The Clerk
Copyright© 2026 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 15: Let’s Make You Mine
I unlocked the door.
“I’ll help Bambi inside so I can get her out of her restraints,” I told Susan as I pushed it open. “Give you guys a chance to talk.”
“Goodnight, Bobby,” I added, guiding Bambi through the doorway and letting the door close softly behind us.
I heard him murmur a goodnight in return just as the latch clicked.
“Did you have fun?” I asked, easing her toward the chair by the counter.
She lifted both feet, swaying a little as she spread her legs apart until the chain stopped them, and dropped into the seat with a grin. “I can’t feel my toes,” she said, the words a little lazy, her smile unbothered.
“Five-and-a-half-inch come-and-fuck-me heels will do that,” I said, smiling back.
Bambi tilted her head, still smiling—too wide, too bright. “Is that why you picked these out?” she asked, her tone teasing but her words just slightly slurred around the edges.
I felt the heat rise in my face, and she laughed softly, the sound bubbling out of her. “I’m kidding,” she said.
“I can slip them off,” I offered. “But it’ll really hurt to get your feet back into them.”
Behind me, the door chime jingled.
“Just slip them off her,” Susan called from the doorway.
I turned and walked over, locking the door as I caught sight of Bobby walking past the windows, disappearing from view.
“I don’t think she’ll be driving home,” Susan added. “That drink did her in.”
We’d all had a drink—Bobby a beer, Susan and I wine. And Bambi ... she’d just pointed at the menu and giggled. So yeah, Susan was probably right.
I crouched and slid off Bambi’s heels. Her toes flexed instinctively, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
“Oh—God!” she gasped as her toes flexed inside the stockings, the sudden rush of blood making her flinch and laugh at the same time. “That hurts so good.”
She glanced between us, her grin widening. “We should get her upstairs. You can get me ready for bed, and you and Bambi can talk.”
Hearing that, Bambi tried to stand—more ambition than balance—shuffling forward before pushing herself up too fast.
“Ah—shit!” she gasped, jerking her feet back as if she’d touched something hot, then collapsing into the chair again. “Oh my god, I can feel them again.”
She looked up at me, breath catching, and a soft sound slipped out—half moan, half sigh.
Her toes curled inside the sheer stockings. “That’s—god—that’s better.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, unable to stop smiling. “The heels sort of let you move in the cuffs—especially when they’re on tight.”
She nodded, her eyes lingering on mine a moment too long.
I reached down and unlocked the leg cuffs, slipping them free through the connecting chain and setting them gently on the counter.
“Easy,” I murmured, steadying her as I helped her up.
I turned her around, the small padlock cool against my fingers as I opened it. One by one, the restraints came free, soft clinks of metal on wood as I placed them beside the cuffs.
Bambi stood in front of me, shifting her weight from one bare foot to the other. Her toes flexed against the floor, still numb, her hands hanging loosely in front of her.
When I reached down, she lifted them for me, wrists turned upward in quiet surrender.
“I’m way shorter without those heels,” she said, a faint laugh escaping her.
“You’re fine,” I told her, smiling. “You’re the perfect height.”
She was. Even in the five-and-a-half-inch heels, she barely reached five-nine. I could wear something half that and still meet her eyes.
The cuffs clicked open. I set them on the counter, then crossed to the small box and took out the magnet.
“Let’s get you out of that collar,” I said.
She didn’t answer right away. Just stood there—breathing softly, head tilted slightly down. Her fingers almost brushed the edge of the steel at her throat, but then she stopped.
When I stepped closer, she gave a tiny shake of her head—almost imperceptible—and her hand came up, as if to steady the collar, not me.
“I’m fine,” she said finally, the words too quick, too practiced.
“You’ve had it on all night,” I told her gently. “You’ve got to be tired of it.”
She shrugged, eyes still lowered, thumb figuratively tracing the line of the metal against her skin. A small, secret smile tugged at her lips.
“Maybe it just makes me used to it,” she murmured.
Her gaze lifted then—bright, knowing.
“Everyone seemed to like it,” she added. “They couldn’t take their eyes off it.”
