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Literotic asexstories – Insert by u1u1u1,u1u1u1
A/N: this is part 4 in the Ctrl-Alt-Delete trilogy, but you don’t need to have read the others. This is much longer, and a much slower burn, than my previous work. Ratings and constructive comments very much appreciated.

This is all my own work. I am the legal copyright holder. I do, however, allow you to use it, without attribution, however you like, on a Creative Commons Share-Alike basis (i.e. any derivative works must also be on a Creative Commons Share-Alike license).

——————————————-

Emily lay, half-asleep, on a luxurious super-king-size four-poster. She was sprawled diagonally across the bed and wrapped up tightly in the thick duvet. Her boyfriend, Tom, had told her to book a week off work for a mystery holiday. They’d hopped on a Eurostar to Paris the previous evening, and Emily was now making the most of her time off by gently dozing in their suite in a Parisian hotel.

She heard a soft “beep” and the door to the hotel room opened. Emily opened her eyes and saw Tom, her boyfriend – no, fiancé, she was going to have to get used to that – walk in with a paper bag in one hand and a coffee clutch in the other. He smiled at her, and put down both the bag and the coffee on the bedside table. He sat down on the corner of the mattress and stroked her head.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he said, bending down to kiss her. Emily put her hand on his chest. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thanks,” said Emily. “Where have you been?”

“When in Paris…” Tom said, picking up the paper bag and opening it for Emily. She peered inside and saw a pair of croissants inside. Her heart sank. Emily was a coeliac, and she really missed the taste of pastries. They smelled delicious.

Tom spotted the look on her face. “Don’t worry, love,” he said. He showed her the front of the bag. It was stamped with the logo of a boulangerie, with the words “sans gluten” written underneath. “I thought I could deprive myself of the most delicious protein in the world for you.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” said Emily, reaching in and pulling out one of the croissants. It was still warm. She took a big bite. It was rich, flaky, and buttery – as good as any croissant she could remember having before her intestines betrayed her. “Oh, god, that’s so good!”

Emily wolfed down her croissant before Tom could even take a bite of his. She licked her fingers. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was.

“I thought we’d eat on the balcony,” said Tom with a smile. Emily looked down. She’d got crumbs down her naked body and on the pristine Egyptian-cotton sheets. She brushed herself down sheepishly. Stretching, she climbed out of bed and picked up Tom’s discarded t-shirt from the previous day off the carpet, pulling it on over her head. It was long enough on her to serve as a micro-mini, just about covering her crotch and buttocks.

They sat out on the balcony of their eighth-floor hotel room with their hot drinks – Emily’s latte and Tom’s dark hot chocolate – and enjoyed the views of the Seine and the majestic Eiffel Tower silhouetted against the morning sky. It was a mild spring day, and the air was cool and fresh. Tom savoured the moment, breathing deeply and enjoying feeling of the cold air filling his lungs. Their seats were a little cold, especially for Emily, but tolerable.

“Do you think your family will like me?” asked Emily, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. Tom saw genuine concern on her face. He knew Emily was confident enough in her own likeability for that to not be her real concern here.

“Absolutely! You’re brilliant, Emily,” Tom said. “Are you worried about them not understanding our… inclinations?”

Emily sighed and nodded. “Did they ever expect you to get married? They must think I’m pitiable.”

“Well, darling, I’m not exactly forthcoming about BDSM with them,” Tom said. “They’re not going to think you’re a freak – although, of course, you are. As far as the rest of my family is concerned, we’re a normal couple.” He paused. “What about your family?”

Emily hesitated. “I may… OK, I told my mum about our sex life. She’s open-minded, but…”

“She disapproves?”

“No, not at all. Not of the relationship, at least. But my dad wasn’t a catch, and I think she’s a bit afraid that you’re not marriage material.”

Tom smiled reassuringly and rubbed her arm. “Well, don’t forget, love — it takes two to tango. If your mum isn’t sure about me, then I need to let her get to know me better. And if you’re really worried, we can help your mum understand our dynamics. That’s what we have language for, after all,” said Tom.

Feeling somewhat relieved, Emily took another sip of her latte. It was good coffee, and just the right temperature – hot, but not scalding. “You always say such sensible things.” She leaned forward slightly, gazing admiringly into Tom’s clear blue eyes.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Tom gave her a reassuring grin, knowing they were united in their commitment to each other. Their love was strong, deep, and steadfast. As they sipped their respective drinks, Tom couldn’t resist turning his attention to his soon-to-be wife once again. “You really pull off that grubby t-shirt, you know. You look ravishing.”

Something stirred within Emily. “Thank you. Now you mention it, I’d quite like to be ravished. Ideally right here on the balcony.”

It was tiny and momentary, but Tom flinched. Emily’s heart sank.

“What’s the matter?” she asked. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“There’s a line between “not being ashamed” and “willing to have sex in public in the middle of Paris”,” Tom said.

“Oh, come on,” said Emily. She got up and bent over the balcony rail, holding tightly to the cold wrought iron. Nobody on the streets below paid her any mind. “You’ve introduced me to so many kinks. How about I introduce you to exhibitionism? Or if that doesn’t work for you, then there’s the thrill of trying not to get caught.”

