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She looked around the room. "There's an open spot," she said, and began leading me further into the room. I followed, too frightened to ask.She brought me to a small table, about three feet off the ground, with a padded surface. Rings were set at several points around the perimeter of the table, each connected to a short chain and cuff. "This will do," Cristina said. "Now stand here and lean onto the table," she ordered. I did as she asked, standing at the edge of the table and leaning my body over it until most of my weight was on my stomach and breasts. I felt the handcuffs being taken off my wrists. Then my mistress came around in front of me and chained my wrists to the far corners of the table. A shudder went through my body as I felt the cold steel lock in place about my wrists. Then she was behind me. I felt my legs pulled widely apart and my ankles cuffed tightly to the two rear table legs. I was unable to close my legs. I tried to rise up from the table but was prevented by. There are three men in there and they're busy right now trying to empty the electrical section on the top floor, but I don't think this is all they have in mind." Right." said the cop slowly. "And you were in there why?" I work there." So I suppose, you do all your shopping after the store closes?" I, er, no. I mean, well sometimes, it's just that this time, I wasn't just shopping for me." No I can see that. Perhaps you should have remembered to take the label off the dress next time you want to "buy" it." But officer. I did pay for this." Yeeeeees." he drawled. "I suspect you probably did. Would that have been with Monopoly money, or did you just leave an IOU?" Credit card." Uh-huh? And whose was it." Mine! Denise, I mean Den-Den-Denise Robson."There it was again. Somehow, he just couldn't say his own name. Why? What was happening?And that wasn't the worst of it either. Any check would reveal a Mr. D Robson had used his credit card, but not a Miss D. Robson. This might take some.
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