The Clerk
Copyright© 2026 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 10: Keeps You Helpless
Susan walked out into the family room in a spaghetti strap pajama top, pajama shorts, and tan pantyhose.
“This okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Sophie replied, smiling. “Really cute. That’ll work perfectly.”
Susan sat on the couch and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them in a cocoon-like stance, looking down.
Sophie noticed.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” she asked gently.
“Becca sits that way when she ... um,” she paused, then said it plainly. “When she needs to be put back into her jewelry.”
She looked unsure how else to phrase it.
Then asked, “Do ... do you need them back on?”
“It’s okay if you do,” she added.
Susan shrugged, tilting her head slightly—like she wasn’t sure how to respond.
Sophie then thought for a minute before speaking again.
“Are you open to trying a position I think might help. You can stay in it while I walk you through what I’ve brought?”
Susan nodded.
“Anne, you said you bought another set of restraints?”
“Yeah,” I told her.” They’re downstairs.”
“Can you get them?” she asked me. “Just the cuffs, not the leg ones or anything else.”
I nodded again and stood up.
“And the keys?” she added as I was heading down. “If they don’t use the standard ones.”
Another nod, and I disappeared downstairs, grabbing the hinged cuffs from the box behind the counter.
When I came back, Susan was standing, and Sophie had already secured one of her wrists in a leather strap with metal studs. The hinged cuffs were locked around it, fitting snugly between the studs.
“I was telling Susan that these leather straps protect your skin from the cuffs,” Sophie said. “They’re great when you’re in restraints at home. Even when you go out.”
She looked over at me, smiling. “Not exactly sexy, but they work really well.”
“Becca wears them?” Susan asked.
“Sometimes,” Sophie said. “At least she did early on, when she was getting used to them. I think it was to help when her body was adjusting. But now, she mostly uses them at night, when she has me—”
She stopped short. I don’t think Susan caught it, but I gave Sophie a knowing smile.
She glanced up at me and double-locked the cuff. “They fit between the studs so they don’t move or slip off the leather,” she continued. “They’re comfortable. The only issue is, you get used to being able to move the cuffs around on your wrists and ankles—and like this, they don’t move.”
She smiled at Susan. “Kind of a different sensation ... takes a little getting used to.”
“Okay, sweetie, on your stomach. On the couch.”
Susan got on the couch and lay on her stomach. Sophie grabbed a soft pillow and tucked it under her head.
“Comfortable?” she asked. “Your head and neck okay?”
“Yeah,” Susan responded.
“Okay,” Sophie continued. “Put your hands behind your back. I’m going to cuff them.”
Susan did as she was told, and Sophie wrapped another leather strap around her other wrist before locking the second hinged cuff in place. She double-locked it.
“How’s that?” she asked. “Should be snug. Really snug—but not hurting.”
“It’s fine,” Susan replied.
She tried to twist her wrists around, but Sophie had cuffed them palms out. When she couldn’t, she gave a small wince.
Seeing this, Sophie added with a nod, her tone calm and kind. “Yeah. Like I said, those leather straps keep your wrists and ankles in place.”
“Can you turn my wrists around?”
Sophie tilted her head slightly. “Is this your first time with them behind your back?”
“Yeah,” Susan admitted.
“Okay,” Sophie said softly. “When you’re cuffed behind you—especially with hinged cuffs—you actually want your hands facing out. From what I understand, that’s how dangerous prisoners are restrained. It keeps your joints safer.”
She offered a small, sympathetic smile. “I know it feels weird at first, but it’s really better this way—more comfortable, honestly. Just give it a bit. And if, after a while, you’re still wanting them the other way, tell me, okay?”
“Okay, now your ankles.”
“You have tiny ones, so regular handcuffs should fit over them—even with the leather straps.”
“You can use shorter chain leg cuffs—they give you a bit more freedom, but that might not be what you want,” she said.
Then added, “But if you’re ever like this and wearing boots or something, just keep in mind you’ll have to use the leg cuffs. You won’t be able to get regular handcuffs over boots or other kinds of shoes.”
I watched as Sophie gently wrapped Susan’s ankles in leather, then locked the hinged cuffs I’d brought from downstairs around them. She double-locked those, too.
She was right—they fit perfectly around her ankles. Snug, especially with the leather, but just right. Almost like they were made for her.
“How’s that? Should feel like the hands—snug, but not painful.”
“They’re okay,” Susan said. She bit her lip. “Can’t move my ankles apart.”
“Yeah,” Sophie replied. “That’s the idea.”
She walked over to her purse and pulled out a pair of chain cuffs. Walking back to Susan, she locked one end of the chain cuffs to the hinged cuffs on Susan’s wrists and double-locked it.
Then she crouched by her legs.
“Susan, I need you to lift your ankles up to your wrists. As far as you can. See if you can hold your feet with your hands.”
Susan did exactly that. As she held her feet, Sophie slipped the other cuff around the hinged cuffs on her ankles and double-locked it.
“Okay, let go.”
Susan let go—and realized her ankles were now held tightly at her wrists. She wiggled, almost wrestled a bit in place.
“Does anything hurt?” Sophie asked.
“No,” Susan replied. “I...” Her shoulders shifted, her ankles bent slightly. “I ... I just can’t move.”
Sophie sat back down. “It’s called a hogtie,” she remarked.
She looked at me and said, “Sometimes it’s called a hogcuff.”
“Keeps you pretty much helpless. You can’t move—just lie there, squirm, and struggle,” she explained. “But honestly, it’s kind of a waste of energy. Fighting the cuffs won’t get you anywhere. You can’t get out.”
“The leather cuffs help with the pressure,” she added. “Some people don’t use them, but after a while, the cuffs start digging in. So, you can’t be that way for long. The leather helps so you can.”
