Restraint Salon Author: Pixiv

Word count: 53065

1. The Incredible Coffee Shop

To this day, I've maintained the image of a so-called meaningful "good child."

They neither had excessive expectations of me nor neglected me; they were truly good parents.

Neither crises nor poverty occurred; every day was completely free of ups and downs.

I'm truly grateful that things have remained peaceful until now.

Children caught in the vortex of divorce turmoil, children who ran away from home and went missing, children who died in traffic accidents—

those major life setbacks have completely avoided me.

Speaking of which, other things like being naturally gloomy and eating alone in the bathroom, or burying myself in sports every day—none of those have happened.

I spend every day with compatible friends, like a heartwarming four-panel comic. (n: Is the subtext "My chuunibyou is about to flare up"?)

However, since childhood, I've occasionally experienced uncontrollable impulses.

I think everyone has had those.

When discussing where to go after school, Naoko, who rarely voices her opinions, becomes quite talkative as soon as she gets close to 31. Or, once the conversation starts, Mina-chan can't stop talking about BL topics.

I've long enjoyed things like that as a legitimate excuse, within my own limits.

In summer swimming lessons, I'd say I forgot my swim cap and go back to the classroom in my swimsuit to get it, or when I went to the convenience store, I'd wear almost zero-length twill hot pants with slightly longer knee-high socks under my clothes, enjoying the exposure of my chest being covered by a 5cm wide band while my thighs were bare. (n: This girl is a tough character from the start...)

Until one day, I accidentally found [⌒束莎劉] online. (n: Is the female lead even 18? If
not, I'll feel guilty.)

This incredible word stirred my heart.

The photos on the website didn't contain any of the erotic content I imagined based on the name.

The photos show a bright shop, much like a cat cafe, with restraint props scattered throughout.

And by all accounts, they exude an artistic atmosphere.

There are exquisitely tailored leather bodysuits, perfectly accentuating a woman's beautiful curves, proudly adorned with rivets forged from precious metals.

There are also collars made of leather so thick they seem uncut, possessing both sturdiness and elegance once the skin adapts.

Antique restraint props are also on display, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of a corner of a museum or university archive, without a trace of lewdness. (n: Pshaw, m would be aroused if she saw this…) Upon closer inspection,
it's not a "restraint salon," but a "restraint cafe."

Why call it a "salon"?

For a typical website, just browsing would be enough, so I clicked the access bar and leaned out to examine the map.

It was next to the bustling, fashionable street near the station on my way to school, a place listed in online reviews for many famous shops, yet far removed from the busy districts filled with cluttered and sleazy adult stores.

Perhaps there was some hope.

Finally, one day I made up my mind and got off the train (to go there).

Located on the first floor of a modern complex, it had a bright, large-area glass structure; if you didn't read the entrance notice carefully, someone without any interest could easily wander in.

Because of the excellent visibility, I approached the glass slightly, as if asking for directions, to observe what was inside.

I could see customers who seemed to be businessmen conversing, as well as housewives who looked like they were rushing home to prepare dinner.

I also noticed two female university students, seemingly traveling together, peeking out from across the window, then laughing as if they'd noticed something.

Seeing them in their (student) uniforms observing the store so closely (from outside) did seem suspicious, so I took a deep breath and went through the automatic door.

"Welcome." The restaurant, decorated in a white, Scandinavian style, had about 15 or 16 tables, with restraint props displayed in transparent cases.

About three women working as servers in the lobby approached.

The woman in front greeted me.

