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The Corset - Part 2 of 2


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Maggie enjoys Wild Bill then, much to her surprise, finds a special man

The next time I saw Wild Bill was two weeks later when I went to his house for beer, pizza and what else... sex. I had finally learned his name, Bill Jackson, and thought the Wild part was particularly apropos. Much to my surprise, another girl was already there. He introduced us. Kaitlin was a “surprise present” for me.

What a surprise she was! That girl could eat pussy like no male, or female, I had ever encountered previously. She brought out every bit of the euphoric bisexuality that lurked within. We enjoyed each other immensely. Even when Bill was battering one of us, Kaitlin and I always found a way to ensure our mutual pleasure. My time savoring her puss, while Bill was in me, was the best of a wonderful night.

We all ended up sleeping in his bed and enjoying each other the following morning. When I thought about it later, I could not decide which I had enjoyed more, that Saturday or my previous one with just Bill. They were both amazing and pleasing in different ways.

Two weeks later brought another Saturday night at Bill’s. This time Kaitlin and a guy, Terry, were there. Another “surprise present” for me. Once again, I had an incredible time. Even though we all interacted, I was the center of attention. I always had at least two of them giving me attention, attention that, over and over, drove me into the senseless world that Wild Bill had introduced me to.

The climax was the DP. Having both guys in me at the same time was overwhelming. Over and over they drove me to the edge of insensibility and brought me back. The evening’s finality was when they pushed me, screaming in the throes of orgasmic passion, over the edge into the dark world I had come to know.

After two more Saturdays with him, I spent most of the following Sunday at home, contemplating and reflecting on my adventures with Wild Bill—Wild Bill was definitely a fitting nickname. He had brought me carnal ecstasy that had previously only been speculation, conjecture, supposition, what-if. A whole new world had opened for me, but what were its implications, its consequences? It was common knowledge that heroin was wonderful until it wasn’t. I felt a huge high when I was being totally consumed by him, but the day after I just wanted more.

Also, I finally admitted what I already knew, that I was nothing to Bill but a fun slut that he could use and abuse. We had no “relationship.” Sure, we liked each other, but I knew that would fade. Was I just going down his rabbit hole, a hole that would eventually consume me? I knew that even though I was a highly sexual woman, I had to maintain boundaries—he would assure I had none. I made a hard decision; I could never see him again.

A few months after that agonizing decision, I started my blog. It stemmed from my efforts at journaling. Never having the daily discipline to keep a diary, I did occasionally write in my journal. This had always proven to be an excellent way to expel recurring, disagreeable thoughts—and sometimes for recording exceptionably pleasing thoughts. Such was the case with the revelries Bill and I shared.    

It suddenly dawned on me one day, that if my writing gave me such pleasure, why not share it with the world—others might enjoy it as well. Of course, it had to be anonymous, had to protect my privacy. Also, a clever name was required to hopefully attract the attention of a few readers. I did not have high hopes in that area but did not really care. Hence, Ravishment and Other Wicked Thoughts, by The Debauched Diva, was born.

My first post was the retelling of a frat party in my college freshman year. It described my going back in the bowels of the house to a dark, and far from spick and span, room, where I happily engaged in somewhat drunken sex. During this hook-up, a second guy joined in—surprising myself, I had my first threesome. Of course, its retelling was embellished a bit; after all, I meant the blog to be quite titillating.

Its first publishing received sixty-one views and three comments—I had readers! Emboldened by my three comments, I went on to write another post, and another and another... Calling heavily on my university experiences, I mentally became the Diva and gave her life.

Several posts recounted versions of my nights with Wild Bill. I was able to expand them to more than the five occasions I spent with him. There was very little need to stretch the truth in those encounters—more in-depth descriptions, and always name changes to protect the players, were all that was necessary.  

As the weeks and months wore on, my bawdy posts received ever more comments. Replying to the more interesting ones seemed to spur on more comments and views. This led to creating the Diva’s own Facebook page. She quickly garnered several hundred “friends,” and the number kept growing. A sort of cult developed, devoted to discovering who the Diva really was—their theories just added to the Diva’s popularity.

