The Body Shaper Novels & Stories

As if my body has forgotten what to do with its own size. My knees spread wide, forearms braced on my thighs, phone hanging loose in one hand, and there I am in the glass: massive, inked, sweating, breathing too hard for a man sitting still. A body built for impact. A body that makes other men brace before I even reach them. A body women look at like it promises something primitive and uncomplicated. A body that I have spent years turning into proof that I am not easily owned by anything. And all of it means nothing.

"Can't I skip the physical next year?" "I'll just let Ken do your evaluation next year. Don't listen to that doctor love You are perfect. Listen people have different body shape love. Even if your shape is like a twig or as round as a circle it doesn't matter. It IS NORMAL. Don't let the media or other people taint your body image. As long as your healthy that is enough. Yes you loose weight but are you happy? That is the most important part. Tummy rolls are normal. I'll get sad If I can't pinch them anymore. Do you want me to get sad?"

I decide to be angry later and for now just take advantage of the chance to move around. I remove Moon's dress shirt and let it drop to the floor. I very carefully pull a pale blue tee over my head and step into a pair of white shorts. Minus socks, I slip on a pair of white deck shoes and take a minute to look in the full-length wall mirror. You can only describe how I look above the neck as face meets brick wall. I don't waste time examining what I can't change. Below the neck, I'm toned and have pale skin, large breasts, and long legs. I work at this body. Not for looks, but for taking care of business. I'm in shape, athletic, and like to think I can kick ass when needed.

She planned to get a real education about it tonight. She scooped up Layla’s risqué lingerie and slunk into the bathroom. She stripped and added a piece at a time, ignoring the pooch in her belly. Next week she really had to start working out again. The kimono hit mid thigh and adequately covered her jiggly ass. Five minutes after her thirty-seventh birthday her body had started to sag like an ugly old couch. Not that she’d ever in her life been a toned size two. Now is not the time to revisit your body issues. Think sexy, act sexy, be sexy.

She's always been really shy about her body. "Look at me baby." Macie looks at him. "You are gorgeous to me. I love every curve of your beautiful body. I do not want you to be ashamed of your body. Understood?" Caiden asks. Macie nods. "Yes." "Good. Now come over here and undress me." Caiden orders.

No matter how hard he tried to satisfy his sexual cravings through fantasies or watching p**n or being intimate with Beth, his mother was always lingering in the background waiting to pounce. It was her fault. His mother had the body of a model that she kept fit by teaching aerobics. She often strutted around the house in tight yoga pants that molded shamelessly to the contours of her shapely butt and the swell of her puffed out pussy. She wore tops without a bra that stretched firmly around her 36D-cup breasts with her hard nipples poking little dimples through the front.

"Such a cute little ass, Bobby." Her hands played with my butt for a moment while she continued to kiss and nibble at my shoulders and neck. I wasn't sure what to expect, but Shelly wasn't giving me any sort of traditional massage. She didn't rub my back so much as slide her hands upward and hold my shoulders down. As I mentioned, she was a tall young woman, with an athletic figure despite her large breasts. The rest of her had a naturally lean, well-toned appearance like those girls who play soccer or beach volleyball. It's a look I admired greatly and Shelly's hard, tight body covered mine easily with her knees outside my hips and swollen nipples teasing my sensitive flesh.

Then my eyes moved to the mannequin next to the wall and what I saw made me gape. I couldn't take my eyes away from the pieces worn on the mannequin. I stared in awe and I didn't know when I walked to it, pulled it off the body of the mannequin and wore it on mine. My body was shaped like a figure 8. Sexy and full in places that are needed. I stood in front of the mirror and I couldn't believe this was me. It was a tiny black piece that hugged my body tight and showcased my shape. The cloth was designed to only cover my stomach, and shoulder, but the rest of my body— Exposed sexily.

My voice turns out softer. Sexy tousled hair, eyes as stormy as a haboob in the hot desert; Red takes a small, nonchalant stride toward me. His chest—oh his chest is so naked, sinew lines of muscles and those damn six packs so well placed on its grand display. What a sight. I gulp again.

It covers the entire top, leaving my breasts and waist shapely, while the bottom is a pair of black pantyhose with scales on them that barely let you see the skin underneath, and now you can see my silver high heels. This corset opens at the front in little hooks, and when I take them off you can finally see my skin. I have clear, blemish-free skin, my breasts aren't big or small, they're medium-sized, my waist isn't that thin and my legs are thicker, I have what many people call a "guitar body". I'm not ashamed of it, after all, I make the most of my body, not that I go on diets, but I do a lot of exercise. My breasts are covered in shiny scales, as is the part of my waist that descends in