She wasn’t wrong. They’d stared—especially the waitress, who’d had the best view of it. The cuffs already screamed dangerous—something Susan and I had learned firsthand. But the collar ... the collar made it all scream freak.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Lots of stares.”
But she only smiled—slow, deliberate—and let her fingers almost rest on the collar again, as if she were afraid it might disappear, while at the same time, not daring to touch it.
“It was fine,” she said with a small smile. “I felt safe.”
I looked at her. “You felt safe with us?”
She nodded slowly, glancing toward Susan.
“Why wouldn’t I?” she said, looking more serious. “It’s what I told you the other day. You guys don’t make any of this weird. It ... it just feels normal.”
“Being dressed up like this...” she looked down, “ ... all chained up ... you made it feel like it was okay to be that way.”
“And I saw how you handled that woman,” she added.
She meant Megan. And Leslie—the other one.
We’d run into them downtown. Even with the thunderstorms, the little shops were buzzing. New boutiques were popping up everywhere, and people like Megan and her friends loved wandering through them, poking at everything and acting like they owned the place. They had the money for it.
And of course they had to make their opinions known. Especially Megan.
And I wasn’t in the mood. I just wanted to be in the moment—to enjoy the night. I didn’t care about the stares or the whispers. I just wanted to enjoy the evening.
Susan was having a good time with Bobby.
It was nice. It was normal. Or at least, as normal as things ever got for us.
But Megan couldn’t leave it alone.
So, I put her and Leslie in their place.
I probably shouldn’t have. But I wasn’t going to tolerate it.
In the quiet pause, Bambi bit her lip.
“Are ... are you going to take Susan’s restraints off?” she asked softly.
Right on cue, Susan walked over and knelt on the chair. I removed the leg cuffs, helped her to her feet, and handed them to her.
“You’re not taking the rest off?” Bambi asked.
“No,” I said. “Susan’s only out of her cuffs at designated times.”
“The leg cuffs come off so she doesn’t fall on the stairs,” I added, “otherwise, they stay on.”
“It’s for the best,” I told Bambi.
She looked at me and nodded slowly, her expression unreadable.
“We were told we should treat being in these like the real thing,” Susan said, her lips twitching into a faint smile at Bambi. “Like being an actual prisoner, and having to stay in them for everyone’s safety.”
“So, Anne’s really strict,” she added, voice low. “She treats me like I have to wear them. No exceptions. Doesn’t matter how much I fuss or complain.”
I killed the lights, and we started up the stairs.
I handed Bambi her heels.
Susan glanced at me and then at the cuffs on the counter. Her eyes flicked around the upstairs apartment. She knew we kept this set downstairs in the box behind the counter, but it was clear she wanted me to bring them along. So, I picked up all the chains, cuffs, and padlocks.
Bambi went first, moving carefully on her stockinged feet. Susan stayed close behind. I followed last, cuffs in hand.
I placed the restraints on the kitchen counter, then took Bambi’s heels and put them beside the cuffs.
“This is really nice,” Bambi said.
“Thanks,” I replied. “Just big enough for the two of us.”
“It’s nice,” she said again nodding. “I’d live here.”
I smiled.
“Have a seat, Bambi,” Susan said. “Anne’s going to get me out of these so I can get ready for bed. Then we can talk, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Bambi plopped down on the couch and leaned back.
I took Susan into her bedroom and quickly removed her restraints, dropping them all to the floor before gathering them and placing them neatly on her dresser.
I looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“She can’t drive home,” Susan said calmly. “You know that.”
“And she’s safe here,” I said. “Tomorrow, we’ll make sure she’s okay and send her home.”
Susan shrugged. “And ... maybe.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that.”
“She obviously likes you ... Lady Anne,” she said with a smile. “And I know you like her.”
“You just stared at her all during dinner,” she added. “And for the walk in the park, you stayed beside her the entire time.”
“And you threatened Megan when she started making fun of Bambi,” she continued.
I clenched my jaw. “She was being cruel to you again.”
