Only 1.2 more miles to go.

Why do I always leap before I look?  I had tried all the parts of this 
separately, but I never knew how . . . much . . they would be when 
done together.

Take the heels, for example, they fit my feet pretty well.  At least as 
well as 5-inch heels ever do, and I had broken them in with a walk 
almost this long.  

And the corset.  I had been wearing one at least 20 hours a day for 
weeks now.  True, this one was a bit tighter, but not that much.  
How much worse was a 5 inch reduction in waist size, compared to 4?

It couldn't have been the collar.  I always held my head up high, so 
the stiff leather really didn't matter.  And as long as I kept my fingers 
laced behind my head, the manacles holding my wrists to my neck 
didn't really change anything.

The manacles at my ankles shouldn't have been a problem, either.  
They only held my stride down to the length allowed by my heels, 
anyway.  Plus kept me from widening out my feet to straddle the 
treadmill.    

Somehow, though, when the treadmill sped up on its random
program, I'd get out of breath and couldn't quite seem to get it back
during the slower sections.  I couldn't decide whether I wanted the 
slower pace or the faster one, since I wouldn't be released until I had 
done the whole 5 miles.  

When the program finally completed, the key to my handcuffs would
swing down and I could get them free.  Of course, the treadmill would
still be running in its cool down mode, so I'd have to maneuver
carefully.

Very carefully.  The chain from the nipple clamps was tied to the
front of the treadmill.  If I slowed too much, well, I didn't even want
to think about that.

Only 1.1 more miles to go.

Oh, God, it's speeding up again!