She gave her butt a wiggle, which had the desired effect. Tom got behind her and unbuckled his belt. He lifted up Emily’s “t-skirt” and slid his erect cock into her slick vagina.

They fucked slowly. Emily initially restrained her moans in line with Tom’s reticence, but she did notice a couple of other hotel guests on their balconies glancing up at her. Some were deliberately avoiding looking, while one older man was watching very intently with a dirty grin on his face. Tom, lacking Emily’s advantageous vantage point, was blissfully unaware of how much attention she was attracting.

It was only a couple of minutes before Emily felt Tom ejaculate inside her. She used it as an opportunity to fake an orgasm, letting out a long, loud groan. Some of the passers-by on the ground below glanced up. Emily knew they wouldn’t be able to get a good look at her from that far away, but they also would be under no doubt about what they had witnessed.

“Come on, let’s finish up back inside,” said Tom, tucking himself away and putting his hand on Emily’s shoulder.

“You did finish up,” said Emily, turning to look at him.

“I did, but you didn’t. You’re a terrible actress.”

Emily blushed. “I… nobody’s ever caught me faking before.”

“The difference is that those guys have never seen you have a real orgasm.”

“Alright, you got me,” said Emily. She strutted back in, swaying her hips as she walked. She pulled off the dirty t-shirt and discarded it on the floor again. She sat on the edge of the bed and lay backwards. Tom mounted her. He put one hand on her cheek and kissed her. His lips tasted of chocolate. He began to descend, kissing under her chin, and Emily licked her lips, savouring the lingering taste of the hot chocolate. Oh, how she wanted him. Normally she’d savour the experience of him going down on her, but she was already fired up, and now she just wanted him to stop going down and just get down.

Tom seemed to sense her impatience. He didn’t dwell as long as he normally would on the delightful softness of her breasts, or on her smooth stomach, but instead made a beeline for her clitoris, which, on this occasion, Emily was grateful for. He swirled his tongue around her sensitive nub, pressing it flat against her flesh and tasting her. Tom teased the section of her clit that protruded out from the clitoral hood, giving her the most intense pleasure, then he sucked on her like she was a straw in a tall drink. Emily was afraid that she’d start to go numb, but then Tom switched things up, tracing the circumference of her outer labia in a big, slow lick.

“Oh yeah, that’s good…” Emily said. She could feel his exhalations as he pleasured her. Her fingers dug into the bedsheets and her face contorted with pleasure. Tom returned his attention to her clitoris, sucking her off while humming “La Marseillaise”. Emily was overcome, and this time her orgasmic moan was genuine.

After a few minutes of gentle spooning, Emily got up and showered. She wrapped up in a fashionable trenchcoat with a waist tie that accentuated her figure. Together, they strolled down from their hotel in the 8th arrondissement down in the vague direction of the Jardin du Luxembourg in the 6th. They started out in one of the more beautiful areas of Paris. Tall, elegant blocks of apartments above shops and cafés lined the wide avenues. The two of them headed south-east, crossing the Seine and then walking east across southern Paris.

Spring had truly sprung in the Jardin. They sauntered along the promenades, admiring the buds and blossoms and the birdsong. Emily, who had visited Paris more times than Tom, showed him to the statues of Beethoven, Baudelaire, Verlaine, and Sand. Eventually they found a bench near the Medici fountain, the splashing of water a charming background noise.

“I have a question,” said Emily. “You told me to take a week off work, but you only booked us into our hotel for two nights. What’s the plan for Sunday night? I’d like to calibrate my expectations.”

Tom smiled sheepishly. “Well, there’s actually two options for you to choose between. We can get the TGV down to Avignon…”

“Ooh la la, très bien!”

Tom enjoyed this little piece of cod French from Emily. She was, in truth, an excellent French speaker. Tom could get through the first line in a conversation, but would then stumble, unable to respond. He also spoke with an obvious English accent that made most French speakers immediately switch to English for him, something he found mildly frustrating, even though it was well-intentioned and helpful. Emily, contrastingly, was confident and near-fluent. The Parisians viewed Tom as English, but Emily as something like Swiss – foreign, yes, but still native Francophone. Consequently, Emily had something of a natural tendency to showboat, bringing up reflexive verbs and the pluperfect tense while Tom struggled to remember how to conjugate “alle”. All this to say that Emily’s break-out into simple, stereotypical French, rather than a complex run-on sentence with flawless grammar, was a show of restraint for Tom’s benefit. Her considerate gesture did not go over his head.

“I’ve booked us a nice room in a hotel near the Palais des Papes,” Tom said, although what came out of his mouth was closer to “Palais du Papes”. “It’s a good central location, but we can get our money back if we cancel this evening.”

“Don’t cancel, I’ve always wanted to go to Avignon.”

“I haven’t told you the other option yet.”

“It’s going to have to be pretty special to displace Avignon for me.”

“Prague?”

“OK, I love you. Yeah, that’s an upgrade upon Avignon. I’m excited.”