“How do you feel?” Sophie asked. “How do your palms feel, facing out now that you’re in everything?”
Susan nodded.
“Okay,” she said, shaking her head slightly against the pillow. “Comfortable. Feels like a natural position.”
“Just lie there and let your body go limp,” Sophie said gently. “Just relax.”
“It should help with ... those feelings you get,” Sophie added gently.
“Have you ever been hogtied before?”
“No,” Susan replied.
“It’s a different sensation—like I said. If you’re not used to it.” She paused. “But ... that feeling of helplessness can help you feel better.”
Susan nodded again. Then asked, “Do I just lie here?”
“Yeah,” Sophie replied. “Just lie there and clear your head of everything. Closing your eyes can help, too.”
“So...” Susan hesitated, thinking. “This is just to help some people feel better?”
“Yeah,” Sophie said. “For some people, yes. For others, it’s a sexual thing.”
“So...” Susan started again, a little uncertain. “So, you can have sex like this?”
“Uh...” Sophie glanced at me. “Well ... it depends.”
She paused, thinking.
“It’s sexual in the sense that it’s a turn-on,” Sophie explained gently. “She might like the way it feels—or how it makes him feel. She might wiggle or struggle for him, to show how helpless she is. Or she might whimper, beg him to remove them, to get out—but she’s really doing that as a turn-on. Everything is completely consensual and safe.”
Sophie then made a few soft struggling and squirming sounds, like some women might make in bed during sex or when tied up, just to illustrate.
“You know, saying things like, ‘They’re so tight. I can’t move at all,’ then struggling a little before making noises like ‘mmmppphhh.’ You know, those sounds guys like.”
We all couldn’t help but giggle at Susan’s reenactment.
She then smiled softly. “Think of it like foreplay. It kind of gets both of them in the mood.”
“But then she’d be released. Or at least her ankles, right?”
“So ... you have to be released?” Susan asked.
“Uh...” Sophie glanced at me again. “No...” she said carefully. “If she’s really flexible—and he’s really strong—she could stay like that.”
Susan looked at her, one eye resting against the pillow. “How?”
“He’d hold her up. If she’s tiny, and he’s really strong, he could just hold her while standing—and be inside her.”
“Or more likely,” she continued, “he’d be sitting on the bed, with her on his lap. He’d be inside her that way.”
“But...” Sophie added, “she wouldn’t have any way to deal with the pressure—not with her ankles cuffed to her wrists like you are now. He’d be in complete control. And he’d have to be gentle—so he wouldn’t accidentally hurt her. Because she can’t shift or move as he’s gently thrusting himself inside her. Like you can see—she’d be totally helpless.”
“She’d only be able to tell him ... assuming he doesn’t have her gagged.”
“So, she’d be in a gag like this?” Susan asked.
“Maybe,” Sophie replied. “If that’s what they both want. Yeah, she could be ball-gagged or in a harness.”
We could see Susan thinking.
I could see her shrugging. I knew what she wanted to ask—and so did Sophie.
“Did you want to try one on?” Sophie asked. “I brought one.”
Susan nodded.
Sophie pulled it out of her bag, along with a small padlock, and placed a ring of keys on the coffee table.
She knelt on the floor in front of Susan so she could see it clearly, holding it up.
“This is a silicone and rubber ball gag. The straps are leather,” she said, glancing at Susan’s mouth. “I think it’ll fit fine. Snug. It’ll keep your mouth open, but it won’t stretch your jaw.”
“Have you ever been in one of these?” she asked.
Susan shook her head slowly, still staring at the gag.
“Okay,” Sophie said gently. “I’m going to push it behind your teeth.”
Susan blinked, her eyes locked on the gag in Sophie’s hands.
“That means your jaw will need to open a little more at first to get it to slip in,” Sophie continued. “But once it’s in, your teeth will just rest around it.”
Susan shifted slightly on the couch, adjusting her head against the pillow. She nodded slowly—nervous, but willing.
“I’ll buckle it in place,” Sophie said, watching her closely. “It’ll be snug, so you won’t be able to push it out. That’s why it goes behind your teeth.”
Susan gave another small nod, her breathing shallow but steady.
“And then,” Sophie added softly, “I’ll padlock it.”
Susan’s brows lifted slightly.
“Not because you need it locked,” Sophie clarified quickly, glancing toward her bound hands. “Especially with your wrists cuffed like that. But ... it’s more of a psychological thing. Just knowing you couldn’t remove it—even if your hands were free.”
She then smiled. “It can also be a turn-on for both of them, knowing it’s locked on.”
Susan looked up at her, the smallest flicker of understanding passing through her eyes. Then she nodded one last time—ready.
“Do you have a soft washcloth?” she asked me.
I nodded and disappeared into the bathroom.
When I returned, Sophie was already sliding the ball into Susan’s mouth, pushing it behind her teeth. Susan’s eyes widened—her jaw opening slightly more than looked comfortable, just for a moment. Then Sophie brought the leather straps under her head and buckled them, pulling the straps tight until they pressed against her cheeks. I watched her slip the padlock through the buckle and click it shut.
Taking the washcloth from me, she gently placed it under Susan’s mouth on top of the pillow.
“I know it feels uncomfortable at first, with the ball being pushed in,” she said calmly, and she paused. “But it really needs to go behind your teeth. It’s not like in the movies where you see a woman’s teeth just resting on the ball—that actually hurts after a while.”
“And if the ball’s in front, or if her mouth is only opened a little, it’s not really secure and she could just push it out easily. This way, you know it’s properly in place, he knows it’s on, and most importantly, it won’t move around or become a choking hazard.”
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