Chapter 2: Packing Without Clothes
The evening light was soft through the blinds, everything in the room tinted gold. Rebecca lay on the bed where I’d left her, naked except for the thin silver chain. It gleamed against her skin. She’d been waiting. I tossed the empty suitcase onto the mattress beside her. It landed with a soft thump.
“Pack everything in the bottom drawer,” I said.
She pushed herself up, the sheets rustling. She moved to the edge of the bed and knelt on the floor, the drawer of the heavy oak dresser at her eye level.She pulled it open. Her breath caught, just a little.
Inside, everything was arranged neatly. Coils of hemp rope, dark brown and smooth. The set of black leather cuffs, the ones with the steel D-rings. A few other things—a blindfold, a small paddle. And in the back, the heavy steel collar. It wasn’t like the silver chain she wore now. This one was solid, polished stainless steel, with a single, secure lock. I saved it. She knew what it meant.
She looked over her shoulder at me. Her eyes were wide, darker in the low light.
“All of it?” she asked. Her voice was quiet.
“All of it.”
She bit her lip and turned back to the drawer. Her fingers, usually so sure and quick, trembled just a little as she reached in. She picked up the coils of rope first, holding them to her chest for a second before laying them carefully in the base of the suitcase. The leather cuffs followed. She was methodical, placing each item with purpose. It wasn’t fear making her hands shake. It was the hum. The low, electric current that ran through the room whenever we touched this part of our life. She was thinking about where we were going, and what bringing these things meant.I watched her. The line of her spine, the curve of her shoulder. The professional shell was completely gone. Here, she was just this: thoughtful, obedient, trembling with anticipation.
“The trip is ten days,” I said, leaning against the bedpost. “Client meetings for me. Some tedious dinners. You’ll have your laptop. You can work from the place when you need to.”
She nodded, not looking up, as she placed the blindfold next to the cuffs. “The Ferguson proposal was approved this morning. Unanimously.”
“Told you you’d crush it.”
A small smile touched her lips. She reached for the steel collar last. She lifted it. It had a real weight to it. She held it in both hands, running her thumb over the cool, smooth surface before setting it with a soft clunk atop the other items in the suitcase. The sound was final.
She closed the suitcase and fastened the clasps. They clicked into place, loud in the quiet room. She stayed on her knees, her hands resting on the closed lid. She was waiting.
“Stand up,” I said.
She did, turning to face me. The last of the sun caught in her hair, turning it to fire. She kept her eyes down, her posture relaxed but attentive.
“This isn’t a vacation,” I said, stepping closer. “It’s a change of scene. The rules don’t change because there’s a ocean outside the window. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’ll wear the chain on the plane. You’ll pack the collar in your carry-on. I’ll decide when it goes on.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”
I reached out and hooked a finger under the silver chain. I gave it a slight tug, just enough to make her step forward. “This is about us. It’s about taking this,” I said, gesturing to the room, to the suitcase between us, “out of this box. Bringing it into the sunlight. Can you do that?”
She finally lifted her eyes to mine. In them, I saw the flicker of the woman who commanded boardrooms, assessing a challenge. Then it resolved into something simpler, clearer.Trust.
“I want to,” she said. Her voice was firm.
“Good.” I released the chain. “Now get dressed. The car comes at six.”
She moved to the closet, pulling out sensible trousers and a sweater. As she dressed, I zipped the suitcase of toys shut and carried it to the door. It was heavier than it looked.
I left her to it, taking the suitcase with me. I set it by the front door next to my own sensible luggage. The two bags sat side-by-side, one utterly normal, one holding our private world inside. A world we were about to unwrap under a foreign sun. The hum was still in the air, a promise, a charge. We were taking it with us.