It wasn't the cold, impersonal tone common in large corporations' franchise stores, but rather a greeting I hadn't experienced in many years— 　　a greeting imbued with the
weight of a seasoned employee or family business owner . 　　"Are you alone?" "Ah, yes..." Even with my uniform, she remained unfazed, smiling broadly as she led the way. (Note: Leading the way is against the rules for minors.) 　　That was the first time I noticed the servers' uniforms. 　　I was expecting ordinary attire, but I was captivated by the vibrant colors. Everyone wore tight-fitting leather jackets covering their legs and necks, and tall leather boots with heels easily exceeding 10 centimeters. 　　Each of the three wore a single-color leather jacket in red, blue, and yellow. (n: Teletubbies or similar children's shows...) 　　Then, the cuffs of the coat had thick leather shackles of the same color, and the ankles of the tall leather boots also had the same shackles. The necks of the coats were also fitted with collars of the same size, each secured with a padlock. 　　The woman who came to introduce the coat wore a bright red leather coat. Upon closer inspection, wrinkles from years of wear were visible everywhere, and the leather made a faint "creaking" sound with her movements. 　　It was quite thick leather. 　　She had very refined features, was a beauty, and had vibrant, waist-length black hair. This bizarre 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　outfit 　　would have been quite suitable for a kimono cosplay. (n: bizarre is often associated with fetish, or you could say it's grotesque.) 　　Her delicate, fair skin, bold red lipstick, and bright red leather coat contrasted beautifully with her loosely flowing black hair. 　　With each step she took, the five padlocks on her leather shackles jingled softly. 　　Wow, her legs and waist were so thin! 　　Her buttocks were especially pert! 　　Oh, and her breasts were huge! (n: Pfft, that's hilarious.) 　　Standing before me in that bizarre attire, the ruffled apron around her waist, while still functional, lacked a sense of everyday balance. The 　　white ruffled hair accessory she wore was the same design, creating a strange leather maid style. 　　The hair accessory, like a wide headband, weighed down her hair, leaving only a few strands at her forehead (n: chubby girl?).

However, her hair at the back was far too long, swaying wildly.

As I was led to my seat, the shimmering black stockings swaying before my eyes captivated me.
"Excuse me, is this alright?"

She led me to a small table against the wall with a sofa and two chairs.

"Okay." I was guided to sit on the sofa against the wall.

"Please let me know if you've decided," the woman said, handing me the menu.

The menu was unremarkable, just like any other ordinary café.

I'd expected a place like this to be extremely expensive, but it wasn't.

Finally calming down, I looked around. Next to me sat a student like myself, browsing a forum on her laptop.

There was another woman, judging from her clothing, who seemed like a typical office lady; her appearance didn't suggest she'd specifically chosen this place.

Across from her were two male customers chatting.

They seemed to be just visiting a regular café.

Or perhaps, at night, those two transform into a dangerous relationship?

A fat specialist x a bald specialist? Disgusting. I'm not Meicai Jiang.

At the table opposite, there are three punk-style male customers; they must have come after seeing the leather news online.

In a sense, these are the proper customers here.

This time, I'm looking in the opposite direction.

The two college-girl-like women from before came in, laughing and whispering to each other.

They were each

wearing leather collars, chained to their chairs.

"Oh dear!" "Wait, have you decided? I'll have one too!" "So embarrassing…!" "It's not just for fun. Everyone does it (for that)." "Yeah." Ah! They've put on collars!

Suddenly, I turn my gaze back to the office lady from before; she's also casually sipping her coffee while putting on a collar!

The chain extends from the back of the sofa.

It's so natural that I didn't notice it at first.

Ha! Upon realizing this, I nervously turned my neck to look behind the sofa I was sitting on. In the space between my back and the wall, where there would normally be room for vases and other decorations, sat an inconspicuous collar, chained to the wall.

How do I use this?

Just raising my hand to ask a female server to explain, and having it overheard, was embarrassing enough. I hurriedly flipped through the menu.

Then, on the last page, near the collar pictured, was a line that read: "Women wearing the collar during their purchase receive a 500 yen discount at checkout!!" (n: Isn't that offensive enough?)

Oh, I see.

The lady next to me is drinking something like a mixed flavor. Hmm, it's 550 yen, so a 500 yen discount... 50 yen!? (n: Is this a test of my shame? If this were in China...
I might go bankrupt immediately!)

The hot cocoa I want, 600 yen minus a 500 yen discount... 100 yen?
But, to enter a place like this alone in a uniform, and with a collar on...?

Sweat beaded on my hands as I gripped the menu.

I glanced at the female college student from earlier; both of them were sipping coffee, their faces flushed. They

probably couldn't even taste the coffee properly.

Then I looked at the office lady next to me, who had been intently typing away on her laptop for a while, then suddenly shut it down with a "pop," quickly removed her collar, grabbed the receipt, and left her seat.
So cool!!

I wish I could be so nonchalant about putting on and taking off my clothes like that.

Well, let's order first.

≠ Starting.

"Have you decided?"

"C-Cocoa!" A woman approached with a beaming smile.

As she tilted her head slightly, her long black hair cascaded down one shoulder with a soft rustling sound.
"I want cocoa!" "Hot or with ice cream?" "Hot!" "Understood." As she bent over, her breasts, tightly wrapped in a red leather jacket, swayed back and forth. (n: Why does the girl use such a lewd
look? Old man's eyes!)

"Um..."

"Yes?"

"This, this collar, is there a 500 yen discount?"

