Corsets are a huge turn on for me. I love when I get to wear one, but it’s pretty hot when I get to look at someone else in one as well. As far as I’m concerned, everyone should wear a corset.

I had gone on a wonderful shopping spree for some goodies to wear. I found a pair of heels that struck me as perfectly pointy and shiny, I had new silk stockings, and I splurged on a ridiculously hot and well-boned waist cincher. When I got home, I put my stove top espresso maker on because I had intentions of staying up late and enjoying the feel of my new purchases.

While my favorite kind of strong coffee was brewing over an open flame I set about trying everything on in front of the mirror. Just putting a corset on is arousing, but doing it alone can be difficult. I had my arms in ridiculous pretzel positions, I had strings tied to a door knob, and at one point I even involved my own teeth. When I finally had it on properly I was amazed by my reflection. My waist dipped several inches below its normal 27. I was also enjoying the feel of garment breath control and posture enforcement. The heels were doing wonders with the placement of my ass and I was falling into the throes of fetish dress excitement. I began running my hands on my stockings, my chest, and then I was really getting ready to have a wonderful time with myself when I noticed that my cat was coming into the room rather insistently and meowing with urgency.

At first I assumed he was just trying to get me to feed him, but he seemed particularly concerned for a cat. Finally I pried myself away from the sexy vixen in the mirror and followed him to the kitchen when to my utter horror there was a fire. In my rush to try on my new purchases I had let the flame burn a little too high and it grabbed onto the handle of the espresso maker. At this point there was already fire licking at the wooden cabinets above.

In the event of an emergency you don’t stop and change clothes even if you’re wearing stilettos, stockings, and a very expensive waist cincher and nothing else. I let my shock run through my system for a split second before I did the only thing that seemed rational which was to take a nearby frying pan and knock the espresso maker from the stove into the sink so I could extinguish the flames and get them the hell away from my flammable cabinets.

As the smell of smoke began to cling to the curtains and my cat looked up at me like I was the biggest idiot in the world I realized that I was technically an underwear firefighter which is probably the premise of some L.A. porn film. I realized I had learned a valuable lesson as well.

This is why everyone should have a lace bitch on call at all times. Fighting and struggling with self-imposed bondage can get you so turned on you might burn down your own house.

Filed under: Stories |
Posted on December 11th, 2008
Posted by Miss Maggie Mayhem