Lingerie

She could cloud an entire city with desire, but that night it was Renata who snapped the lock shut, slipped the key into her pocket, and smiled like a lovestruck jailer.

She left the trunks on the bed and ordered me to try on every garment. That night I understood the journey was not a destination, but a test of how much I belonged to her.

I had never gone down more than three steps dressed as Lía. That afternoon, with the white lace brushing my thighs, I decided I would make it to the street.

I shaved, put on the wig and heels, and talked to the camera as if someone might really show up. One night, someone did.

I climbed those stairs with my heart racing, never imagining I would leave the apartment transformed, with a woman’s name on my lips.

I locked the dressing room, opened the suitcase, and stopped being Tomás. That night at the club, I had no idea my own boss would push the door open.

My owner planted the idea like a seed: money for my body and a stranger watching every detail. That Tuesday afternoon I went to fulfill it, not knowing how it would end.

I knew he went around the house without a bra. What I didn’t know was that he counted every time, and kept a wet souvenir under his pillow.

She told me that if I wanted her ass, I’d have to earn it. What I didn’t expect was for her to show up at my door on New Year’s Eve, suitcase in hand and giving orders.

For four days the little paper with his number burned in my pocket. Every night I remembered that wetness dripping out, and I knew I was going to call.

The seat beside him was occupied by her, with those crossed legs in the dim light. She said it was better to talk it through with me than with strangers. I had no idea where it would lead us.

I knelt in the center of the salon while they decided, line by line, how they would transform me. And all I could do was wish they would begin.

I gave him thirty days to prove he was good for something. On the first night I wouldn’t let him touch himself: only light a candle, obey, and wait for my punishment.

When I got to the cabin, there were only thirty men in suits and a drink waiting for me. It didn’t take long to understand why they’d paid me so much.

I wore Carolina’s black panty under tight pants, walking the city’s darkest avenue and waiting for someone to stop beside me.

I moved my body a little closer, pretending not to understand the chart, and watched her hands tremble over the papers.

I did my makeup, chose the tightest black dress, and went down to the restaurant knowing that night with the other couple wouldn’t end at the table.

I knew it before either of them admitted it: every Thursday she made up a clumsy excuse, and I let her go, knowing exactly where and with whom.

I practiced in front of the mirror for weeks. The night I packed the dress into my backpack, I knew there was no turning back: this time it would be real.

She left her panties on the nightstand like every night. But this time I went into her room without warning and found something that changed everything between us.