1. Reynardine: Fox Bitch in Heat
Dear Lucinda,
You have waited a long time for this, and so have I. Are you ready? May I suggest that you find a convenient space and time to savor this message. Be seated in a comfy chair, a glass of wine perhaps at your side and your shoes off. But, be firmly girdled, or better yet, be corseted as a sign of your solidarity with your cyber-confidante.
I am snugly but comfortably corseted as I write to you. I am self-laced, but nevertheless laced, to an unprecedented dimension.
I am working at home today on a writing assignment. Although I will not go out until noon (a luncheon meeting) I am fully made-up and decked out in a lavender grape jumpsuit chosen for its wide leather belt and its flattering style which sets off the hourglass look perfectly. How novel to be corseted in what essentially are pants and feel so utterly feminine.
I shall describe the corset in more detail presently, but first I want to tell you that I am absolutely in love with this corset. I love my corseted shape and the way it tilts my posture. I love the packaged feeling and the way my breasts and derriere are set off by the narrow waistline. I love the way I swivel when I walk. I love keeping my back straight and bending at the knees.
Lucinda, I was born a hundred years too late. I should have been a Victorian woman. Perhaps I shall become one yet.
The corset I have borrowed from Moira is an odd make, I think. It has a label with the words "Dream Dresser". It is thirteen inches vertically, black, heavily boned with four garters. It has heavy-duty hooks and eyes in front and the laces in back.
I drove over to see Moira yesterday afternoon. She was very sweet to me and has given me this corset. It is simply too large for her svelte model's figure. But, guess what? Moira owns three other corsets. Moira has some interesting tales to tell, I suspect. She has given me hints, but I do not pry. Perhaps she will share more with me as time goes on.
She showed me her other corsets. They are beautiful, expensive looking, richly decorated, and very sexy-looking. It is obvious that Moira in a corset pleases her husband who is older and has a reputation as a sexual athlete. But, I was wondering how she felt about being corseted. Does she corset herself just to please him?
I undressed, and Moira laced me up properly. What a feeling it gave me to have her tugging at those laces behind me! Moira was a little tentative at first and worried that she would hurt me. But, I urged her to go further.
We started giggling like schoolgirls at one point. Moira said she had never laced anyone up before and was finding it to be quite interesting to do it to someone else.
When I was done up I could see in the mirror that the opening in the back was nearly closed at the top, but a little wider at the bottom. Moira said the corset will be too big for me, if I lose much more weight. But, for the time being it fits well enough, although I'm certain that a custom-measured corset would be better.
Moira decided to put on one of her corsets too, so I helped lace her into a full-length cream satin-covered Victorian corset with lace edging and the most beautiful ribbon garters, six of them in all. Moira is positively gorgeous in it and her waist size puts me to shame.
Moira said the same thing to me that you have mentioned - that it was a good idea to wait for half an hour or so and then snug the laces up some. She loaned me one of her negligees (a sexy, sheer black lace thing) and putting another lovely negligee gown on herself we two corseted ladies retired to her living room for a glass of wine and some interesting conversation.
I told Moira that I had a friend (meaning you) who was quite experienced with corsets. I shared a few non-critical details with her about your corset exploits.
In the course of our discussion it became apparent that Moira enjoys wearing corsets for reasons other than her husband's fantasies, although she admitted that she is rarely corseted except for their lovemaking and playtime.
Now, I must be honest. Practically from the minute the corset was put around my waist and the lacing begun, I began to feel erotic and sexual impulses. It was about all I could manage to keep from embarrassing myself in front of Moira, but the steady burning blush on my cheeks and the slight dampness below gave me away. Moira smiled at me knowingly and said it would pass. Well, it didn't pass. I managed to control myself a bit, but I actually had the impulse, Lucinda, to excuse myself, go into Moira's bedroom, lie down and use my fingers to masturbate.
When it was time to go, Moira tightened my laces up and I dressed in my skirt suit for the drive home. Fortunately I had worn the black long-leg Smoothie girdle which matches the corset very nicely. All the way home, corseted and in female heat, slightly buzzed from cheap wine, but not legally drunk, I fantasized about being taken off to bed by my husband and given my due. But, it was 4:00 p.m. in the afternoon. My husband had a meeting to go to and was expecting his meal promptly at 6:00 p.m. Sex would have to wait.
At home I debated whether to stay corseted or not. I hated to take it off, but I was afraid to keep it on. When my husband walks in here, I thought to myself, I'm going to disrobe in front of him and attack him, force him to have sex with me and satisfy me.
As I pondered the possibilities and started supper my son and his girlfriend arrived. They had planned to be elsewhere, but the plans of sixteen-year-olds change almost hourly. I went upstairs and removed the corset.
Later on in the evening I put it back on, experimenting a bit with the laces and trying on several outfits to see how they might look on a corseted body. Erotic feelings welled up again. I remembered what Lynnette said, who wore the bustier to work and could only think of her boyfriend.
My husband was late getting in. He was tired, oblivious, and fell into bed. I fell in beside him, corsetless, and frustrated. I had trouble getting to sleep. Finally, around midnight- I confess - I played with myself, quietly fantasizing and fingering myself. I enjoyed a very nice, wet orgasm followed by a series of spasms. Then I fell asleep. I had a dream about Moira and being corseted. This morning I feel like a changed woman. I feel like I have entered another room in my life that I always knew was there but never dared enter before.
I have a new perspective to explore in my erotic life. As I sit here so primly corseted I feel disciplined and womanly. I feel my sexual power. I feel seductive. I feel confidence in my femininity. I am going to have to make time and room in my life for corsets. I'm not certain I can wear them in public, but I know that I shall be frequently corseted at home, particularly in the bedroom.
I am laying sly plans already to trap my husband this weekend. The corseted bitch fox in heat may drag the innocent male into her lair this Saturday. It has to happen sometime.
Lucinda, forgive me, but this is what I want…
I want to be laced as snugly as possible and dolled up in my sweetest house-dress with petticoats, hose, heels, make-up, perfume and a satin bow in my hair. I want to be a good little wife and fix a nice meal and serve it to my husband in the most submissive manner with a ruffled apron tied in a big bow around my corseted waist.
Lucinda, I want to be coy and seductive and sexually desirable. I want to be petted and fondled in my corset. I want to play kissy-face while perched on my husband's lap. I want to have my nipples tweaked between his rough fingers and my girdled bottom smacked playfully with the flat of his big hand. I want him to lace me up within a inch of my life to the point of hiccups and panting, breathless passion. I want to be taken by the waist and hoisted onto the bed. I want my husband to take me as a husband and make love to me while I am corseted. I want to feel his tongue in my mouth and also in that special place. I want to be penetrated and brought to orgasm repeatedly. I won't be satisfied otherwise.
Oh, what this corset is doing to me.
Your corseted confidante and bitch fox in heat,
Reynardine
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