He moved his hand from her throat to the small exposed curve of her back. The dress ended in a V just above the tip of her bottom. The dimples in the small of her back were visible in the V of the deep bruised purple of the satin. His fingers found them and lingered there as he led her out. They stopped and looked in the hallway mirror at the top of the stairs. She was stunning. He was handsome. Together, they would earn many stares, mostly on her but a few admiring glances on him as well. He grabbed one final thing: a black silk wrap to cover her arms and shoulders if needed.

The limousine parked in the street. The driver rushed to open the door for her, but he stopped him in his tracks. “’I’ve got it, my friend,” he said, holding the door for her. He entered on the other side of the car and the drive pulled away. He closed the dark window for privacy and unwrapped the metal wrapper of the champagne bottle. He twisted the wire and then gently burped the wooden cork out of the magnum’s throat. He poured her flute, stopping before the bubbles spilled down the sides and then poured his own. After draining two flutes of champagne and sharing cheese and strawberries prepared for the trip, the two murmured words that meant nothing but conveyed everything.

“Oh, that reminds me,” he said, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a satin night mask. Sometimes she would wear it when he would get engrossed in a book or in his own writing so that she could sleep without him having to leave the room. Today, it served another purpose. “Put this on,” he whispered into her ear. “And do not take it off.” The second demand carried in his voice such a command that she knew that no matter what happened, she would not peek from beneath the satin until he allowed it.

They rode in silence for what seemed to her in the darkness as an eternity. She noticed the city traffic becoming a highway and rural. A couple of turns, bumping over a railroad track and then coming to a halt, her journey had come to its end. But she knew inside that the journey was just beginning. She was damp with excitement, hot with desire, fearful with the unknown. He got out and opened her door, helping her out of the car. He led her gently up the steps into the building. Wooden floors echoed beneath her steps, her heels severe in the emptiness of the building. She could tell it was large with high ceilings. Music began to play, Frank Sinatra. He took her into him and moved her around the room through several song changes. She was amazed at how she felt blinded in his arms. Safe. Secure. That feeling changed suddenly when she felt the rough wood of a beam against her back.

He lifted her wrists above her head, crossing them. She felt the thick leather cuffs tighten around her wrists, binding her. He dropped to his knees and quickly strapped her ankles to either side of the thick post. Her cupped her face