Leather, wine and sex

The store front is on a busy street and the atmosphere is chic. The soft scent of fine leather fills the air — jackets, coats, skirts, dresses, pants, and the like. Beautiful people greet you with an offer of water or tea as you browse. They are quick to offer an opinion or search for your size but mostly they leave you to enjoy the smells and textures. If you know your way you can get to the back from there, but I prefer the entrance off the back alley. With no presumption of chic, the entrance is simple with barred windows clouded by the dirt of the city on each side. 

Closing the door behind us, we’re greeting by the overwhelming smell of leather; leather of the finest of quality — corsets, catsuits, bras, chaps, harnesses, collars, gowns, restraints, and other items that satisfy any discerning individual with a bit of a fetish. As I savour the hints of musk, earth, and tobacco I hear what comes across as almost a declaration, just loud enough for anyone listening to understand the intensions,

“This time, we are here for you.”

The young woman at the register looks up and smiles; then goes back to whatever she’s reading. There is no indication that anyone else cares. Leather lines the walls on racks and there are shelves here and there for smaller items, and I’m quite happy to simply wander around and enjoy the look and feel and smell. As I make my way over to Yvonne, she looks at me with a smile,

“Winston, I think I found something.”

She reaches into a bin on one of the shelves and presents a small piece of leather with four silver button snaps. I looked at it with some confusion.

“It’s a ball harness.”

“How exactly is that supposed to work?”

She smiles as she folds the leather and snaps both sides of what initially seemed to be a simple piece of leather and rests it in the palm of her hand. She giggles slightly at my expression.

“Oh it will be fun. Let me go pay for it. Be right back.”

We wander the store a little longer not interesting in anything else now that the seeds of anticipation have taken root. The smell of leather fades as we make our way to the street and decide to celebrate our new acquisition with a glass of wine. Arm in arm we head to one of our favourite places just a few blocks up the street. As we make our way down the stairs to the entrance below street level neither of us can remember how we found this place.

The atmosphere and décor is a combination of rich woods and fabric and leaves you with a feeling of sensuality, dark secrets and a history only spoken in whispers. We find ourselves seated at our favourite table off in the corner — we seem to be lucky that way. As we settle in adjusting coats and bags, we were greeted with a smile.

“So, what did you buy?”

“A ball harness”

“Oh, that is marvellous. Two glasses of red; California, right?”

She walks away not expecting an answer. As I watched her walk away, Yvonne has reached into her purse for the harness and starts inspecting it in more detail.

“I think you are going to have to work a little to get this on. I’m still debating whether I want to watch or be surprised once you do.”

“Can I see that?”

 As I play with it and inspect the leather closer, two glasses of wine are set in front of us.

“Oh, that is adorable. You definitely will have you shave your balls before you put it on”

“She makes a very good point. I’ll want your balls very smooth.”

 She smiles and leaves us to our planning. I raised my glass and Yvonne follows my lead.

“For you, I will shave my balls smooth, put on my new leather and present my balls for you to play with at your leisure”

“And for you, I will be waiting in my satin thong and my red and black corset. No heals. I’m feeling bohemian.

 The sound of crystal is barely audible.

W