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To say that Christian was lonely after Sophie’s departure would be an overstatement. He felt alone but he had his work and memories. During the next few weeks, he spent many hours poring over his collection of corsetry, photographs and related objects. On dull winter weekends, he’d get out his collections and spread them around the bed and the dressing table, and read the letters from his former women friends. Of course, there came a time when his yearning for corsetry and tight laced women became so strong that it overwhelmed his rational scientific approach to life and work. In February 1987, Christian decided to re-advertise for a tight lacing companion. He changed the wording of the advertisement although he could not explain to himself why he had done that, since the earlier notice had been so successful.
TINY WAIST AND REAL SHAPE FOR YOU. If you want more shape, call my number. I’ll help you achieve the figure women dream about – and every man. Hourglass waist, curvy hips, firm breasts. All these can be yours without special diets or rigorous exercise. Call today and I’ll accept the full cost of your call and your training. Purely a business relationship with respectable wealthy artist.
Enjoy your body in a new way. Be confident in your work and among friends. Start a modelling or entertainment career with an amazing waist and figure. Curious?
Call Christian on…
The response took him by surprise although he realised, as soon as the calls began to come in, that many women were very overweight and were looking for a miracle. And he knew that miracles either don’t work or else take a long time! Even so, eight calls were from women who had interpreted his message accurately. He arranged to meet each of them and his diary shows how those meetings went.
9th February Sharon, met pub, age 22, Sheffield, hairdresser, 5ft 6in, already tight belt 21 in and girdle, engaged, wedding in July, wants 18 in, not available for continuous lacing, weekends and evenings only. No.
12nd February Pauline, Worcester, met hotel, new qualified solicitor, 25 yr., 5ft 8in, wearing long corset 24 in waist, not good evening, seemed snooty with an “old man.” No.
15th February Joan, 33 yr., Norwich, met in pub, very short about 5ft but tubby, about 36D, 32-in. wore corselette, teacher, wants to be 24 in., not tiny waist person. No.
16th February Carolyn, age 32, restaurant Manchester, professional photographer, 5ft 7in., not corseted yet, waist must be 30-32 in. but supple, bust about 36C hips 38, wore tight belt. Wants to be tiny. Talked about 16 ins. Will lace 24-hours. Recent widow. Yes.
20th February Janine, London, restaurant Victoria Station, 38 yr., ex-model, 5ft 11in, good figure 36B-28-36, wore girdle and long bra, will lace all time, seeks tiny — said 18 or less, showed career pictures incl. underwear. Divorced. Yes.
26th February Nancy, age 40, York station hotel, wears 24″ corset weekends and nights, about 5ft 4in, 34B, shop assistant, asked her what waist she wanted, conversation not easy, nervous and apologised, left after 20 min. No.
1st March Linda, 26 yr. 5ft 5in, Peterborough, pub, tight belt but not corset or girdle, housewife ex-model, talked about husband and child, would not talk about tight lacing, unhappy woman. No.
6th March Joanne, Gloucester restaurant, nursing home manager, age 36, separated, 5ft 2in, waist 26 in girdle, guess 36A, wants 18 ins or less, can lace all day, has two corsets at 21 and 19 ins. but not worn them, sexy woman, invited me to stay night, declined — why? Yes.
Christian spent some days trying to solve a problem: could he take on more than one woman at once for waist training? He had three clear candidates in Carolyn, Janine and Joanne in Manchester, London and Gloucester respectively. He was pleased that they were located in such places that travel would be easy for him and them. He felt physically attracted to Joanne, especially, but all three women were pleasant and alluring in their own ways. The more he thought of Joanne, the more the erotic aspect of his mission stamped itself on his mind. He thought about her whilst at his work, and through the night. In his imagination, she was with him, they were lovers, and she had the tiny waist. He came to the conclusion that she’d be his choice if there were to be only one. He decided to meet her again and called her on 20 March 1987. He realised only as he picked up the telephone that two weeks had gone by since he had met Joanne and even longer since he had any contact with the others.
“It’s Christian, remember?” he started, “I’d like to meet you again and we can talk over your plan for waist training. Is that OK?”