This was when my best friend asked me to go with her to a breast cancer fund-raising dinner. Being a nurse, I was more than happy to go and support the cause. That was where I met Jeff.

It never occurred to me that men would even go. I was pleasantly surprised at the number that did attend.

We had both walked to the bar at the same time. He gave a slight bow, smiled and motioned for me to go first, saying, “Please” to me and, “I’ll get the ladies’ drink,” to the bartender.

How gallant and handsome I thought, as I smiled in return, saying, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. That’s what makes it such a pleasure. My name’s Jeff by the way. It’s nice to meet you...” He paused, waiting, of course, for me to offer my name.

“Hi Jeff. My name’s Madeline, all my friends call me Maddie.”

“A pleasure. I hope I become one of them... Maddie.”

There was a bit of an awkward pause as we both searched for the next words. Then, with a smile, “Well Maddie, I hope we see each other later.” I just stood there as he turned and ambled away.

Already feeling squishy inside, I kicked myself for just letting him wander off. This level of attraction had not occurred since the once good days with my ex. Well, the night was young; a way would be found to reconnect.

We were seated at different tables during dinner but afterward found each other. This time the words just seemed to pour from both of us. It wasn’t until one of the wait-staff tapped Jeff on the shoulder that we realized everyone had gone but us. A bit chagrined, we quickly departed, leaving the room to the staff.

We had learned quite a bit about each other: he about my nursing career, I about his job as Assistant Director of IT for a regional bank, about our marital, and significant-other status, single—very important at this stage of our acquaintance. We had run through our families, my brother and sister, his brother and two sisters, plus our parents—his mother dying of breast cancer, hence his presence this night. Our ages, me at twenty-four, he at twenty-seven—I so loved older men. And many other mundane, but interesting, details of our lives. Any intimate-type discussion was avoided.

Mundane as it may have been, I was again squooshy—a sure sign of my attraction to him. I invoked the spirits to please don’t let this just end like this!

I had sent my girlfriend on her way earlier, telling her not to worry, that I would get my own way home. How was that going to work out? Good, I hoped, since he had heard me tell her that.

Looking at his watch, he said, “Wow, it’s almost midnight. I can’t believe the time went so fast. You must be tired.”

Yeah, right! Sleep was the farthest thing from my mind at that point in time. “Oh, maybe a tiny bit, but I really wouldn’t mind a nightcap. If you’re interested that is...”

“My townhouse is only a few miles from here... if I’m not being too presumptuous.”

God NO! Can’t you see the state I’m in? I wanted to shout, but instead replied, “That would be wonderful, but I don’t want to be any bother.” Sometimes our human mating dance seemed like such a waste of time. I know this may sound unfeminine and somewhat slutty, but we both knew, or at least hoped, how this was going to end, why not get there faster?

“Please Maddie, it would be my pleasure.”

Soon I found myself in his beautiful condo that overlooked Lake Michigan. The view, combined with its furnishings, blew me away. I lived in a one-bedroom apartment and he had this... wow! My thoughts were getting way over the tips of my ski’s, but I remembered Mama’s words of advice, “Sweetheart, love is paramount, so always let that be your reason to marry, but if money also comes with it, that’s not a bad thing.”  

We sat next to each other on his soft leather couch, enjoying our drinks, staring out into the night, as we continued to talk. I really was waiting for him to make some move. He was a guy, that’s what they did, at least in my experience. Meanwhile, we talked—about anything and everything it seemed—and I was not bored, in fact, I was enjoying myself more than I ever remember.          

Eventually, I started to yawn. I fought it cuz I was still squooshy, but the night and the drinks were closing in on me. Then he started to yawn.

“I can see you’re fighting sleep Maddie. I guess, if truth be told, I’m fighting it a bit also. I can get you home, or if you want, I have a guest room with a private bath down the hall. The bed is made; it’s ready to go. I would enjoy making breakfast when we get up in the morning.”

He had to be the most chivalrous man on earth. Part of me wanted to rip off my clothes and scream, Take me! However, I resisted, saying, “That is so thoughtful of you. I’d love to have breakfast with you. Show me the way, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

He showed me to the room and wished me, “Pleasant dreams.”

