The mall was not what Jack expected.
Back then, he'd never been allowed to browse. His trips with clients had been to... specialised stores. Back entrances. Places where the assistants brought the merchandise out to them, on trays. They'd drag him from shop to shop, buying suits, jewelry, toys, their shopping bags piling up in his hands. Sometimes they'd buy him something too: a ridiculous harness, a pair of lace panties, a new collar.
He remembered one businessman walking him into a side street and down into a discreet doorway.
"We'll have fun," the man had said, voice thick. The shop had smelled like latex and lubricant. Jack had stood there under the fluorescence while the man argued with a sales clerk about the right size of cuffs.
They'd put a mask on him for the walk back, "in ca
