Like the New Strip of Las Vegas, Lop-Lop was well-equipped with tunnels and skyways that allowed pedestrians to walk in carpeted comfort, avoiding the heat outside. Because of this, the sandals stayed in the room, and Marci walked barefoot to the restaurant. Barefoot and leashed, but not yet hobbled. Her shackles were stowed on her belt, waiting for her ankles.

Master Tiim’s leash clipped to her collar. “A handcuff-leash is more practical,” Master Tiim told Marci, “but I find a collar-leash more amusing.” So a collar-leash it was, for this trip.

Marci kept her hands carefully away from her collar. This was partly because her leash was only clipped in place and her inner imp felt a perverse desire to unclip it, but mostly because reaching for her throat would be taken as a sign of distress. Giving a false alarm would be rude.

In any case, it was only a temporary temptation. One of Master Tiim’s goals here in Lop-Lop was to buy a set of e-locks that would open with either his thumbprint or a key. With one of those attaching the leash to her collar, Marci would be able relax, knowing herself to be properly secured.

When they reached the restaurant’s entrance, Master Tiim unhooked the leash and handed Marci a key. Obeying his wordless command, she hobbled her ankles. By parallel evolution, bisnik leg-irons were very close in design to the human-invented version, closing with a ratchet around the gold-fabric cuffs until Marci locked them in place. The connecting chain of these shackles had a second chain attached in the middle. This chain ran up to her belt, keeping the first chain from dragging.

Marci returned her master’s key just as silently as she received it. Then the table guide nodded for them to follow. The hobbling chain was a few centimeters longer than on her other shackles, but it still forced Marci to take short steps. As she walked slowly behind the table guide, she was aware of many eyes on her. Curious eyes. Admiring eyes. Approving eyes. Master Tiim followed behind, giving her an occasional reassuring touch.

Wallaac and Toory were already at the table. They both rose to greet Master Tiim, with Wallaac and Tiim exchanging hearty backslaps, and Toory offering her hand for a more subdued and gentlemanly welcome. Master Tiim then made the introductions, “Wallaac, Toory, this is Human Woman Marci Gotz, who is now my Slave Marci…” Marci made her chained curtsey and they all sat down.

“Welcome,” Wallaac told Marci. “I wish you a long stay.”