the fact that this particular lacing bar was motorized made Leslie wonder if Miss Staylace were not really an expert corsetiere who had somehow found her way into the girl's school racket. It was quite possible that her name was not Miss Staylace for nothing!

"Leslie!" Marie said, interrupting his momentary reverie. "Do as you are told this very moment!" Her tone of voice was strongly suggestive of the wisdom of instant obedience.

Leslie grasped the lacing bar and Miss Staylace raised the bar enough so that he had to get up on his tiptoes in order to maintain contact with it and the floor. He knew that in a few minutes his arms would feel as though they were pulling from their sockets. But he also knew that they

actually wouldn't do so.

Miss Staylace quickly clasped the corset about Leslie's waist and lower chest, fastening the snaps and hooks with practiced technique. Even without the laces being drawn in, the corset felt snug about his middle. Then she grasped the laces in the back of the garment and began to tighten them slowly but inexorably until Leslie was certain that the breath of life would soon be forced out of his body.

"Enough, enough!" he gasped. thing is killing me!"

"This

"What nonsense, Miss Leslie!" Marie snapped, "If it were truly killing you, then you would have no breath left with which to complain, now would you?"

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The pressure of the corset on his aching sides also produced other curious side effects in Leslie besides incipient anoxia. For one thing, his masculine symbol was now being forced into renewing its attempts to burst the soft material of his modesty device in a frenzied quest for release.

Leslie wondered why the pressure of a tightly laced corset should have that peculiar effect upon him. He found it tiresome at best and humiliating at the worst.

His two ladies-in-waiting noticed the re-eminence of his captive flesh and made various humorous remarks about his salient difficulties. He could have cheerfully murdered the both of them, but he feared to let go of the lacing bar for fear that the pressures on his sides would increase. Just as he was deciding to take the chance and let go, Miss Staylace pushed the little switch on the wall and the bar moved a few inches upward.

"What are you doing?" gasped Leslie.

"Just hang tight and see," Miss Staylace replied.

Leslie did as he was told, wondering how long his fingers could retain their strength. Miss Staylace confronted him and began untying the ribbon bow she had earlier fashioned under the head of his

fettered symbol. The ribbons now dangled gaily down a good eighteen inches, and Miss Staylace took one ribbon in hand and gave the other to Marie, who laughed in delight at what was to come.

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