© Copyright 2006 - PainslutJulie - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sbf; leather; corset; susp; cons; X
About a year ago, I had bought one of my very favorite pieces of clothing. A knee-length leather corset dress. Even though I was just a student, I had saved up enough money to finally pursue some of my passions. Leather clothing and bondage were top of my list. The combination of the two was irresistible.
I always thought of myself as fairly attractive. I had just turned 24, was a first year law student at Stanford University, and had even begun a modeling career before applying to Law School. But developing any sort of social life during my first year at Stanford proved totally impossible. Even when I tried my very best by wearing skin tight leather pants and 5-inch heels to my small study groups, I had no luck.
It was fun to wear leather around school, but I got nowhere trying to find a bondage partner. That left me with only one option – self-bondage. But I did not want to blow a lot of my savings on bondage year that I might never use by myself. I also needed to balance my limited budget between getting clothes that I could wear in public and other things for my bondage passion.
When I came across a site that offered knee-length leather corset dresses, I knew that I had to have one. And I already had the perfect opportunity to wear.
The dress arrived two days later. I was perfect. I had a natural 24-inch waist, but I was sure that I could train myself to be much smaller. I knew that the normal recommendation was to choose a corset that is about 2-4 inches smaller, but I wanted to do better than that. Average was never for me. So I ordered a very small corset dress with a 16-inch waist.
I had an invitation for a wine tasting at the Faculty Club. A lot of my professors would be there, alumni, and students. Wearing the dress, I figured some of the more ‘mature’ men would have to hit on me. If they liked me in a corset dress, they would have to be into bondage games.
But when I tried on the dress, I was almost in tears. I had loosened the laces as much as I could without removing them. Stepping into the dress, I could barely pull it on, let alone close the front hooks. After a good hour of pulling and tugging, I finally decided that this was as good as it was going to be, for today. But when I looked in the mirror, I was shocked! There was a good 4 inch gap running all the way down my back. My behind was perfectly exposed! There was no way I was going to the Faculty Club like that. I may want to be provocative, but I was not going to violate any decency laws in the process.
I was totally frustrated. But I made myself the promise that I would go to the next wine tasting wearing the corset dress, and having both sides meet perfectly in back, without as much as my little finger fitting into the gap.
With the next tasting only two weeks away, I had little hope of losing any weight. Besides, I was not exactly overweight. At 5’5” and 105 lbs, I was about as trim as I would ever want to be.
Over the next several days, I came up with ever better ideas to lace my corset tighter and tighter. The real breakthrough came when I worked out how I could use gravity to my advantage.
The basement to my small house was perfect for my purpose. The entire house was supported by a steel beam that ran the length of the basement. It supported everything else above it. Because of its construction, I was able to swing a steel chain over the beam. I then put a butcher’s hook through both ends of the steel chain. That hook would not come down. It would probably have supported 1,000 lbs easily.
The next step was to put on the corset dress as much as I could. With the laces somewhat tightened, but still a 4-inch gap in the back, I placed a ladder under the hook. Climbing up 4 steps on the ladder was easier said than done, but I managed alright. That brought the loops from my lacing close enough to the hook so that I could attach both ends. That was the hardest part.
The next step was easy. All I had to do was go back down the ladder, one step at a time. My own weight, as little as it was, pulled the laces so much tighter than I ever could have with my bare hands. It worked like a charm. I moved very slowly to give the laces time to adjust and tighten all the way. The entire back lacing was a single piece. The loops were place in the middle were I wanted to have the maximum contraction of my waist. The dress also had some front-lacing that could be tightened later to force my thighs together.
As I slowly worked my way down the ladder, I notice that the laces tightened all the way up my back. My corset tightened not only around my waist, but also around my entire upper body. Breathing was becoming increasingly more difficult. But I was very please when 30 minutes later I stood back with my feet on the ground.
