Her Corset Revenge

That was 10 inches less than my normal waist size. I looked in the mirror to see if the remaining laces were visible. Over each waist and down to each hip was a gap of about three inches, on both sides.

Two women came to me and started to massage my figure through the corset, especially over my waist on each side, where the laces were still open. They were pressing on the corset and through to my skin, pressing upwards and then downwards, as if the encourage my flesh to reallocate itself. These women were dressed in highly erotic outfits. One was in the diver's wet suit with a bulge under her crotch which I could see was a black dildo held inside her by a tight strap. The other was in a tight white girdle, very high over her ribs and zippered at the side, with eight suspenders to black stockings and a long bra that pushed her breasts into bullets sticking out of her chest. I could feel my erection stirring with the sights and with their massaging.

Even as I realised it, my excitement was added to by a third woman who kneeled in front of me and took my penis in her hands and her mouth. Very expertly, she sucked and bit on my little excitement until it was a raging erection. I was massive, more than any woman had brought to me before. I was impressed at my own size and other women came around to watch.

"That's a mistake, Daniel." Alison spoke, "Think about it. How can you pee through that and soon now you'll have to pee. You'll just have to, Daniel. Soon now."

The two women left off their massaging and took the laces in their hands. They took up the slack and then placed a foot against my thigh and simply leaned back with both their two weights. I looked in the mirror and saw my waist disappearing. I was being supported by my elbows against their combined pulling but my knees began to buckle. I felt heavy in my head, a ringing started in my ears, and grey patches appeared in my vision. I was passing out and I knew it but couldn't speak or support myself. At one stage, the bindings on my legs were keeping me upright but I became aware of increasing numbness all over my body, and weakness in my legs. I began to sag, the woman at my penis took it out of her mouth and moved backwards, and I was let down to the floor slowly until I was kneeling in a semi dazed state. My bladder was complaining from the ferocious pressure of the corset and all my internal organs re-aligned themselves into my pelvis. I needed to pee or else I'd burst but my erection prevented me from releasing any liquid. I really thought I was going to die from a burst bladder and peritonitis. As I began to black out, one of the women brought a bucket and my erection subsided just enough to let go of the valve and I began to pee copiously. It came and came from me until I filled the bucket, and the women were standing either side of me and continued forcing my waist ever smaller. All that mattered to them was the smallness of my waist.

I couldn't stand this much longer and began to crumple from my kneeling position. I was allowed to fall forward and the two lace women were leaning backwards with all their strengths. Two other women came and took hold of the laces both sides, adding to the original two and I was being crushed in two by four women leaning back with their combined weights.

Something in me seemed to creak; deep down in my abdomen, something creaked noisily and I thought for a moment they'd burst my intestine or crushed my spleen or some such injury. I was in real pain inside although my skin was now totally numb, as were the joints at my hips and knees. Something inside felt as though it must burst and I began to say to myself through the haze of weakening consciousness, "Now it's finished. I'm dying or I hope I'm corseted finally. Now the corset is closed. Please. Please. Let it be finished now."

As I was thinking and wishing, I felt the surge in my rectum. It started with a sensation of fullness about 10 inches inside me, and quickly became a pushing at the top of my rectum, and then a forcing of the anal muscle. I had no control: within two seconds, my bottom simply opened and the entire content of my colon snaked out of me as I lay there with these four women struggling to cut me in half with a tiny-waist corset. It must have been two feet long, curled up between my legs. I was aware of the sensation and of the smell but, above all of that, I could hear a group of women cheering and laughing. This is why they'd come; to see a man have the shit corseted out of him. I passed out.

I came round after a few seconds, lying amid my own excrement. I felt as if I'd been cut in half at my waist and had no sensation at all below the tightest point of the corset. As I regained my senses, someone was cutting or untying the bonds on my arms and legs, so that within a few moments I was free. But not really free because the bondage of the corset prevented me from bending or turning myself around in any direction. I was stranded on the floor, unable to stand or even to get away from the pile of shit between my legs. There were women around me all watching and talking and then one of them reached down behind me.

