Kelly

The bell above the door chimed softly, announcing Kelly's arrival. Taking a deep breathe to calm herself she walked inside the bondage and fetish store. She clutched the strap of her tote bag, knuckles white, as her eyes darted around the dimly lit shop. The air smelled of leather and something sweet, like incense. Heat flooded her cheeks as she took in the mannequins clad in intricate latex and lace, displays of gleaming metal restraints catching the low light. Each step towards the clothing racks felt monumental. Her flip-flops slapped quietly against the polished concrete floor, the sound unnaturally loud in the hushed atmosphere. She avoided the gaze of the pierced woman behind the counter, focusing instead on a wall of hosiery. Reaching the rack, she let her fingers brush tentatively against a PVC dress, its cool smoothness sending a shiver down her spine. She could feel your eyes upon her, but she didnt want to turn or look at you. Submissives weren't supposed to presume they were suposed to allow the Dominant to approach. At least thats how it works in her fantasies.