With obviously nothing more going to happen, I went in, closing the door behind me. After a very quick shower, I crawled into bed naked, falling asleep almost immediately.

I woke to the smell of coffee brewing. After a second, longer shower, I opted for the fluffy, white bathrobe I found in the closet. No man could be this prepared and organized, could he?

He must have heard me coming down the hall. “Hi Maddie! Sleep good?” Then as I appeared, “Glad to see you availed yourself of the robe; you look great!”

Walking towards the kitchen, I replied, “I slept wonderfully. The shower head has a great spray, loved the jet-like flow.” Then I did a pirouette; I have no idea why. The strong urge to open the robe, as I spun, probably had something to do with it, but I resisted. I was no longer squooshy. In fact, I was very relaxed and happy—happy in a way I hadn’t felt in quite some time.

As I came up to him, he gave me a light kiss on the cheek; I reciprocated. Pointing, he said, “Have a seat at that table in the nook. I’ll bring the coffee. Do you want anything to eat? I can cook a bit.”

“Coffee will be fine. Maybe some juice if you have any. I think I’m a bit dehydrated from the alcohol last night.”

“Sure thing. Orange okay?”

“Perfect!”

Sitting there enjoying the coffee and juice, along with the view of the sun reflecting off the lake, we did not talk near as much as the previous night. In my mind, I was just relishing the moment, extremely happy to be where I was and with whom I was.

As we were finishing our coffee, Jeff stood and gestured for me to also stand—I did, looking up at him. He took my head in his hands and kissed me on the lips, a gentle, loving kiss. I returned the same, letting my robe fall open at the same time. This kiss was the real deal, an intimate, suggestive one that let me know more was going to happen unless I stopped it—I didn’t.

He made slow, romantic love to me—it was the kind of wonderful I didn’t realize I’d been waiting for. His kisses worked their way from my lips to my nipples, then down to my dripping pussy. As they delicately performed their magic, his fingers trailed over me, causing shivers to swirl through my body. As I was about to scream from the teasing, his tongue and lips went into major get-me-off mode, and did they ever succeed!

Grabbing his head, I pulled him tighter. “Fuck Jeff! Don’t stop. Right there. Yes, fucking YES! Oh god, I’m cumming!”

Like he didn’t know. My legs were straining and quivering as the orgasm ran through me. I rode it out in bliss. Then it hit me, a gentle release of my elixir was flowing from me. No. God not now. Not on my first orgasm. Not on my first time with him.

It had never happened like this before. It was always a surprise, but the surprise had always come after a series of strong orgasms with an established lover.

“Wow Maddie.” I stopped breathing. “You taste delicious! I hope I can count on more of that in the future.” My heart fluttered as I joyfully resumed breathing.

“It’s always kinda a surprise, but for you I’ll try extra hard,” I said demurely. “Now get up here and give me more surprises.”

He did that wonderfully, giving me several more orgasms before he uttered a small groan and released his warm seed in me, setting me off one last time. I know there was never a time, before or after, that all my five senses had so completely merged into such consummate satisfaction.

That interlude started a momentous day which led into more days, then weeks and months. Six months later we became engaged. Ten more months passed, and we were married. It has been a glorious twenty-eight months.

For the first time in my life, I fully understood all-encompassing love. Jeff is truly my very best friend and a satisfying lover.

I did have some initial concerns. Even though Jeff was a good lover, easily satisfying me, it quickly became apparent that, although he was quite experienced, he did not share the kinks that I had come to think of as normal, pleasing sexual practice. Anal, bondage, light S&M, “adventuresome” outdoor sex—none were ever explored. These concerns were overridden by the complete happiness and satisfaction I felt when I was with him.

During this new love phase, we went through what I think is a normal stage of asking and telling about each other’s sexual experiences. Of course, I was honest, to a point. Wild Bill, the true number of previous partners and my other, what some might consider “off-beat,” activities, these I kept under wraps. Also, my blog was still a secret, even though I continued to write it.

My readership slowly, but consistently, grew. It gave me a sort of sneaky/wicked pleasure out of still being the mysterious Debauched Diva. It was thrilling to invent ever new adventures to report as the Diva’s own. This vicarious living provided an outlet for my sexual fantasies that would almost surely go unfulfilled in my real life. It was a small, harmless price to pay for the happiness I found.

