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Jackson Edward Carstairs walked over to the best-looking motel around and checked right in. They took his plastic deferentially and gave him the room at the end of the corridor that he requested. And the one next door, for his "friend" who'd never arrive; I wanted privacy. They also directed him to the restaurant, where he sat down to his first decent meal—not great, of course, but acceptable—since that dinner in Rockville two days before when he was somebody else.By the time I got back to the room I was feeling expansive. It was in that mood that I called Lisa."Jackie, I'm so glad!" she said as she picked up. "Darling, are you still OK?" It was the first time she'd ever called me "darling." I'm good, Lee," I said easily. I had to be careful, Ashley or his people were still listening and I couldn't overdo it. Not yet. "I can't say much else right now, but I'm good. And I love you." Me, too, Jack," she said. "But I'm still worried about you."Lee had a level head, it was one of her. She set down a footstool so that I could climb up onto the slab despite my encumbering skirts and restrictive undergarments.I approached the platform as if it were a gallows, and climbed up, assisted by the ever-efficient Miss Swain. Once I had my bottom seated on the hard surface, her hands on my shoulders pushed me backwards, my breasts slipping completely free from the containment of my garments as I descended.As soon as I was in a prone position, she quickly cinched a leather strap around my waist, securing me to the table. Whispered stories I'd heard from the household staff about the unfortunate Miss Billingsley flashed through my mind, and I began to struggle as Miss Swain secured my ankles in some kind of harness that left me splayed grotesquely. I could feel my face flush. My skirts were in total disarray, and my ankles were now plainly visible below the hem of my gown. But I could not reach down to cover them. Nor could I seem to stop the spill of flesh from the top of my.
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