"Hello?" I said into the mouthpiece of my office phone. Some fumbling sounds and then: "Hello? Mr. Johnston's office?" It was Katty's voice.

"Katty? Hi, It's me."

More fumbling a clunk and then from a distance: "Hang on. I dropped you. Damn!"

I waited.

"There," she said into the mouthpiece. "Got it. Ken? would you believe I've actually poked up your number all by myself and I'm really using the phone?"

"Great," I said. "Sometime you've got to show me how you did it."

"Mother's gone off to a meeting somewhere. The hard part was reaching up onto the kitchen counter. Had to stand on tip-toe, so to speak, then grab the cord in my teeth. At the moment the phone and yours truly are on the kitchen floor. Anyhow, we never finished talking about your scheme to see who's stealing the stuff from the stores!"

"That's true. Peter and Victoria took over the conversation, didn't they?"

"Right. I think Victoria's in love. Can that happen? Can a... a... Oh, never mind. Anyhow, when can we get together again? I'd like to try your idea if you really think it would work."

Tuesday evening I was back at the Borman household.

"Katty's up in her room," Mrs. Borman said. "She's expecting you. She said you have some secret plan to see where the missing product is going. Is that right?"

"It's just a thought, Mrs. Borman, but it could work."

"And she said it involved her?"

I chose not to reveal the plan to Mrs. Borman. She might just tell someone else.

"Katty?"

"Come on in, Ken."

Katty was on the floor, leafing through some of our store catalogs with her tongue.

"What department are we going to spy on?" she asked.

"Sporting goods is really the only really serious one," I said. There's a sportswear section right across where you could get a good view. You want to try it?"

"Sure. Why not? Maybe I can do something useful. How can we get me set up without everyone knowing about it?"

I had worked out some of the details. We would arrive after the store was closed and dark, but before the cleaning crew. I would explain that I was bringing in a 'test display'. In a hand truck covered with store wraps, I would bring in the display (Katty). I would relock the doors and set the alarm once we were inside.

"So far, so good, Katty," I whispered as I stopped the hand truck at the end of the aisle.

"Good. Get me out of this stuff."

I unwrapped Katty. She was now dressed in an armless, tailored red cotton blouse and a short, yellow, pleated skirt. Some makeup made her complexion flat and artificial. For the first time in her life she wore bright red lipstick.

"How are the shades?"

"Better than I thought," she said. "I can see in the dark pretty well."

"Ready?"

"I guess so. Good thing you reminded me to tinkle."

Using her leg prosthetics as a model, I had fashioned a holder to fit Katty's little bottom on a typical mannequin support and added a backrest.

I tipped her up and set her in the holder.

"OK?"

"Not bad. I think I can be OK for a few hours in this." She shook her body. "Now what?"

"Up we go."

I lifted Katty in the rig onto the top of a display case near the aisle.

Other than the fact that normal store mannequins don't have the remarkably prominent bosom that blessed Katty's young torso, she looked very 'un-lifelike'.

"This top is too tight," she said, looking down. "I'm squished. If we do this again, get me one with more room in front, OK? Better yet if we do this again, dress me like that one over there."

She nodded at a torso mannequin draped only with a diaphanous bit of nylon.

"I'll work on it," I smiled.

"OK?" I asked. She nodded.

"See you later."

"You're kidding!" I exclaimed four hours later.

"Dead serious!" Katty said, wriggling into the corner of the booth. Get me something to eat and I'll tell you the whole story."

I went to the counter of the all night diner, got two trays and filled them.

"OK, so can I get to get out of this top or will you feed me?" she asked.

"I'll feed you. Somebody might come in."

"It's really stupid, you know?" she said, wriggling her torso against the table top, "About women having to cover up our boobs in public. What do they think we're going to do with them?"

"I'll feed you. Ready for juice?"

Katty nodded. I held the glass for her.

"Well, anyhow, here's what I saw. About an hour after you left, this man in a store uniform comes in with a little flashlight and handcart, locks the door behind himself and heads for the sporting goods section."

"Mr. Flanagan?"

"Right. The night watchman. Anyhow, he comes in, looks around and takes some stuff from under the counter and some more from the displays, puts it in the handcart and leaves."

"But he's been with the store for years. When these thefts started I had him checked out. I mean he has the keys, the combination to the alarm and he could easily be the culprit, but he's been here since your Dad was first running the company, had a spotless record and the shoplifting only started about a month ago. You're sure that's who you saw?"

"Right. He's been out to the house at holiday times. That's who it was."

We finished our early morning breakfast and I carried Katty out to the car.

She snuggled against my chest.

"Hold me," she said. "Just hold me a little. I've never been all alone,

standing up like that before and I got really spooked. When I'm alone I've always been lying down so I could do things with my mouth, or scratch my nose on the pillow, or things like that. And somebody's always been nearby to do things for me. Propped up like that, and all alone, a fly came and sat on my cheek and I couldn't do anything about it. I realized that I was so totally helpless. For a while I got really frightened. Hold me, OK?"

I held her close.

"So now what?" she asked, after a bit.

"Let's get you home and think about this."

Back in Katty's bedroom I helped her out of confines of the sportswear top and skirt. She joyfully shook her chest, sending her breasts into a cascade of movement.

"Feel better, girls?" she asked her bosom, and laughed. "Take me in to tinkle, would you?"

I carried her into the bathroom and held her while she used the toilet. "I should poo, too. Would you help me?"

I had now assisted Kathryn Borman to perform every physical function known to mankind. Nevertheless, there was still something mysterious and wonderful about her. I wanted to be with her all the time.

