Gantungan Tas Di Kamar Novels & Stories

Ini-hanger ko 'yung mga uniform ko, at inayos ko rin 'yung mga sapatos ko. Tapos bumalik ako sa main part ng kwarto at nag-ayos ng iba pang gamit. Dinala ko rin 'yung Book of Wisdom. I don't know, feeling ko I need to bring it with me. I placed it sa isang hanging shelf sa itaas ng desk ko, may mga libro rin doon sa shelf, I think academic books. This room was to my liking, lolo probably interfered with my room set-up that's why ganito ang kwarto ko.

Maybe four inches wide, a matched pair of chains dangle from the ring, carabiners clipped to the free ends. Toward the footer of the bed, from the right and left sides, straps hang from the cross-posts. Nylon, I think, they look to be made of the stuff they use for climbing harnesses. The dangling ends open to loose loops. Buckles fitted halfway along say the straps are adjustable. A gentle push behind my shoulders. "Lie down, Elizabeth. Your head toward the wall. Arms over your head." The chains clink as he clips them to my cuffs. Then I huff, my breath snapped short as, grabbing me by the ankles, he hauls me down the bed until my arms draw tight and my legs flop over the end.

“Pack your things.” It was almost four in the morning when we entered his bedroom. He carried my bag and suitcase to the closet, a place I’d never seen before. It was a walk-in closet where his jeans and shirts were hung on hangers and his shoes were on the bottom rack. But most of the space was empty since he didn’t need it all because his wardrobe was so simple. Like I was in a hotel, he placed my suitcase on the table in the center and unzipped it, making it easy for me to access it. He hung up the clothes that I’d brought on hangers.

“It’s been 12 hours.” “Half a day! You see?” He opened his room door and allowed me to enter first. “Okay then…” He said starting to loosen his tie. I closed the door and placed his money case next to the bed on the floor. “Hey!” He scolded, rushing to pick up the case. “You never place it on the floor. I don’t want scratches on the thing.” “Okay…” I said rolling my eyes without him seeing. He placed the case on the bed.

I attached short lengths of chain to the screw eyes, and the dangling chains with quick links were now ready to be clipped onto wrist cuffs. These would just look like sturdy plant hangers to the casual observer; less innocuous would be the screw eyes I mounted in the baseboards on each side of the room, but these could easily be concealed until needed. I had additional lengths of chain on hand, already measured to the right length, with quick links ready to clip onto ankle cuffs. I attached them, coiled them up on the floor, and hid each of them with a small accent cabinet and a potted plant.

But that was not the biggest thing in the room. There a huge king sized four poster bed, it had a black silk bedding and it had handcuffs, on the poles of the bed. I laid on the bed and looked up, I saw cuffs hanging from the top of the bed. I got off the bed. There was things hanging on the wall. I went on the wall and saw whips hanging there, there was something with leather strings hanging, I ran my hands through it. I didn't know what this these where but I wanted to find out what they were. I went to the black cabinet.

The door seemed to shimmer under the crystal chandeliers that hung in the hallways. He opened the door and guided me inside. Before I could even get my bearings, he closed the door and locked it behind me. A large bed sat in the very center of the room. On it, attached to each of the four posts was a cuff. Two, presumably for the wrists, and two for the ankles. Hanging on the wall behind were a series of items: whips of various sizes and types, ribbons and ropes, what looked like some type of harness… My blood ran cold.

I slide the bottle free without disturbing the row, then I rotate the upset bottles so their labels face the same direction as the others. Everything must look untouched. I return the gauze jar to its exact position, angled the way I found it. Every item is placed intentionally in this cabinet, and careless hands will give me away. I shut the doors gently, listening for the soft click that reengages the lock. Perfect. “I won't be needing this anymore,” I whisper as I flick the ID card lightly across the floor toward the bathroom. It skids across the room, landing exactly where someone might lose it near the bathroom.

Each rack had sixty‚ seventy‚ maybe eighty pieces hanging from it in clear garment bags stamped with the Henri Laurent logo in gold. They lined the racks along the far wall and started unzipping‚ and within minutes there were dresses draped over every chair‚ blouses fanned across the bed‚ trousers hung from the wardrobe doors‚ coats laid out on the chaise by the window. My bedroom looked like a department store had exploded inside it.

Getting to her room, I opened the door and stepped in, only to find the space enveloped in darkness, making it hard to discern anything. Not wanting to disturb her in case she was asleep, I carefully placed my jacket on the bed and began the process of removing my clothes, ensuring minimal disruption. The quiet atmosphere added to the uncertainty of the situation, leaving me with a mix of emotions as I prepared for the night ahead. Feeling increasingly uneasy, I found peace in the act of undressing, a means to not only get comfortable but also to connect with my mate. However, my attempt at tranquillity took an unexpected turn when, in the process of hanging my white shirt, I mistakenly coll