“Umm; well; things have changed since last week,” she spoke in her soft Scottish accent.
“What do you mean?” he asked, “Have your ideas changed?”
“Well,” she started, “An old boyfriend has proposed to me. I don’t know if we will get married poker oyna but I think I should spend a lot of time with him now. We have a few years to make up in our friendship. I’m sorry. I’ll have to cancel my idea to meet you.”
“That’s all right, Joanne, your life is for you to work out. I hope you’ll be happy.”
With that, he was forced back onto his shortened list. The following day he called Janine and was disappointed further. In the weeks, months since they had met, she had obtained a new job in Brussels and was to leave in the following week. Suddenly Christian was facing the prospect of having no waist to train after months of organising his programme.
The only woman left on his list was Carolyn and he had not seen her since mid-February. It seemed to him that he had little prospect of attracting her and yet she was his only opportunity. Within one hour, he called her and left a voicemail. His message was brief and he was not expectant.
“This is Christian. Remember? I’m sorry it’s been so long but I’d very much like to meet you again and discuss our training idea. If you’re still interested, please call me back.”
The same evening, Carolyn phoned back and, to his pleasure and surprise, confirmed to Christian that she was still interested in the plan. In fact, she had been waiting for his call and thought that he had lost interest in her. They planned to meet the next week and did so on 2nd April 1987; a Thursday. It was a very satisfactory meeting for both of them, in an Italian restaurant near Manchester Town Hall.
“How is your figure now?” asked Christian.
“Let me show you,” she said and took off her coat to display a tight broad belt at the waist of her long skirt. “I’ve been working on my waist just in case you came back. This is pulled in to 27 inches which is quite tight for me. What do you think?”
“You look wonderful,” he told her. “I think that you’ve got a very supple waist and you’ll be pleased with your progress, I’m sure. I’ve seen waists such as yours reduced to be very small – tiny if you wish.” He was remembering her use of the word at their first meeting.
“That’s what I want – a tiny waist,” she said, confirming his hope and his memory, “When can we start?”
“If you come to my apartment in the next few days, we can measure you and I’ll get the clothes you need.” And so it was agreed, for a time and date when she would be close by his apartment.
On 10 April 1987, Carolyn drove to Christian’s apartment from her friend’s house a few miles away. He measured her for her first laced corset. She measured on that day 32 inches under the bust which matched her UK bra size of 36C, waist of 31 inches without her tight belt, and hips of 38 inches. She was 5ft 6in tall, a little less than his original guess. He decided that he’d order her first corset at waist 24 inches, which was an inch less than he’d normally have entered on the maker’s form for a first corset. Carolyn obviously had spare flesh and fat on her waist, which could be moulded to a tighter shape with ease. Her first corset was to be an underbust hourglass style with straight front busk and back lacing. Christian ordered it to be made in figured white brocade and six hook-on suspenders. Without telling Carolyn, he ordered a second corset in black satin, with waist only 20 inches. He didn’t know if she would ever wear it, but he wanted to make such a plan for himself and was excited at the prospect. After the measurement, they went for a drink and a little to eat, and Christian stopped the car to post the order on the way.
Their brief meal went well and, towards the end, she smiled and looked into his eyes a lot more than earlier; he noticed. As he said Goodbye to her, she leaned forward and they gave each other a continental kiss on both cheeks. But also she gripped his chest and he placed his hands on her waist and hips — just for a moment. After that, he was excited and partly erect all the way driving to his apartment. Something was happening already, he knew.
The corset arrived in 8 days, on the Saturday, and he called Carolyn.
“Are you free tomorrow?” he asked; hoping she would say Yes and he would have almost no time to wait before getting her into the corset.
“I’m sorry,” she relied, “tomorrow I’m seeing my mum. She’s expecting me and looking forward to it so much. How about next week sometime?”
In the end, they agreed to meet the following Saturday morning, although Christian was disappointed to have to wait so long. In the meantime he would look at the new corset, plan her lacing and imagine the feel of her body in his hands.
