Girdles

5/19/2010 girdles.
htm
Girdles - a journey into fantasy

and back.
BACK to Home Page
This story is about FALSE GUILT

that can be caused by parents,
churches, or other people in power,
and the other problems that are
caused by this form of "Legalism". If
the Bible does not condemn
something, or the law from the Old
Testiment does not apply in this era
(like animal sacrifice etc.). Do not
burden your children with your own
"rituals, customs, dos and don'ts, and
preferences" by enforcing your rules
as if they are from GOD.
You ask: "What is wrong with wearing a girdle?" and that is the
point. Some people can have problems with ordinary things.
When I was eleven years old I found a box of old bras and girdles
in the storage room in the basement. I was overweight and knew
from the television advertisements that grown women used girdles
to make them look slimmer.
I asked my step mother if I could play with these. She said that
she didn't think that I could fit in them. The type of girdles my
step mother had stored away were the open bottom type, with
front, back and some with side panels, they must have been many
years old. They all had zippers on the side and some were high
waist styles with bones to keep them from rolling from the waist.
There was a variety of styles, mostly in good repair, but some had
holes, torn zipper hooks, and torn garters tabs. All were worn in
spots and some had lost their elastic power. I tried some of them
on and they did fit. They were tight and they did make me look
slightly slimmer and a lot less bulging in places.
When I moved around wearing one of the girdles, some tops
rolled over and the bottom with the garters rode up exposing my
butt and the garters poked me. This wouldn't be practical for
wearing under pants and would be very uncomfortable. How did
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women wear these everyday without going crazy. The answer was
stockings. I went to my step mother's dresser, took some, put them
on, and hooked them up to the girdle. This worked for the bottom,
but the top still rolled. By adjusting the top to match my natural
waist and put on some pants with a belt, the rolling top was kept
in place.
I went upstairs with the girdle, stockings, and pants on. I felt
slimmer, but not as comfortable. The girdle's tightness made me
feel stiff and harder to take a deep breath and the area around the
garters and the top of the stockings pulled and pinched. Also my
personal parts were not covered and felt naked. I would need to
wear underpants over or under the girdle. I thought this would
work and tried it. I decided to try to wear a girdle and stockings
etc. when ever I wanted. There were no sexual thoughts and no
shame involved. Just a method of looking better, but less
comfortable. Besides, half of the adults wore them, even though
they didn't like to admit it. They were called unmentionables.
When I looked in the mirror while wearing a girdle, I saw that my
butt looked similar to the butts of ladies in girdle adds. Now I
could also tell whether a woman or girl was wearing one. They
looked like they had one big cheek, instead of two separate cheeks
and felt hard instead of soft.
When one of my friends came over to play and watch TV, I
told him about wearing girdles and showed them to him. My
friend didn't seem to think wearing a girdle to look thinner was
weird and strange. If they made girdles for men, fat men could
wear them, but since they didn't, these would do. To him, woman's
clothes, in general, were weird. Later my friend told his older
sister and she asked if I also wore brassieres, but I didn't know
that a bra was short for brassiere, and I said what is that? I had
tried on my step mother's bras but with no busts, found that they
were useless to me.
I told my stepmother that I was wearing the girdles I had
found and she was interested, but not alarmed. She thought it was
kind of cute as I paraded around playing dress up, wearing just
girdles and stockings. I was curious as to why she wore these types
of girdles and not the new ones advertised on TV. I thought that
the Playtex rubber girdles would do the best job. She said that she
had tried them, but got a rash from them. She said that she hated
to wear bras and girdles, but had to, because fashion dictated that
as a woman she had to wear certain clothes. This stuck with me, I
liked to wear a girdle, and couldn't see why women wore things
that they said they hated to wear. I guessed that wearing one
every day and being uncomfortable for prolonged period could
make them hate girdles, like a slow torture or punishment. But if

girdles were made comfortable, then everyone could enjoy looking
better, including boys and men, especially fat ones.
My childhood background was one of lost love and rejection. I