I could barely breathe and did not know for how long I could take the pressure on my waist and chest. Within minutes, I had the urge to loosen the corset and breathe again. To my great disappointment, I still had a 2-inch gap in the back. What was I to do?
I still had three days left before the next wine tasting. So the next evening, I went back down to the basement and went through the same set up as the day before. But this time, once I was back on my feet with the corset laced as tightly as I could, I went one step further. I pushed the ladder away with the laces still securely attached to the hook, and slowly began to lean forward. My laces tightened further. I continued to lean forward until suddenly my feet gave way and I found myself dangling horizontally from my basement ceiling held up by nothing more than the laces of my corset dress!
At first, I was sort of in shock. I had not planned on losing my balance, but the effect was an immediate tightening of the laces, and it did not stop there. With every back and forth motion of my suspended body, I could tell that the floor beneath me was coming a little closer. And I could tell how breathing was becoming that much more difficult. Just as I was beginning to wonder how in the world I was going to get myself off of the butcher’s hook, I fell! The laces must have ripped under the stress and my body came crashing down onto the cold cement floor. Ouch.
Fortunately, nothing much happened, except for a small bruise on my hip. The good news was that I had figured out how to make the corset even tighter. The bad news was that I had broken laces.
The next morning, I drove out to a corset store that I had found on the internet. It was in San Francisco and catered to the serious tight-lacers. With slight embarrassment, I explained my predicament and was relieved when the girl helping me seemed to know just what to do. Within minutes, she returned with a small box of laces. They looked no different from those that I had previously in my corset, but these had a steel wire on the inside. Nothing was going to make them rip.
I hurried back just in time for my first class that day. While sitting though Civil Procedure, I came up with a great idea to help me close the last inch or two in the back of the corset. After school, I went by the local hardware store to get one of those cargo belts with a ratchet that was used to tie things to down on trucks. I had noticed that there were two steel rings embedded in the cement floor of my basement. If I could loop the belt through those rings, then loop it over my corset while I was hanging from the hook, I could then use my own strength to pull myself closer to the floor and thereby tightening the laces further. The ratchet would make sure that things could only get tighter until I release the locking mechanism.
As soon as I was home, I threaded the new laces into the corset. Then I pulled it on and went down to the basement. I positioned the ladder nearest to the two steel rings in the floor and looped the belt through the rings. Then I climbed up, hooked the laces on the butcher’s hook, and began the slow process of climbing down the ladder. At this point, my corset had already begun to mold itself to my body shape and the entire process was considerably faster and less painful. But the gap in back still seemed unchanged.
The next step was to push away the ladder and lean forwards until I could let myself go and be suspended horizontally in mid-air. I could feel the strength of the new laces. The corset began to tighten gradually around me. I pushed myself off the floor with my hands and began to swing back and forth. My laces tightened further and my breathing became more labored. Then I grabbed the belt and with my limited mobility passed it over the back of the corset. I threaded one end of the belt through the ratchet and began to pull. The belt was pretty long and it took a little while to get it to the point where it was nice and tight.
From then on, every pull on the belt brought my suspended body closer to the ground. With every inch that I pulled myself down, the laces in my corset tightened further. In the end, I pulled as hard as I could. Sweat was dripping off my forehead and I could barely take the pain around my waist and around my chest. My legs were also beginning to feel numb.
After hanging close to the ground for a few minutes to catch my breath, I loosened the belt. The laces stayed exactly where they were. Now I inched myself forward to get closer to the ladder that I had pushed out of the way earlier. Reaching the ladder and pushing myself up on it back into a standing position was the only way for me to reach the laces over the butcher’s hook and free myself. It worked!
To my great joy, the process of standing up, and then getting the laces off the hook did not loosen any of the lacing. I was ecstatic when I ran with my hand down the back of the corset and realized that I had achieved my goal – the corset was completely closed! I had a 16-inch waist! I immediately measured myself and was somewhat disappointed to see that the leather had stretched a little and my waist was closer to 17 inches, but that did not diminish my delight at knowing that I could now wear the corset dress to the next wine tasting.
