Dog & Hoop is a boutique featuring sophisticated leather accoutrements.

Elegant obedience.

When there is no longer a need for buckles or locks.

Our products are designed so that your attention can remain focused on the task at hand. The snap fasteners provide both spontaneity and safety. Our bondage cuffs can be secured or released with ease in complete darkness. But rest assured, our fasteners are very secure.

Everything you see here is painstakingly hand-crafted by GoodBoy to your exact measurements. I adore watching his tail twitch when I enter the basement to inspect his work. He can be so enthusiastic when properly motivated.


Below is the history of our first encounter.

Tete-a-tete …

Mistress Minette –
I acquired GoodBoy at the Louvre.
He was staring intently at “The Death of Sardanapalus”.

I took note of his collar.

On the spur of the moment I decided to test what my sensibilities detected. He continued his examination of the painting as I approached him from the corner of the room. When I was in close proximity I stopped, unsnapped my purse and idly searched the contents within.

He looked over at me as I withdrew my hand and revealed the leash.
“Would you like to go for a walk?”
“Oui.” He responded and lifted his chin to expose his neck.
I secured the lead to the horseshoe-shaped ring hanging from his collar and turned around.
He followed.
“C’est un sage garçon!”

GoodBoy –
I worked one degrading job after another, each more humiliating than the last in an effort to find an environment that sated my desire to be controlled, reprimanded and diminished. There were an abundance of subterranean clubs in Paris that catered to these proclivities, but I had yet to find an occupation that would fill up the glaring hours of the day.

What I needed was an owner with reciprocal sensibilities.
Someone who possessed that certain… je ne sais quoi.
Someone I would jump through hoops for.

I walked over to the Delacroix exhibition at the Louvre. But his themes of the enslaved and their tyrannical rulers only fueled my rumination on the nature of servitude. I revisited my employment history, a litany of menial tasks in every conceivable industry. Salesman. Tailors apprentice. Dishwasher. Each endeavor managed to satisfy my submissive inclinations, but ultimately failed to exploit my accumulated skills and my desire to somehow put them to use.

I scratched at the stubble beneath my leather collar and absently felt my pulse. I was looking to fall in under the right command. There was a French locution to describe this missing attribute, but it escaped me.

My reverie was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps and when I glanced over, I discovered a woman holding a leash in her hand. I understood at once that my reply to her question would have profound repercussions. Her inquiry was also an invitation, an offer that would be binding in nature. The moment I heard the bolt snap shut around the ring of my collar, the phrase I had been searching for returned.

Mise en place.

I finally knew where I belonged.