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Grounds For Restraint
by K. L. Melvany

Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: Bound and loving it! If you like your hot, hetero, BDSM then this tale of domination and submission is the perfect book for you!
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: June 2011

eBookeBook

Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [159 KB]
Words: 34271
Reading time: 97-137 min.


Portland, Oregon of the 1950s was quite a different place from the progressive, counter-culture city it is today. It has always been a clean, green city; due to the six months of rain it gets a year. The river has long been navigable by ocean traffic, giving the town the faintest whiff of cosmopolitanism. But there was a good reason for its old reputation as the "Boston of the Pacific Northwest." Even then, it had a fine public library system, a good art museum, and a symphony orchestra, but it also had a very conservative, Puritanical streak. There was a dearth of decent restaurants in town, as there had been no money in it because one couldn't buy a drink except at a "club". Of course, you could buy a whole bottle at a state-run liquor store, take it home or to your "club" and get sloshed, but no matter.

Brent Tanner had come to this town from Chicago some years ago to attend a notoriously intellectual college and had dropped out in his junior year. After that, he wrote ad copy for a radio station in Pendleton (known for woolens and the annual rodeo), and a couple more. With a partner, he put a little 250 watt radio station on the air in Jerome, Idaho. At last, overwhelmed by the plurality of rurality, he sold out to his partner, and returned to Portland. He began to announce for the local classical FM music station and hoard his funds for an uncertain future, until he had a breakthrough one night after work.

Brent had traveled around in his youth to cities like San Francisco and Los Angeles, and he was struck with the quality of the coffeehouses there. Walking home from his shift, he found himself wishing that he could find one in his home city of Portland, but he knew that not a single one existed. He thought about his savings. He was naturally cautious with his money (and even more so with women), but he was fairly confident that a good coffee shop would work in this city.

Without giving up his radio gig, he rented a shop on southwest Sixth Avenue, under some low rent apartments. The two-story frame structure had been built about 1911. The shop had two large show windows on the street, with another narrower pair angling in to the recessed door. It was one large space with a sink and toilet in a closet. He had a contractor wall off the back quarter; divide that in half, putting two small bathrooms on one side and a kitchen on the other. Pleated burlap was stapled to the new wall to dampen the sound. Tanner liked the coffered tin ceiling and kept it, but he had black and white tile installed on the floor. The two sidewalls were white, each unadorned save for one large, carefully selected Italian travel poster. The windows that ran from just above the floor nearly to the twelve foot ceiling were covered with wooden jalousies, shutters with adjustable louvers that when closed lent an air of elegantly opaque mystery to the place.

There was a curved, marble-topped counter, semi-sealing the open kitchen doorway from the customers. Here, he would eventually place the tall, cylindrical espresso machine, essentially a vertical brass and nickel-steel boiler with valve handles and a pressure gauge, all capped by a gleaming hemispherical dome on which perched a wings-spread eagle, seemingly shrieking.

Tanner sometimes felt like that shrieking eagle when he dealt with City Hall. First there were the health codes, which was why there had to be two toilets (men's and women's), three sinks (wash, rinse, disinfect), and the water had to be a hundred and eighty degrees. There were fire codes that regulated the number of occupants and placement of extinguishers. Fortunately, he would be serving only coffees, teas, pastries, and cold sandwiches, none of which required a stove, and eliminated ducting and automated fire-suppression systems.


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