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by the way.”
    “Mine too,” said Ellen. “I spent a few hard shopping days trying to find the exact outfit to match Gwen’s. It wasn’t easy. When Willie wrote those stories, women’s clothes were a lot different. It’s too bad they didn’t have spandex back then though. I think he would have loved that stuff. Sorry, Katy, I didn’t mean to get off track. Go ahead.”
    “So, I got dressed in the whole Gwen outfit, or as close as I could get to the original drawing: the white, long sleeved, cotton blouse, open to the fourth button, the hair tied up with a ribbon, a tight pencil skirt that came half way up my thighs, the smoky black hose with the seam up the back and, of course, the extra high heels. The underwear was the best part. A few days before, while shopping in the city, I had picked out a really wonderful, lace-trimmed demi-bra, sort of like a Wonder Bra, that pushed my tits up and together, making yummy cleavage. It just sort of screamed “tie me up in this”, so I had to wear it for the occasion.” She stopped and glanced at Frank, who was grinning broadly.
    “Don’t mind him, Katy,” Ellen said. “Mention bras and Frank gets a hard on it’s sort of his top fetish. Go on.”
    “Well, finally, not wanting to miss any part of the fun, I dragged up an old mirror from the tack room and leaned it against one wall at an angle so that I could see myself once I was in the proper position. The skylights in the roof let in a lot of daylight, so I decided not to turn on the loft lights because it might attract attention if my folks got home before I was finished. I wanted the time to be mine and mine alone.”
    “I know the feeling,” Ellen said.
    “Me too,” added Frank, grinning. “Did you wear the same kind of bloomers…ah, knickers, I mean?”
    “Dirty old man,” Ellen interjected, lightly whacking Frank on the shoulder. “Let her tell her story, Frank. You can get lingerie details later.”
    “The panties,” Katy continued, “were vintage Willie, but tighter, cut higher on the sides and not frilly. I hate frilly stuff, so that was a bit of a compromise with the original look. The white lace garter belt was a necessity because I had not been able to find panties with garters on them, so again, I sort of compromised with the original drawings, but from what I could see in the mirror, it looked great. The last item that I took was a Polaroid camera that had the wireless remote accessory and of course, a tripod.”
    “Wireless remote?” asked Ellen. “I didn’t know they made such a thing. How did that work?”
    “It was the gift from Polaroid to people who wanted private photos of themselves and didn’t want to send film to be processed. It only worked on special camera models and it had a wireless, hand held remote button that fired the camera and flash, ejected the finished photo and reset it for the next picture. They promoted it as being suitable for nature photos and such, but I think a lot of sales went to people like me. So you could take eight photos without having to reset or reload. It wasn’t cheap, but it sure was neat.”
    “Wow,” said Frank. “I guess we missed that one.”
    “So, anyway,” Patty continued once again, “I set up the tripod and camera so that when I was all ready, I could shoot a few shots for myself. I tucked the remote into the waist band of the panties and garter belt, making sure that it wouldn’t fall out and that I could reach it before I set the final wrist bonds.
    “All of this I had brought in my luggage when I went for a visit, hoping for this sort of opportunity. I had plenty of rope, a sharp, fixed blade hunting knife, good gagging materials and two pair of regular hand cuffs, which in the end, thank God, I decided not to use. If I had, I might still be up in that loft. I also had a good supply of chain, some small locks with combinations, not keys, and four or five steel chain dog collars, the kind with the welded rings at the ends.