Justine

"No, stay. I think you can help us a lot, as a consultant. Your psych background, your own personal experiences----it must have been awful!----we can use you, I'm sure. And, your identity is safe with me; and my partners. And the salary is good." She had a warm smile. "We take care of our own, believe me."

So Justine had a new career----maybe. Her consulting job was

legitimate; she sat in on the sessions designing new product lines of vibrators, sexually enhancing ointments and lubricants, other sex toys, and of course, every variety of bondage and discipline gear; harnesses, whips, paddles, nipple clips----everything.

Merle had explained; "You are the voice of the first time consumer , the curious novice, OK? We want our products to be non threatening--at first. What turned you on, when and how? That's what we need, we're all hardened bondage freaks here."

Merle was about thirty four, Justine estimated, a strawberry blonde, not too tall, with a rosy complexion and a not yet plump figure----think Renior---- and a sweet face, which belied her dry wit and intelligence.. She was a lesbian; she made that clear to Justine even as they began their friendship in the next few weeks. But when it came to the company, she was all business. Soon she hinted, then suggested, that Justine try out some of the new----and old products. "Your gut reaction, that's what we would like."

Justine had accepted the offer; she was still trying to come to grips with her attraction--repulsion feelings about the whole bondage scene;

surely this would be a safe kind of way to get over the trauma of that Berkeley classroom! But she set some limits, to which Merle agreed: no dildos, and, please, no handcuffs! at least not for now!

So, her life was quiet, a bit lonely; Amy was the only person from her past who had her phone number, her new name. They would call each other from time to time, comparing notes; Amy returned only once to Uncle Hitoro.---- "Never again!" she told Justine--and had left home and was now living with a caucasion pre-med student, Leo. And life was good. They sometimes mused over the eerie parallels of their first

bondage sessions. Justine hadn't told Amy about her new job.

Her new job. Her relationshop with Merle was getting closer; though there was no overt intimacy, she sensed the older woman's caring. Merle shared her uneven, even dramatic life with Justine, unbidden. Her disastrous marriage, her coming out as a lesbian, the career changes, the traumas---- this sweet faced business lady had seen it all. And as they deepened their friendship: little theater nights together, some obscure but very good restaurants, an overnight trip to Mount St. Helens, just a few miles north in Washington; Justine warmed to the contact. But she still needed her privacy, her slow recovery.

A few months later Merle suggested that Justine start modelling some of the merchandise for her on line catalogue, "You've got a wonderful body, which of course you know,if I may say so: a really sexy picture is worth, like they say, a thousand words----in our case, a thousand orders. We would never show your face; there's no chance of the media parasites catching up with you. And there's a bonus; modeling fees. Think it over."

Justine--Joanne agreed. Leery at first, she soon warmed to the project: Waldo, the harnessmaker and she hit it off from the start as he measured her for the intricate leather harnesses and restraints she was to model. He was gay; otherwise Justine would have never consented to his skillful intimate hands on her naked body.

The leather gear, the cuffs, the corsets, the straps, were enticing; Justine had tried on a few, and felt very much at home in the intricate buckles and belts. She squirmed as he tightened the strap that bisected her vaginal lips. That old quiver, that old arousal was returnuing. "Oh! Ooh~! Maybe just a bit more--snug. Yess!"~ Waldo grinned as he pu8lled the strap even tighter.

*A few days later, nude under the bright studio lights, she worked with Waldo and the woman--Christine-- who was harnessing her and her camera man. "Don't show my face; remember!" she said, as Christine tightened and buckled the provocative harness.

*

"So" she told herself, writhing sensuousy in the tight leather harness----tight, but, somehow, embracing, comforting------"So 'she said to herself again . wriggling just a bit against the broad strap between her thighs, feeling for the second time in months the subtle deep pelvic warmth, the beginning wetness, "life goes on."

During the demading photo session, squirming under the hot lights, sweating against her leather harness, Justine began to feel some of the same urges that she had so vehemently suppressed the last few months.

As Christine unbuckled her straps, she said, almost shyly: "Waldo, Christine. We might try that corset now, the one with the----you know,

the fancy cuffs. And the ankle shackles, too." later, as they tightened the corset, buckled her into the cuffs and upper arm straps, the bondage stringent, fetishist, Justine felt strangely----serene.

One pose, one set of cuffs and retraints, another corset, laced tight... led to another, and another. In the next two hours Justine had posed for the bulk of the pictorials for the new catalog. And was enjoying it, swaying in her cuffs and restraints. including a severe single glove.. Even as it tugged her elbows together, painfully so, she gave into the absolute helpness the device gave her, and squirmed seductively.

*

At the rear of the studio, Merle was exultant. The luscious absolutely perfect bondage model she had hoped to find ever since Justine had walked in for that first interview! At last she was ready for the corset, the cuffs, chains and shac kles--once again *

THE END, FOR NOW. JUSTINE WILL RETURN.