Chapter 13: Safe in a “No”

The weekend was a blur but enjoyable. We spent the entire time together. We slept in on Saturday morning, as the package I brought home yesterday had kept us up most of the night.

Becca was sound asleep when I awoke, so I left her in the handcuffs, short-chained leg cuffs, and connecting chain I put her in last night. I knew today would be challenging for her, as she was scheduled to be at the museum all day for a well-known traveling exhibition for which she was responsible. She was looking forward to it for months now. So, I let her sleep in.

I wasn’t up for long when I heard the soft clinking of her chains. She hobbled into the kitchen and kissed me, still in the leather teddy with matching panties and garter and wearing the stockings from the transport. They were still in excellent condition, and she seemed to have grown attached to them.

She then whispered in my ear what she wanted, taking my hand and wrapping my fingers around her connecting chain. Smiling, I gently led her back to the bedroom, where we stayed until afternoon.

We eventually got up, and I made a light lunch. As we sat at the table, Becca smiled, rubbing her stocking-clad feet up and down my leg. Her ankles had to work in unison, given she could only separate them by eight inches.

“Was it better?” she asked, giving me that mischievous look.

“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing where she was heading.

“You know...” she replied with a teasing tone.

“Mmph ... Mmph...” She added with a sultry tone, her voice filled with a subtle hint of yearning.

“You’re evil,” I replied with a grin.

“I know. That’s why you love me,” Becca responded with a wink.

“What do you want to do today?” I asked.

“You’re changing the subject,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Well,” she waited for me to respond.

“It felt different but also incredibly intimate. The intensity was unlike anything we’ve experienced before, and I felt a deeper connection with you—one that we’ve never shared until now,” I said, trying to express the depth of my feelings.

“And you?” I asked cautiously.

With her smile intact, Becca nodded. “It was comforting. There was something about having clear boundaries set that made me feel secure. It’s like the limitations created a space where I could let go of other worries and just focus on the here and now. It was intense but in a way that felt strangely reassuring.”

I nodded silently and let her continue. Becca took a deep breath, her eyes reflecting the complexity of her emotions.

“There’s something about being bound that forces me to confront my own limits. It’s almost like a form of meditation, where the jewelry acts as a way to center myself. The less freedom I have, the more I become aware of my own body and its reactions,” she said, her tone thoughtful.

She paused, glancing down at the chains, then back at me. “It’s also about the surrender. Last night and earlier, I had to let go of control. It was an intense experience because it challenged me to accept the situation and find a sense of peace within it. It’s paradoxical, really. Being so physically confined created a sense of freedom. I found calm in the structure it provided.”

Her toes continued to lightly caress my leg as if stabilizing her thoughts. “There was an emotional aspect to it, too. The way you responded—added another layer to the experience. It wasn’t about being tied but the connection we shared. It deepened the intimacy and trust between us, making it a deeply shared experience.”

Becca’s gaze softened as she looked at me. “Sometimes, when everything else is so chaotic, having something that clearly defines my limits helps me find a strange sort of peace. It’s a way to escape the noise and simply be present with you.”

She smiled gently, her expression a mixture of vulnerability and contentment. “So, even though it might seem unusual, it’s comforting. It’s a way for me to connect more deeply with myself and with you.”

I nodded, agreeing with Becca’s sentiments. “It feels like it’s created a deeper bond between us, revealing how much we mean to each other.”

Becca’s eyes softened as she spoke. “When we’re together, it feels like it binds us in a way that’s meaningful and personal, just like when we’re close in other ways.”

We smiled at each other, and then I asked, “What now?”

Becca glanced at her leg-cuffed ankles but didn’t say anything. After a moment, she added, “I think we need to explore the other jewelry,” she paused, collecting her thoughts. Then she continued, “Each piece will offer a unique way to enhance our connection. We need to see how each one works for us and find what works best as we go along.”

I smiled and nodded. “We can do that,” I said.

She stood up, took my hands, and hobbled backward, encouraging me to stand as well. She wrapped my fingers around the connecting chain and softly said, “But first, I think we need to explore all the possibilities with what I’m in right now.”

“I thought we did that,” I said.

She shook her head back and forth, “There’s one other,” she hinted. I smiled and gently led her into the bedroom, where we stayed until late afternoon.

When we got up, I could see Becca was clearly enjoying our time together, but I figured a change of pace would be nice.

I suggested we should go out and get some air. It was Saturday night, our usual date night.

Becca gave me a knowing look. “We’ve been ‘dating’ all day,” she said, her voice light and teasing.

We both laughed, but I was insistent. “I’m serious. We really should go out. We don’t have to do anything fancy. Just get some food and take a little walk.”

Becca, who wanted more of our indoor “dating,” reluctantly agreed.

When the matter of taking off the restraints came up, she hesitated. There was a bit of a standoff as she wasn’t entirely on board with the idea. Eventually, we settled on a compromise: the restraints would come off, but she could wear the hinged handcuffs in the car.

