She was in his high school class. Back then Camille had been a walking stick. Nice looking face with long red hair but had no curves. Being a late blo...mer, she had a magnicent body now. She sat in Victoria's spot and passed a small folded piece of paper to him."It's my phone number. I thought I would give it to you while the girl you're with is busy doing in the ladies room. You do remember me, don't you? Camille Weathers?" She reached over putting her hand on his. Her bright red nails dug. She stood in front of me and reached around me with both hands taking one edge of the front of the corset in each hand and drawing it around me. As she worked I got my first close look at it. The pretty cloth with the shiny flowers was only the outer covering. The inside of the corset was a very heavy fabric. It was as heavy as canvas only very tightly woven and very smooth. It was almost slick. I could see that there was a row of lacing the full-length of the corset in back and on each side.. She frowned slightly as she spotted Steph sitting at a table. The frown wasn’t due to Steph. The two aristocratic women more than tolerated each other, although they were sufficiently similar in approach to sometimes set the sparks flying. No what bothered her was the sight of Ian Atkins sitting beside her. Beckbury’s solicitor was not someone she was expecting to see. ‘Good flight?’ enquired Steph as she made her way through the cheap tables. She was distantly aware that nearly all the men in. After practice, Tom came over to talk as they showered."Hey buddy," Tom said, "thanks for the advice you gave Coach about our wearing suits. I forgot to tell you yesterday. Cirota called us to his office and was making a fuss about him making us to stay on the Program for as long as we practiced and competed with suits—for the rest of the year even—but when Coach came in he took the Program booklet and showed Cirota the 'protective' clothing part. Then Coach said that as the supervising teacher.
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