1.
It wasn't as though she had wanted an affair with her boss. Her life had been ticking along perfectly and to the outside world, Rebecca had it all.
She loved her cosy flat, filled with ornaments collected on various holidays, sunny snapshots adorning the magnolia walls and carefully chosen oak furniture that complemented her elegant and minimalistic taste.
Her husband had little say in the decor bar a Gibson guitar perched in the corner of the living room.
She recalled how he would write songs about their relationship and play them for her, in the beginning, when life seemed a little more romantic and a little less stressful.
Her eyes closed as she remembered those sweet moments. How long since he had done anything so thoughtful? 5 years? 7? Certainly not since the accident. She sighed heavily and began thinking about her day ahead.
She knew she would have to wear what HE had told her. Her lover had given explicit instructions in his text, and she was pleasantly surprised to receive a parcel in the post containing a stunning red basque, stockings, suspenders and matching underwear.
She had chosen her black kitten heels to match - stilettos always made her wobble and she didn't want to look foolish in front of him. She had a sense that today would be more exciting, more deviant, more intense than the last assignation.
She eyed herself in her floor length mirror, happy with the way her breasts perched in the basque. Her waist looked equally as defined in this outfit and, even though she was curvy, the stockings gave her legs an even more feminine shape.
Her long red nails grappled with the suspender belt and she almost gave up trying to put it on. Finally the clips stuck in to place and she felt a sense of relief - she knew her lover would be angry if she didn't wear each piece.
She had seen his anger once before - in brutal daylight amongst office stationary and half drunk coffee cups. It had shocked everyone when he had screamed at that young admin assistant, his face contorted with rage and his voice echoing through the walls.
A vein in his neck had pulsated throughout the verbal assault and Rebecca had found it strangely mesmerising, until he had caught her staring and given her a furious glare.
Nobody wanted to upset him, least of all Rebecca. She needed this job and wasn't about to risk losing her financial security. If keeping her home and supporting her husband meant total subservience to her boss, then she would do it.
What other choice did she have?
Rebecca curled her hair carefully and began applying makeup. She knew he approved of her postbox red lipstick and took extra time in smoothing it on to her heart shaped lips.
He had told her she should highlight her green eyes by wearing smoky eyeshadow. Of course, she obeyed, scrutinising Youtube makeup tutorials to ensure she got the look exactly as he wanted it - somewhere between Moulin Rouge and Burlesque.
2.
When she arrived at the hotel, Rebecca was alarmed to find he had already checked in. She had wanted to have a drink first, to relax, to literally and metaphorically hang her coat up and adjust to this new environment.
She knew he would dominate the room as soon as he entered, both physically and mentally, and relaxation would not be allowed.
Now, knowing he was waiting for her, she felt her familiar anxieties growing in her stomach, climbing up her spine like a cancer.
The door was ajar and a chink of light broke free from the gap, stretching out towards the bed. She could see his muscular silhouette, dense and predatory, hunched in a chair in the corner.
She closed the door behind her and offered a weak smile, unsure if he could quite see her face in the darkness.
As she undid her coat she scanned the room for a light switch or a lamp but just as she spotted one, he spoke.
"You won't need the light" he said, his voice gravelly from his 20 a day smoking habit.
She thought she heard a slight slur in his speech and assumed he had been drinking in the dark for some time.
"OK" Rebecca replied, waiting for her next order.
