The store’s frosted glass door opened onto a wide foyer with a reception desk. Muted, indirect lighting lit the room. A vivid painting hung behind the receptionist’s desk. The painting depicted a long haired woman, kneeling at a man’s knees in front of a roaring fire. The woman wore a metal collar with a leash that trailed off out of the scene. The woman’s breasts bulged nearly out of a restrictive corset above a thin line of matching panties. Her arms overlapped at the small of her back. Leather cuffs bound each wrist to the opposite forearm. In the curve of her left breast, a small black and yellow tattoo was just visible over the top of the corset.
Gail hesitated when her gaze fell on the painting. I placed a firm hand against her back and eased her forward toward the receptionist who sat before a computer monitor. At first glance, I realized that it was obvious the receptionist was the redhead in the painting. She looked to be in her late twenties and wore a body-fitting dress cut high at the neck. A thin metal collar circled her pale neck; at the front of the collar was a steel hoop.
The woman looked up when we entered, noted our rough clothing, and almost hid her distaste. “May I help you?”
I had another motive for bringing Gail inside. A single man in boots and outdoor wear might be an unusual customer unless he was looking for restraints for a less than playful purpose. From the look the receptionist was giving us, I wasn’t sure having Gail with me would allay her suspicions.
“Yes, we’re looking for restraints,” I said as we approached her desk.
The woman nodded, looked from Gail to me, and asked, “For which one of you?”
“Ah, for Gail,” I said, placing a hand on Gail’s shoulder.
The woman looked Gail up and down as though taking her body measurements. “Yes, good choice,” she said cryptically. “What type are you interested in, a beginner’s set, perhaps?”
“Ah, no, we need items for the more experienced. I was thinking a straight jacket, steel and leather cuffs, matching collar, maybe some bondage tape, and some good rope,” I said.
The receptionist raised her eyebrows as she reappraised our appearance. “Yes, well, it sounds like you know what you want.” She stood and motioned toward a curtained doorway. “If you will follow me?”
For appearances, I kept my hand on Gail’s shoulder, but also because I had the suspicion that she might back out. I lightly directed her toward the inner doorway.
The receptionist held the curtain back and I silently urged Gail into the next room. Gail stopped just inside the room and took in the store’s variety. Manikins displayed various items of restraints, masks, gags, posture collars, and handcuffs besides the blatantly more sexual items that would hold a partner in all manner of positions while allowing full access. It seemed the latter was a major requirement of the store’s restraints. Photographs adorned the walls. Photographs of nearly nude women wearing a collection of items found on the shelves near the photos. The pictures, however revealing, were not vulgar in their display of sexuality, rather they were artful arrangements of light and shadow and gave even the most revealing of poses a naughty, but classy image. I approved.
“My name is Malinda,” the receptionist said. “Now, to your right we have a wide selection of wrist restraints; from padded handcuffs to the more comfortable leather bindings.” She walked past us and picked up a pink furred set of steel cuffs.
“Ah, I think fur would be inappropriate,” I said.
Gail cocked her head to face me but didn’t comment.
“Oh, it’s faux fur, not real,” Malinda said.
“I’m sure.” I moved Gail closer to the display and picked up a wide leather cuff that had a band of polished stainless steel on the outside. A small metal lock, with two keys, hung from the hasp. A large D-ring provided an attachment point.
I felt Gail’s muscles tighten. I released my grip on her shoulder. “Hold out your hand.”
Gail held out her left hand without meeting my gaze. I wrapped the cuff around her wrist and tightened it down to check the size. “Is the leather comfortable?”
Gail avoided my gaze and nodded. “Yes, very comfortable.”
I took it off and held it out. “This will do perfectly, Malinda. Do you have matching ankle restraints?”
“Yes, certainly.” She picked up the box containing the second of the pair of wrist restraints and motioned for us to follow her. I took Gail’s wrist in my hand and led her after Malinda. Farther down the wall, Malinda stopped in front of an identical pair of restraints except the box showed a picture of a nude woman wearing the cuffs on her ankles.
“What’s the difference, other than the photo on the box?” I asked.
“Only size, the wrist cuffs fit from less than five inches to nine inches while the ankle cuffs fit from seven to twelve inches.”
I glanced at Gail’s boots. They rose about halfway to her knees. When I raised my eyes, I found Malinda had been staring at Gail’s boots also, but with a look bordering on fear.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re hiking today. I’m sure these will fit when Gail is wearing high heels,” I said coldly.
Malinda flinched, cast her gaze down, and turned her head slightly, as if she feared being struck. “Yes, sir. I did not presume to judge.”
I turned toward Gail and my smile died at the glare she gave me.
I coughed and added, “One time can be forgiven, as long as it’s just one time.”
“Again, my sincere apologies, sir. It will not happen again,” Malinda said without meeting my gaze.
My attention was drawn to a display of collars behind Malinda. “We’ll need a collar.”
“Of course, sir. What type do you prefer?”
I pointed out one. “The one that matches the wrist and ankle restraints.”
Malinda followed my gaze and picked up the demonstration model. “Would you like me to check
