From "The Customer's Waiting" written by Giselle Renarde. It is part of an anthology titled "Twisted: Bondage With an Edge," edited by Alison Tyler. It is reprinted with permission from Cleis Press. This excerpt is sponsored by LELO.

I picked one up, and Levy shot me a look like she didn’t want me touching her stuff. I didn’t mind those looks. She gave them to me all the time. I didn’t even care if she didn’t like me yet, because I knew she would, in time. Most people didn’t like me at first. It took a little while, but I won them over with subtle charm.

Waving the smaller massager at Levy, I asked, "What’s the deal with this thing? Did a customer return it?"

"No," Levy scoffed. "We don’t accept returns on stuff like that. Didn’t you read the employee manual?"

I shrugged again, hiding my smile. She was so mean to me and I loved it, because it was the meanness of an eight-year-old pulling a little girl’s pigtails. Levy liked me and didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself. When I put the massager back on her desk, she told me the products were for her own "personal interest."

I couldn’t have asked for better fodder for teasing. "Oh, so that’s why you work such long hours, huh? Management thinks you’re so industrious, but really you’re just sitting down here with your pants around your ankles."

"Shut up," she said, turning her back on me. She fished through her cubbyholes full of screws and packing materials until she found what she was looking for. When she turned to face me, Levy had a packet of cable ties in hand.

I’d broken her. She would top me. I’d finally won.

"Stand against the cage if you’re so clever," Levy said. "Feet apart, arms in the air. Like a snow angel."

I felt giddy as I got into position, spreading my legs for her. When she came close to me, I could smell the basement on her clothing. Damp and concrete dust. It made me want to sneeze, but I held it in. Levy probably didn’t want my spit and snot all over her.

She bound me to the cage with a series of cable ties—down one arm, down the other. She put them on over my silky blouse so I could feel the pressure of them against my wrist, my forearm, my elbow, but the plastic wasn’t biting into my skin. That was a nice touch. She bound my ankles to the cage as well, and when it occurred to me that I was trapped, my heart began to race.

"Thank you," I said.

"I haven’t done anything yet."

"You have no idea…"

Levy went to her desk and picked up the wand. It was one of those Hitachi doodads. I’d never actually used one. She plugged it into an extension cord and thumped toward me. Her cage was built on a raised wooden platform, and every step boomed through the basement.

"So this is what you want, eh?" Levy tapped the massager against her palm like a baseball bat. The end was bulbous and rounded; no way could it fit in my pussy. Way too big. I tried to close my legs, but of course they were secured with cable ties.

When I didn’t answer, Levy asked, "If I do this, will you finally stop coming down here and making googly eyes at me?"

I smiled and bit my bottom lip.

"Well?"

"No," I said. "I’ll keep coming back. I like you too much."

She rolled her eyes and sort of said, "Pfft," but I saw a grin on her lips. She wanted me. She loved the sight of me strung up against her cage, helpless, just waiting for her to do whatever she wanted.

That big toy in her hand buzzed to life, emitting a low hum. I felt all squirmy inside, but I couldn’t squirm. I was stuck to the cage. My knees felt weak, but I bolstered my legs, planting my heels hard into the ground. If I let them go, I’d be strung up by my arms and the cable ties would cut my skin right through my shirt.