The Clerk
Copyright© 2026 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 9: Know the Way ... In Bed
“Let me lock up and we’ll head upstairs. You can see our crowded little apartment.”
Sophie nodded with a small smile. She put down her purse and then set a leather bag on the counter next to one of those white plastic takeout sacks that every Chinese place seems to use. She leaned in and hugged Susan, warm and close, then took her hands gently in her own, her gaze drifting to the restraints on her wrists.
“How are you, Susan?”
“Okay,” she said quietly.
“They’ve been comfortable? Anne said sometimes you don’t even realize they’re on.”
“Yeah.” She nodded with a little shrug. “It’s fine most of the time. Just when I try to grab something or go up the stairs ... that’s when I really feel them.”
Sophie gave a knowing smile. “Yeah. They’re great at reminding you who’s in charge.”
“But that’s a good thing. It means your body’s starting to adjust. They’re beginning to feel natural.”
She looked down at Susan’s ankles. “And walking? The chain length’s been alright?”
“Yeah,” Susan said. “I know exactly how far I can step now. And with the connecting chain, they don’t tangle or catch on my heels or anything. So, yeah. It’s been fine.”
“Well, you look amazing in that dress and those heels,” Sophie said, her voice turning playful. “Becca would totally say the hose pull it all together. And the jewelry? Perfect.”
Susan smiled a little. “Anne really knows how to pair clothes with accessories.”
“Looks like each of us has our own fashionista,” Sophie said, smiling.
“It helps working at a department store—seeing stuff go on sale before anyone else,” I said, walking over to them.
“I’m going to have to stop by then,” Sophie said, glancing at me. “You’ll have to tell me when things you think would work for me go on sale.”
She chuckled softly, and Susan jumped in, her thoughts clearly on Becca.
“I’m sorry about Becca. I would’ve come, but...” she lifted her hands slightly, leaving the rest unspoken.
Sophie leaned in a little closer, her smile gentle. “Yeah. Showing up at the hospital in those?”
She nodded toward Susan’s restraints. “I know the people who work there have probably heard ... but there would still be questions. Then there’s the sheriff’s department...”
She trailed off, and I could see she was thinking about all the things that might have come up if I had taken Susan to the hospital like that.
“Ben’s with her right now,” Sophie said. “We’re hoping she’ll get to come home tomorrow. We’ve been getting the house ready ... trying to make it as comfortable as possible for her.”
She glanced down, then back up at Susan. “But thanks. She appreciated the support. That Anne was there. I told her later that night, once she was awake. Let her know you both were thinking of her.”
Sophie gave her hands a little shake, light and encouraging, nudging the moment gently into something warmer.
“But tonight?” she said with a grin. “Tonight’s about you. Good old-fashioned girl talk.”
She leaned in like she was sharing a secret, her voice playful. “The kind of stuff you only learn from girlfriends who bring over Chinese food ... and a bag full of jewelry.”
Susan laughed, caught off guard.
Sophie glanced over at me as I moved around the counter to shut off the lights.
“Anne says you like the place down the street, so I grabbed us some dinner. Figured we’d sit around, talk ... and then I’ve got a few things to show you.” She shrugged, still smiling.
“Maybe you could try them on? No pressure. Just see how it all feels.”
She watched Susan for a moment, reading her face, then asked gently, “Anne told you?”
Susan nodded, her voice soft but sure.
“Yeah,” she said, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. “She told me what we’d be doing.”
“And you’re okay with it? If not, it’s totally fine,” I said, reemphasizing there was no pressure.
“I’m okay,” she replied. “Really. I’m ... I’m fine with trying different things.”
I grabbed a key from the box. Susan moved over to a chair at the end of the counter and knelt on it, leaning forward. I reached down and quickly undid her leg cuffs, helping her back up and handing them to her. The whole thing was completely natural. I think Sophie noticed—how quiet and unspoken it all was.
“Should we head up?” I asked.
Sophie nodded, grabbing the bag and her purse while I picked up the food. We headed upstairs, me gently guiding Susan along.
“Wow, this is really nice,” Sophie said, looking around. “I always thought these places were just flats or something.”
“No,” I said, setting the food down on the counter. “Full apartment. Still small, but two bedrooms, one bath.”
I glanced back at her with a smile. “You know, enough for two girls.”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “It’s nice. I like it.”
I took the bag from Sophie and set it down in the living room, tucking it halfway under the coffee table. Just out of the way, but easy to grab when we were ready.
“We can just eat out of the containers,” Sophie said as I headed into the kitchen to boil some water.
“Is there any other way?” I shot back, grinning over my shoulder.
I came back with a few cups and set them on the coffee table, along with a pitcher of lemonade.
“Water will just take a minute. We’ve got gas, so it heats up fast.”
Sophie nodded. “Perfect.”
Then, with a small smile, “Yeah, Becca and Ben have gas too. Ben’s kind of obsessed with it.”
She glanced over at Susan. “If you hand me the keys to her padlock, I can slip her out of those ... just so she can eat and we can talk.”
She gave me that “it’s okay” look from across the room.
