Lingerie

Friday night, alone at home, caged, with the key hundreds of kilometers away. She left me only one huge toy, and I knew right away she’d bought it for this.

I went down to the garden in the dark, not knowing that this time she wouldn’t leave me alone with her underwear: she had something of her mother’s saved for me.

Every night she asked me for something new through the bars of her window, and I couldn’t bring myself to say no, even if it meant rummaging through my own mother’s laundry basket.

Lying on the edge of the bed, black stockings climbing my legs, I warned him I wouldn’t use my hands that night: I’d undo him with my feet alone.

The mirror in the dressing room reflected a woman she didn’t recognize. In a few minutes, dozens of strangers would see her naked. And still, she chose to step through the curtain.

I walked into the room blindfolded, nearly naked under my coat, not knowing who was waiting for me on the other side of the music. Only my husband’s voice guided me.

It was almost closing time when the bell rang. He and she came in, asked for black lace, and, without knowing it, offered me the afternoon I’d spent months fantasizing about alone.

There’s a bathroom no one uses at the back of the garage. I’ve spent days imagining you there, against the mirror, while I whisper everything I want to do to you.

He left me on the sofa blindfolded, my hands sweating. When a hand climbed my leg and the music started, I knew I’d never forget that night.

She knew what they had agreed to, but no words prepared her for what she would feel when she crossed that door and the room closed behind her.

I poured him tea to help him relax, but I knew work wasn’t the only thing making him tense. That night, I decided to do something about it.

When I walked into the café and recognized him, I knew that photo session wouldn’t stay just a photo session. His gaze had already undressed me before I said a word.

I left the sheer babydoll hanging where he’d see it, planned every move, and waited to see how far the guy in 4B would dare go.

I thought it was the receptionist coming back for something she’d forgotten. It was her, with that smile that never meant anything innocent, and the lock turning behind her.

I sent him a photo of a little box and four words: “tonight I’ll play with you.” I didn’t know the new toy wasn’t for me, but for him.

It started with a red thong and a “put it on, love.” It ended with her smiling from the counter, deciding for both of us how the rest of my life would go.

I walked through the front door following a solemn piece of music and found her lying on the bed, chained in gold and looking at me as if I were her only master.

I got into the car wearing every piece he chose, and I knew that afternoon my only job would be to obey while people passed by, unsuspecting.

I opened the wrong door and found her in front of the mirror, with two fingers where they didn’t belong. She didn’t scream. She smiled like someone who had just chosen her prey.

The first time I walked into his office I thought I was there to negotiate a loan. I left with his instructions etched into my skin and the certainty that my own desire was no longer mine to command.