Ascent into Chastity - Part 3

Paris is a wonderful city to visit.

Of late I have been going almost once a week on business, and that might be a slight overdose on a good thing, as the nights in hotels, flights and trains have become an endless procession. Especially, if like me, you live near Cambridge and have to visit an office in London on the way.

Still Paris has its compensations.

*****

For some years now, I have visited an old dressmaker and corsetiere at her cramped workshop behind Sacre Coeur. Probably in her late sixties now, she is still immaculate and together with a couple of helpers, she has dressed the rich and famous of Paris for many years. Proof looked down from her walls in formal and not-so-formal photographs. Sadly not for too long now, as she has decided to retire in a few years. Luckily for me, she keeps putting off that evil day.

I was introduced to her originally, by one of my clients, an English actress who appears in films the world over, and hence needs my skills to minimise her taxes. As a present, she paid for the first work suit and corset, specially made for me.

'Bonjour, madam!' I never addressed her otherwise, although the actress had told me, that her real name was Marie Louise. No-one had ever used it. Not even the wife of a French President, who stared down from her pride of place, whilst wearing an elaborate ball gown specially created for her, by the dressmaker.

'Good morning!' She replied in her immaculate, if heavily accented English. 'You will like the dress. When you wear it to Ascot, I will want a photograph for my collection.' She disappeared into the workroom at the back and returned with my costume in a plastic dress cover. 'It's nearly finished.'

'It looks beautiful.' I could see through the cover, the dress and its matching short jacket, both in a very pale yellow, with some detailed and exquisite embroidery. The quality of her workmanship never seemed to drop. 'Do you want me to try it on?'

'Of course! Get undressed, please!' Sometimes, I suspected that she knew of my submissive nature, in that she was always ordering me. But then, the actress told me, that she is treated the same, despite being a lot more famous, if not infamous, than I am.

I once visited her in a suit that she hadn't made. She didn't actually say so, but I got the impression she was not amused, so as on all my visits now, I was dressed in one of the black suits, she had made for work. When I had removed the skirt and jacket and was standing there in just the matching overbust corset, she took them from me and gave a rigorous inspection. 'Did the hem come undone here?' She indicated stiches in a slightly different thread. 'Who did this?'

'Yes!' I'd caught a heel in the hem, whilst changing the skirt without taking some shoes off. Pure laziness! 'My partner did it!'

She smiled. 'Very neat for a man!' She then frowned at me. 'In the site of God, he's your husband. You will please call him that!' She was also a very good Catholic.

'I'll get one of my girls to repair it correctly.' She was almost possessive of her creations and didn't like the thought of them being violated. Especially, by male hands! She disappeared into the back room with the skirt, returning almost immediately. 'It won't take more than a few minutes.'

'Can you unlace me?' I knew she would be much quicker.

She moved behind me and I could hear her making disapproving noises under her breath. 'Who put this on? It's not what I'd call a good corsetiere's knot either!'

'I spent last night in the Lancaster, by myself!' Good hotel it may be, but they do not provide a maid service!

Quickly, she had taken the new corset and wrapped it around me, fixing the busk before starting to lace me tight. Within a minute after starting at the middle, followed by the top and the bottom, she had laced me tight. Or so I thought! 'How does it feel?'

'Fine!' I felt tighter than I had been before that morning. 'Tighter than the black one though!'

'There's still a couple of centimetres to go!' I gasped for breath a little, as she closed the corset. 'I've made it to fifty-one centimetres.'

I calculated and converted it back to just over twenty inches. 'I thought I had ordered it at my normal twenty-one!' I knew I had, but sometimes she made her own decisions.

'You can handle it!' She pulled again! 'You want to look the best!' I felt her tying the laces with a correct knot. 'And haven't you said that you want to be nineteen inches at fifty-seven! So I've started you towards that now!' Finally, she fastened my stockings to the suspenders.

It was too late to argue now. Royal Ascot was less than eight weeks away and it was either suffer for my figure or wear something I'd worn before. Vanity prevented the latter!

*****

'Walk up and down! I want to see if you can move properly.' There wasn't much space in the cramped workroom, but at least I could stride normally. 'You will notice, that I've made it with a longer waist and it is a few centimetres longer at the bottom. I can see you like it!'

She never left any space for disagreement. I now understood why it felt so tight, as my now stem waist was in fact much more constrained than usual. 'Will I be able to eat normally in this?' I doubted if I could!

