Squeeze me tight…

I adore corsets and corset training. As well established, I am a curvy, squishy girl. With a corset, I squeeze in like a hot damn!

I am naturally hourglass shaped. I have a bottom that is massive… someone once said.. how did a white girl end up with a black girl ass? I don’t know. But it is out there… The junk is in the trunk… don’t be surprised.

I also have a decent sized bust. (I have plans for that later, but we won’t go there in this post!) And they are rather perky. So put me in a corset an it is rather VaVaVoom!

I used to corset train when I was younger and had a partner. At the height of my insanity, I could take 10 inches/25 cm off my waist measurement. People were amazed. Yes, I could breath. A properly made corset isn’t painful. All that rot you read about them is from bra burning boomers who wouldn’t know a real corset if it jumped up and wrung their neck…

I love the feeling of being laced in…

The control it gives another person over my body. The control if gives me over my body. That I can be constrained into an even more perfect shape. The more I train, the more my body changes into that shape all on its own.

Then there are the warm hands of a lover sliding up and down on  that constrained flesh. They go lower, over my free derrière… they can slide higher, to cup my breasts.

I particularly love undercuts corsets, so my breasts can be free… or put into a brassiere which shows them to their utmost. (1950s bullets, anyone?)

When you are so tightly laced, there is a baseline for sensation. Touch takes on a whole new dimension. The restraint is delicious. Everything feels so much more. If I had a partner, I would train again…

It also appeals to my need to be a doll. I already mentioned I wanted to be Daddy’s beautiful doll. Always dressed to please him. Doesn’t he want his little girl to be waspy for him?

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