But within 5 minutes I noticed another problem. I had barely made it up the steps when I had the overwhelming urge to take off the corset. I could not stand the restriction anymore. I just needed to breathe again. I could not bear to keep the corset this tight for another minute. And as much as I knew that I needed to keep the corset on for at least two hours if I was to go to the wine tasting, I just gave in and began to loosen the corset. Within another 10 minutes I had it off completely and was enjoying a nice warm shower.
My tortured body showed pressure marks everywhere.
I had just one more evening to practice before my debut at the Faculty Club. I was determined to stay with the corset dress fully closed for the full two hours. Everything seemed just a little easier than the night before, but after half an hour of being laced down to 17-inches, I gave up. I was very disappointed in myself. What was I going to do?
If I really was going to pull this off, the evening at the Faculty Club was only going to be more difficult than my practice runs. I had not even thought about footwear! I could obviously not go barefoot, and sneakers would hardly be appropriate either. If I really wanted to impress I had to put on at least a nice pair of 5-inch stilettos. If I was going to be really daring, I would put on my 6-inch super-arched heels.
There was only one way that I could pull off my plan. I had to find a way to keep myself from being able to loosen the corset! Since I could hardly hand-cuff myself, I had to find another way to make the laces off limits. That’s when I had another brilliant idea.
One of my previous boyfriends was obsessed with turning me into his slave. I played along for a while but when I was not willing to go any further we split. Early in our relationship, he had bought me a ‘slave collar’. The collar was about 2-inches wide and was made of solid stainless steel. It had a virtually invisible locking mechanism. A small spring-bolt was set into the collar. When the collar was closed, the bolt locked into the other end and disappeared inside the collar. There was no visible lock on the outside. The only way to open it was with a small tool that could be used to pull the spring-bolt back out and thereby release the locking mechanism. Without the tool, there was no way to open the collar.
After a while, he wanted me to wear the collar permanently. I told him that I would wear the collar if he got the same collar and would wear it as well. We even got to the point where he had ordered a matching collar for himself, but then we had a terrible fight and we broke up even before the collar arrived. A few days later the package came, but I never opened it.
Being a football player, his neck was considerably thicker than mine. With my tiny waist laced down to 17 inches, his collar might just be big enough to fit around me closed corset! It would be like at stainless steel belt that would keep me from getting to the laces. And even if I could get to the laces, I still would have at solid steel belt over my corset that could not be removed until I was at home and had access to the tool!
I quickly looked for the collar. I found it in the back of my dresser – still in its original packaging. I took a measuring tape and to my great delight figured out that its inside measured precisely 17-inches around! I was overjoyed. But unlike mine, his collar was a massive 4-inches wide!
My big night came and I was getting myself ready. After a nice shower, I had talked myself into going all out. This evening was going to be amazing. And for an amazing evening only my 6-inch heels would be good enough. Since there was no way that I could bend down to put them on once I was in the corset dress, I had to start with the shoes before beginning to step into the corset. To add just a little bit of spice, I put a few grains of uncooked rice inside the shoes. Standing on 6-inch heels with hard rice under my soles was going to become agonizingly painful after a while. There was nothing I loved more than the sensation of every increasing pain up to the point where it would drive me almost mad.
I had everything arranged as before. Getting into the open corset was easy, but beginning to lace it up and then climbing up the ladder in my 6-inch heels was another matter. The next steps were a struggle, but I managed to get myself into the horizontal suspension position. From there, it was just a matter of time before I had the corset tightened all the way. It must have taken a good half hour, but when I was hanging close to the ground I knew that I had accomplished my goal.
Getting up, this time in 6-inch heels, was another challenge. I slipped a few times and every time I did it seemed the laces pulled even tighter than before. I was beginning to wonder if I had overdone it and could not get myself back into a standing position. Fortunately, just as I was beginning to have serious doubts, I managed to get up.