was adopted into a good loving family and my adopted mother
loved my like her own, but in three years she died of cancer.
Eventually my adopted father remarried a much younger lady,
who was the daughter of one of my housekeepers that babysat me
while I was too young for school. By the time I started first grade,
I had a step brother and since he was a blood relation, I was
treated like a stranger that was a threat to the new heir. I was
then shipped off to various boarding schools so that I had little
contact with my father, family, or any body except strangers.
When I was three and living with an aunt, while my adopted
mother was dying, she dressed me in very frilly dresses, at my
request, she thought it was cute, but the novelty wore off. While in
third grade and staying with my dad's partner, between boarding
schools, I was placed in his oldest girl's room, and I got into her
stuff, and got trapped in her underwear and had to cut my way
out. This caused a large scene and embarrassed my father.
After a year in a Canadian boarding school for 4th grade, I
was sent to Maryland to spend the summer with friends of my
father, who had several of their own kids and lived on a farm
outside of Baltimore. While there, an older recently married
couple who worked for a supplier of both my father and his friend
met me. They were too old to have kids and also could not adopt a
baby. They wanted to take care of me, and eventually adopt me.
They blamed all that happened to me on my father's new wife, and
started to take the necessary legal adoption steps.
I lived in Virginia with them and started to really enjoy life for
the first time. But within two years we were transferred to
Cleveland Ohio. I lost all my friends and went from the suburbs to
an apartment on Cleveland's west side. This was an unwelcome
shock and I made my displeasure known by refusing to obey and
to sass back. These people did not know how to handle a willful
child and also thought I was damaged goods. They called my
father and dumped me. My father was also looking for a dumping
place and considered permanent places to off-load me. This made
me feel like so much trash. After all, first my step mother, and
then these people turned on me. I must be bad and deserved to be
punished.
A Christian couple whose daughter was in college and had lost
a baby, that was about my age heard of my situation. This couple

were also friends of my father through company connections. They
became my guardians and I considered them my new step parents.
They tried to love me and lead me to the Lord, but the damage
was done. I went from the leader to a loner that trusted no adults,
and my self image was at its bottom. Thus when I found the girdles
I was looking for love, being held, punishment, something of my
own, and a replacement for my lost mother. As shown above, with
my background, all adults were suspicious of my every deviation
from the norm.
Having fun wearing girdles continued for several months that

summer. I played with the girdles in many places on the body,
including over the head, wearing more them one girdle at one
time, having my entire body in girdles while they were hooked
together with the garters, and many other combinations. I enjoyed
to be tied up in these as my punishment, and imagined being
trapped in dire situations, at other's mercy, with no escape. The
situations were similar to the heroines in the melodramas on the
TV. This was something that I did while I was alone watching TV
in the basement and lying on the couch. My friends had gone to
summer camp and the playground at the nearby school was not
available because of a summer program. I attended the summer
program for one week, but was not good at sports, and hated
being made fun of because of my weight and lack of skills. So I
played alone with all my toys, rode my bike around the
neighborhood, and read books when the TV was boring. But with
all my friends gone it was a very boring summer. I spent a lot of
time talking with my step mother about everything, including
girdles, boys, and girls. I said I didn't want to get married, and
that most girls did not have any fun.
Later that summer, my step parents went on vacation and I
went to New York with them to visit their daughter (my new step-
sister), then in graduate bible school to be a missionary. From
there all of them, including my step sister drove to Canada to visit
friends at their summer cottage on a lake in Ontario. By now the
girdles were left behind and forgotten like other toys. This
vacation get away was great, and who cares about clothes of any
kind when swimming, camping out, hiking, boating, fishing,
playing games, etc. are available. This lasted for 3 weeks, too short
a time when having fun.
When they returned, I had a step sister to talk to and play
with. But she had other plans that to play with me. She returned
to college and I went to Junior Hi.

