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Girdle Problem

Category: Fetish
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He awoke knowing that he could go to college late that day. Nothing before 1.00 pm, so he could luxuriate and linger in his room. As a second year student, he had greater control over his timetable and today he had to present a paper to his tutor in a one-to-one after lunch. The paper was all but finished so he had no worries about that, and he began to plan his easy morning.

His room was no palace; just one room in the back of a building that became a holiday guest house during the summer season at the little seaside town where he stayed, about 10 miles from his college. He put on the kettle and began to make a drink of coffee and to get some cereal into a bowl. He realised suddenly that he had no milk in his little fridge, and contemplating dashing round the corner of the street to a little shop that seemed to be open all hours. But no; he could walk along the ground floor corridor and ask his landlady for some milk to borrow.

She’d done the same for him before and seemed to take no offence. He decided that’s what he’d do when he’d dressed a little and had a wash. He switched off the kettle. After all, it used electricity through his meter and he had no use for hot water right now. He went across to his wash-stand and let his jogging bottoms flop to his ankles as he started to wash and shave.

The water was quite noisy coming through the ancient plumbing and foaming into the basin, and he thought he heard an unusual sound as he turned it off. He cocked his head a little to one side, to hear it again if it repeated. He heard nothing, so moved on with his washing. After his face was clean, he squeezed some shaving gel into his fingers and began to work it into the stubbly skin.

At this point, there was no sound apart from the slight rasping of his fingers over the bristles and so he heard the sound more clearly this time.

“Hello, Stephen,” it was a tiny little voice, as if from a hundred yards away, but with a tone of urgency, “I need your help Stephen, if you’re there.”

It was Mrs Godwinson’s voice, the landlady, a woman reputedly widowed early in life, whom he’d hardly noticed except that she took his rent weekly and charged him for use of electricity. She was obviously shouting in a whisper if such a thing made sense. He wiped the gel off his face and walked to his door, grabbing and dabbing the towel over his neck and cheeks. As he left his room, he wrapped the towel around his waist and made it tight with a short tuck in. It was, after all, only a hand towel.

He thought to himself, “She must have a problem; wonder what it is to be so urgent?”

He walked towards her rooms at the front of the house, where he knew she had a sitting room as well as her own bedroom and separate kitchen. All was quiet again until he reached the end of the landing, near her rooms. Then he saw that one of her doors was slightly ajar and a face was peering round the edge of it.

“Mrs Godwinson?” he enquired as he got closer.

“Stephen, I’ve got a little problem and need your help,” she said, “the problem is I’m not fully dressed and I’d like you to help me with your eyes closed, please. Will you do that for me?”

What could he say? Hardly, “No thanks Mrs Godwinson, I can’t do that,” and then walk away.

“Of course, Mrs Godwinson, what do you need me to do?”

“Close your eyes and come in here, please.” He felt her hand on his arm as his vision blanked out.

“Can you feel this zipper, Stephen? Well, it’s got some of my skin trapped in it and now I can’t move it either way. It’s beginning to bleed as well. Let me show you. Please keep your eyes closed.”

Her hand led his to a zip puller, and he could feel resistance to its movement and imagined he could feel the blood on her skin. Well, he could feel her skin, anyway, immediately under the zipper.

“You’ll have to use both hands, I think, Stephen,” she said and there was a pained panic in her voice by that time.

He put both hands on her and felt the zipper in one of them, and got hold of some fabric in the other. The zipper didn’t want to move and he was unsure what to do.

“Shall I move it up or down, Mrs Godwinson?” he asked

“I think it’ll move upwards most easily,” she replied, “but it doesn’t matter, really, either way will do. I’ve been stuck here for nearly an hour trying for myself.”

He took a firmer hold of the zipper in his right hand and fabric in his left. He became aware of something unusual about the fabric: it was stretchy and felt to be quite firm in its weave. It was unlike any fabric he’d handled before, but he simply put that information in the back of his mind until this problem would be solved.

Mrs Godwinson was tense and she sobbed once as he took a stance to exert greater force.

