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A wife is punished with household items and food.
Suddenly there was an intense pain in her stomach, so deep and unexpected that the sensation turned her bowels to water for an instant. In that moment she felt as though searing wires shot out from the brooch and sank themselves into her flesh, burrowing through her insides in a matter of seconds.
She was ready to scream with all that she had in her.
But moments later the pain was simply gone, as if it had never been at all.
Agnes looked down at the brooch, expecting to see a horrific mass of melted metal and burnt skin. But instead she saw that the thing was intact and her skin was as smooth and unblemished as normal. The only difference was that, if anything the pearl was now sitting more snugly in her navel than before the mysterious surge of pain.
She shook her head in disbelief and went to pull the thing out.
A yelp of pain saw her stop almost as soon as she started, pulling the pearl causing her a stab of agonising discomfort. She let go and tried with the other hand only to feel the same pain once more. Puzzled, Agnes poked and prodded at the pearl and soon came to the conclusion that any attempt to remove the thing would be as painful as trying to pull a fingernail from her own hand.
Was that what the terrible pain had been?
Was this some bizarre scheme or an unfathomable prank?
But then who would want to orchestrate a situation in which an actress was sent an item of jewellery that attached itself to her navel and refused to be removed? What could anyone hope to gain from such a ridiculous scenario as that?
Agnes had to admit that she was at a loss to think of an explanation for the whole thing. But on some level she was thankful that nothing more serious had befallen her. After all there was nothing outwardly problematic about having a small pearl brooch stuck in her belly button. It was far from in the way down there and she could not say that she hated the sight of it staring back up at her. For the moment she was perfectly happy to leave the thing where it was and worry about it later rather than try to pry it out and cause herself another jolt of pain.
Suddenly the thought occurred to her, was the architect of the strange scheme sitting in the next room? It seemed unlikely that a man so nervous and unsure of himself could be the brains behind the entire thing, it would have required a consummate actor to hide his true intentions behind a fa__ade the likes of that. She was sure that the possibility was less than zero as far as that actually being the case, she was a good enough judge of her own profession to know that his emotions were real enough. All things considered she was sure that Mitchell was no more than a courier simply doing his job.
But where should she go from here?
She was sitting on the toilet with an item of antique jewellery stuck in her navel and a nervous courier in the next room.
Was the idea of flirting him to death still something that appealed to her?
Agnes glanced at her reflection in the mirror, at her delicate lingerie on top of pale skin, the dark curls that fell to her shoulders and the contrasting shades of her makeup. If anything the addition of the pearl seemed to make her feel subtly more exotic and interesting than ever. It was a small addition to the whole, but somehow she felt it lent her the air of a harem girl or a bejewelled courtesan who was used to being adorned in such a way.
She gave a satisfied smile to her own face and decided that under the circumstances, this was just what she needed.
After all, she thought, I have to live up to my reputation as a siren of the screen.
Before the thought had faded from her mind, Agnes became aware of a sensation of warmth emanating from the pearl and spreading slowly outwards. It seemed to sink into her body, reaching her very bones while touching the outermost surface of her skin and setting both alive with a flush of sudden heat.
The feeling was like nothing she had experienced before in her life.