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Description
‘Trust me.’ The Catharian purred. ‘It will drive him wild.’
Twisting to look over the ‘dress’ in the mirror Sirse gave a small uncomfortable shrug. The underlayers were certainly showy enough, Gus had show a tendency to like stockings, or so she had come to think so. And the ones she was wearing now were certainly seductive enough, though they lacked comfort. Something she made sure to let the tailor know, in a quick series of hand gestures.

‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that.’ The gray feline cocked an eyebrow, and reached into a pocket pulling out a small pad. ‘Here try this.’

With a nod of approval Sirse took the pad and began to scrawl out her response. Tearing the page off she passed the note back to the seamstress.

‘Ah.’ She smiled. ‘The manacles. They do take a little getting used to but trust me he will love you all the more when he sees them. Restraints like these, they drive men wild. They excite the imagination and all the fun things one can do in bed after the ceremony.’

Looking down at her wrists she arched an eye brow and fixed her gaze on the grinning feline.

‘Oh, come on.’ She smiled. ‘You wouldn’t have come here if you had not wanted something, special in mind for your night of glory.’

Head shaking, Sirse flipped open the notebook again and scribbled out another frantic note, almost breaking the pencil as she wrote before thrusting the page back. The feline’s eyes moved over the page, scanning each sentence before breaking out into an uncontrolled laugh that nearly doubled her over.

Sirse folded her arms, her ears tilting back in irritation.

‘S-sorry dear.’ The cathraian managed dabbing at her eyes. ‘Its – just… I, you are…well…’ She broke off gesturing.

Rolling her eyes Sirse’s senses prickled suddenly. Instinct drawing her attention to the large windows located in the front of the shop. For a second she swore she had seen a shadow, a large, tall, familiar shadow. Closing her eyes she flicked her ears to the door, swiveling like twin radar dishes she stilled her breathing and listened.

Silence. Slowly she counted down from thirty, ears straining to pick up any sound, her nostrils flared, drawing in deep breaths. She had gotten down to sixteen before the seamstress cleared her throat.

‘Is everything all right?’

With a huff, Sirse blew out a breath. The moment was gone, and with it so was any chance of locating the possible perpetrator. Though there were other ways to find out.

Turning her attention back to the seamstress she examined the silver manacles and scratched a note.

‘So you want to keep them after all?’

Sirse shot one last look at the front of the shop, then gave a curt nod.

'Wonderful, I will add them to your dress.'

Description
‘Trust me.’ The Catharian purred. ‘It will drive him wild.’
Twisting to look over the ‘dress’ in the mirror Sirse gave a small uncomfortable shrug. The underlayers were certainly showy enough, Gus had show a tendency to like stockings, or so she had come to think so. And the ones she was wearing now were certainly seductive enough, though they lacked comfort. Something she made sure to let the tailor know, in a quick series of hand gestures.

‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that.’ The gray feline cocked an eyebrow, and reached into a pocket pulling out a small pad. ‘Here try this.’

With a nod of approval Sirse took the pad and began to scrawl out her response. Tearing the page off she passed the note back to the seamstress.

‘Ah.’ She smiled. ‘The manacles. They do take a little getting used to but trust me he will love you all the more when he sees them. Restraints like these, they drive men wild. They excite the imagination and all the fun things one can do in bed after the ceremony.’

Looking down at her wrists she arched an eye brow and fixed her gaze on the grinning feline.

‘Oh, come on.’ She smiled. ‘You wouldn’t have come here if you had not wanted something, special in mind for your night of glory.’

Head shaking, Sirse flipped open the notebook again and scribbled out another frantic note, almost breaking the pencil as she wrote before thrusting the page back. The feline’s eyes moved over the page, scanning each sentence before breaking out into an uncontrolled laugh that nearly doubled her over.

Sirse folded her arms, her ears tilting back in irritation.

‘S-sorry dear.’ The cathraian managed dabbing at her eyes. ‘Its – just… I, you are…well…’ She broke off gesturing.

Rolling her eyes Sirse’s senses prickled suddenly. Instinct drawing her attention to the large windows located in the front of the shop. For a second she swore she had seen a shadow, a large, tall, familiar shadow. Closing her eyes she flicked her ears to the door, swiveling like twin radar dishes she stilled her breathing and listened.

Silence. Slowly she counted down from thirty, ears straining to pick up any sound, her nostrils flared, drawing in deep breaths. She had gotten down to sixteen before the seamstress cleared her throat.

‘Is everything all right?’

With a huff, Sirse blew out a breath. The moment was gone, and with it so was any chance of locating the possible perpetrator. Though there were other ways to find out.

Turning her attention back to the seamstress she examined the silver manacles and scratched a note.

‘So you want to keep them after all?’

Sirse shot one last look at the front of the shop, then gave a curt nod.

'Wonderful, I will add them to your dress.'