Archive-name: Bondage/njlist16.txt
Archive-author: Nurse Jones
Archive-title: The List - 16 of 20


From Nurse Jones,

     Starting off with a note from the present.

     In case you were in suspense from reading my last post (which was
written while I was still lurking), and even if you weren't, I think
my pubic hair's going to grow back. I can't mix drinks for Clarence
Thomas yet, but I'm almost sure I'm on the road to complete recovery.
Whew.
     That probably isn't the report you were looking for first thing
this morning, but I've been looking for it for some time now. It's
been a gradual recovery, and it's still little more than peach fuzz,
but I think the verdict is definite.
     Which reminds me, I found the wax. I'm trying to decide if this
is a cruel thing to do to Jay. We're like two ships passing in the
night, Jay and I. Mine is starting to grow back, his on the way out.
Ha. I told him to let his grow back yesterday (he's been keeping it
shaved on my "orders" for some time now.) Little does he know what's
going to happen when it's long enough for the wax to grab hold. So I
have a few days to decide whether to do it or have him go back to
shaving.
     I got a lovely note from ROo a while back. She went to the DC-ASB
party and was a major hit. She got me thinking about the Halloween
party we went to last week. I was going to take the easy solution to
costumery and go as a nurse (Nurse Jones, in fact, although no one
there would have known that). Jay had other plans. He wanted me to go
as a TV character (that's TELEVISION, Wyzyrd). Elvira, Queen of the
Night. You MUST have seen her. She's wonderful. Not exactly Oscar
material, but she has a good attitude. I had the wig, if not the hair.
     MAJOR DIVERSION! The DRESS! I never told you about the DRESS! Jay
got it made for me with measurements taken with my corset on. The very
week I was back from S.F. He got this seamstress to come by the house
and measure me WITH THE CORSET ON! This was big time weirdness for me.
In my own house. I mean she was 60 if she was a day, and clearly
didn't think much of anyone who would wear a corset. She asked me if I
was wearing a foundation garment. Yes. I will be wearing it with the
dress, too. She sighs as though she just doesn't know what the world
is coming to.
     She doesn't.
     Jay and I had argued about this dress. He wanted it Just Like the
one this Elvira character wears: plunging neckline. Black velvet. He
had even located a bra that used more than one engineering principle
to avoid showing structural, ah, members. And he wanted me to wear it
in public. Totally sleazy. I wouldn't go for it. I mean, I don't mind
sleazy: sex is supposed to be dirty, if it's done right, but just at
home.
     We went 'round and 'round, Jay and I. I (heh, heh) came out on
top. With a compromise (see under corset, above). The neckline is
high, like those chinese dresses, chamsongs, I think they are called.
Zip up the back, long sleeves, hemline to the floor. I would only let
her put a slit in it up to the knee. Jay wanted it up to mid-thigh.
But she made it so the slit can be extended. More sighs.
     It is TIGHT. It was tight when she fitted it, and I have gained
quite a bit of the old avoirdupois back since then. (I lost a lot
while traveling). I'm up to 116, which is a little heavy for me, but
Jay thinks it's in the right places. But I mean this dress is tight!
Right down to the knees. I can barely walk in it. Running is totally
out of the question. It was practically like the good old days. So I
went as what's-her-name from the Adams Family. With fake fangs.
     Jay just wanted the dress made. He wasn't thinking Halloween. I
was thinking maybe the opera on a very dark night IF he bought me
something expensive (and long) to drape over it.
     We were both thinking about coming home after. Turns out it was
after Halloween.
     He was the wolfman in a rubber mask, and I had him on a leash.
And I brought handcuffs just for show-n-tell. The people at the party
were straight, totally, with one possible (certain, now) exception.
     In fact, as I told ROo, I made a complete ass of myself. Big
mouth. Almost all were very conservative. There was a couple there
that I thought were dressed as Ozzie and Harriet and despite the
corset I'm practically doubled over pointing and laughing so hard my
fangs fall out. Turns out they were not amused. Nor were they wearing
costumes, just their normal everyday garb.
     Oops.
     So there we were, wondering how the hell we were going to get out
of there gracefully in time to have some fun. We found the teenage
mutant ninja host and his superheroine wonder-hostess and were about
to make our excuses when (would you believe it) one thing leads to
another and they jokingly (I thought) ask if they can borrow the
collar and leash and I ask if they have a dog or would they like the
handcuffs too, which I produce voila from my bag. And they look at
each other and she turns absolutely tomato red and has the sudden urge
to pass hors d'oeuvres and circulate.
     So I decide for the both of us that maybe we should give this
party a chance to get interesting. It didn't. We left an hour later,
but I take the hostess aside in all the noise and confusion and I'm
feeling pretty good so I try to give her the handcuffs and she turns
red again and says Oh, we were just kidding, really. And I say Oh go
on, live a little, and take her hand and put them in it and she TAKES
them, holds them out of sight, and asks me if I had a good time,
looking around with elaborate nonchalance like I had just sold her
drugs or something. Ha! Southerners are as bad as midwesterners.
     So I smile and tell her to call if she wants to know where in her
house I hid the key. She looks at me and turns red again and I can
tell she is having second thoughts so I tell her to think about it and
we really do have to leave now and it was a wonderful party.
     The next day we get a call from her husband, and Jay answers:
they found a set of handcuffs that they think belong to me and they
wanted to check before they returned them and by the way, was there a
key with them, if so it's lost. Uh huh.
     So Jay tells them where it is and we STILL haven't got the cuffs
back. I hope they are having fun. I don't want 'em back. They're
uncomfortable.
     The big question is did they call before or after? What would I
have done, first time out? Tough decision. After would have been
better, before safer.
     Anyway, ROo got me thinking. When I arrived at that party
corseted in that dress, I was mortified. That's her name, Morticia.
Adams. Anyway, I was mortified at first. The guys were all looking at
me through their eye holes. It was a thrill, embarrassing, and I felt
very sexy. Especially with the Wolfman there to protect me. But I got
to thinking about that when ROo e- mailed me her tale, and I realized
that Jay and I are so private that we couldn't even discuss the topic
with kindred spirits under the very best of circumstances. Too mid-
western. You just don't talk about that to other people, at least not
when they're in the room. E-mail's OK, that doesn't count, they aren't
in the room. Obviously.
     Anyway, I thought about how I would feel if I were in Roo's
stiletto's at that party. Michael was there, I understand. I'd feel
safe around him, I think. Moon Knight would take some getting used to,
if he's anything like his posts.
     I just don't know. I feel weird just wearing that corset in
public. This party is only the second time I've done that, and I was
nearly nonfunctional from embarrassment until I became nonfunctional
from screwdrivers. It was just a costume party for crissakes. What if
I had been at the DC-ASBash?
     I just couldn't...