The Saturday came and he drove to her apartment this time, at 11 am, as they had agreed. A journey of over 100 miles. After meeting him at her door, she led him in. She was flushed and immediately started to remove her clothes in her second bedroom. She’d set up the room with closed blinds and a camera on its tripod in the corner. And a bottle of white wine in a bowl canlı poker oyna of ice, in the dresser He was excited by her arrangements. Clearly she meant to enjoy and experience as much as possible.
“Shall I show you the corset?” he enquired.
“Later,” was her reply, “please put it on me soon. I want to see how it feels to be shaped.”
In her bra and panties, she stood before him as he wrapped the beautiful corset around her and fastened the busk. It had a 5-inch wide separate under-lace panel at the back and he fed it through the network of laces so that it protected her skin.
“Ooh, it’s heavier than I expected,” she looked at herself in her long mirror. The suspenders hung down, dangling uselessly for now.
“Soon you’ll not feel any weight,” he said; knowing to himself that, before long, she would feel only the grip of the corset, the tightness on her waist and the rigidity over her entire torso.
In his mind’s eye, she was already totally encased, confined and tightened to the minimum of her tolerance. He was aching in his groin to see her laced to that point where her eyes were wide open, her lips were gasping or breath, her hands were holding her waist as if she expected to break in two, and she stood with legs apart because of the pressure between her thighs. But that would all come later.
“I’ll lace you in a little and see how you feel,” said Christian; and did so until the corset just touched her skin all over. It was open at the top and bottom by about 2 inches and at the waist by a full 5 inches. She was silent, watching the process in the mirror.
“Is that OK?” he asked her.
“I can hardly feel anything. Can we make it tighter?”
“Course we can. Tell me when to stop.”
And so he began to lace her into the corset properly. From bottom to waist and from top to waist, taking in the waist a little each time also. He thought to himself, “She’s amazing. She’ll take all this today if I do things right. She’ll let me crush her waist, I’m sure”
“Wait now,” Carolyn spoke, holding her flattened abdomen with both palms; so he stopped the reduction. But he made a little extra tension on the waist with the two loops as he tied them off. She gasped as he did so, knowing what he’d done. She placed her hands on her waist and felt at the hardness of the corset, the bones and the tension in the fabric over her his.
“Ooh!” the little exclamation was forced from her as he tied off the laces.
“Shall we measure you now, to see how you’re doing?” he asked with a hope.
“Mmm. Yes. The tape’s over there, near the wine,” she told him.
In front of the mirror he measure her waist and it was 27 inches.
“But that’s the same as I can get with the belt. This corset isn’t doing anything for me,” she sounded most disappointed.
“It’s not fastened properly yet. Shall I tighten it some more?”
“Yes,” she was firm and decisive in her voice, “and don’t stop until you think it’s very tight. Will you do that? Don’t listen to me.”
He thought to himself again, “This is my kind of corset-woman. She’s put me in charge already.” And he re-commenced the lacing. At the same time, he took off his shirt, and his trousers and his socks. He was behind her as she watched in the mirror, and he could feel his erection rising with each passing moment; with each millimetre of reduction that he coaxed out of her waist.
Every few minutes he massaged her waist and her hips, partly to settle the new corset on her figure, but also to test the firmness for his pleasure. After 20 minutes, he stopped the lacing and the massage, and tied off the laces. She had been silent throughout the time. He looked over her shoulder, into the mirror, to see her face. The signs of real tightlacing were beginning to appear in her expression. The wide open eyes, the parted lips, the flaring nostrils as she made the effort to breathe.
“We’ll leave it there for a time,” said Christian, “then the corset can warm up to your body heat. That’s important so the fabric can relax and move a little to your shape. We’ll tighten you a little more in a while. Would you like a drink?”
She nodded but didn’t speak so he moved over to the wine and poured two half-glasses. He was aware of his erection and wondered it she had seen it as well. As he turned to carry the drinks over, he caught her glance and saw that she was looking at his groin and his growing excitement. She looked up, into his face and said, “Thank you” as he passed her the glass. She sat, somewhat unsteadily, on a stool in front of the dressing table.