After a few strenuous tugs and some continuous pressure on the zip puller, it moved one zipper-tooth, and he knew he was on the way to a solution. He pressed upwards again and more teeth were covered. With a sudden yield, the zipper ran all the way up to the top of its run and stopped against a metal end. His hand slipped off the end of the zipper and scratched against her skin higher on her body.

Without realising what he was doing, he opened his eyes and looked straight into hers, as if she’d been watching for him to break his promise.

“Stephen!” she squealed, but then she chuckled, and looked straight into his face again. Her eyes twinkled a little and she laughed out loud.

“You naughty boy,” she grinned at him and he backed away. Then a number of things happened together.

First, he saw that she was dressed in a white high waist panelled girdle with suspenders and already had stockings attached, but she was wearing no panties or knickers. Her bra reached down over the top of the high waist and made one continuous line over her figure. Above it, she was smiling at him and watching his face.

Secondly, he noticed that the girdle was very tight indeed on her and she had a good figure for a woman of her age. He didn’t know what her age was but he’d assumed she must be the same as his own mother; around 50. Now he realised that she was only about 40, but had dressed older than her age for some reason. He became aware for the first time that she had a nice face as well as a shapely figure. Something stirred in his groin and he began to blush with his own knowledge of the effect her body was having on him.

Thirdly, his towel slipped and almost fell to the carpet except that he caught part of it with one hand. But the revelation was made and she could see more of his body than he could of her. She chucked again as he tried to recover his covering and some dignity.

Fourthly, she saw the beginnings of an erection peeping out from behind the dislodged towel.

All this happened in less time than it takes to tell; maybe all in the same second of time. He was transfixed, not knowing what to do, how to move, what to say. They were only a few inches apart, in the same positions as they’d occupied when he held her girdle. In his indecision and embarrassment, he was stationary and it was she who moved first.

She reached down and took the front left suspender in her fingers, unclasped the adjuster and pulled the stocking up tighter. She did the same with the front right one. Although she made the movement to reach around her left side, to adjust the suspender over her hip, she couldn’t twist so far and said to him, “Stephen, please will you tighten this suspender for me. I’ll show you how.”

He went around her side and kneeled down, to do as she instructed, so that the stocking became taut against her leg. As she told him, gradually he worked his way around all four suspenders that she could’t reach, until her stockings wer pulled up so tightly he thought they must break away from her girdle. He passed his hand over each of them and felt the tension in the suspenders, pressing their metal clips and buttons into her flesh. He noticed also the tightness of the girdle itself at its bottom edge, so that it dug into the flesh of her legs and under her bottom. He wondered that she could bear to be so tightly contained in this girdle, and he found it the most erotic sight he’d ever witnessed. He stood up and came round to her front again, looking into her eyes.

“Do you like this?” she asked, smoothing down the front panel of her girdle.

“I like it very much. It fits you beautifully, Mrs Godwinson.”

He looked over the girdle and her figure, so see more of what she meant. The girdle was made in seven panels with a firm smooth panel over her tummy supported by two long spiral bones up each side of it. At each hips, there was another panel of stretchy material that included short bones from her waist to the top edge, which reached right up to the crease of her breasts and the bottom edge of her bra cups. On her left hip, the panel included a firm metal zipper. Around the back, there was a narrow panel that connected the hips section to the back panels, also with full length steel spirals vrom the bottom edge to the very top. the back panel was divided into two horizontally: the top portion from her waist to the top edge was in firm elastic with short bones to prevent it rolling over as she moved. The lower section was satin-like but stretched up and down, although not side to side, and was very very smooth. He laid his hands on her hips and ran them smoothly over her thighs to the bottom edge and the suspenders, and then around her back and up towards her waist, feeling the smoothness of the satin panel and the firmness of her waist.

She moved towards him a little, and pressed her left bra-covered breast against his arm, and spoke just one word.


“Mrs Godwinson,” was the only reply he could force from his lips.

“Stephen, please hold me a moment until I’ve recovered.”

She took a further small step and put her hand on his arm. He didn’t move so she took his hand and pulled it around her waist, moving towards his chest as she did so.

