Voyeur

The question I asked him on a Friday night in bed was only the beginning. The game had been running for weeks, and he had no idea.

I parked half a block away so I wouldn’t make noise. The door was unlocked and the lights were off. What I found at the end of the hallway changed everything.

The afternoon Diego showed up sweaty from the game and took off his shirt, everything changed. The tattoo Carmen had zoomed in on the night before.

When the lights came back on, I saw what my husband had between his hands and knew the proposed partner swap hadn’t been spontaneous.

When I heard the moans mingling with the sound of the water, I should have turned around. Instead, I crouched among the bushes and moved closer.

We’d set the perfect trap. But when Diego took me by the waist with that brutal confidence, I understood I was no longer the one in control.

When he opened the wrong box, he knew it was a mistake. But when she entered his office, small and frightened, doll and woman became one.

Behind those boxes, I thought no one could see me. The red camera on the ceiling and the footsteps at the door told me otherwise.

She had the champagne bucket in one hand and the other pressed against the wood, trying to convince herself she was only listening to make sure everything was in order.

For months, he had stared at the dark corner of his bedroom. The wrong doll they sent him was the closest thing to companionship he’d had in years.

My husband wanted to watch me with his brother. It took me weeks to admit I wanted it too. Then I rented an apartment with a one-way mirror and planned every detail.

When I opened the door that night, they had no idea I already had the taste of their friend in my mouth and a plan measured in every movement of my hips.

The half-open door let out a muffled moan and I, frozen in the shadows of the hallway, couldn’t move or stop staring at what I was seeing.

One summer night, a bottle game among strangers on the beach and no intention of stopping. What happened next was far more than expected.

We needed the money. So we signed without reading the fine print of a contract that would keep us in Prague six weeks longer than planned.

When Héctor put his hand on Sofía’s back and she didn’t pull away, I understood that this trip was going to be different from all the others.

A half-open door was the beginning. Then came the mirror I installed in her room so I could watch her better, night after night.

I saw her on all fours over the dry grass, with the fluffy tail swaying between her cheeks, and I knew that Sunday afternoon was going to be unlike any other.

I went for water at midnight and found her alone in front of the washing machine. I didn’t announce myself. I stayed in the doorway, watching, unable to leave.

The key to my cage hung between her breasts all night, gleaming whenever she leaned over to laugh with her friends. All I could do was serve.