“There! Time to finish dressing.”
Taking my purse, the doctor looped its strap over my right shoulder then fastened the jacket’s epaulet to hold it in place. I had once more become a demurely although strangely clad young woman. Knowing it was unavoidable, I turned and held out my cuffed wrists, then submitted quietly when she crossed them against the back of my waist and slipped substantial locks through their inner rings, fastening my wrists on opposite sides of my body. She attached a long, thick, black leather strap to the front staple with a separate lock and tugged on it twice to ensure full closure.
Although I was now almost fully-covered, there were very obvious, jarring notes to my ensemble. The obviously thick, ankle length, rubber skirt and matching, restricting jacket were in