'You're not at Royal Ascot to eat!' She seemed almost disgusted at my suggestion. 'You're there to be beautiful and on display. So that your husband can show what he's caught!' I didn't dare correct her about my ex-husband.

'Can I try the dress now?'

'I want to check the fit of the corset.' She ran her hands up and down, checking specifically that the top gave sufficient support to my breasts and created the cleavage she wanted. I had had little say in the matter, when we had discussed what I was to wear. It was Caroline, who had been with me, when I'd ordered the outfit, who had insisted that I bare more than I usually did. The corsetiere had probably gone further in that direction!

'Does it fit as you want it to?' I was following her whims. 'Now that I'm used to it, it's very comfortable.' I checked the fit myself. 'I like it a lot!'

'Good!' She smiled an appproval in return. 'Perhaps, I should have made it a centimetre smaller!' She looked me up and down. 'You could take it you know!' She turned and retrieved the dress from the cover.

*****

The dress was as expected a perfect fit, even if the halter neck and the hem were still to be finished. 'Can you hold the neck up, whilst I check the bust!' I looked down and was surprised at the effect. I must have had the quickest implant in history! 'You should show your lovely breasts more often. Just a couple of pins here and I'll get the top and neck right.

'How will the halter neck tie?'

I could see I'd said the wrong thing. 'Only cheap halters tie! I will cut and sew this to your exact size.' She added a last pin. 'Take your hands down now!' She indicated the mirror.

'Do you think that I look a bit tarty?' I could now see her immaculately cut neckline was showing more than I had expected.

'Try it with the jacket!' She held the short jacket and I put it on over the dress. The collar followed the line of the halter but did little to improve the modesty of the dress, as it did not fasten at all in the front. It just emphasised my now more than adequate cleavage, that she had miraculously conjured up from nowhere. 'That looks fabulous! You look a million dollars!' She was trying reassurance for the first time that morning. 'No-one would believe you're fifty-three!'

'Fifty-four in August!' I looked at myself again in the mirror. 'It's the grey hair that ages me!'

'Wear it longer and blonde!' Perhaps I might one day. But I'd been very short and grey for about twenty years now and it was exceedingly convenient. At Ascot I would be wearing a hat anyway. 'Hold still! I want to do the hem now!' She knelt beside me on the floor. 'Will you be wearing shoes this high?'

'Yes!' Three inches was usually the maximum I could manage.

'You never learn! Do you?' I had said the wrong thing again. 'In that box over there are a pair you might like! I chose them for you to go with the dress!' She'd done this before and they'd be expensive. But if they fitted, she would be very offended if I didn't buy them. And even more so, if the photographs from Ascot, showed they had not been worn!

*****

'How do they feel?' She was still kneeling on the floor. 'Walk up and down again!'

At least they fitted, but yellow strappy sandals with heels probably over four inches would not have been my choice. But they were also a perfect colour match for the dress. 'They're fine! I like the heels, as being laid back and quite wide, they seem to be very stable.'

'Good!' She beckoned me over. 'I could have got you some mules, without any straps, but you wouldn't manage. You weren't trained young enough!'

'That's true!' I had one three inch pair of mules and they were a nightmare. Not a shoe, I'd choose for somewhere like Ascot, where walking and standing were quite a part of the day. 'I'll take them!'

'Let me get this hem right!' I could see in the long mirror, that she was pinning it about two inches shorter than anything, she'd made for me before. There was also a split at my right thigh, that I hadn't asked for, that reached almost to the top of my stockings. 'How does that look?'

I resisted the urge to repeat my statement of before about being tarty and tried to be objective. 'Are you sure that is OK?' I thought of the bumps on my legs, that wouldn't be hidden, by the much lighter stockings I would be wearing. 'My legs aren't perfect, you know!'

'Did you bring the stockings, that I asked you to?'

'Yes! I did!' I reached for my handbag and extracted the packet with the new pair in a nude shade. 'Do you want me to change?'

She said nothing, but unstrapped my shoes to indicate her answer.

*****

'Can you stay for a coffee?' I was still dressed in the new dress and jacket. 'It'll only take about twenty minutes for Celeste to finish the hem and neck. You can then try it on again! It'll save a visit!'

'That sounds like a good idea!' I looked at my watch knowing that I had no appointment until two-thirty. 'I'm in no hurry! I've got two hours to get to the Place de l'Opera!'

