The Bookstore, Ch. 7
Marie is left alone to clean his house - in shackles and ballgag
One hour later, Marie was feeling decidedly cranky. Her wrists were cuffed securely to her collar, held there by short lengths of chain, so that her hands dangled impotently at the level of her shoulders. Her ankles were hobbled by an 18-inch length of chain, enough slack that she could walk around, but only by taking ridiculous, mincingly short steps. And there was an uncomfortably large ball gag in her mouth, pulled cru...