With a new set of friends and a schedule of classes, including
gym three times a week, a new phase to my life started. I wore my
girdles on non gym days, when I felt like it. I was afraid that the
others would laugh at me, or think I was weird if they saw me
wearing a girdle and stockings as I undressed in the locker room.
I was already sensitive about being overweight, and being
discovered wearing a girdle would bring more attention and
teasing. Besides wearing anything different would open me up to
more teasing.
The fear of embarrassment was also emphasized to me by my
step mother before junior high school started. She didn't want to
get a call from school and have people think she was allowing or
causing me to do strange things. It seemed to me that someone
talked to her and she had changed her attitude, she was now
actively trying to discourage me from wearing girdles for the
reason that she would be embarrassed by what people might
think. Now she wanted to make me feel that it was wrong to wear
any grown women's clothing. She found a Bible verse in the Old
Testament that forbid the wearing of clothes of the opposite sex.
This seemed strange to me because she wore pants and shorts that
looked like men's clothing. If women can wear men's clothing
whenever they want, why can't I wear something any other
woman wears, especially when no one can see it. If this garment
helps me look better, why not wear it and who cares. That verse
must not apply today, or else every woman in pants would be as
guilty as a man in a dress. And besides, in some lands men wear
kilts, lava lavas, caftans, and other dress like clothes. Who
determines what belongs to which sex?
She then told me about the men who wore woman's clothes and
women who wore men's clothes - homosexuals and how they were
hated by society, totally immoral, and how that even a hint of this
would ruin both me and the family's reputation. The terms Fag,
Queer, Homo, Lesbian, Dyke, Drag Queen, Transvestite, Pervert,
S&M, and Fairy now had definitions instead of vague terms of
derision used by kids. This danger of being called something really
bad, and having people believe it, put fear in me and suddenly
wearing an innocent garment became a sin. She must have thought
I was turning into a homo. But soon I finally put it all together, it
isn't what you wear, as much as why you wear it. If I was wearing
these girdles to tempt people to do wrong - to get them sexually
excited, to excite myself, or to trick people into thinking I was
something I was not, then it would be wrong. But if I wore them to
look better it was okay. But people would think the worst if they
knew I wore them, even though I was doing nothing wrong. The
wearing of anything different would cause people to make fun of
me, no matter what it was. The fashion police - (peer pressure)
works when all other logic fails. Thus it should be a secret to the
outside world.
This off and on wearing of girdles continued throughout
seventh grade, but now it was something to be guilty about. It was
a big secret, I was afraid to get caught and this excited me, but I
wore them much less and only on non-gym days. Now the opposite
sex started to become more interesting. Also the weight problem
became less of an issue as I grew taller I slimmed down. I didn't
know what the opposite sex looked like naked and I thought that
kissing could make babies, but didn't know how. As we grew up
some girls started to get more shapely, they began to wear bras,
nylons, heels, and girdles. I could tell by looking, bumping ,or
brushing against them as they walked between classes. A hard
feeling meant that she was wearing a girdle. This kind of excited
me, knowing that I also wore one. I didn't care about bras, or
whether it was stuffed, but there were many rumors as to who was
wearing "falsies".
As the summer started the same boredom started. And again I
spent a lot of time alone in front of the TV on the couch in the
basement. Also I played with wearing girdles in many ways, but
now it was not in front of my step mother, since it seemed to really
upset her.
One morning I awoke with a strange feeling which I later
learned was sexual arousal. It felt very good, and I couldn't wait
to repeat this feeling. I tried to do the same thing as caused the
feeling, and it repeated. It was great. I told my step mother, but
she said don't do it, it wasn't nice. But I did it anyway, over and
over. Then I tried it wearing a girdle, it helped me and I continued
to do it.
I was taught that having sex before marriage was immoral and
will cause many unpleasant side effects, including getting beat up
by my step parents. But I could fantasize and arouse myself
anytime I wanted, with or without wearing a girdle. This was a
compromise that solved the problems. But was this wrong? Many
people in the church would not even admit that this even
happened to them, and I was not going to volunteer that I did
something strange. But I suspected that, since it was pleasurable,
people thought it was wrong.
Now instead of wearing a girdle all day and to look slimmer,
the girdle was also worn for sexual arousal and then taken off.
Also they were worn at night in bed where no one would see. As
the sex with ones self continued and the wearing of girdles during
the arousal continued, the link and fantasies about girdles and
other underwear items grew. The fact that this was now forbidden
fruit, made the fantasy sexier.
To wear grown up woman's clothes without someone ruining
my reputation, started my fantasy about being a grown woman. If
I was already a woman I could, without fear, wear not only the
grown up underwear but dresses and heels. I tried on my step
mother's clothes and shoes, the complete ensemble. They actually
fit, though I had to stick socks in the bra. I tried on one of my step
mother's wigs, but my head was too large. The shoes were also
very uncomfortable. Everything was placed back in its place and
no one suspected.
On Halloween night I dressed up as a sexy woman, using my
mother's clothes and no one gave me any problem.
Then a disaster, the storm struck while I was in school. The
basement was flooded, and my step parents threw away the couch
and all the underwear that was stored in the basement. They
thought that this would end this underwear problem as well as get
rid of the soaked junk. But it was only the beginning. For a while
the problem was trying to not do it and not wear girdles. But the
urge kept growing and soon I was sneaking into my step mother's
underwear drawer and carefully removing the garments, arousing
myself, and then returning them to the drawer. The opportunities
for this were regularly scheduled, my step parents went to
Wednesday prayer meeting, and Sunday night church services. I
had to do my homework, so could not go. While they were away, I
could do what I wanted.
When I started to work on a paper route, I had some money, so
I could buy my own girdles. But this presented a problem, how to
go into a store and get the right size and how to ask for one from
the clerk and not look suspicious. I decided on the one I wanted
and used a tape measure and the instructions from a Sears catalog
to guess the size. I went to the store and asked for one, the clerk
assumed that it was for my mother and if asked, I would say, sure.
It was too easy. I couldn't wait to try it on. It was too big. Nothing
is more useless than a too large girdle, it just falls off. But it could
be taken in by folding and stitching up one of the panels, it
worked, but looked gross and felt as bad. Next time I would get
the smallest size available. Now the problem was storage. Where
to hide it so that my step mother would not throw it away and get
me punished. Behind the books in the bookcase, behind the sink,
under chairs and inside the padding, under the mattress, inside
the crawl spaces, etc. As time went on, my step mother would
search my room and find my girdles, burn them, and punish me. I
would buy or steal new ones, hide them and continue to wear
them. This would be repeated over and over until that fateful
summer.
I still would try on my step mother's underwear while she was
away, but now I could wear what I wanted when I wanted. I
bought and tried wearing panty girdles, rubber girdles, briefs,
and all in ones. All were sexy and aroused me. I also accompanied
my step mother to the "Corset shop" when she bought her
underwear. This was the ultimate turn on, without actually doing
anything. Just to look at and imagine trying on each of these
items, like my step mother, was very thrilling and kept my
fantasies going for days. But soon she caught on and I spent this
time in the car, whenever she made a purchase. My fantasy was to
try the ultimate risk, go into a corset shop and actually try the
corsets and other corsetry on and buy the real high class girdles.
But I was too scared. The sales lady could tell my mother, laugh,
or throw me out.
The critical time came when my step sister was about to be
married, my step mother bought a couple of girdles and kept them
without wearing them. I could not resist, a new tight girdle was
there to try on, and I did. But in doing so it got dirty, and washing
it only made it worse. Now my step mother knew I was still
wearing her underwear. She decided to call in the shrink.
The shrink was a "Christian psychiatrist" but used the classic
Freudian logic. With my past rejection by my adopted parents,
rejection by another family that wanted to adopt me, and the
being sent away to various parochial and private schools there
was many hours of exploring useless memories, and blaming
everybody else in my life. The result of months of therapy was no
help and a large set of bills. This kid enjoyed wearing girdles and
no shrink could convince me that it was worth giving up. If I had
someone to have sex with, I would not need substitutes, but this
was not possible at my age, or in the morals of the day.
The doctor finally came up with an alternative cure that was to
use pain and suffering to make girdles something that reminded
me of pain instead of sexual pleasure. The solution was to make me
wear girdles all the time. This reverse psychology seemed to work
for most women, they were forced to wear them and were glad to
get them off. This would happen in the summer, when no one
would see me naked, and my underwear could be controlled..
But the next part was like my fantasies were coming true. My
step mother took me to buy the girdles I would wear, at the
"corset shop". I accompanied her into the room in the back of the
store, but instead of her putting on the girdles, I did. I was