"Ah, ah, I'll probably wear it during the meal." "Won't there be customers who just wear it for a second or two to save money?"

"Yes, you're still welcome. Of course, many people put it on and immediately take it off. However, there are no disputes about the discount." "Ah, I see..." "Would you like to try it?"

"Eh! Ah... ah, I'm considering it." "But it suits you very well, that collar." (n: Is this a universal scam? Anyone who's willing will fall for it, like the female lead.)

Looking down at me, blushing and looking down, the woman left without forcing a recommendation.

Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I

continued to observe my surroundings. Just like in the cat cafe, where you can not only drink beverages, here everyone was also drinking and pointing at the restraint props displayed everywhere, chatting and laughing.

I looked at the nearest exhibit.

There was something resembling a metal loincloth inside a 50cm square plastic box.

"Women's Chastity Belt Manufactured by German company M"

[Stainless steel, approximately 1.5mm thick;

uses belt and shield accessories from company N to create various variations;

very inexpensive, and available in brightly colored straps; the best value among modern chastity belts.] Wow, a perfect chastity belt! So practical! It must be about how to wear it.
Underneath that padlock-like thing is…

that hole… for peeing?

And then, the hole for pooping…?

Hmm?

"Sorry to keep you waiting." "Ah—whoa!?"

My mind was racing when I was suddenly called out, so I made a strange sound.

"Your cocoa.

" "Ah, that's…" The woman in the bright red leather coat placed the cocoa in front of me, inserted the leather token beside it, and immediately left.

It's unbelievable that there's no steam at all, even though it's hot. I thought to myself as I sipped the cup.
At the perfect temperature for the whipped cream to float, the cocoa liquor was perfectly covered by the layer of cream.

As the cup tilted, the fragrant cocoa and richly sweet cream blended perfectly, flowing onto my tongue.

It would need to be warmer in the dead of winter, but this was just right for the season.

Delicious.

With a "click," I returned the cup to the table, glancing around again. There were no sleazy customers looking to see me suffer, nor any stares expecting me to put on the collar.

This was immediately apparent in a cat café.

Nobody sits still watching others play with cats; how you spend a happy time with the cats is what matters most, otherwise there's no point in coming.

I mentally justified myself, "Since I'm here for fun, everyone has their own reasons," trying to articulate the reasoning in my head. With a slightly confused and shy expression, I awkwardly put on the collar.

Turning around, I glanced at the female staff member who had been cleaning up where the office lady had been.

After cleaning the table, she carefully wiped the collar and chair back with something like antibacterial wipes.

In other words, she disinfected them each time.

However, if it's a women's collar, then the only things that come into contact with the skin are probably foundation and the like.

The inner leather surface of a regular dog collar is basically unprocessed and quite rough; but is this collar specially made for this purpose, coated with a tanned plastic layer? With this coating, the surface in contact with the skin becomes much easier to clean. I

swallowed hard.

Holding the collar, after making sure no one was watching, I slowly began to bring it closer to my neck.
The chain rattled as it was pulled, startling me, but no one looked over. Calming

myself down a bit, I carefully looped it around my neck, clicking the buckle through the smallest diameter eyelet.

First, I passed it through the D-ring's hole, allowing the front of the belt to pass smoothly, then a little further on, through the small leather loop.

It's the same construction as a regular belt or a cat/dog collar.

Oops, it's too tight.

I slipped my fingers into the collar and pulled them out a little, regaining some calm.

But my throat still felt a bit tight when I drank the cocoa.

I hugged the cup with both hands, savoring the same warmth and pleasure as before, when suddenly I closed my eyes.
I remembered my past—running between the classroom and the pool in just a swimsuit, often daring to wear revealing
clothes, preferring going to the pool to swimming to lying on a lounge chair, and so on. Something was wrong.
A sweet feeling began to seep from the depths of my heart, my mood as free as a trolley.
(n: This aptitude is excellent for an m…)

I suddenly opened my eyes.

I naturally felt the gazes coming from the female college student's seat and the other customers' seats.
But none of these gazes were lewd, and everyone at the businessman's and punk's seats was looking at each other, like the shop's exhibits were looking at each other with the same gaze.

I felt that everyone else seemed a little ashamed of observing each other.

You might have strange feelings, but I didn't.

If I reduced my excessive curiosity and concern for saving face a little, it would be much easier.

Ignoring the clattering of the chains, I leaned back on the sofa and brought the cup to my lips again.

Suddenly, I glanced out the window.

