The Ferryman by John E. Siers

The Ferryman by John E. Siers

Author:John E. Siers [Siers, John E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hit World Press
Published: 2021-04-05T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Honey Do

Honey Ryder walked through the front door on schedule at 11 AM Sunday morning. Despite her haste to get it over with, she hadn’t asked for an earlier arrival.

“Went to church this morning,” she told Mark. “Probably won’t help me in the end, but I had to do it anyway. So…are we ready?”

“Yes…just need you to imprint the contract one more time.”

She did so, and he got up to escort her to the x-room, where they’d set up the scene for her final performance.

“I was wondering,” Mark asked, “did you want wear a gown like Lansbury had in the movie? Lisa thought you might, so she watched the movie and put together something simple that should fit you.”

“Yeah…that would be pretty neat,” she agreed. “I seem to remember her boobs weren’t too covered up, and she had on some kind of filmy long skirt. You sure you won’t miss? I want it right between the boobs—I mean, don’t mess ‘em up…I paid too much for these things.”

He heard the nervousness in her voice, but she didn’t stop walking.

“Don’t worry…we won’t miss,” he assured her.

He led her into the x-room to the little stage they had set up, where Lisa waited with the gown over her arm.

“Is that my costume?” she asked. “Guess I’ve got to get naked—don’t think they wore underwear back in bible times.”

She started stripping down. She was used to costume changes on Hollywood movie sets and showed no sign of modesty.

“It’ll be quick, won’t it?” She turned to him as Lisa helped her put on the gown. “You promised it’ll be quick.”

“Yes, it’ll be quick,” Mark assured her. “If it looks like you’re suffering at all, I’ll step in and put you out of it. We don’t let people suffer here.”

Unless they want to, of course, and even then we limit it to half an hour. Nobody’s asked for a real impalement yet—not sure I’d do it if somebody did.

Lisa led Honey to the little platform on the stage and switched on the camera. The large flat screen lit up and showed her standing there against the dark crimson drapery that covered the wall behind her. The makeshift gown was white with azure blue trim. A broad blue sash went around the waist, and the skirt just barely cleared the floor. The halter top was gathered by a band at the middle, displaying Honey’s spectacular cleavage to best advantage.

“How’s that?” Lisa beamed with pride. The gown fit perfectly—she’d gotten a full set of Honey’s measurements from the security camera system three days ago. She’d produced the gown in half an hour on her cutting table and sewing machine.

“Wow…” Honey stared at the screen. “That’s…amazing. I really do look like a star. Eat your heart out, Cecil B. DeMille…”

“OK…step up here.” Lisa stepped forward again and adjusted Honey’s position on the platform, easing her back between two rods protruding from the wall.

“Put your arms over these…think of them like staging marks, to make sure you’re in the right place.


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