That afternoon I had left work early. I was walking home when I came across the lingerie store whose window display I always glanced at discreetly. Since I had some time to spare and was in a particularly good mood, I decided to go in, pretending it was to buy a gift. The saleswoman let me wander around the store without bothering me, which I appreciated, so I took the opportunity to look around. I started by looking at the naughty lingerie, and I liked a transparent red one, but it seemed like the typical gift from friends on your farewell day. I showed fake interest in it to be discreet and continued looking. My eyes went to the corsets. Deep down, I've always thought that if I had been a biological woman, I would have had a collection of corsets for each day of the week, feeling their constant hug, their oppression on my body reminding me that I'm someone's object of desire. The one I liked the most (I think I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it) was a white one, with a low back and many laces to tighten it. It had a detail that completely captivated me: some garters hanging from it.

"That corset goes with these stockings and this thong," the saleswoman said behind me. A cold sweat started to run down my body. I liked it a lot, but I couldn't buy it. What would happen if someone saw me entering my house with the bag? What would the neighbors think?

"I'll take all three things," a masculine and authoritative voice said behind me. I felt equal amounts of relief, envy, and anger at my lack of courage to buy it. The saleswoman pushed me aside and took the corset.

When I turned around, I saw a well-dressed man, about 45 years old, tall and corpulent, who was paying with his back to me. I continued to stare with a foolish expression as the saleswoman handed him several bags, and that was the expression I had when he turned towards me.

"Take the bags and follow me," he said with a dark, handsome face, a mustache, and black hair, although it was already somewhat gray. Unable to say anything and still angry at my lack of valor in buying the corset, I took the bags and followed him. At all times, he walked two steps ahead, without bothering to turn around to talk to me. "We're going to my house."

We arrived at a building in Las Vistillas, an old mansion with large windows and wooden shutters. He greeted the doorman, who returned the greeting ostentatiously and looked at me with curiosity. It was clear that I wasn't the first guy to go up to his apartment with him. When we reached the elevator, he pointed to the stairs and told me, "It's 5C. The door is open. Enter the hallway and close the door. Put on what's in these two bags and leave the rest by the coat rack. Then get on all fours and enter the living room. I'll be waiting for you." Without waiting for a response from me, he turned around, pressed the 5 button on the elevator, and the doors closed in front of my nose. I looked at the doorman, who, if...