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Now it was the early hours of Saturday morning. He'd had her blindfolded for six hours while he gradually laced her into the corset. At the start, she'd been excited at the feel of the white satin covering; smoothing her hands against her changing figure. After each reduction, she'd asked for a rest. And he'd agreed, so they lay down and he played on her some more with his hands and mouth. At one stage, after some minutes for her to recover her quietness, he reached out for a favourite vibrator and they'd played some more. He was keeping her body for his pleasure later. She orgasmed easily, this beautiful shapely woman, and she'd clung to him each time, in her pleasure. Together, they'd gone to the bathroom from time to time so that she could relieve her bladder and he helped by cleaning her from the tub of gentle wipes he kept there.
The latest lacing had been done with her lying on her stomach and relaxed, but with her arms still crossed over her breasts. Now her waist was 20 inches: almost half her hip measurement and 10 inches smaller than it had been when she arrived the previous evening. There was only a short waist acing still to be completed.
He turned her over onto her back, untied her arms, and helped her to stand in front of the mirror. Her eyes were wide open, and her mouth.
"What have you done to me?" she said, looking in the long mirror, "my God, what's happened to me?"
"Oooh nnnooo," she was beginning to scream now as she placed her hands on her waist, "it'll kill me. Something must burst in me."
Until that moment, she'd been relaxed and quiet in her corset, but the visual image of her own figure in the mirror had provoked a panic. For the first time, she thought she should be gasping for breath; struggling to move; fighting against the constraints of the bones and the lacings. She ran her hands over her figure, into the waist, over her hips, round and over her contained buttocks, up and round her ribs. As he knew, the corset was not tight at the bottom edge, nor at the top. She slid a finger under the bottom edge to realise that it was simply touching her skin. And she tucked her thumbs in the top edge and discovered the same there. But her waist was tight. Really tight. Tighter than she'd realised before this view in the mirror.
After her little outburst subsided, he held her and felt at her figure for himself. From behind, looking into the mirror and into her eyes, he ran his hands over the flat rigid front of the corset; feeling the tautness of the busk fastening over her muscles and containing her ribs. Then he moved his hands to left and right to feel the curve over her hips, which now felt like little shelves.
He traced the bones in the corset from top edge, over their laced-in tightness and down to the bottom edge. He imagined he could feel her hip bones, the fabric of the corset stretched tightly over the curve of her iliac crest; the broad sweep of bone. But what were her bones and what was the rigid taut corset was impossible to distinguish. Even so, it felt good to him.
He held her waist, pressing his fingers and thumbs together as if to encircle her. Almost but not quite, and she was almost rigid in her waist. She felt like warm wood; carved into the shape of the most erotic feminine waist. There was no movement in her waist at all; no "give" as he pressed; no flexibility as she swayed a little under his grasp and his groping.
Then he allowed his hands to roam over her lower abdomen and down to her pubic area, to discover a little bulge below the corset. Her intestines and skin-fat had been gradually rearranged during the slow corseting, and now was located in a beautiful little mound above her pubis. He anticipated how that would feel when he next lay down with her; on her; inside her. But he could wait a little longer.
He led her back to the bed and helped her to lie down. A woman in a tight-laced corset hasn't the flexibility to lie down buy herself. He knew that and let her down gently onto her pillow, lying on her back. She was panting a little by now and holding her waist; remembering the image of her own figure in the mirror.
Lying next to her, he coiled his arm over her and held her waist with one hand. Moving that hand up and down, he moved to place his face near hers and kissed her gently on her cheek, in her hair and then on her chest above her breasts. And then full kisses and sucking on her nipples, such as she'd appreciated earlier in the evening. But now she was concentrating on her breathing and the memory from the mirror. Orgasm was not high in her list of priorities but she knew that he would take her soon. She opened her legs as far as the corset would allow, with the outer edges digging into her thighs just a little.
And so he lifted himself onto her corseted and contained body, and entered her for his pleasure. With his hands either side of her waist, flat on the bed, he pumped his penis into her slowly at first; and then with greater urgency.
At this point, he surprised and shocked her by leaning flat on her body and holding her waist in his two hands as he continued his shagging. His full weight lay on her and she expected to feel crushed; but the corset seemed to support him through its tightness and the rigidity of her body. She wrapped her hands round his shoulders and his neck as he lay on her full-length. She knew that he was holding her waist but had no awareness of it. The hardness and tightness of her waist had lost all her skin sensation.
For the first time, she understood how tight corseting can be restrictive and immobilising but also comfortable if done properly. The corset seemed to contain its own anaesthetic through its tightness and the perfect pressure on her skin. She pondered all this as she lay there under his movements, knowing that soon he would flood her with his sex juices. But then he surprised her again.
He let go of her waist and raised himself off her. Quickly, he turned her over and pushed his erection into her vagina from behind. He pressed on the flange of the butt-plug, of course, and she could feel both intrusions now in a way she didn't before. He kneeled over her and held her waist as he moved back and forth. His erection was very hard even though he was not super-endowed with penis. She could feel the rigidity of his movement as he pounded into her lips, against the walls of her slippery vagina and rubbing against the butt-plug in two ways. First by movement of the flange, and secondly by proximity through her membranes inside her body. Her own excitement was rising and she could tell that his certainly was.
At this stage, he startled her again; he took hold of the knot in the corset-laces and untied it. She knew what he was going to do and felt another panic rising in her; and he did exactly as she expected. He leaned against the laces, crossing them over again to provide the leverage. Until the corset was closed. Her waist was now only 18 inches but she didn't know that; only that she was being compressed into the most erotic feminine figure that she could imagine for herself. He tied off the knot and she lay under him immovable, and resisting the sense of panic in her numbed waist.
And so, holding her tiny waist from behind, he completed his shagging on her and spewed his sperms and other juices deep inside her. At the last moment, as his erection and his testicles were pulsing, he buried himself deep inside the corseted vagina. Thus he finished his conquest of her body and her corseted figure; and she relaxed with pleasure and release in the knowledge of what had happened to her.
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Later, he released her from the corset. She was relieved but also sad and disappointed. She'd become accustomed to the pressure and the knowledge of her superb shape. As they stood to release the corset, she held his hands away for a few seconds; to take a final long look at her 36C-18-38 figure. She wondered if she would ever again see herself with such an outline; such a silhouette. She hoped so and determined to keep close to this man if he agreed, and to experience this again. Next time, she resolved to take more pleasure now that she knew how it felt and how she looked.
Uncorseted, and with his arms around her, she slept until late in the morning.