapered heels, a thin flat sole (no platform to make the actual arch less severe), and were pure torture to wear for the first several weeks.  Still, at 16, having to potentially endure a very painful bare-bottom spanking if I didn't wear them as required, I complied.  Although I complained bitterly to my mother, she refused to relent, and said that if I didn't follow through with this training, I would not only be given a severe spanking everyday, but be put into "special" training shoes as well.  I remembered my next older sister Sue had to wear these training pumps when she refused to begin the process of wearing her 6-inch high-heel shoes when she turned 16.  These shoes could be better characterized as "punishment shoes" as they had a heel height of almost 7-inches, flat soles, and locking in-step straps which could not be unbuckled without a special key.  Once in these, she could not remove them and had to endure the discomfort for the required wearing period, a minimum of 12-15 hours every day for a full week!  Since a severe bare-bottom paddling was administered by my mother each morning during this shoe punishment, Sue tried to stand rather than sit, but with the tight, ultra-high-heeled shoes she was forced to wear, she could do neither comfortably and finally relented to the "comfortable" height of the 6-inch heel pumps.  All of this of course while being very tightly laced down to only 17 inches! 

Vividly remembering this ordeal, I wanted no part of it and reluctantly complied with my mother's wishes to wear my 6-inch pumps.  I too gradually became tolerant of this almost-impossible heel height, and after the first couple of months, wore these shoes all day, but not without extreme relief once I was allowed to remove them upon returning to my bedroom for the evening!  After a 3-month training period I was allowed back into my regular 5 inch high heels for normal wear.  My sisters and I each had only one pair of 6-inch high heel shoes, which we were expected to wear whenever we dressed up for a really special occasion.  This was when we had to look our stylish best.  We often wore them to church on Sundays, much to our displeasure, as that meant we had to stay in them all day on Sunday!  Needless to say we retired to our rooms fairly early on those days, usually under the pretext of lengthy homework assignments for school due the following Monday!
 
Over time I became accustomed to the tight corset, maneuvering in the high heels, and the distasteful bathroom restrictions.  After a 6-month training period in my first all-in-one corset, I successively progressed to much more sophisticated and restrictive models approximately every 6 months.  My second corset was a "real" corset and the most difficult for me to become adjusted to.  It employed the same heavy-weight panty-girdle style bottom, with legs again extending to mid-thigh.  This time, however, the busk was much more rigid and extended below my waist even further and widened, to what I later learned was a "spoon busk" style, measuring just over 3-inches in width at its widest point and thoroughly covering my lower stomach area.  It also gradually tapered in width as it curved even further downward and inward, and pressed tightly against my sanitary-napkined pubic area.  I later learned from my sisters as I got older that this was no accident, but a deliberate attempt by my mother and corsetière to keep me in a sexually aroused state to help balance the discomfort of the ensuing waist reductions of 5 inches and more! 

This corset was more heavily boned than the previous version I had worn, and in addition to a remarkably smaller waist (now reduced by 5 inches), was very tightly laced down the back after a stud-and-hook placket, which carried the lacing and eyelets arrangement, was fastened to one side of a rigid steel bone running along the back of the entire corset's length.  This fastening method helped ensure that tampering (loosening) of the laces by me would be prevented.  Since there was no front opening on this corset (or any of the versions I had to wear), the only way in (or out) was through the opening in the back when the laces were fully loosened, and stepping into the panty-girdle (again wearing tights) and pulling the entire affair over my hips and up over my torso.

The first time I was fitted into this formidable garment, it became apparent that any thoughts I had about eventually going back to my old ways of dressing were pointless.  This version also had the same style and layout of padded shoulder straps, which pulled my shoulders back, causing my breasts, which were now much fuller and more pronounced, to assume a much more distinctive profile.  I was slowly becoming a woman, at least in appearance!  It was like a suit of armor, and with the rigid front busk I could only sit very straight and erect.  Slouching was impossible, as the lower spoon busk with its inward curve thoroughly prevented that kind of posture by pressing very tightly into my lower stomach whenever I had a tendency to slouch in a chair.
 