'Would you like a dressing gown?' She had unzipped the dress and was lifting the halter carefully back over my head. 'I don't think I'm expecting any visitors. But you never know?'

'I'll just sit on the edge!' I indicated a comfortable chair full of part made clothes and bolts of expensive cloth. 'I'll just put my jacket over my lap to keep decent!' As I picked up the jacket, I noticed half-hidden under a green silk dress, was a piece of stainless steel chain, linked to what looked like a circular band. Digging deeper, my suspicions had been proved right and I retrieved a classical chastity belt. 'What's this?' I had decided to play the innocent.

'La ceinture de chasteté!' She had gone bright red. 'It's been brought in by a client. He wants to make sure that his mistress' corset is the right size. He also wants to insist that she saves her body for him.'

'Sounds very medieval!' I didn't let her know of my thoughts and experiences. But my heart was racing as I actually held the stainless steel plates, bands and chains in my hands. 'Are these things comfortable?'

'I myself have never worn one! But I've come across various devices over the years and lots of locked corsets. Although, they're not so common these days. Perhaps, those who lace are willing these days.' She came across and took the belt from me. 'I think it would fit you, if you want to find out how comfortable it is. It was made to go over a fifty-two centimetre corset.'

'Would the client mind? He doesn't sound he's a man who should be messed around with!' I was beginning to get nervous, as she motioned me to stand up. 'Is this a good idea?'

'Just stand there and I'll fit it around you!' I meekly did as I was bid, and she sprung the belt and fitted it around, so that the guard at the front covered and hid me completely. Then she carefully placed my labia in the slot, before she pulled it all up, closed the waist-band and turned the key. 'That was easy! Wear it for an hour or so!' She then produced another piece of steel from under the clothes on the chair. 'I'll put this on too!'

I drew back. 'What's that?' I seen one on Anita's belt.

She held it up for me to see. 'This is called a secondary shield. Absolutely prevents any entry or stimulation of any sort.' She bent down and locked it to the front of the belt, completely enclosing what little I could see of my sex. 'You're all protected now! No-one could do anything to you without this key!' She put it in her handbag and smiled.

*****

'So how does everything feel?' Ideas of just a coffee had been put aside and the dressmaker had suggested we take a snack lunch at a cafe a hundred or so metres away. Needless to say, she'd thought it a good idea to wear the new corset and the borrowed belt under my black suit. 'You don't look too uncomfortable.'

'Do you want me to start from the top or the bottom?'

'How about starting with the shoes?' The dressmaker indicated the menu. 'Have you decided what you want yet?' She made her choice. 'The sole is very good here! It'll slide down! Shall we make that two?' And for me too, it seemed. 'A bottle of the house white?'

I didn't have the strength for an argument. 'That'll do fine!' I would at least get to see if I could eat anything in the new corset.

The waiter interrupted me, as I was just about to give a report on my condition and it was only when I'd had a sip of the very good Sancerre, that I felt I could continue. 'Do you still want me to start with the shoes?'

'Yes! They look lovely and suit you're legs well.'

'And they are comfortable.' I truly meant it, although I'd rarely been quite as high in my life. 'Can I take the corset next?'

'Of course! It doesn't quite go with the jacket though!'

'I was going to say that, as I don't normally bare as much in a suit like this!' To be frank my chest felt positively naked! I hoped that the weather at Ascot would be hot! 'It matches the shoes well, though!'

'It's meant too! But does the corset have the right balance of tightness, shape and comfort?'

'If I said yes, I'd be lying!' It was extremely tight, unforgiving and just about bareable. 'If I said no, you'd tell me that I have to suffer for my beauty.'

'Good!' She was obviously pleased that she felt she had got the balance right. 'Wear it for a couple of days before Royal Ascot, so that your body gets used to it!'

'But I always do!'

She put her hand across to reassure me. 'I know you do! I'm honoured to be able to make clothes for you, as you really do care for them properly.' Praise indeed! 'Tell me about the belt. I'm fascinated.'

'I think I'll leave that until we get back!'

*****

She was still asking questions about the belt, when we arrived back in the workshop, to find the dress finished and laid out on the chair where I'd sat. 'Can I try it on over the belt?'

'Yes! Be careful, as it might not fit!' She unzipped it, whilst I removed the suit. 'Bend your head over!' I did and she slipped the dress over me and down, before zipping it up carefully.