embarrassed but my step mother did not let the sales girls see me
naked. They just passed the girdles to my step mother and she
gave them to me to try on. We bought a week's worth of girdles,
(8) in all, size extra small, and a dozen pairs of stockings (if I
wanted to wear them). I thought I had gone to heaven. The girdles
I chose were Playtex "Golden panty girdles". They were fabric
lined rubber and went down to mid thigh, they were waist line
girdles, with a zipper and a split nylon tricot crotch. They had
detachable garters, so I could wear nylons if I wanted. But in the
summer, the girdles were hot enough without stockings. These
girdles had a grid of small holes and a cloth lining to "ventilate
them" and an embossed pattern in the rubber that looked like
flowers. The crotch and inside leg panels were of tricot, which
eventually had runners like the nylon stockings. The split crotch
allowed me to pee, without taking the girdle off. It was unusual
wearing all this while peeing, it felt like peeing in ones pants.
But when I returned to my
room and felt like taking it off.
This would be harder than I
first thought. But I had made a
deal. I would wear the girdle
every day this summer, and then
if I still wanted to, I could wear
girdles around the house and
under my clothes any time I
wanted. There would be no
punishment, sneaking, stealing,
hiding, and guilt.
The first night was hell, the
girdle was torture, it chaffed, pinched, and was a general crushing
pain. Later, the sensitive areas soon callused up. The girdle was
the same as I was used to, but by the end of the day, I wanted to
take it off, long before bed, but I couldn't, my mom had to check
me before I went to bed. This was done with a simple pat on the
butt, but very revealing. The same thing happened in the morning
and at random times during the day. Also there was no other
underwear available. My step mother washed these girdles weekly
and she could tell when they were worn. My friends again had left
for summer camp, so this was another boring summer. Meanwhile
the girdles caused me to be constipated and have headaches often.
I still had the paper route, and again I rode around the
neighborhood alone most of the time. Part of the deal was to not
tell anybody about my situation. So some people thought I was stiff
from sports activities. At times I would play with the friends that
were not at camp, but they never seemed to guess I was wearing
this stuff.
Meanwhile the girdles continued to get on my nerves. When I,
in the past, chose to wear them they were a temporary pain. Now
after a few days, they really were getting to be a growing bother, a
slow torture. They were never really comfortable, and though I
was actually getting used to wearing them, I thought that I never
would make it all summer. As the days slowly went on I tried to
renegotiate the deal, stop this now and I will never wear a girdle
again. But the deal was for the whole summer and that was that.
She reminded me that I could wear a dress, skirt, and any other
clothes any time, while in the house, but that didn't really interest
me at this time. In a mirror, I looked like a girl that hadn't
developed busts yet. And now I thought I knew what it was like to
be a woman. I really didn't want to stay a girl too long. At one
time I thought it would be great to be a woman and get to wear all
these neat clothes. Now, I wasn't so sure.
The need to punish myself and a lack of unconditional love,