Involuntarily, or at least without knowledge of what he was doing, he wrapped both arms around her and felt her breasts against his torso. She held onto him and began to sob. Her tears and her distress were both real, after the frustration and discomfort of the past hour. She began to relax into his embrace and placed her head against his shoulder since he was at least a foot taller than she was. As she sobbed into his shoulder, he could feel the tears running down his chest and into the hairs. He held her more closely and became conscious of her warmth and the yielding nature of her embrace. She flattened herself against him so that they were in contact from his shoulders to their thighs and knees. And his erection grew every second with the feel of this curvaceous woman in his arms and the firmness of her underwear. He’d never held a girl or a woman dressed like this and the experience was having a profound effect on him. His erection was raging by this time and forcing its way against her body, so that he could feel the firm tension of her girdle against the sensitive tip of his penis. She pressed against him slightly closer, in the region of her hip and his groin, as if to trap it for herself and to encourage its further tumescence.

Together, as if by a secret signal, she looked up into his eyes and he looked down into hers. He bent his head and she reached up with hers, rising slightly on her toes, and their lips met briefly. She’d showered earlier and he still had the scent of the shaving gel on his skin. They both smelled each other and their senses became inflamed together.

Looking into each other’s eyes and holding each other’s bodies, she steered him towards her double bed until their lower legs brushed against her duvet. She let go of his torso and shrank onto the bed, gently taking his hands in hers as they came into her reach. She pulled gently and he leaned forward until he slowly collapsed onto the bed a little to one side of her. The towel, by this time, had completely disappeared and he was naked in his excitement.

As he lay, half on her and half at her side, she held his hand to her breast. He was lying on the other hand but had it pressed against her thigh, feeling the strong fabric of the girdle and the spiral steel that ran down the side of her hip to the suspender just out of his reach. He slowly and gently massaged her breast, lifting it in his palm and closing his hand over as far as he could. He could feel that she was a nicely bosomed woman, firm and shapely, and well held in her clever bra. She reached up with both arms and pulled his head towards her which had two effects. One; their faces met and continued the kiss. Two; the entire front of her body was open to him and he let his hand rove over her. Both breasts, throat, tummy and groin until, of course, eventually, he placed his hand over the edge of the girdle and let his fingers rest upon her pubic hair and the smooth roundness of her mound.

She squirmed with delight and made a little mewing sound into the kiss, so he continued and pressed his fingers into her lips, to find them moist and warm. No; he found them wet and hot. He wasn’t an experienced lover but he knew what was happening and slowly he moved himself over her body without losing any of the contact of the kiss, until he lay between her legs. She raised her knees and he opened his under hers, so that he could push her knees even higher. Without any loss of the kiss, he hunched his body against hers and found that his penis was perfectly aligned with her labia. Keeping her knees up and over his own, he pressed forward gently and found that he was leaning against an opening door. Her body parted before him and he slid slowly and gently into her. All the while, their kiss had continued but now, as he entered her, her mouth opened, her eyes closed and she arched her back slightly so that the kiss ended. He was inside her and she was inviting him further.

He let her knees down by straightening his own legs and put his hands behind her shoulders, and pulled with some force. She came down the bed to meet him and he moved up the bed to fill her. Now they were fully locked together and her arms again clasped behind his shoulders as he lay on her full length and pumped his organ into her slowly and deliberately. She writhed under him, making him stroke the sides of her vagina as he came into and went from her body. Her excitement was growing every second and her reactions surprised her after so many years without a man’s stimulation. She felt the need to relax and let it happen to her. She was aware of the pressure of the corsetry on her body and the extra stimulation it was giving to her.

As he plunged and withdrew, she let go of his shoulders and raised her arms above her head on the pillows, and opened her legs a little more so that she was entirely available and open to him. She lay there in her firm, controlling underwear and he pressed his body against it and her as he moved and moved towards his climax. When he was deeply inside her, the bottom edge of the girdle pressed against his groin and against the root of his penis, as if to keep him out. But he was not to be kept out and he enjoyed the sensation of forcing the girdle against his penis as he immersed his organ in her warm wetness.