“Yeah, she was,” Susan admitted. “But when she went after Bambi—”
I didn’t meet her eyes. She was right. I didn’t know what came over me—but when Megan mocked Bambi and her collar, I—
“I know,” I said cutting her off. “I shouldn’t have done that. Not that.”
“She’ll let it go,” Susan said. “She knows we’d never say anything.”
I nodded.
“I’ll go change into my PJs, and you get me into the canvas jacket. Then we can sit and talk.”
“Fine,” I said. “Why not the leather one? It fits so much better.”
She smiled. Then I realized what she was thinking.
“No!” I told her.
She shrugged. “Fine. But if she brings it up, it’s fair game.”
Susan turned and disappeared into the bathroom to change.
I walked back to check on Bambi, who was still lounging on the couch.
“Did you want anything to drink?” I asked. “I can make some coffee.”
“No, I’m good. Thank you,” she said. “I don’t think drinking is really my thing.”
I smiled and stepped back into the bedroom, where Susan was sitting on her bed. Pulling the canvas jacket from the bag Andrew had given us, I began buckling her in.
I had to give her a firm jerk to get her properly positioned in the jacket. Putting Susan back into this one made me appreciate all the thought Andrew had put into the other one—he had really thought it through. He had genuinely thought about Susan.
As I tugged, Susan just smiled at me. I knew her mind was on Bambi, not resisting as I secured her completely.
I then worked the cuffs around her biceps and ankles. I tightened the ankle cuffs to the smallest hole, forcing her to hobble out of the bedroom.
“Oh my God,” Bambi said. “That’s so sexy.” She blurted it out before she could stop herself. “Even sexier than the cuffs.”
“So ... you think this is sexy?” Susan asked, glancing at me.
“Uh ... yeah,” Bambi replied. “And super cute in those PJs,” she added with a shy grin.
“So ... you sleep like that?” she pressed.
Susan nodded. “Yeah ... well, my leather one.” She added, “It’s way more comfortable than the cuffs.”
I looked at her.
“Wait ... you have a leather one?” Bambi asked, eyes widening.
“Uh-huh,” Susan said. “That one’s really tight. Like ... you can’t move at all, tight.”
“So ... you can’t move at all in that?” Bambi asked, eyeing the jacket and the leather cuffs.
“I can move just a little in this one,” Susan struggled, demonstrating. “Maybe an inch. But in the other one ... yeah ... basically zero.”
“Wow,” Bambi said, impressed. “So, it’s comfortable.”
Susan nodded. “Very.”
Bambi just stared at the jacket. I subtly shook my head at Susan, but she did it anyway.
“I think the leather one will fit you,” Susan said. “Do you want to try it on?”
“I didn’t bring any PJs,” Bambi said hesitantly.
“You don’t need them,” Susan replied. “You’re in a bra and panties under that ... pantyhose?”
Bambi nodded. “Garter and stockings, but yeah.”
“That works,” Susan said. “The jacket’s fully lined with lambskin leather, so it’s really soft.”
She paused, then added, “But ... it has a built-in collar that connects to the muzzle. So ... you’ll need to be taken out of the collar first.”
Bambi hesitated, looking at me.
“Muzzle?” she then asked.
“Yeah,” Susan replied casually. “This jacket has one too. Helps keep you quiet during ... certain activities.”
Bambi’s eyes went wide.
She nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Bambi looked at me again, her eyes wide.
“Okay,” she said again, this time quieter. “You ... you can take off the collar if ... you know ... if you want.”
I glanced at Susan, my eyes wide and eyebrows raised.
She had this look of surprise, though it was clearly faked, and then there was the faintest flicker of amusement dancing behind her eyes.
“Anne,” she told me with a small smile, “why don’t you run down and get the key?”
I gave Susan that look and then got up, heading downstairs to fetch it.
I returned with the box a minute later, and Bambi and Susan were walking out of the bedroom, Bambi carrying the bag.
“Wow, this bag’s heavy,” Bambi remarked.
“The jacket’s got some weight to it,” Susan replied.
She smiled and added, “Designed to be lying down, I guess.”
I opened the box and pulled out the magnet, holding it under the collar. I moved it around a little—nothing. Trying again, it finally popped open.
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