Again, as in my previous "starter" corset, my vulva region was being highly stimulated and I was now becoming fully aware of the sexual aspects of these garments.  Coupled with the warmth and tightness of the rubber sanitary briefs I was required to wear, placement of the pad firmly against my genital area, and with the varying movements of the extended spoon busk whenever I walked, it's no wonder that I experienced my first sexual orgasm shortly after being laced into this new training corset!  I was to wear it for about 6 months along with a much dressier and stylish wardrobe.  During this time I graduated to 2-1/2-inch high heeled shoes and was now beginning to enjoy being a young woman.  Despite the tightly-laced corset with its small waist, I began to see myself in a whole new light and was starting to enjoy the feeling of tight compression around my waist.  Being sexually stimulated as I was, I was almost in a continual state of excitement for many weeks.  People noticed how stylish I looked and complimented me frequently on how I had changed. 

Gradually I became less stimulated by the busk and pad pressure, as it was almost constant, and I was getting used to the whole corseting regimen.  Each new corset was essentially the same as the previous except my final version, which I was put into when I was 14 years old, reduced my waist by a full 7 inches.  It was different in that along with the smaller waist, the panty-girdle portion was still retained, but now it had only very short extended legs.  It was almost a brief-style heavy-weight panty and had eight garter clips around each leg opening.  Now instead of tights, I was going to be wearing sheer nylon stockings every day, kept tightly gartered!
 
As my corsets progressively changed and my waist measurement was slowly reduced, heel heights also steadily increased and peaked out at 5-inches, the minimum my mother insisted on for everyday wear, as I've previously mentioned.  I was now very tightly laced, having a 17-inch waist, and regularly wore 5-inch high-heel shoes!  At this point my mother had given me the choice of taking off the corset at night once I had worn it for a full year.  However at 15 I elected to remain in the garment night and day, complete with gartered nylons, having it off for only short periods of time. 

Actually reattaching all of the fastenings including the gartered stockings and lacing down again to the required 17 inches was more of a bother than wearing the corset all day fully tightened.  My toilet visit times were rearranged so that I could urinate immediately after coming home from school (much to my delight), showering, putting on a fresh pad and rubber panty, re-corseting, and slipping into casual attire, which usually consisted of a turtle neck sweater, miniskirt (just long enough to cover my stocking tops) and a wide leather belt (to show off my tiny waist), along with the mandatory 5-inch high-heel pumps.  When it was time for bed, I just undressed down to my corset and nylons and went straight to bed.  Although at bedtime (usually about 10:00) I would have liked to use the toilet one more time, that now that was out of the question since I had been allowed a bathroom visit right after school when I got home. My mother was still enforcing the bathroom restraint training and that would continue all the way through college and even a couple of years after that.

After getting married, I still continued with my tight corseting, high heels, and minimal toilet usage.  Actually my husband was quite taken with the fact that I could manage to go for such long periods without having to relieve myself. He was absolutely captivated by my small waist and insisted I be kept tightly laced night and day for many years.

I continued with this same basic wardrobe program for many years as did my sisters, since we were all "addicted" to the pleasures of a tiny waist, high heels, dressy clothes, and the attention we got from the men!  We look back now and concur that while we didn't necessarily agree with our mom's methods and objectives at the time, we wouldn't have otherwise attained the "cut above" appearance and demeanor which allowed us to successfully marry into a reasonably comfortable lifestyle.  In fact my tiny waist and high heels are what initially attracted my husband.  We had marvelous times together until he passed away several years ago in an automobile accident.  I was heart-broken, but he left me with a wonderful daughter whom I raised basically the same as I had been—with a strict program of dress deportment. She too now enjoys a spectacular figure and is just entering college. 



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