This brings me to today, Saturday, our first anniversary.

As the room lightened from the sunrise, my eyes opened to the sight of a rod holding up the sheet. I knew Jeff’s morning log would not disappoint. Knowing he would soon awake, I lay still, watching him breathe and caressing my quickly dampening folds. I wanted him to find me enticingly juicy and plunge right in. My desire soon became reality.

Waking with a bit of a start, and seeing the look on my face plus my hand movement under the sheet, he quickly mounted me, plunging deeply, just as I’d hoped.

“Oh God!” we each blurted out simultaneously.

“Baby, you're so hot and soaking. Damn, I love you so!”

“No more than I love you! Now make me scream!”

They were not long in coming. His furious pumping was driving me closer and closer. Suddenly he stopped, jerking me out of my reverie. Pulling out, he grabbed my hips, physically urging me to turn over.

“Get on your knees. I want you that way!”

Happily obliging, his pumping began again—accompanied by ass slaps, all of them both stronger in force and number than ever before. I was in heaven.

“Fuck yeah! Beat my ass! Fuck that pussy!” Such words of ecstasy tumbled almost continuously from me, as I shuddered from each orgasm.

Ultimately, he paused briefly, dug his fingers even tighter into my hips and jerked me back against him, shouting, “Fuck yes baby! Goddamn, I love you and your pussy!”

Being deeply impaled, I easily felt his discharge begin. Hot spunk flooded into me, pushing me over the edge one last time. Screaming and quivering, I collapsed to the bed. My sudden drop caused our bodies to part. Still gasping, he slipped in behind me, snuggling close, each hand cupping one of my boobs.

“Happy anniversary babe,” he whispered.

“Happy anniversary sweetheart. This was the perfect start to what I’m sure will be a wonderful day,” I replied softly.

“I know it’s gonna be! I knew today would be a big deal, but I really didn’t expect to be as excited as I am. Dinner is gonna be super great! Sorry that I have to go into work for a while, but you know I must supervise the system upgrades that are starting today. I’ll be back like late-afternoon. Plenty of time to relax and get ready for dinner.”

“No problem babe. I’m going to spend hours at the spa so your woman will be totally ready for the evening and you.”

He moved away and went to his closet, coming out with a box wrapped in red paper sporting a big red bow.

“Just something for the evening that I wanted you to have now,” he said as he placed the box next to me.

“How beautifully done,” I said, admiring the wrappings. “I know I’ll love whatever it is!”

With that, I tore it open. It contained a black leather corset, black leather mini skirt with a full-length zipper down the rear and red Louboutin stilettoes. Recognizing the brands, it was obvious they were expensive. I was both aroused and a bit unsure about the corset—I’d thought about them before but never worn one.

“Oh darling, everything’s beautiful... I know how you love me in a bustier, but, you know, this is a corset—they’re quite different.” Holding it up to fully admire it, I went on, “This will be very tight-fitting. The leather, especially with the steel bones, will be quite restricting and constricting...”

“I know. I’m counting on it. You will be magnificent in it tonight! I plan on giving the laces a final cinching before we leave for dinner.”

What could I say? I did love him so... and it was kinda kinky, especially for Jeffery. I flashed on a recent Diva story I’d written about a woman’s experiences while wearing a body-squeezing corset. A fantasy lived out vicariously that now would play out in real life—my heart fluttered a bit.

“Well, I’ll look forward to your return and my final ‘cinching,’“ I said with a smile.

As he showered and dressed, I lay quietly thinking about what the evening might bring—he was keeping it a secret. During this figment, my fingers had begun to slowly caress my soaking nether region.

“Whatcha doin there girlie?!” Jerked me back to reality. “Feelin good are ya?”

I spread my legs wide and pulled my lips open, our combined fluids seeping out. “Why don’t you come in for a closer look,” I said playfully.

“Devil woman! Now that’ll be in my mind all day.”

“Then maybe you’ll get home earlier...” A playful look spread across my face as I pulled a finger to my mouth. “Mmmm, we taste so good!”

