Wednesday, May 16th, 2012 at
Image courtesy of http://firmlygirdled.tumblr.com
I bought myself a new corset today. It was a present to myself, for accomplishing a goal I had previously set, as well as an outfit to wear to an upcoming event. While I absolutely love the way my body looks in a corset, they are beyond a fashion statement. For me, it is a form of self-submission.
I don’t have a Dom, and my other half is just starting to explore her Domme side. After being a very heavy bottom for many years, adjusting to a vanilla relationship did take some getting used to. More than eleven years later, I find myself coming full circle and once again treading lightly into the world of active D/s. For me, corsets are the heaviest form of submission I have access to at the moment.
Corsets force you to move your body in certain ways. Always upright, always proud and presenting. Corsets restrict your movements, making you adjust yourself in the way that it demands. It takes your breath away, just as a good Mistress should. When done correctly, they leave distinct red marks on your body, and make you ache when they’re gone. Although you can’t always act out while wearing one, corsets make you think, and plan, and forecast, just as I used to do when bent over a sawhorse on a stage in front of a gasping audience.
My corset tastes have changed over the years. While I used to have a steady stream of underbust corsets that left my breasts exposed, I now prefer the over-bust variety with their support. Not that I am any less proud of my breasts as I was before age, pregnancy, breast feeding and weight loss took their toll, but for that additional element of coverage – of control.
So when my parcel arrives in a matter of days, and my partner straps me in, tied me up, and takes my breath away, I will submit. Both to her as my wife and my Domme-in-training, and to the corset itself.