"Let me see what you're like inside that corset," she said

Before I could work out what she was doing, she pushed her fingers against my anus and worked three or four of them into me. Gradually, she wormed her hand into me against the resistance of my sphincter and the pressure of the corset. But she would get inside, that was the intention and she pushed and pushed until her whole hand slipped into me. Now I was an hourglass figure lying in my own waste, and impaled on the arm of a sexily dressed woman. There was more cheering

"Now you know what it's like to have an 18-inch waist and have your insides smashed and mauled," Alison said, close to my ears, "isn't it good to be in room 18 and waist size 18? I picked it specially for you."

I passed out again with her words ringing in my ears.

The next two hours were an agony of tightlacing and of humiliation for me. Alison gave me a long lecture about her own humiliation at my hands, when I'd insisted on reducing her to a skeleton waist.

"You'll never know how I felt to be laced so tight that I had no feeling in my body, and couldn't breathe, and couldn't speak. And then you pounded my insides with your stiff thick prick for hours and hours and hours. Until you were satisfied and I was just wrecked: not a woman any more. Just a hole for you to force into, inside a tight-laced corset that no woman should be forced to wear. You didn't care who I was, so long as you could lace me until I was hardly conscious and then smash my cunt until you filled me. I loved the corsets and I still do but I came to hate you, Daniel, because all you wanted was a corset to shag. I love my figure and my corsets but hate you, Daniel, for the battering you gave my body and your pounding in my cunt."

Other women spoke the same hatred to me. "I loved corseting but my husband laced me so hard and shagged me so much that my entire cunt fell out of me. The bastard laced my insides out of me and even then carried on shagging me until I was unconscious. I was in hospital for a week. You're all the same."

"And I liked my corsets too, but my husband made me so tight that my ribs broke whilst he was holding my waist and fucked me like an animal."

"I told him about corsets but then he laced me so tight, for so long, for weeks and months without a rest. And now my stomach muscles are all wasted away. I can't live without a corset now. And still he shags me like a whore every night. Well, now you know what it's like."

"He tightened my corset so tight every night that I passed out and then he did what he wanted. God only knows what he did to me. I never knew what he did. All he wanted was a tight corset with holes to shag."

And more of the same was said to me by one woman after another.

After the two hours, I was a helpless, corseted and filthy male, and they propelled me into the bathroom, where there was a bath of hot water waiting. For a moment, I looked in the long bathroom mirror and held my own waist in my fingers and thumbs. I could make my hands meet around the smallness of my waist over the corset, shit stained as it was. The last woman to leave the bathroom leaned towards me with a knife and I thought she'd kill me with the hatred they all felt. But no; she went behind me and made one cut at each of the two back laces. I felt the tension ease off and spent no time wondering what would happen next. I reached round as best I could and undid the rest of the corset. My body was marked by the bones and the tight fabric, and the skin at my waist was torn and red with blood lines, as if a sharp knife had been run around my body making hundreds of little cuts. I sank into the bath water with relief and started to clean myself.

When I came out of the bathroom, the chalet was deserted. Someone had cleaned up the mess and there was the strong scent of an air freshener. Not a single woman remained and there was no sign of Alison. I haven't seen her since that day but she was right. It was a weekend I'll remember for ever. Since then, I've corseted my women friends with more care. It was a lesson worth learning. I had with me the clothes I'd brought in my case but no transport, so I waited until morning and called a car from Reception, to take me back to Leeds.

In the days after that, my insides were upset in some strange ways. I wonder now if I had a twist in some length of my intestine. I think it's called a torsion. I got very constipated for over a week and then in the middle of one night I was woken with a tremendous pain, and felt my rectum retching as it had done inside the corset on that night. I just got to the bathroom in time before unloading a massive bowel-full. After that, I got better.

The torn skin around my waist lasted for a month, and my ribs ached for even longer. Today, I alternate between fear and hatred over what they did to me, but also excitement to have been shaped so much and to have so many women working on me in an erotic setting. But I wouldn't want it to happen again.