because of my background, was brought out by the therapy and
was shown to be part of the reason that I chose to be excited by
girdles instead of other lingerie etc. This treatment was also to
burn away the guilt and that need to fantasize about hurting
myself or being punished by others. Real pain stopped the need for
an imagined pain. And this summer would help stop this urge also.
This type of pain was like a slow, constant dripping instead of an
injury. The chaffing, the riding up, the rolling over, the extra
stress level, and the problems with constipation and headaches,
eventually passed and the constant pressure on the gut suppressed
my appetite and helped me lose some more weight.
After a month in girdles all day, every day from wake up to
bed time, I was used to wearing them, and I felt undressed without
them. But I learned to not have a longing for them, at least the
ones I was wearing. They were hot and sweaty, and showed wear.
The ones in the catalog and the ones in the stores still intrigued
me. This was the grass is greener syndrome. It would take longer
to get over this, it was the thrill of acquiring the next one, and the
thrill of trying on new types. Also the
pictures of women wearing girdles in the
catalogs and on the models were very
exciting to me. Was this a normal lust? My
fantasy was wearing the girdle, feeling it
hug me, and then I would look just like the
model.
The other side of the treatment was lots
of unconditional love, communication, and
being held by my step mother. I would not
have to do something good, or be
somebody else to be loved, also I didn't
have to be thin, very obedient, or be
anything but myself. And I didn't have to
prove my worth by doing anything special.
This was the real deliverance and an
alternative to all the self doubt and self image problems.
The summer dragged on and on. The fact that I was wearing
this stuff became less and less of an issue, and was almost ignored.
Only when a pinch of pain from the uncomfortable positioning of
the garments caused me to realize that I was wearing them. And as
the days kept going on, this became less of a problem. The fact
that I lost some weight, also helped lessen the pressure on me and
stopped the headaches and constipation problems. But the looser
girdles did move around more on my body.
The treatment seemed to be working by the third month. A
girdle was now, just another piece of underwear, and there was
nothing special about them. You can wear them whenever you
want, if you want to. Real love is better that lust, even if it is for a
step mother, and is not sexually oriented.
As the summer ended the I didn't have to wear girdles any
more. I could now wear girdles whenever I wanted. But I had
enough wisdom not to take any chances with exposure to others
outside the family. The fact that my wearing girdles was
permitted, at least by my family, also discouraged thinking
anything sexy about wearing girdles. Girdles still were more
uncomfortable than regular underwear, but I was used to them
and felt naked without one on. Only now there was no guilt and
there were no secrets, no high drama, no sneaking around, no
hiding, and lots of real love. I did wear a girdle, but the longing,
the fear, and most of the sexual the excitement was gone. The
summer of bondage had worked.
I knew I was okay, but also that some others would never
understand. I would confide in a few about my past, and then risk
their using this knowledge against me if our relationship changed.
Since I had no shame about my underwear and it was no one else's
business what I wore inside, except someone who would see me
undressed, I could care less what strangers thought.
The deliverance from my past hurts came later, when I, in
prayer, relived those painful memories. With the help of Jesus
Christ I walked through the events mentioned and refelt the hurts,
but this time they were permanently healed and I can talk about
it. I am no longer sensitive about them, and this document helps
prove it. You too can be healed by the power of Jesus Christ's love
for you.
There are two items that this story doesn't cover.
1. There is real guilt caused by hurting yourself and others. This
story does not say that this can be rationalized away.
2. You have a responsibility to not hurt other christians with your
liberty from false guilt. If they are not ready for this, do not flaunt
your knowledge and hurt them. If they think a thing is wrong and
you don't, do not do it in front of them. They will either condemn
you, or also do it (even though they think it is wrong) and feel
guilty.
BACK to Home Page
A new short story - very thought provoking - Dreams of the

