Author’s note
I had an idea and decided to take it too far. Sorry it’s been a while. Been busy.
Story
She stood, backstage, checking the laptop, running through the slides she would be presenting in about half an hour’s time.
In contrast to the rest of the dark suits and pant-suits of the day’s presenters, she was in a light dress – a symphony of bright and vibrant colours, figure hugging and well cut. In that milieu, with that audience, she looked every part the keynote speaker, the main event. Everything over the last eighteen months since she had been appointed CEO by the board had led up to this day. She was the reason for a packed media enclosure, which the stage manager assured her was off-camera to the left and should be out of her normal field of vision for the presentation, after the intro.
Her bodyman stood just out of sight, watching the stage hands and the AV crew, monitoring for any risk to his charge. She looked up from the screen to him and mouthed ‘Water?’. He pulled a bottle from a fridge, checked the seal and the lid and handed it to her. She smiled in appreciation and he nodded a return smile.
Her phone notified her of a jump of the share price, and she noticed around her others checking their phones too, and she laughed. Everyone she knew had shares in the company. Everyone in the convention centre had a little or a lot of investment in the message she would give today.
Why was she so brightly dressed? Why not a Lisa Su dark, sharp cut jacket, or a Steve Jobs / Elizabeth Holmes turtle neck and dark jeans?
At 7.30am that morning, just as her alarm had sounded on her phone, a text message had arrived from THE NUMBER.
“Your outfit for the day is on the door handle.”
She had sighed, then texted back immediately. This was not a day for the sort of adventure THE NUMBER usually had in store.
“Thank you. But I have a lovely outfit for today. I can wear this later when we meet?”
“You’re welcome. No. Wear all of it.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“No need for that. Wear all of it.”
With that she had retrieved the suit carrier from the hotel room door, laid it across her bed and slowly, with great trepidation, unzipped the bag. It could have had anything inside. He had a habit of choosing his moments to shock and gently terrify her, and today could have been one of those days. She half expected a clown costume, some sort of dirty tracksuit or a slogan t-shirt designed to push her to the edge, but the edge of what? Was she going to disobey and lose that excitement, that force, that insanity, forever?
Of course not. Whatever he had sent her, with whatever instructions he had given her, she was going to follow them and she would wear them.
She had pulled the beautiful silk dress from the bag with a gasp of disbelief and thrill – this was a handmade, unique, tailored dress from Inigo Dutrice, a designer she had worn once before, the first night she had met THE NUMBER – but Inigo Dutrice had a waiting list months long and she had never attended for a fitting. This was insane, but there was her name and her dimensions on the tag affixed to the neckline. It plunged, and it would drape, and it would be beautiful. She hung it on a hanger and investigated the rest of the carrier – a bra in her exact dimensions in the same silk as the dress, but, inexplicably, a pair of cotton panties which, whilst not exactly bloomers, didn’t seem like the sort of underwear he would have wanted her in when they met after the conference.
At the bottom of the carrier was a small brown box, with the words ‘All of it” neatly written across the lid. When she opened up the box, undeniably, was the reason for the cotton panties. A small, rather beautifully crafted toy, which was unbranded but seemed similar to a Lelu or Lovense remote controlled vibrator, intended to be inserted into her. She sighed again.
“I don’t want to end this thing, but I can’t be humiliated on that stage. You know there are billions riding on this day” is what she would and should have sent him if she didn’t want to see how far he would take it. She took it from the box and searched for a power switch, but there was none; neither was there a charging point or any apparent way to install batteries.
She slipped off her pyjama bottoms and placed one foot on the bed, then gently slid the bulbous end of the soft navy toy past her lips and into herself. It gave a little buzz. Her phone beeped.
“You’ve put it inside already. How does it feel?”
“It feels soft and it fits perfectly. It buzzed.”
“It let me know how eager you are. Good. But take it out for now and put it back in just before you go on stage.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Now, in the same box there’s a little earpiece. It’s tiny, nobody will see it. Put it in as you go on the stage.”
“Will I hear your voice?”
“You will.”
“Thank God.”
With that, the toy gave little buzz as if to tell her it was deactivated. She removed it and placed it on the side table, then went for a shower.