“I could do without.” He rubbed his eyes with his fists, like a kid. “One doesn’t throw them out in the street. One tries to empower them. Not that my man wants to be empowered. I tried meeting with the leadership of their association, and they said, ‘Thank you kindly, sir, but we are satisfied with our situation.’”

“I didn’t know they had an organization.”

“Yeah, they’ve been organized for centuries. Matthews is a chapter leader.’”

“Will he talk about anything he sees here?” I’d been so set on making Ian jealous that I hadn’t considered that Oswald might find out about my antics.

“Oh, no, Matthews believes that thralls should be utterly faithful to their masters,” Wil said. “Now can I have a cuddle?”

“That’s all?” I traced my finger over his tattoo.

“Well, I believe that someone’s been naughty and needs a spanking.”

“How naughty?”

“Extremely,” he said.

“Well, if discipline is needed …”

We didn’t get out of bed until noon, and then we took a slippery, sudsy bath together that left water all over the marble tiles. When we were mopping up, we started a towel fight that had us sliding on the floor and laughing as we snapped at each other.

After we had dressed and I was putting kohl around Wil’s golden-brown eyes, he said, “I think I’ll take the week off.”

“Wil, you don’t have to do that.”

“You’re on holiday. I want you to enjoy it. Leave your hotel and stay with me.”

“You want me to stay with you and your houseman?”

“I’ll give Matthews the week off.”

“Well, okay, then.”

Wil took me to clubs, parties, art exhibits, and to hang out with his friends. We wore our vintage leather jackets, shared hair products, danced every night, had enthusiastic bouts of sex, and talked about our ideals for a world in which everyone was treated with respect.

While I kept so busy that it was easy not to think of my life back home, I worried that I was taking Wil away from his important work as an activist.

“Can’t I help you?” I asked him. I was trying to sort through the piles of paper on the dining table he used as a desk. “We can draft a mission statement and a rollout plan.”

He took the documents away from me and said, “Chillax. If you need to do something with your hands or your mouth, take hold of this.”

One morning while Wil slept in, I wrote a plan of action with suggested timelines, talking points for the media, and ideas for a website and social networking.