Future.
Air Force Years - (War stories.)
































Girdles - a journey into fantasy

and back.
BACK to Home Page
This story is about FALSE GUILT

that can be caused by parents,
churches, or other people in power,
and the other problems that are
caused by this form of "Legalism". If
the Bible does not condemn
something, or the law from the Old
Testiment does not apply in this era
(like animal sacrifice etc.). Do not
burden your children with your own
"rituals, customs, dos and don'ts, and
preferences" by enforcing your rules
as if they are from GOD.
You ask: "What is wrong with wearing a girdle?" and that is the
point. Some people can have problems with ordinary things.
When I was eleven years old I found a box of old bras and girdles
in the storage room in the basement. I was overweight and knew
from the television advertisements that grown women used girdles
to make them look slimmer.
I asked my step mother if I could play with these. She said that
she didn't think that I could fit in them. The type of girdles my
step mother had stored away were the open bottom type, with
front, back and some with side panels, they must have been many
years old. They all had zippers on the side and some were high
waist styles with bones to keep them from rolling from the waist.
There was a variety of styles, mostly in good repair, but some had
holes, torn zipper hooks, and torn garters tabs. All were worn in
spots and some had lost their elastic power. I tried some of them
on and they did fit. They were tight and they did make me look
slightly slimmer and a lot less bulging in places.
When I moved around wearing one of the girdles, some tops
rolled over and the bottom with the garters rode up exposing my
butt and the garters poked me. This wouldn't be practical for
wearing under pants and would be very uncomfortable. How did
women wear these everyday without going crazy. The answer was

















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5/19/2010 girdles.

Girdles - a journey into fantasy

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This story is about FALSE GUILT

make them hate girdles, like a slow torture or punishment. But if

My childhood background was one of lost love and rejection. I

a baby, that was about my age heard of my situation. This couple

Having fun wearing girdles continued for several months that

to college and I went to Junior Hi.

store, but instead of her putting on the girdles, I did. I was

The need to punish myself and a lack of unconditional love,

A new short story - very thought provoking - Dreams of the

Air Force Years - (War stories.)

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Girdles - a journey into fantasy

BACK to Home Page

This story is about FALSE GUILT

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