I canput my knee into the small of his back and just pull. I love it. Hisdaily working corset keeps him at twenty six inches, but I cansqueeze him dow... to a twenty two inch waist when I want. Besides mywaist is a twenty six so sissy can wear my hand me downs without muchaltering. My favorite number is twenty one so that's still my goalfor him. We'll get there. Sissy has even passed out once from anextremely tight corset. We've both learned since then. The otherthing I love about corsets are. She beganfeeling fully, a mans desire. She reached out to touch one ofthe breasts which she once called her own. "What . . . What are you doing?" Leary said. "I just have to feel . . . ME. Or the me I knew. It'snot the same using some one elses hands. The feel . . . well itisn't the same. It gives me a different kind of reaction,Gretchen said. "Yeah. I know the what you're referring to. You'dbetter stop before you find it impossible to stop, Leary said. "I. I called Cindy. When she answered she said "Hello, Betty" and I'll admit to being flattered that I was still in her contacts. I gave her the short version of the events that had just transpired. I was even more flattered when Cindy invited me to come right over. We shared the same zip code so it was nothing to motor the few blocks. "What happened with you and Plumrose? Did you actually meet him?" Were my first questions. "Oh sure, I saw him twice." "And what's he like?" "He's disgusting!" "In. .. uselessly... with the backs of your knees...still trapped... underneath his arms... in the crook of His elbows... asHe raises His dark... scary looking hands... up towards your face...reaching around... the back of your thin little neck... and then grabbingthe back of your head... and both sides of your fear stricken... poorwhite face... in both hands... and you can still smell the tobacco... onHis breath... even stronger now... along with the feel... of thecoarseness... of His rough.