Kneel down next to Rosaria, try to talk to her.

You drop to your knees beside the trolley, your hands reaching instinctively for Rosaria's face. Up close, you can see the flush spreading down her neck, the way her pupils are dilated behind those thick lashes. The ball gag distorts her mouth, forcing her lips into a stretched O around the bright red rubber.

"Rosaria, are you hurt? What did they—" You stop mid-sentence as the humming registers properly. It's coming from between her legs, a low mechanical purr that's been constant since you found her.

"Mmmph! Mmmm-hhnng!" Rosaria makes urgent sounds behind the gag, her dark eyes boring into yours. She jerks her hips toward you, then away, the motion making the trolley's wheels click against the marble. Her wrists strain against the cuffs clipping her to the brass rail.

Mikaere's voice drifts down from above, in that cheerful cadence: "That would be her chastity belt, Sir. Standard issue for all incoming female property. The internal vibrator is set to the lowest setting for the arrival—just enough to keep her... aware of her status."

You look up at him, your brain struggling to process the words. "Vibrator? You put a—Madonna—you can't just—"

"It's completely safe," Mikaere assures you, pulling a slim pamphlet from his jacket pocket. "Your wife's belt is synced to the app on your smartphone. You'll have full control over intensity, patterns, even orgasm permissions. Well, that is... once your phone is returned tomorrow. Apparently you didn't register it beforehand, you know?"

Rosaria makes another muffled sound, this one ending in a whimper. Her hips shift again, and you realize she's been doing that the whole time—small, restless movements that she probably can't even control.

"I don't..." You gesture helplessly at the belt, at Rosaria, at the entire impossible situation. "How do I turn it off?"

"You can't, I'm afraid. Not until you have the app. For now, she's locked on the preset tourist mode—low and continuous. And her belt is tamper-proof. It will alarm if anyone attempts unauthorized removal." Mikaere tucks the pamphlet into your shirt pocket with a gentle pat. "Shall we proceed to your suite? Your wife will be much more comfortable once she's properly settled in. The honeymoon villa has an excellent selection of... amenities."

A woman in a gold bikini walks past on a leash, heels clicking. Her owner—a sunburned man in cargo shorts—is eating an ice cream cone and discussing restaurants with the concierge desk.

Rosaria's eyes haven't left yours. Behind the gag, she's trying to tell you something, but you can't make out the words through the muffled syllables.