     Another piece of not-quite-news. My supervisor, The Blob, may
(rumor has it) be getting a lateral promotion. Pray for us now and in
the hour of our need. She's been there since before she died, the
change would do her good.

     I've been working on some important tricks, hypnosis-wise. I've
worked out some key phrases that with post-hypnotic suggestion, help
speed up the induction of trances. I spent a lot of time in the
beginning just getting him into a deep trance before we discovered
this shortcut. If I were to start over again, I would concentrate on
developing this shortcut first.
     And I can induce amnesia about the session, too. There are a
number of things I need to try out. Most important: his voice. This is
hard for me to tell about. While in the deepest trance I can induce, I
actually had him up, eyes open, and walking around. The books said
getting him to do that while in a trance would take a lot of work, and
it did, but it's crucial to the plan. And it was a big shock for me.
     During that session I had told him that every time I asked him to
speak his voice would gradually become higher and more feminine, and
it did. I began to feel a little nervous at that, for some reason. I
don't like people changing on me, even though I may be the cause of
the change. I stuck him with a rich, low contralto rather than a
falsetto. But it was still eerie. I'm not sure if I should be grossed
out or not.
     I want to back off. I'm scared. Jay is really trying to persuade
me to go on. I'll write about something else for a while.

     When J wasn't home last week I tried out, on myself, some of the
makeup tricks I would need to use on him. I erased my eyebrows with a
blemish stick and covered them with latex from the costume and novelty
shop. Makeup over that, and I had no eyebrows. I could sketch in
whatever I wanted with eyeliner. Jay's eyebrows are coarser than mine.
Maybe I should try it on him while he's under. And the padded hips. I
packed cotton under panty hose until my own hips were seven or eight
inches bigger. It came out all lumpy and took a lot of adjusting and
four more pairs of pantyhose before it looked like I had oversized but
smooth, natural-looking hips. Actually, I kind of liked seeing what I
would look like with 42 inch hips. I don't know why, but it made me
feel kind of sexy.
     This is weird stuff. I need feedback from someone.
     I could go seriously wrong here.

Nurse Jones,
     so strictly brought up she's desperately anxious to
     do the wrong thing correctly.

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