Author's Note: Unrealistic premise? Check. Unfathomably naive ‘victim’? Check. Tricksy sinister fetishist? Check. I do believe I have fulfilled the requirements for a fetish shop short story, and hopefully I did the trope some fresh justice. Dedicated to all the writers here who wrote the fun and sexy shop stories that were the inspiration for this one.
Rory Baker owned a fetish shop. It had been her favorite dream during her horny teenage years. Oh, to be surrounded on all sides by sensual and erotic clothing and toys! To share that heady pleasure with the blushing submissives and braggadocious dominants, to revel in shared naughtiness and unspeakable fantasies! Upon getting her first extracurricular job she had started saving up for it. When her other friends had started going to college or getting married, she had picked up another job and even started camming for that extra bit of money. Her parents did not approve of her intended line of work, so all she saved was all she got. Their excuse: besides being lewd and crude and completely sinful, it was a long shot, unfeasible, too risque and niche, especially for this part of the country. So, naturally, Rory had dedicated 100% of her spare income to dream no one else believed in.
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