During Locktober, my corset knows your secrets—it tightens with every whisper of chastity and tease I breathe against your ear. The pink satin hugs your slender waist as I walk behind you, the metal busks digging into your skin with every taunting phrase.
“I’ll only allow release when your obedience is perfect, pet.”
Your breath hitches as I press my lips to your shoulder, the corset cinching tighter for even the slightest tremble. My fingers dance across the lacings while my warm breath fans over your neck.
“Imagine how it will feel, wearing this beauty for days, as your desire builds and your discipline grows. The anticipation will drive you mad with need, until you beg for my mercy.”
My palm flattens against your stomach, pushing you back against me as I whisper in your ear. “But don’t worry, my love. The only mercy will be in the reluctant release, just before I tighten you again.”
The corset seems to come alive, the laces sliding through the rings with an eerie, deliberate slowness. I rake my nails down your chest, savoring the moan that escapes you. “Soon, you’ll be locked in your own need, desperate to please me, even in solitude. This will be your new reality until you learn to crave my dominance above all else.”
When I finally loosen the laces, it will only be to tighten you again.
