Zippers, Hooks, and Bones

"Oh yes," I had replied, and planned my pleasures without the need to consider the possibility of her stopping me, or complaining. "You are perfect," I had told her...]

I raised my hands under her arms as I lay with my full weight on her, and she lifted her arms out of my way. Slowly but deliberately, I placed my hands on either side of her face, covering her ears. She didn't open her eyes although now she could hear very little. Again, slowly but deliberately, I pushed my thumbs behind her neck, leaving the rest of my hands on the sides of her face. I leaned down with my mouth and kissed whatever of her came to my lips. It was her nose and brow. As I was kissing her in this way, I slipped my fingers away from her ears and over her face until they were under her chin. Now I held her throat in my two hands, as I had before, with thumbs behind and fingers pressing under her chin. I didn't squeeze her throat but I took a position lying on her so that I could push with my arms. Hooking my hands under her chin at the front and in the nape of her neck behind, I could push on her head without strangling her. It was as if I were converting her into one of those Padaung women in Burma, who stretch their necks with brass rings over a lifetime, so that they cannot live without the support they get from the coils.

Her arms were up in the air somewhere; her knees were near her ears; the corsetry was stretched more than the makers had ever expected or designed; her body was being straightened out and lengthened by my pushing against her head. She was gasping for breath and her hands were clenching and unclenching. I glanced at her eyes which were staring at the ceiling, wondering what was happening and how it would end. She knew, and I knew, that I was strong enough to push her head completely off her spine. But that was not my plan. What I wanted to happen began to happen.

Somewhere deep inside her body, a reaction over which she had no control, a rippling and spasming started. I could feel it through the corsetry against my torso, and then deeper down against me erection inside her. Her internal organs and her torso muscles were going into spasm and she was churning like a grinding machine on the end of my erection.

I pushed harder. I rammed my erection into her repeatedly and with more force each time. The corsetry was straining at my every plunge. I was bucking my body over hers as if she were a see-saw and my orgasm was building. And then it all happened at once. With one final push at her head, the spasm inside her massaged my erection to its climax. The corsetry became to move for reasons I couldn't make out. She started to moan through her stretched throat. I flooded her vagina with my sperm and fluids and, at the same moment, the girdle came apart at the front seam. Where the two bones were contained in fabric pockets. They stuck out against my torso, even as I enjoyed my own final spasm of pleasure deep inside her.

I relaxed my grip on her head and raised myself on my elbows, to look down into her face. She was still gasping and her eyes were staring at the ceiling still. Gently and slowly I lifted myself onto my stretched out arms and then lifted myself off her body, to one side; where I had started 30 minutes earlier. I leaned over and kissed her cheek and her shoulder, leaving my head almost resting on her shoulder. She made no movement for some time and then placed her hand on my head, with gently pressure.

Amid her panting, she said, "Oh. Wow," and let out a deep sigh. With her other hand she reached down and felt the wreckage of the corsetry over her torso. The girdle had split from the top edge to the bottom, with bones sticking out and suspenders pointing incongruously in all directions. I placed my hand on hers, on top of the destroyed clothing. We both relaxed and slumbered for some minutes.

After that, we got up and showered. I collected the clothing as we took it off her, and she surveyed the lines it had left on her skin. We spoke no words through all her undressing, nor during the showers, not until we were drying each other.

"I was afraid," she said as I reached down to dry her thighs and calves.

"There was no need to be. I'll never cause you any harm. You were magnificent. Thank you," I said and held her to kiss her in the big towel.

"I didn't know what was happening. What was inside me? Was it you or was it me?" she queried in all her innocence.

"It was you. You're amazing. You're my dream. Can we do more like this in the future? Please," I was almost pleading with her.

"Yes. Show me more," she said.

And that was our first step in a new erotic history. I was going to enjoy lot more girdle sex; a lot more sensations through my skin; a lot more bones and taut fabrics and hooks and zippers; many more suspenders and stockings. And this lovely sensuous woman would provide the figure on which my fetish would be worked through.