Instead, I choose jewelry from my collection, pieces I've acquired over the years but never used.
They were waiting for her, apparently.
A collar of diamonds that will sit at the base of her throat, hiding the bruises while making new ones.
It locks in the back with a key only I possess.
A delicate chain that connects to clamps I'll attach myself—rose gold that will complement her skin.
Anklets with tiny bells that will announce her every movement.
A plug, jeweled at the base, that will keep her ready for me all day.
She emerges from the bathroom exactly nineteen minutes later, skin pink from hot water, hair damp around her shoulders and stops short when she sees what's waiting on the bed.
"We have a meeting this afternoon," I tell her. "An important one. You'll be present."
"As what?"
"As mine."
The word makes her shiver. I approach, taking my time to adorn her with each piece.
The collar goes first. I position it perfectly, tight enough that she'll never forget it's there but not so tight she can't breathe.
She gasps when I lock it, the tiny click echoing in the room.
"This stays on until I decide otherwise," I tell her.
"How long?"
"Maybe forever."
Her pupils dilate at that.
I continue with the clamps, watching her bite her lip as I attach them, adjusting the pressure until she's right at the edge of pain.
The chain swaying between her breasts catches the light, drawing attention to her marked skin.
The anklets go on next, each movement now accompanied by soft music.
She tests them, shifting her weight, and the bells chime.
"Everyone will hear me," she says.
"That's the point."
Finally, the plug.
I bend her over the bed, taking my time preparing her, watching her try to stay still as I work it inside.
When it's fully seated, she's panting, fingers clutching the sheets.
"Stand up. Walk for me."
She obeys, each step making the bells chime and the plug shift inside her.
Her face is flushed, lips parted.