I tied of the laces as tightly as I could and went back upstairs.
Spontaneously I decided to put my own ‘slave collar’ on as well. But before doing so I checked to make sure that the tool still worked and I could open the locking mechanism. It worked like a charm. I pulled up my hair, placed the collar around my neck, and locked it in place. I had forgotten about this, but now I remembered. My collar was just a little too tight. It was not unpleasant at first, but after an hour or so it would become very unpleasant. It felt almost like being slowly asphyxiated.
Then I took the larger collar. I placed it around my waist at its narrowest point and tried to push the ends together. It was quite a struggle because the collar was so wide. I was about to give up when, finally, it heard the long awaited ‘click’ and I knew that collar was locked around my waist. It was an amazing feeling. All the pain and hard work was forgotten and I could not wait to get on with the rest of the evening.
To make getting to the Faculty Club, which was all the way across campus, a little easier, I left the laces in the bottom front of my corset dress un-tied. I knew that I would have to correct this later, but walking in 6-inch heels when the mobility of my legs was limited to the area from my knees down, was basically impossible. All I could do was stand and occasionally shift my feet forward by an inch or two. Walking for a mile was out of the question.
Leaving the front laces untied did of course leave a gaping hole between my legs. Anyone wishing to look could see my exposed sex without much difficulty. Having my sex decorated with rather large rings through my labia did not help my situation. To keep myself from being arrested along the way, I decided to put a light coat on over my corset dress, despite the 80 degree temperatures. I thought for a second about adding some of my favorite weight to my piercings but decided against it.
The evening at the Faculty Club was a total success! Once I got there, I quickly went to the bathroom and tightened the front lace as much as I could. To make it just a little more attractive, I pulled my labia rings through the laces in front, stretching them to the limit. From the outside, it looked like decorative rings on the front of my corset dress. Nobody could see that they were attached to my sex. I could hardly stand in my 6-inch heels, let along walk. The pain in my feet was getting unbearable. By now, I could feel the tightness of my collar around my neck. Sitting was completely out of the question. But I managed to get back into the main reception area anyway and quietly stood by the bar.
I had no intention of moving very far, and fortunately, I did not have to wait long before a handsome man in his mid-thirties made his way over to me. We talked for a while. He was so obviously hooked on my outfit, but his attempts to strike up a conversation that would seem fitting for Stanford University were very cute. He was an Assistant Professor in the Chemistry Department and had just arrived from London. His accent was adorable!
It did not take long before we began discussing the properties of stainless steel. I had to confess to him that the stainless steel around my neck and waist were not the only places where such precious material could be found on my body. He blushed, wondering whether if he should try and pull on the rings at the bottom of my corset dress. We must have spent at least two hours talking. It was great. In the end, he offered to give me a ride home. When I had to confess that I would not be able to sit down because of my corset dress, and therefore had to decline his kind offer, he offered to load me on the back of his flatbed truck! That’s when I knew that this was going to be the start of a wonderful relationship.
We made it back to my house long after dark. He was a real gentleman and carried me from his truck right into my house and onto a bed. We made out for a while and it was clear that we were going to make love in just a few minutes. I had all but forgotten that I was still trapped in my corset dress. When I was ready to give myself to him, I asked him to go to my dresser, get out the box in which the collar that was now around my waist had come, and give me the tool to open it.
When he returned with the box his face was pale and he handed me a small piece of paper.
“Congratulations on the purchase of your Permanent Slave Collar. Unlike our regular model, this spring bolt lock cannot be opened once it is locked in place.
WARNING. Before locking this collar around your or anyone else’s neck, please consider that this is a life-altering, irreversible decision. Subsequent removal by a professional may be possible for loose fitting collars. Tight fitting collars can never be removed – believe us, we have tried and failed for over 25 years”