Olga was raised in a traditional Spanish family; she never missed a mass, never swore and never went out without a duenna to accompany her. Her grandmother, a lady whose maid had laced her into a corset every morning, believed that all respectable ladies should be girdled. This outdated concept was forced on Olga at a young age. The women in her family were all gifted with very robust, voluptuous figures. Their abundant curves plumped out and bounced obscenely beneath their clothes no matter how conservative they dressed. Girdles confined this abundant flesh and molded it into more respectable, lady-like silhouettes.
As Olga matured and the times changed, she dispensed with her girdles and occasionally wore body-shaping lingerie. She maintained a lush figure throughout her twenties but as she aged her fleshy curves became more troublesome. Sometimes a long-line bra, tummy tucker or control-top pantyhose just wasn’t sufficient. One evening, preparing for an important business meeting, she struggled in vain to button her slacks. She felt bloated. Sucking in her tummy was painful. Olga decided to try a girdle for the first time in many years. She could drop her size from a 6 down to 4 by wearing a girdle, but for now she would be content simply to button those slacks.
Sorting through a small collection of girdles, some new and still in their tubes, Olga thought over the problems and discomforts wearing a girdle could entail- and the delights. Chafing, cutting, rolling, bunching, riding-up… popped garter clips… the sensation of her flesh being compressed and squeezed into unnatural proportions, the hot days when her girdle soaked up her perspiration into a glue of sweat- these were some of the difficulties. As for the delights, there was the tactile sensuality of feeling smooth and solid with her body encased in that elastic sheath… the lightness of a silk blouse floating on that hard scratchy shell with a strand of pearls rolling between the hard and soft layers. Olga looked over the variety she could chose from- among others, there was a Playtex long-leg panty-girdle, a Ragu open-bottom (with extra garters to prevent riding up), and a sensuous cream-colored Va Bien. She ran her fingertips over the smooth satin panels and the mesh powernet.
Olga stood before her floor-length mirror, examining every curve and bulge of her luscious body. She ran her hands over her creamy caramel flesh and licked her lips while striking different poses. Sucking in her tummy and thrusting out her breasts, she saw the reflection of a stunning figure. This was the effect she hoped the girdle would provide. She greased her skin with a slick scented body lotion, rubbing and distributing the lotion over her buttocks, hips and belly. Olga picked up the cream-colored girdle and stepped into it. The first tug brought the elastic over her knees. By the time she pulled it to thigh level, the elastic was stretching taut over her flesh. She still had to get that girdle to stretch over her thick bottom and wide hips- not to mention her plump belly. Olga bit her lower esat escort lip as she stood knock-kneed with the girdle stretched over her thighs. This was going to be more difficult than pulling on a tight pair of jeans or slacks! Her thighs were squashed together with her lower legs bowed. Her feet were turned in so far they were almost pointing at each other. She looked ridiculous!
The girdle had to be pulled over her hips and ass- the first great obstacle; the second being her bloated belly. Olga bent forward with her first tug. “Urrrrrrrr!” she growled. The elastic was trapped in the dimples beneath her two globular rumps. She reached behind her, sticking her ass out towards the rear and hooking the top of the girdle under her thumbs. Her breasts were swaying beneath her bent torso. She pulled with a sudden motion that nearly toppled her backward. She was hissing through her clenched teeth with a snarl. Another attempt… “Urrrggghhhhh!” Her hips were rotating with her struggles.
Olga was gyrating with the strenuous effort to hoist the girdle up. She gulped with a “Glug!” With her eyes crossing, her teeth clenching, and a sweat breaking out on her caramel colored flesh, Olga tugged and pulled, first on one hip, then the other. She was performing an impromptu bump-and-grind with an accompaniment of involuntary hisses and groans, “SSSSsssssss… Urrrggghhhhh… Pfffffftttt…” As the tight elastic squished Olga’s hot, pulpy abdomen, she gulped. She let out a very short, high pitched “Eieeee!” The elastic smacked over her ass, gripping it with a tight embrace; the crotch snapped over her puffy vulva, squeezing it like an overripe fruit. Olga softly cooed at the sensation, exhaling a sensuous “OOOOooooooo!!!!”
Seating herself, Olga slipped on her fully fashioned stockings, a very sheer 10-denier pair with a glossy black satin finish. She clipped the garters slowly, running her fingertips teasingly along her inner thighs and the welt of her stockings. A nacreous secretion was oozing into the gusset of her panties and Olga knew the thick cream of arousal would seep through as she became increasingly stimulated. Standing, Olga caressed her gartered thighs before running her hands across her ribs to cradle her breasts. She held their weight in her palms, squeezing them slightly so the nipples pointed straight forward. The reflection of her glamourous, seductive body caused Olga’s nipples to grow and her vulva to swell. She pouted her lips and pursed them as if to kiss her reflected image. Her hands rubbed her satin encased belly. Olga’s most sensitive flesh was now squeezed and molded into softly rolling mounds and curves. Her breasts were clasped into satin cups, the caramel flesh pushed up and out. Her nipples were painfully erect, itching and tingling.
Olga admired the jutting breasts and the smooth belly of her girdled body, noting the counterbalance of her fat rump. She arched her back like a cat and felt her curves one last time before applying her soft, outer shell of silk, satin and lace. The taffeta-lined etimesgut escort slacks glided over her stockinged legs with a whisper. Tucking in her striped silk blouse, the button of her slacks fastened without the necessity of pulling strenuously on the tab. She fastened the top buttons of her blouse after clipping on her layered pearls. Two strands were inside, two out. Olga rolled the smooth pearls between her fingertips, imagining the simularity with her hard, round clit. Her ears were also adorned with large pearls and dangling clusters of gold-mounted seed pearls.