Silently, they drank their wine as she touched her body through the corset. Especially, she ran her left hand over her waist and hip; pressing into the narrower shape and feeling the swelling curves down to her thigh. Then she changed hands and felt the same on the right side. She smiled at him and he knew that she was just the right kind of woman for these pleasures. He went to her and stood behind her, internet casino with his hands on her shoulders; then he moved his hands down her arms and finally to touch her breasts in her bra, as they swelled over the top of the corset. She said nothing and did not try to stop him. He held her breasts with his arms over her shoulders and squeezed very gently and only slightly. She smiled and he could sense that smile, although he could not see her face.
After a few moments, he moved round to her side and took her hand to raise her to her feet again. She stood again in front of the long mirror, knowing that he was going to lace her much harder and that she was under his control. But instead of moving round the back of her body, he took a pair of stockings from his pile of clothes and knelt in front of her. Quickly he put the stockings on her legs and attached them to the six suspenders at the bottom edge of the corset.
Standing, he moved his hands again over her figure to feel the smoothness and the strain in the fabric; and the temperature of her body as it transferred to the corset. The corset was feeling warm now. He moved his hands over her breasts again and then down her abdomen to feel the busk and the stiff flatness of her figure under its control. He let one hand move further to the bottom edge and then curled his fingers over the skin of her pubis, as it protruded slightly from the pressure of the corset. Slowly he let his middle finger press further into the crack of her lips as he smiled softly into her eyes. Through the thin smooth fabric of her panties, he felt her clitoris. She was warm — and wet. She smiled back at him.
Moving round her back again, he undid the knot in the laces and repeated the earlier procedure. Bottom to waist; top to waist. He made the adjustments gradually at just a few millimetres each time, pressing and massaging her figure after each reduction. After twenty minutes, the top and bottom edges were almost closed. He glanced and saw there were gaps of about half and inch. The waist was still open by about 1½ inches. Carolyn was panting a little but her eyes were bright, he noticed. While 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 where he had been a few minutes ago. She was pleased at the sensation of her own responsive clitoris, and at her moistness.
He spoke, “Almost closed. Now I’m going to close you down. Ready?”
She nodded and said just, “Mmm.” She knew that he would do so anyway; that was her instruction to him. Too late now to say No.
Christian crossed over the laces and positioned himself to exert heavier leverage on the back gap. It was about 1½ inches, making an oval opening. He looked carefully at the lacing protector and adjusted it a little at top and bottom. The laces had been sliding over it very smoothly and there was no sign of puckering in Carolyn’s skin; but he knew that under the panel her flesh was being compressed and bunched around her waist especially. He took one of the crossed-over laces in each hand and flexed his shoulders. With a steady, strong pull he urged the laces out of the eyelets and the edges of the corset moved towards closure. He concentrated on his efforts to make sure that the corset closed smoothly without pinching Carolyn’s skin. The shiny lacing panel was doing its job perfectly. He was oblivious to Carolyn’s face and the movements of her hands. She was holding her lower ribs and her waist as the compression increase. Her mouth and her eyes were now wide open, but Christian saw none of this as he intensified his effort to close the corset.
For maybe 15 minutes the final lacing continued until Christian saw the edges of the corset come together, all the way down the back. She was the perfect hourglass and rigid inside the corset. He tied off the laces and put his hands on her waist, to find hers already there. She moved hers out of the way and dropped them to her thighs, only to brush against his raging erection. She let her hand rest for a second against his stiffness — just for a second — but he noticed it.
“It’s very tight,” she gasped, “I can’t take this for long. I’ll need to take it of soon. Please.”
“Soon,” he replied, “but let me feel you. You look wonderful.”
He moved his hands all over her body and then discovered he had missed before. Under the thin panties, he felt something hard at her anus. He pressed on it slightly and realised she had a butt plug inside her. She squirmed a little with that pressure.
“I didn’t know about this,” he said, pressing on it again gently.
“I was worried we might push something dirty out of me. I read it in a book. Hope you don’t mind,” she whispered.
“It’s no problem but it’s not necessary either, I don’t think. You’re amazing,” was his response.
To his amazement, she turned and looked him full in the face, their eyes meeting.
“You want me, don’t you?”
“More than anything in the world,” he replied, “I can be very careful and will give you pleasures also, you know.”
“How can we do it?” she asked.
“Come over to the dresser,” and he led her to a position facing the wall, with her hands on the surface.
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