Chapter Text
He had no idea how he’d been talked into this, he’d only come to watch Henry in the town sports day, a spectator cheering on his grandson that was the plan, but now he found himself with his good leg tied to the librarian at the start line of a adults three legged race.
They didn’t win of course, but Henry’s proud smile made up for the loss of dignity. As the crowd moved on to watch the next event Gold’s problems really began. Miss French, still laughing and breathless, bent at the waist to untie them. Gold averted his eyes from the tempting curve of her arse, but couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through him as her fingers brushed against his trouser leg while untying the knot. She straightened up, her face flushed and a smile on her lips.
“Thank you Mister Gold. I’m sorry I slowed you down.”
He was watching her run the cord through her fingers, it was hypnotic.
“I’m certain I was the dead weight, Miss French, but it made Henry happy.”
Her nimble fingers looped the cord into a perfect knot. He couldn’t drag his eyes away; a foggy image began to form in his mind that knot against his skin…
“Grandfather! Come the next race is starting!”
Gold hurriedly blinked away the image, he’d not thought about such things in years. He focused his full attention on his grandson.
“I’ll be there in a moment Henry.”
He gave Miss French a curt nod and limped away. Belle watched him go with a curious gaze.
The next week was torture for Gold. Every time he saw Miss French she was fiddling with a cord, working it into elaborate knots, threading it through her fingers, or winding it about her wrist. He told himself that she had no idea the effect her new habit was having on him, how could she, no one in town knew of his past indulgences. No matter how much he pushed the thoughts away that silken cord encroached into his waking and sleeping moments. He’d had more cold showers in the past week that he had since he was a teenager, (he’d spent a lot of time in another typically teenaged activity, but he was trying not to think about that). It was a passing phase, nothing but an old memory stirred up, it would pass.
As was his habit on Thursday he closed up the pawnshop and crossed the street to the library. He knew he’d see Miss French and she’d probably be playing with a cord again, but he determined to prove to himself that his fascination was fading.
Less than ten minutes later he rushed back into his shop, and with shaking hands pulled the bottle of scotch he kept for emergencies from the cupboard. He swore as he fumbled the cap free and drank a shot direct from the bottle. The spirit burned his throat making him gasp. Belle French had been sitting at the circulation desk reading a book on shibari. His face still felt hot from the blush that had risen on his face. He groaned as he recalled her cheeky smirk, his incoherent stammering and rapid departure. Way to go, Gold. He may as well have worn a sign declaring his kink to the world. He sobbed and took another slug from the bottle.
By Friday morning, after much coffee, Gold had come up with a plan. He would simply pretend the incident in the library had never happened. If Miss French ever brought it up he would say that he had suddenly felt ill. His carefully thought out plans did nothing to stop his stomach twisted into a knot as Miss French walked into his shop late in the afternoon. She glanced around to ensure the shop was empty apart from the two of them.
“Mister Gold. I would like to make a mutually beneficial deal with you.”
He felt sick, he should have expected this, but he’d never thought that Belle French of all people would try to blackmail him. He swallowed once and slid behind a mask of indifference.
“I doubt you have anything I want Miss French.”
A flash of uncertainty crossed her face, but she continued with; “I enjoy the art of shibari. I’m very good at it, but I don’t have anyone to tie.”
Gold blinked hard, he’d not been expecting that. It took him a moment to find his voice.
“Perhaps we could discuss this over dinner?”