Olga understood the differences between male fetishes, which tend towards the visual, and her own, typically female tactile fetishes. Slipping into her heels, she knew her buttocks would roll more fluidly and transfer that motion to her vulva. The girdle would intensify the labial stimulation. The feminist writer Helen Faust once wrote, “Girdles can encourage pelvic tumescence and, if they are long enough, cause labial friction during movement.” Olga knew this instinctively- for her, as with many women, clothes were a form of masturbation. In Olga’s case, it was also a form of self-bondage.
Olga’s state of arousal reached a crisis. She gasped for air, her heart raced and a buzzing sensation tingled her nipples and clitoris. Her breasts ached and her vulva swelled inside her tight girdle and panties. She felt palpitations deep in her belly. Every touch of her skin was erotically charged- her fingertips, her jewelry, the hot silk of her blouse. Olga felt an urge to be bound ever tighter, for her sexual nerves to be strung out like a taut wire, buzzing with electricity. A pulsing sensation seized her entire pelvis- she felt contractions in her uterus and rectum. If she couldn’t fulfill her urge to be penetrated, she would satify the craving to be immobilized and trussed up like a pig.
She leaned forward as if something was putting pressure on her vulva. She gripped her engorged labia with both hands, assuming the knock-kneed posture she had when pulling up her girdle. She sniffed the odors of her arousal. Her body bathed in it. A heat suffused her skin and she broke out in a cloying, gluey sweat. As her flesh heaved and swelled in the confines of her clothes, they gripped her ever tighter in their hot, gooey embrace. Olga mewled involuntarily, and her little pink tongue darted out to lick her ruby red lips. Her eyes swam in their sockets. She kissed and licked her exquisitely manicured fingertips with narcissistic joy.
Olga took out her collection of silk print scarves. There were Hermès, Pucci, Etro, Fendi and other designer labels. She draped one, then two around her neck and savored the silk kisses on her neck and throat. Olga teased herself, popping the top buttons of her blouse, throwing pouty kisses at her reflection, lightly running her fingers over her flanks and hips. Another item clinked on the marble countertop… a large pink ball with black straps. Olga lifted it daintily, staring at her face in the mirror. She placed the ball etlik escort between her lips. Reaching behind her head, she fastened the straps as tight as she could, gulping. The ball didn’t go inside her mouth, but filled her lips and held her teeth apart. She went cross-eyed as she stared at the ball jutting from her gagged mouth.
Readjusting her eyes, Olga caressed a scarf before sitting on the chair. She needed to lift her legs straight and lean them on the counter. As she bent forward, her girdle squeezed out some urine. The sudden hot liquid in her sweaty crotch startled and aroused her. With a high-pitched, muffled groan, Olga succeeded in tying the scarf around her ankles. She dropped her legs to the floor with a clunk. Olga struggled to stand up again, gripping the countertop and the edge of the sink. Next, she tied a scarf around one of her wrists. Staring at her image in the mirror, she put her arms behind her and grabbed the loose end of the scarf with her other hand. Looping the scarf around her free wrist, she tucked the end in the knot on her tied one and pulled it tight. It held her wrists together tight but she could pull it free if she needed to. Olga had tied herself up!
After staring at her trussed-up image in the mirror, Olga bunny-hopped to her bed and threw herself on her belly. Arching her back, she raised her ass off the bed, then dropped it. She mewled through her gag, rolling and undulating her hips. The torment of being bound both intensified and delayed her orgasm. Olga was masturbating herself by slowly humping her bed and stretching her body in its bindings. Her moans became frantic and louder… “Mmmmm! MMMMM! Mmmmrrrr… MMMMM!” She writhed and twisted, alternately stretching and arching her back. Her pearls clacked and her jewelry tinkled. Nylon and lace whispered together. Silk and satin crackled. Her girdle creaked. A gooey paste filled her panties and her nipples oozed hot milk.
Olga grew more frantic. Her undulations became more rapid and her back arched at perverse angles. Her eyes bulged from their sockets in a startled, wide-eyed stare. The sequence of moans increased and as hard spasms convulsed her body, Olga tore her bound wrists apart and struggled in a rush to unclip the ball-gag behind her head. As the gag popped free, she gasped and heaved with throaty gurgles. Her arms flew beneath her as she rolled her torso from side to side to make way for them. Olga’s mouth went wide, her eyes glazing over as they seemed to pop from her head. Her body twitched. Then she went rigid from head to toe. Her fingers gripped her vulva involuntarily. She let out several short “Ughh Ughh Ughh” sounds as she gushed into the sheets. A whining “ooohhhhhhh” and she collapsed like a rag doll on the bed.
Olga lay motionless for several long moments as the orgasmic contractions slowed and gradually ceased. She was soaked. Her hair stuck to her face and scalp. Olga masturbated herself to sleep, caressing her breasts through her open blouse and cupping her swollen vulva in her palm. There were three more orgasms that night. In the morning, she listened to the answering machine messages from the ladies in her office, asking why she’d missed the meeting and urging her to call them to make certain she was alright. Olga swore to herself that next time, she’d have more self-control.