He kissed me goodbye saying, “I’ll take care of you tonight!”

“Promises, promises...”

He laughed and shook his head as he left the room. Seconds later the front door opened and clicked shut. A few minutes later I showered and then gave my new outfit a preliminary try-on. The skirt and corset fit like a glove. I loved the unique aroma of leather as it wafted into my nostrils. A shiver ran through me as I thought of the night’s possibilities. What would Wild Bill have thought if he saw me dressed like this? Bad girl! Banish that thought! I had the man of my dreams. Tonight, I would be radiating sexuality from every pore. I was looking forward to my 11 am spa appointment.

When I arrived home around 3 pm I felt like sensual femininity personified. Hair with new curls and additional blond streaks, nails done in “Carnal Red,” body smooth from the full Brazilian, I was to die for. I put on my satin kimono and opened a Chardonnay—the perfect way to await Jeff’s return.

He arrived around 4 pm, apologizing for his tardiness and, after complimenting my “even sexier” look, urged me to don my evening’s outfit. We went into the bedroom where he sipped wine as he watched me dress. I kept urging him to do the same, but he insisted on watching my “transformation.”

Having previously done my make-up, it only took me a few minutes to dress. The leather’s scent and body-hugging tactile sensations all played into my growing carnal urges.

After I stepped into the stilettoes, he came up to me, carefully giving me a soft kiss. Then, spinning me around, he pulled on the corset’s laces.                              

“Exhale fully.”

As I did, he pulled them tight. I was correct about the constriction. My waist shrunk a bit; my boobs were squeezed and pushed up, almost out of the corset. Somehow my erotic feelings were further heightened.

As he showered and dressed in his Armani tux, I sipped more wine and began getting used to my smaller waist, accentuated boobs and generally restricted movement. My imaginings about corsets were proving correct. The constriction I felt brought forth the same lust I experienced when immobilized on a bed.

As we were ready to depart, he retied the laces just a skosh tighter—it was enough to further restrict me. I wondered if he really knew what the corset was doing to my libido.

We drove, mostly in silence, listening to the jazz station on satellite radio. Still no hint of what the night held.

As Jeff pulled into the dimly lit parking area, I saw the old warehouse appear in the car’s headlights. Its sight increased my keen anticipation but also generated sudden, apprehensive feelings. Anticipation because it was our first anniversary, and Jeff had promised to make it most memorable. Apprehensive because the old, dingy, somewhat rundown warehouse did not seem the ideal setting for a memorable celebration.

Jeff had bought the warehouse to expand a craft beer brewery in which he had recently bought a fifty percent interest. The plan was to expand its production and profit, allowing him to indulge his love for the craft of beer. The price was a bargain due to its location in a skid-row, but beginning to revitalize, area of the city. My mind could not fathom an anniversary celebration in the seedy, antiquated structure.  

Stopping near the door, he turned off the engine and wordlessly began to get out. I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Jeffery Logan, this is where we’re going to have our ‘memorable’ first-anniversary celebration?”

“Darling, I think when the night is over, you’ll have found it to be most memorable. Now quit being such a diva and come with me.”

By that time, he had opened my door and offered me his hand. Looking at him dubiously, and thinking about his use of “diva” I asked myself how he came to use that particular word? It definitely was not in his day-to-day vocabulary.

I allowed him to assist me in alighting and then took his arm—he escorted me to the door. After opening it, he led me into the dark interior. The door closed behind us. My attention was drawn to a cone of light, apparently shining on a table some distance away.

Still offering his arm, he said, “Come my dear. Dinner awaits.” As we began walking, he asked if I was enjoying the corset. Even though I was feeling quite bound—I was definitely aroused. My juices had come to life. I was feeling very squooshy.

“It has a unique appeal. Time will tell if it becomes a favorite.” I didn’t want to give away my heated state, at least not at this point. Also, his use of “diva” had not left my thoughts. He couldn't possibly know, could he?

By then we had arrived at a small, round table set for two. Pulling out one of the chairs, he invited me to sit. After he sat in the other, he snapped his fingers. Almost immediately a man appeared out of the darkness with champagne.

“Shall I pour Sir?”

“Please do, Simon.”