"You know what we could do?" she said as I put her on her bed.

"Does it involve Victoria and Peter?"

She giggled a little girl giggle. "Oh yes indeed, that too! But what I

meant was about Mr. Flanagan." She looked at me with a sparkle in her blue- green eyes.

"Could you rig up a remote control for the store lights?"

I thought for a moment.

"I suppose that could be done. Why?"

"I want to try something. I'll have to work out the details. That's for tomorrow. But now, we have some time before morning, go get undressed. Victoria is just desperately hungry for your cute friend, Peter."

Katty chortled a little tune to herself as I undressed.

"Do you like old movies?" she asked.

"I guess so, sure. Why?"

"Well, I saw one where Lord Somebody-or-other was this really elegant guy

and he would kiss a lady's hand."

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering what it would be like." She looked at her chest. Even lying on her back, her breasts stood up, firm and beautiful.

"I wish I had hands. I don't. I just have these big things." She managed to move one breast in a little circle, then the other.

"I pretend sometimes and I can even do some things with them but I know they're not really hands."

"They are as beautiful as any elegant lady's perfect hands," I said, bowing low.

"But they only have one finger... "

"Each one a perfection all its own."

"Except when they get all soft and useless."

That wasn't the case just then. Each nipple was standing up, even more

erect than I had ever seen, reaching out to me. I kissed one, tenderly, then the other, cupping in my hand the marvelous white breast on which it

was mounted. A little shiver went through Katty's body. She lay still with her eyes closed.

"Maybe it's OK," she said softly, her eyes still closed.

"What?"

"Maybe it's OK that I don't have arms or legs." She opened those beautiful eyes and looked at me. "Do you like me?" She asked in a quiet but serious voice.

"Very much," I answered honestly. "I think you're wonderful."

"Wonderful?"

"You're beautiful, smart, funny and cute, bright and clever and I love every inch of you."

"I want to hug you," she said with a smile, "lie down and get me on top of you, OK?"

I did what she asked and with her big breasts spread to the sides of my chest, she peppered my face with kisses. Tipping her pelvis forward she began to massage my manhood until I thought it would burst.

"Maybe if I had arms and legs, I could do this better," she said.

"I can't think of even one improvement.

"Time for Victoria and Peter," she said.

About an hour later, with the first rays of the morning sun beginning to dance across Katty's bedroom, I was getting dressed. "I'd better get going before your Mother wakes up or the maid comes," I said.

"I suppose. It'll save a lot of explaining. Ken?"

"Yes?"

"I feel much better, you know? I mean I actually feel like I can be a useful part of the Company."

"Good. What's your plan that requires a remote light switch?" I asked, buttoning my shirt.

"We know Mr. Flanagan's doing it, now we need to know why, right? I want to surprise Mr. Flanagan in the act. I think that the shock of seeing me,

suddenly, in bright light, will confound him enough that he'll blurt out the true story."

Katty rolled onto her side, facing me.

"According to my psychology courses, it's an ancient technique. People who are taken by surprise, or are in a state of shock are usually unable to create a believable falsehood. Besides," she giggled, "I just have to see

the expression on his face when he recognizes me, up on the counter wearing nothing but that diaphanous fabric."

"So your plan is to wait until he has some things in the handcart, then switch on the lights and reveal yourself, so to speak?"

"Exactly!"

Four nights later we put the plan into action. This time, however, I found a place to hide, across two aisles and toward the back of the room.

As expected, Mr. Flanagan entered with his handcart, reset the alarm, and proceeded to the sporting goods section. After he had added a pair of boxing gloves to the badminton set in the cart, Katty suddenly shifted her

weight, pressing the remote that we had placed next to her bottom. The room was flooded with bright light. Mr. Flanagan was dazed, paralyzed in shock.

"Mr. Flanagan," came Katty's voice, loud and clear, "just what are you going to do with those things?"

Flanagan whirled around. He blinked at the form of Katty, her nude torso on the counter top only lightly disguised by the nearly transparent drape. Her eyes were wide and intense.

He stammered incoherently for a few seconds and then said, "It's for the kids."

I held my hidden position and made sure my recorder was working.

"Mr. Flanagan," repeated Katty, "Tell me exactly what you're doing!" She spoke more loudly, with an unexpected authority.

"Miss Kathryn?"

"Yes! Now what's going on here?"

Flanagan blinked and shook his head, trying to awaken from the nightmare. "It... it's for the kids," he repeated.

Slowly the whole story came out. Mr. Flanagan, it seemed had been secretly supplying equipment to a under-financed and understaffed boys and girls' club across town.

"The kids are so good," he explained, "I don't have anybody of my own to look after and I've been trying to help them. They need something to keep them off the streets, the club has no money... I didn't think anyone would know... "

Mrs. Borman narrowed her eyes and listened to Mr. Flanagan the following week. "We can't just let this go, Mr. Flanagan," she said, "we do need to do the right thing, however."

Katty sat in her wheelchair in "full armor", as she called it.

"If Mr. Flanagan repays the actual cost to the company, slowly, a little at a time," she suggested, "would it be possible to support his enterprise at the boys and girls' clubs as a charitable undertaking, by supplying rejects, seconds, or product that doesn't move?"

"We don't have to support kids with rejects," her mother responded, "We can do the right thing. Yes, Katty, that's a good plan. Welcome to The Firm!"

So as time went on, Katty and I were married. We became the president and CEO of the group of stores, and she, I, Victoria and Peter, continue to

live very well indeed.

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