I nodded and reached around to the key ring hanging near the counter, pulling off the one with all her restraint keys. I handed them over to her.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as she gently turned Susan around and unlocked the padlock, setting it on the arm of the couch. Then she carefully slid the loose chain out of the lockbox and laid it, along with the leg cuffs and the box, on the chair nearby.
“I forgot you wear hinged,” Sophie said with a soft smile.
Susan shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter once the box is on.”
Sophie nodded. “Yeah. That’s true.”
She slipped off the cuffs and folded them neatly, setting them, along with the key, on the edge of the coffee table. Then she grabbed the padlock and placed it on top of the rest of the restraints on the chair.
“Once you’re done eating, Anne or I can help you back in, if you feel like you need it. Sound good?”
Susan nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”
The kettle chimed and I pulled it off the burner and brought it over, setting it on the table with a trivet. I grabbed the food and a box of tea and carried everything into the living room.
“I had them label the boxes,” Sophie said as she started unpacking. “So hopefully they actually got it right.”
She read each label out loud, handing us our boxes, along with chopsticks and plastic forks. We settled into the couches, casual and comfortable, eating and talking.
Sophie told us that Ben and she were hoping Becca could come home tomorrow—and that she’d be moving in with them. To help take care of Becca.
“It just makes sense,” she said.
They already work so closely together. This way, she’d be there—to help, to work from home, to manage everything without constantly running back to her place to walk her dog. And with her lease ending at the end of the month, it just lined up.
She said it all matter-of-factly, like the choice was already made—but there was a flicker in her voice. A hesitation. Like maybe she hadn’t told Ben and Becca yet.
We told Sophie about the kink club night—the one with Bambi, Jennifer, and ... wait ... Jessica and Trinity. It had been fun. They were fun.
We told her the story about Bambi getting hogtied and forced to orgasm in front of everyone by some Domme. Or maybe a therapist? A Domme-therapist? We honestly couldn’t remember.
I mentioned how I’d picked up another set of restraints for Susan, but Bambi ended up in them—and she seemed totally fine with it. And she’d started asking about that service Becca was talking about that one night.
We joked about how Bambi thought Becca was really intense. And how she wanted the service with us—though it sounded like it was turning into more of a double date situation. We figured we’d probably just walk over to the same restaurant as last time. And yeah, we’d take Bambi in cuffs, right alongside Susan.
Sophie thought it was hilarious that Bambi found Becca intense.
“Yeah,” she laughed, “she ... um ... yeah. She can definitely be...”
She bit her lip, glanced up like she was searching for the right word. “Let’s say ... very determined.”
We all cracked up.
But I saw it in her face, clear as day—she loved Becca.
I think I’d known it the night before, at the hospital. But here, now, hearing her talk about Becca ... about moving in ... about how it all “just made sense.” Yeah. She loved her.
I couldn’t help but smile. And I think she knew that I knew.
“I just didn’t think she was into it,” Sophie said after a moment, her voice softer now. “The jewelry. That feeling of being bound ... knowing you can’t get out ... that the person you trust has the keys. That you’ve given yourself to them completely.”
I could see Sophie thinking back to that night, trying to remember.
“Even her sister,” she said, shaking her head. “They didn’t seem into any of it.”
I still couldn’t stop smiling.
She had given herself to Becca. Maybe not officially, maybe not out loud. But in her head, in her heart—she already belonged to her.
“We told her the same thing,” I agreed. “That she didn’t seem into that stuff.”
“But Tuesday night ... it was different,” I said. “Especially after Jessica and Trinity left. She got really focused on the service. Like, seriously into it.”
“We even took her out for a walk. Just down the street a bit. The rain had stopped, everything was quiet—no one was really around. Power was still out, so it just felt ... safe. Like the perfect time to go out in those.”
I glanced at Susan, then back to Sophie.
“I mean, a couple walked past us, but they didn’t say anything. And Bambi? She was totally fine.”
Sophie shrugged.
“Maybe she’s doing it for someone. And figures the two of you can help her figure it out.”
I saw Susan glance at me, smiling—that quiet, knowing kind of smile.
“I don’t know,” Sophie went on. “Maybe she’s got someone in her life who’s into that kind of thing ... and she wants to be that for them. And she feels safe exploring it with you two.”
She looked at us and said, “Sometimes we do things for the people we love—things we wouldn’t normally do.”
Susan smiled at me again, a little deeper this time.
“It might not be an internal need thing for her,” Sophie said. “It could just be sexual. Some people are into the idea of being helpless during sex—not because it’s part of their identity, but because in that moment, when you’re really vulnerable, giving up control just feels ... intense. It’s ... it’s just a turn on for some.”
“So ... being tied up during sex,” Susan asked, a little unsure. “Does it ... actually feel good?”
“For some people,” Sophie said, nodding gently. “Yeah. It really does.”
“How do you know?” Susan asked, her voice cautious but curious.
“You don’t, not really,” Sophie said with a shrug. “Not without just trying it. See how it feels. If it turns you on, if it feels right with the person you’re with.”
She leaned in a little, voice soft but matter-of-fact.
“There’s no checklist. No ‘this works for everyone’ kind of thing. You try it. If it clicks? Great. If it doesn’t, that’s okay, too.”
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