Now her orgasm was developing as she remembered it so long ago, and she wanted nothing to stop the great outpouring from overtaking her when it came. Nothing mattered to her but the rhythmic movement between her legs, the pressure on her clitoris from his organ and also the edge of the girdle, and the knowledge that he was reaching high up into her body with his young stiff organ. It was coming, it was coming, please don’t stop, please don’t let anything stop it.

“Yes,” she murmured in his ear, pleading with him as he lay on her, “yes, oh yes. Please.”

Her words excited him even more and he became extra sensitive to her body, the tightness of her vagina and its wetness, the firmness of her corsetry underneath him, the suspenders pressing against his thighs, and the smooth slipperiness of her stocking tops as he bucked and plunged and pulled at her insides. His excitement was now very close to finishing but he wanted to please her. The suspenders buttons pressed into his legs and he was excited further by the sensation and the knowledge of what she was wearing as he filled her. He was on the point of anxiety over his speed, in case he left her too soon.

He needn’t have worried. Her excitement was at least equal to his own, her breathing became deeper and ragged, her body flexed itself as her abdominal muscles tensed, and with a great intake of breathe she came to a mighty orgasm under him and within his arms that still grasped her behind her shoulders. It was too much for him, he made just two further deep moves into her before his own climax overtook him. He plunged once more but he wanted to stay still and feel his juices pouring into her. He stilled and she put her arms about him once more, and pulled him towards her as he emptied himself into her.

She could feel his warm liquid filling her body, and the quivering heat of his body as he tried to relax into her. She held him as if her life depended on it, and as if he were the only other human in her universe. For two minutes they held each other, she around his neck and him around her shoulders. He relaxed onto her firmly controlled bra-covered breasts, and she held him so that she could feel the weigh of his body adding to the tension in the fabric of her corsetry all down the length of her torso. His legs lay between hers, with the nylon of her stockings rustling slightly as he breathed and moved almost unnoticed by either of them, catching his breath again. He rolled sideways to take his weight of her and settled onto her shoulder with her arms still about him. He rested one hand on her groin, with one finger over the edge of her girdle, where his penis had been forcing its way a few minutes earlier. He was aware of the tension in the girdle and the smooth tightness of the fabric over her pubic area. Although he had never experienced such clothing or such fetishistic excitement before, he knew instinctively that she had gained extra pleasure from her corsetry as well as satisfaction from his treatment of her.

They fell into a satisfied slumber for some minutes, breathing more rhythmically and shallowly, and then awoke together looking into each other’s eyes. She smiled first and he followed immediately. They both knew this would be the first but not the last time they would share their bodies.

He ran his hand down over the zipper, raised himself on one elbow and looked at the spot where it had been stuck and she had bled. Sure enough, there was a small stain on the girdle, and he placed his hand over it. He bent down towards her breasts and kissed both of them through the firm fabric of the bra, one beautiful little mountain after the other.

She chuckled and said, “That was wonderful. Thank you.”

“No, Mrs Godwinson, you gave me a great pleasure. Thank you.”

“Call me Margaret, if you will, please, Stephen.”

“Margaret,” and he smiled broadly towards her.

She reached up and pulled him towards her for another deep kiss. For them both, the excitement was not finished, only resting, and it would come back equally forcefully within a few minutes.

That day, Stephen didn’t get to college at all. They got up from the bed at teatime and he helped her undress, and watched her in her deep bath. He kneeled over the edge and helped to wash her body with his strong hands, and she let him do it. He rested his hand between her legs for a few moments, moving only sufficiently for her to feel his closeness to her labia and her vagina. She lay back in the bath and enjoyed the attentions of this young man who had pleased her many times and now was cleansing her body. To herself she said, “Ready for the next time.”

And she was right. Their excitement grew into a special friendship in which her corsetry took a special place. He learned about her collection of firm underwear and she learned how to excite him with her wearing them, and responding to his excitement with her own. For the rest of his life, firm controlling corsetry created a very particular stimulus for him, as it always had been for her. He dressed her each morning and undressed her each evening, but only after they had enjoyed each other’s bodies, with her inside her girdle or corselette or basque or sometimes a real corset, and him deep inside her. They slept with the knowledge that he would dress her in the morning, and that the excitement would overcome them again. Her girdle would never again be a problem.

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