"Forgive my impertinence, Omega Cadogan, but would you lift your breasts for me?" I ignored my blush and raised my hands to my chest, lifting the heft of my breasts and trying not to imagine what Ronson would say about this situation. "Yes. I see. We need support, not constraint." Miss Pettyfer flicked her measuring tape and squared her shoulders. "Hold that position, please. We have a few more measurements to take."
Having fitted and sewn my own corset, this interaction is so familiar.