Ah, those kids from before, observing the children through the window just like me. (n: Isn't that like those guys selling aphrodisiacs next to the elementary school? Damn, at least they have curtains.)

Yes, staring at my collar!

Yes.

Realizing the gazes piercing my collar through the windows, my throat tightened.

Yes.

Come in here, and you can experience what it's like to wear a collar too.

That swimsuit thing resurfaced in my mind.

Suddenly being seen by students from other classes, especially boys, and using the plausible excuse of "I forgot my swim cap, so I couldn't,"
while walking back and forth between classrooms draped in a towel and wearing round swimming shoes, that incredible moment of pleasure?

Yes, what I seek is forgiveness even for slightly exposing myself, because I have a legitimate reason for innocence.

Would I like wearing a collar in a space like this coffee shop, where I wouldn't be considered a pervert?
No, it's just something I can do at home.

I want to be seen.

Not with contemptuous gazes, but bathed in resonant gazes.

Sigh.

My wanton gaze returned to the cup; seeing the remaining cocoa, I continued sipping it with a hint of regret.

Suddenly, something bright red squeezed into the corner of my eye, and I quickly bent over.

"Excuse me."

"Ah…"

I stared blankly at the waitress.

She picked up the receipt, took out a red magic stamp from her apron pocket, pressed a red circle imprint firmly onto it, and returned it.

"Hehe, you really are a perfect match." (n: Is this brainwashing?)

"Wait, I feel like..." I felt like my innermost thoughts had been seen through, and I lowered my head, my face flushed. 　　Trying
to hide it, I started sucking on the remaining cocoa.

I sighed and looked out the window; there was no one there anymore. 　Only about two sips of cocoa remained. 　　I glanced around the shop and noticed someone staring at me. 　　A beautiful woman in her early twenties was also wearing a collar. 　　She didn't seem to mind my gaze, but it wasn't on my face; it was on my collar. 　　I suddenly felt embarrassed and started finishing the cream on my cocoa. 　　Only the tea-colored and white foam residue remained at the bottom of the cup, constantly splitting and gradually becoming clearer. 　　Then I quietly looked up; that person was gone. It 　　was over. 　　But I was still very excited. 　　After wiping the foam from my mouth with a napkin from the table, I hooked my fingers onto the collar. With 　　a "click-clack," I unbuckled the belt and metal buckle, and with a slight sense of regret, removed the collar. 　　The leather of the collar still retained warmth, but once removed, sweat began to trickle down my neck, feeling strangely cool.

I put the collar back on the sofa and grabbed my bag, handing the receipt to the cashier.

I glanced at the receipt and noticed a red circle around the section that read "[-500]".

"Thank you so much!" I was noticed as I stood up, and the same female cashier in the bright red leather jacket came over from further down the floor to greet me, then hurried to the cashier. She

took the receipt from me and printed out the barcode for the bill.

Using the buttons, the payment section displayed "Special Charge: -500".

"Total: 100 yen." With a clink, a 100-yen coin was placed in the tray.

"But is it really okay? I just wore that collar for a bit... I didn't make much money, did I?" "Hehe, everyone says that. But anyway, the 500 yen discount only applies to your meal, men don't get the discount. A lot of people like to look at women like that. So it has the effect of attracting customers..." "But, nobody looked..." "No, nobody did. Because people don't want to give a rude look when others are enjoying themselves, they actually did look closely." "Is that so? Ah, if that's the case..." So I lowered my voice slightly and moved closer to the woman's face.

"There was someone quietly looking at me. Although it was for a very short time."

The waitress laughed.

"You want to know the reason?"

"Hmm, there must be a reason?"

"It would take about an hour to explain to you. But before that, do you have a skill or private tutoring class, or do you have something urgent to do?"

"Eh? So much time... that's quite a lot. If I go home right after, I'll have plenty of time.
But if I take a detour with friends, it'll be a little later." "Did you specifically decline your friends to come here later?" "

Hmm, hmm..." "Hmm, then please turn to this showroom." "Oh, are there other rooms?"

"Regular customers aren't taken in."

2. The Secret Room

Guided by this woman, we headed deeper into the counter area.

Unexpectedly, in the brightly lit shop, the entrance near the cashier, separated by a wall, was incredibly dark. It

took quite a while for my eyes to adjust.

Inside was a room in the style of an old Western-style mansion, about ten tatami mats in size.

The light from the coffee shop outside, the sounds of people talking, everything... all these sounds...

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Restraint Salon Author: Pixiv

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