Domination

The gym hadn’t opened yet when she grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the empty locker room. That class wasn’t on the app’s menu.

That night I shaved, washed, and waited for Lucía, knowing exactly what I wanted. She arrived with her backpack, her red lollipop, and that smile that never faded, no matter what we did.

She called from the bathroom with the tap running so no one would hear her. She heard “domination,” “submission,” “a year with no way out.” And she signed anyway.

Don Ernesto was twenty-seven years older than me, with rough laborer’s hands and a hungry gaze I pretended not to see. That night, I closed the curtains myself.

I walked into the living room and found him waiting with something hidden behind his back. His smile told me before he did that the night wouldn’t be normal.

My heels were killing me and the wig was itching, but when that man looked at me from across the room, I knew the night had only just begun.

Tomás hadn’t touched a woman in a year. My husband knew that when he invited him to dinner. And I put on the red thong knowing what was going to happen.

The first time she told me, I thought she was joking. The second time, her hand was already on the back of my neck, pushing me toward where she wanted me to go.

That afternoon beside the pool, she took off her bikini top, and everything between them changed. The tension they had ignored for days could no longer be undone.

The wig, the dress, and the heels were in my desk drawer. My boss had known for months. And that changed everything between us.

I’d rejected him a hundred times, called him the ugly duckling in front of everyone. When I opened my eyes, my wrists were hanging from a bar and he had a whip.

I crossed the ocean with my two possessions to make Venice their cage. Beneath their brocade dresses, two motors vibrated to the rhythm of my thumb.

The message came in in the middle of the afternoon. Three words: “Try them on. Photo.” I went upstairs and opened the drawer where he keeps the bikinis.

My husband thought kisses and promises had fixed everything. But that night I learned that true betrayal needs no bodies, only precise words and a cruel smile.

I heard him out patiently and smiled. I wasn’t going to argue with his fantasy. I was going to take it to the very end, right where he never dared to look.

Camila was already on the bed when I walked in. She looked at me with that smile of someone who knows something you still don’t, and then the Master closed the door behind us.

The sun burned our naked skin while Damián split me open without mercy, and in the water, a few meters away, my mother discovered that she was hungry too.

I had gone three days without sleeping properly, replaying every detail of that night with him in my head. That morning, with my coffee growing cold, I picked up the phone.

That Saturday he came over to correct my posture without being asked. By Monday, we already had a silent arrangement and I had chosen the right thong.

When she turned her head on the summit, I knew it was her. The girl from that party. Seven years later, her gaze was still claiming what I never finished.