I was a 14 year old boy back in the late seventies when I first wore my mother’s all-in-one girdle to school. I’d tried her control underwear on before, but only for short periods and never outside. That day, just before I was about to leave for school, the urge just swept over me. I ran upstairs, tiptoed into my parent’s bedroom, took her all-in-one girdle from the back of her underwear drawer, went into the bathroom and quickly took off my school uniform. My heart was racing nineteen to the dozen as I stepped into it, pulled it up, sucked in my belly, fastened the hooks up the front and finally pulled up the zip. Before I could chicken out, I put my shirt on, watching myself in disbelief in the mirror as the bra cups disappeared as I fastened the buttons, then I stepped into my trousers and pulled them up, watching with a mix of elation and horror as the legs of the girdle disappeared. I tucked my shirt in, put on my pullover and, with a struggle, bent over to put on my shoes just as my mother shouted to me to hurry up. I could just faintly see a slight puckering on my chest caused by the bra cups, and it was only then I started to panic about whether or not the bra straps would be visible. But it was too late to take if off again. I put on my coat, “ran” (as best I could!) down the stairs, picked up my bag and left. I think I was in a state of shock as I walked along the street, feeling the corselette gripping my thighs, holding in my backside and belly and the straps digging into my shoulders. Then the fear kicked in – would anyone notice the bra straps, the wrinkling caused by the bra cups or the rings around my thighs when I sat down? I was in a state of terror when I finally got to school though, thankfully, no-one noticed any of what I’d convinced myself were obvious tell-tale signs. It was nearly ten hours later before I was able to take it off again! By the middle of the day, I’d really come to appreciate the slogan used on one of the TV adverts of the time – “my girdle is killing me!”