it at a School Surplus Sale. As soon

as I saw that the heavy steel framework was in good shape but the seat was missing, well, the possibilities came to mind almost at once!"

And what possibilities! Being tied into this forced me into that back-arching, breast-thrusting, buttstrutting pose that seemed to be the West trademark. And when the chair was raised onto a platform, and a cardoard tube was fastened behind it to make it look like Miko and Ushi were raising me on a pivotted pole, the effect was unforgettable!

"Yeah, I've worked with and

for some people whose names you might recognize," Eric said after we'd finished this set-up and were preparing the next one, "But you won't hear them from me. I have two paramount rules for my work: Do the best job you can; And Don't remember any names. The way I see it, people who do business with me should expect quality for their money and complete privacy. That's why I never tell anyone the names of the publishers, writers, models, or even the printers! The fact is," He admitted sheepishly,

"I don't remember most of them myself. But even if I did," He got that look of odd dedication that I had seen on his face so often before, "I don't think I could ever bring myself to name any names or cause anyone any embarassment. I mean, this here is

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more than my Life; It's my Art. And

if a person can't be true to his Art, then he isn't an Artist to begin with. Hold the head a little higher, Dear."

It was hard not to hold my head high, what with that collar around my neck. And the leather straps that criss-crossed my body, holding my legs half-bent, my arms pinioned with my fists jammed into my armpits (and secured there by the tight leather straps) And the funny fur antlers on top of my head. The rubber ball, decorated like a Christmas Tree Ornament, was jammed tightly into my mouth, keeping me from speaking. But the bells all over those tight leather straps that were my only clothing made me far from silent!

Now Miko and Ushi came in, dressed in abbreviated Elves' outfits, carrying small riding crops, and as they chased me, hobbling as best I could, around the room, swatting my breasts and bottom, Eric took picture after picture, cheering us on and complimenting

me on my "bounce!"

Labor Day came next, to commemorate September. But this was hardly a celebration! I was dressed in a blackand white striped body shirt, tight enough to outline every curve of my voluptuous feminine form, matching leggings, heavy, high-button shoes with six-inch heels, and a set of leg-irons, with a mock-up of a ball and chain trailing behind me! A collar

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