I looked in the mirror and I saw someone I'd never seen before. Was it me? I'd never been that stunning, not even in my twenties. Even the belt was almost invisible, as she'd made the dress a centimetre or so bigger than the corset, ostensibly so that it wouldn't ride up, by clinging to the corset. The space was just sufficient to ensure secrecy. 'Give me the jacket and I'll go and see the client like this! He won't mind, as he's a rock star!'

I was totally surprised at her reply. 'Why not? Just get back here before five-thirty, as I have to go home.' She handed me the jacket. 'And remember, I have the keys.'

*****

'How did it go?' She was still waiting, as I arrived about ten minutes after her deadline. 'I should have gone!'

'I'm sorry!' I'd taken a taxi, as I'd found walking fast in my new shoes an impossibility. 'He has got terrible tax problems and then the taxi got stuck in traffic.'

'Don't worry! I really don't have to go until six, but I know you're always a few minutes late.' She indicated my clothes on the chair. 'While I make some coffee, you get changed.' She took my new jacket and helped me with the zip before going into the other room to get the coffee

'Can you unlock me?' I called after her slightly desperately, as I'd been in the belt for nearly six hours now and if nothing else, I needed to go to the toilet.

She showed no hurry and returned a minute later with two cups of black coffee. 'Would you like any milk?'

'No! Thanks.' I was standing there in just the belt and corset, having shed the dress, stockings and shoes. 'Are you going to unlock me? I need the loo!'

'In time!' I hopes that she was teasing me. 'Have you got your credit card first?'

*****

'I feel a lot better now!' We were finishing the coffee and I was now dressed as I had originally arrived, with my expensive purchases in a carrier. 'At least I've got plenty of time before I leave Paris on the eight forty-three. What a day?'

'I enjoyed it too! But then I'm a vicarious person. I never thought you'd manage to wear that belt, as long as you did!' She added a further thought. 'At least you know you can eat in the new corset and that you can wear that long enough for the races!'

'True!' Although, last year Ascot with Charles and Caroline had started with a champagne breakfast and had ended with dancing in a London club. 'The outfit impressed the rock star, too!'

'Would I know him?'

'Sorry! But I doubt it!' She might have done, but I don't think he would have want his problems broadcast all over Paris. And possibly wider still! 'I got the business though. All down to you and your skills!'

'Thank you!' She was getting impatient. 'Please tell me about the belt?'

Perhaps, now I could come clean. 'It's not the first I've seen you know! A friend of mine has been permanently locked by her husband. She's told me in detail what it's like to be locked and unable to get any relief.'

'It is not as uncommon as you think!' She obviously knew more too! 'The man, who made the belt you wore, sells at least a hundred every year. At least two-thirds for men though, he tells me!'

'I couldn't imagine my husband in one!' We both laughed. At least I'd used the correct word again.

'Did the experience, match your friend's description?'

'I found it rather comfortable really! No itch and just the chains sticking into my bottom kept telling me it was there!' From choice, I'd have thought that Anita's pattern would be best, although I did have a few reservations about cleanliness. 'It was so strange though to reach down and find nothing there except for cold and unfriendly steel. You don't realise how often you touch yourself.'

'Do you want to wear one again?' She was very serious as she spoke.

I thought for a long time. 'Yes! But, I wouldn't want to be permanently locked. I do not have my friend's inner strength. It would be a tool to expand my enjoyment of relationships.'

'With whom?'

'My husband, you, clients.' A wicked thought occurred. 'I could have a totally safe affair. That could be fun!'

'Perhaps with the rock star?' She smiled at the thought.

'No!' I laughed. I didn't want to get involved with someone, who'd blown most of his money up his nose. Except of course, professionally. 'He's not my type!'

'So would you like me to arrange to have a belt made for you?' She paused. 'It would take about two weeks to complete. I have all your measurements, so I'll get it made for one of your normal corsets. You would of course want the de-luxe version with all of the accessories. He can also make the waist-band narrower, as it's to go over a corset.'

I didn't need to answer any of her questions at all.

'When are you next in Paris?'

'Two weeks on Thursday!' My answers were getting shorter, as I realised what I'd done.

'It'll be waiting for you here!'

[ Story continues in part 4 ]
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Page last updated 01-Jun-13 by: Altairboy@aol.com