The chain barely reached the door. To her surprise, the knob turned easily in her hand. But with the restraining metal cuff, an unlocked door was pointless. A tease. She flicked the light switch and pushed a button to turn on the flat screen television. Nothing happened. Was it just for show? Her gaze shifted to the security camera overhead, aimed at the bed, red light flashing. Recording her every move. She wondered if she’d be punished for this. She opened the trunk next and wished she hadn’t. Riding crops, whips, canes, floggers, paddles, nipple clamps, gags, blindfolds, ropes . . . On one end of the room stood a chest of drawers. The drawers on one side contained lingerie, mostly corsets. The other had swimsuits, white T-shirts, and brightly-colored sporty gym shorts. The top drawer was socks and tennis shoes. Everything was in her size. She glanced at the cracked bathroom door. She’d kill for a shower about now, if for nothing more than psychological reasons. She knew she couldn’t really clean off anything that happened, but she could pretend.