First my glass, then his, filled with the golden bubbles of the Cristal. Then Simon disappeared as quietly as he had arrived. Picking up his glass, Jeff said, “A toast to my leading lady and our first wonderful year, plus to uncounted years of pleasure yet to come.”    

I returned, “May my leading man be at my side for all the marvelous years to come.”

We clicked glasses and sipped the amazing wine.

Dinner progressed, with the mysterious Simon serving and clearing as Jeff snapped his fingers. Even though curious, I never asked about him. The whole environment had become somehow magical, even mystical. My lust grew with each course. The corset, even though binding, or maybe because of the binding, was continually provoking my desires. My occasional squirming, to seek some minor relief, only served to intensify my cravings.

Our conversation during the feast ranged from reminisces to the present, with plenty of sexual innuendoes thrown in. He managed to use “diva” several more times, plus other words that could easily be synonymous for “debauched”—all without ever showing any hint of their possibly special meaning.

At the meal’s end, we shared a delightfully smooth cognac. By this point, I was a bit tipsy from the various wine courses and more than a little bit aroused. My squooshiness had become a little much. With nothing to contain it, my juice was escaping onto my thighs. I wanted to jump across the table at him but refused to give in. His demeanor had been, at least outwardly, totally calm, almost monkish. Despite the occasional innuendoes that had been dropped, he gave only small indications of sexual interest. I resolved that his toying with me would cost him, sometime, somehow.

As he finished the cognac, he rose and came to me. Offering his hand, he said, “Now for part two of our memorable evening. Stroll with me.”

As we began to walk in the darkness, a second cone of light came on, illuminating what seemed to be an old, wooden work table. Now thoroughly confused, but game for about anything, I asked what the plan was.

“Patience my sweet, patience.”

I stayed silent as we approached the table. Once there, it was what it had seemed, a well-worn, old table. I could see that it had been covered with some type of padding.

“Remove your shoes and step into these rubber boots.”

Being somewhat relieved to abandon the beautiful four-inch heels, I readily agreed. Once in, they tightened around my feet. “What happened? They’ve become tight.”

“Just to hold you in place, my beautiful diva.”

“What’s with this ‘diva’ shit? You’ve used that word several times tonight. I don’t recall you ever calling me that since we’ve been together!”

“My, my, aren’t we a bit testy,” he said as he unzipped my skirt, letting it fall to the floor. “Just lean forward and rest on the table. I think you’ll find it comfortable.”

Mad at myself for briefly losing it, I ignored him by not answering and did as requested. He was right, it was comfortable. Although still in the grip of the corset, my body was pleasantly supported.

“Now just put your hands out in front of you. That’s a good girl.”

Suddenly my wrists were encased by cuffs and pulled firmly above my head. I was effectively locked in position. There was even a padded hole for my face that I had previously overlooked. I had really fallen for it.

“So, my lovely debauched diva, I believe it’s time for the ravishment to begin. You are a debauched diva, aren’t you?”

He clearly knew the whole thing. No point in trying to deny anything now. “Good god Jeff! How did you find out? Never mind. You obviously know about my secret fantasy life. Are you mad? I assume now we are moving out of fantasy...”

That was when I first felt the lube, then the plug going in my ass. Oh god, he’d somehow read it all. The corset fantasy was one of my latest blogs. The ass plug posting went way back.

“I’m not at all mad. In fact, I’m thrilled. Thrilled that my wonderful wife has a kinky side. I’m a bit sad it took so long for it to come out. Lost time. No more secrets babe.”

“No more secrets darling. I love you so much. I just didn’t know how to—“

CRACK! The first blow of a strap smacked my ass. I began to cry tears of joy. Relief and bliss flooded through me as the blows fell. My secret was out, and Jeffery was embracing it. The blog might end, but my kinks would come to life. God, I loved that man!

By the time he was done with me, I was soaking and exhausted from uncounted orgasms—his seed leaking, drop-by-drop, from both my portals. He had played me like the maestro he was. Everything hurt, but it was such a good hurt. Somehow, he knew just what to do when. The last few degrees of the circle were complete. I now possessed a life more fulfilled than I had ever dreamed of finding.

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