We cleaned up and changed. While I was getting things ready in the living room, Becca emerged from the bedroom, looking like she was preparing for an adventure. She wore her favorite snug jeans, which hugged her curves perfectly, showing off her toned legs and accentuating her slim waist. They were high-waist jeans in a deep, rich blue with a slightly distressed look that added a touch of rugged charm.

Her knee-high boots were a striking shade of brown, with four-inch block heels that made her legs look even longer. The boots had a polished finish with subtle stitching along the sides, giving them a sleek yet practical appearance.

She paired the jeans with a black halter top that clung to her figure in all the right ways, highlighting her toned arms and accentuating her neckline. Over it, she wore a brown leather jacket that added a touch of toughness to her look. The jacket was well-fitted and cropped, ending just above her hips, with a sleek, minimalistic design that complemented her outfit. The leather had a slight sheen, catching the light and adding an extra layer of sophistication.

Altogether, her outfit was both stylish and practical. It was perfect for a night out and just a hint of adventure.

“It’s supposed to be cooler out tonight,” Becca said, glancing at me. “Looks like an early fall—maybe even a colder winter.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “definitely getting cooler.” I grabbed my jacket.

Becca then asked, “So, where do you want to go? There’s that food truck area, the one by the park with the walking path.”

“Yeah,” I said, “We’ve talked about trying that. It’d be a nice, casual place. We can sit outside.”

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“Almost, I was thinking...” Becca’s wide-eyed look made it clear she had something specific in mind. I knew exactly where the conversation was headed.

“Yeah,” I replied with a grin. “Go get them,” referring to the hinged handcuffs.

“Remember, they come off when we get there,” I told her.

Becca nodded with a playful smile. “I know,” she said as she walked back into the bedroom.

I heard her rummaging through the restraint bag, and she reappeared, holding the leather belt, the regular handcuffs, and the accompanying leg cuffs.

“Really? Isn’t that a bit much? I thought we agreed to the hinged cuffs,” I insisted.

“I think it would work with my outfit,” Becca said, holding up the belt. “The loop on these jeans is really wide, and I think this belt would fit perfectly. Can we try?”

Figuring things out as I went, I looped the belt on Becca in a backward fashion, fastening it behind her. The belt was quite long, much longer than Becca’s waist—designed to fit both small and large sizes. It had two additional loops intended to tuck in the excess length. I threaded the belt through these loops but found it was still too long. I then doubled it back to keep the extra length in place. Although the belt stuck out a bit, I hoped Becca’s jacket would cover it up.

“How is it?” I asked. “Does it feel okay?”

Becca looked down, “It feels fine. Feels like a belt—that’s on backward and is too long.”

We both laughed. She then handed me the hand and leg cuffs.

“Can we wait until we get to the car?” I proposed. “Your jacket is snug and not long enough and won’t cover your hands even if we zip it up. And the leg cuffs, well—,” I added.

I zipped up her jacket and checked to see if it covered the belt. The high-waisted cut of her jeans helped, but only just. I could also see that Becca’s reluctance about the suggestion was evident; her expression showed a touch of unhappiness. Nevertheless, she agreed.

I went into the bedroom to grab the handcuff key while Becca slipped the hand and leg cuffs into her jacket pocket. We then headed out.

From a distance, the belt was ordinary. But up close, with a bit of scrutiny, the D-ring was clearly visible, held in place by four rivets. It was stylish with her outfit, yet decidedly unconventional. Becca cleverly folded the D-ring to the side, making it resemble a belt buckle for anyone who wasn’t paying close attention.

When we reached the car, Becca already had the handcuffs ready in her hand. I carefully fastened one cuff around her wrist, then looped the handcuffs through the D-ring before locking her other wrist in place. I secured both cuffs with the key, double-locking them to ensure they wouldn’t tighten further.

Becca gave a gentle tug at the cuffs and nodded in approval. I helped her into the car, and then she lifted her ankles. I secured and double-locked each cuff, observing how snugly they fit against the leather of her boots. As she swiveled her legs into place, I buckled her in, noting how the seatbelt felt awkward against her restrained hands.

As we carefully pulled out of the apartment complex, I asked, “How are they?”

“They feel like the high-security ones I wore last week,” Becca said. “I mean, it’s the same handcuffs and the same position, but I have more freedom. The leg cuffs feel snug but don’t hurt; the boots are protecting my ankles. The longer chain is a bit awkward, though.”

“Awkward?” I asked, a little puzzled.

“Yeah, it’s like I have too much freedom. It’s restrictive, but I feel like I could move around easily,” she tried to explain.

“But the biggest difference is definitely my hands. That lockbox kept my hands really rigid, like the hinged handcuffs you kept me in for work.” She demonstrated by moving her hands around, though they remained at her waist.

“I kept you in?” I asked, confused.

“Yeah,” Becca clarified. “You put me in them, and I couldn’t get them off. Not until you removed them.”

“You wanted them on,” I said. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have put them on you.”

“Yeah, I did,” Becca said. “But once they were on, I couldn’t take them off. Not unless you did. So, you were keeping me in them.” She rationalized it, a small smile on her lips.

I was trying to mask my concern but couldn’t hide it completely. I wanted to understand what she was saying. “Tell me more about what you’re feeling,” I said.