Despite Emily’s positive reaction, Tom still looked sheepish.

“There’s a catch. I booked the hotel in Avignon, but I haven’t actually paid anything towards our Prague trip. A mutual friend of ours would be putting us up.”

“This mutual friend,” said Emily, mildly suspicious, “she wouldn’t happen to be a pocket dynamo Domme who has expressed an ongoing interest in doing terrible things to my butt?”

At a fairly early stage in their relationship, Tom had introduced Emily to an old flame, Nina. Like Tom, Nina was dominant in bed, which had left them sexually incompatible. When Tom started seriously dating Emily, he introduced them for a mutually-enjoyable threesome, allowing Emily to experience BDSM with another partner and Tom to have sex with the two women he found most attractive at the same time. Nina, who was bisexual, had taken a real shining to Emily, although the three of them hadn’t hooked up since.

“Nina has an apartment in the Old Town,” Tom said. “It’s a two-bed, so we wouldn’t have to share with her if you didn’t want to. But Nina’s much more committed to the BDSM lifestyle than we are, and I’d quite like to try out some of her equipment.”

“I like Nina,” said Emily. “I’d also like to be able to sit down on the flight home.”

“You might not have to,” Tom said. “Nina booked us business class seats.”

“Doesn’t make much difference on a short-haul flight,” Emily said, though she was smiling as she said it. She paused for a moment. “Is it raining?”

It had indeed started to spit, so they went inside a nearby café. Emily ordered for them both, and made the waiter laugh with a joke Tom didn’t quite understand. They both had salads – Emily gave Tom her tomatoes in exchange for his rocket.

“Thank you for letting me choose where we go,” said Emily. “It means a lot. I know how much you value your sense of control.”

“I’d have liked for the whole thing to be a surprise,” said Tom, “but I don’t think it would have been right to spring Nina on you unannounced.”

Emily stroked his leg. “I really appreciate it. Come on, eat up. We’ll miss our timeslot at the Louvre.”

—————————————————-

They flew from Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris to Václav Havel in Prague. Tom hated flying, especially how the changes in pressure caused pain in his sinuses, and when they landed he was feeling under the weather and slightly grouchy.

“De Gaulle doesn’t deserve to have an airport named after him,” Tom declared confidently as they were waiting for a bus from the airport to the Old Town.

“He did win World War 2,” said Emily.

“Yeah, but other than that he was a total shit, wasn’t he?”

“I think you’re exaggerating, rather unfairly,” said Emily. “He was admittedly a bit of a dick towards Britain, but he had a progressive attitude towards the colonies, and he wasn’t afraid to go against the pied-noirs.”

“OK, fine, I guess he might deserve an airport,” said Tom. “But Václav Havel, there’s a man who definitely deserves a national airport. Maybe two. We could rename Heathrow in his honour.”

“Well… he did release a lot of violent criminals,” Emily said.

Tom affected shock. “Emily, I can’t believe you’re a conservative on criminal justice.”

“I’m not! I just prefer histography to hagiography. Real people are complicated.”

They got on the bus and validated their tickets. They stood on the bottom deck with their suitcases, crowded in with far too many sweaty tourists. Unlike Paris, Prague was unseasonably balmy, and the bus was stuffy and unpleasant.

Once they’d got into town, they got off the bus and caught Line A on the metro, which was much more comfortable. They got off in the historic Old Town, the first district of Prague and full of buildings from various different architectural styles – Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, and even Art Nouveau, all crammed in closely together in an organic way. Emily took in the city’s splendour, but noticed that Tom was withdrawn. She put Nina’s address into her phone and led Tom, who was carrying their bags, through the bustling streets. They got to Nina’s road, and found that the buildings didn’t have their numbers on the doors. Nina had sent them a picture of her building, but there were a couple of others that had the same buff sandstone exterior. Emily approached the nearest one and checked the intercom – yes, Flat 1 had Nina’s name by it. She pressed the intercom.

“Hello?” Nina said in her clipped voice.

“Hi, Nina, it’s Emily and Tom,” Emily said.

“Come on up!” Nina said, buzzing them in.

The common area of the building was bare-bones: cracked terracotta tiles on the floor, exposed stone walls, concrete steps, and a wrought-iron bannister. Keen to do her share of the work, Emily tried to carry her suitcase up the stairs, but was clearly struggling, and she didn’t object when Tom offered to carry them both from the landing.

Nina opened the door to her flat. She was dressed in jeans and a blue tank top – a far cry from the sharp suits Emily was used to seeing her wear. She gave Emily a big hug. “It’s so good to see you both!” Nina said. She broke the hug. “Though I must say, you both look terrible. Rough flight?”

“It wasn’t great,” Tom said. “No turbulence or anything, I just hate flying. I need a lie down.”

“Of course. Come on in. I’ll get you some paracetamol and show you your room.”

Nina’s apartment was much nicer than either the exterior of the building or the common stairwell. They took off their shoes and stood on the soft, thick-piled carpet. Unlike Nina’s flat in London, which was sophisticated and minimalist, this flat felt like a home. There were photographs of Nina with other people hung on the walls, alongside eye-catching artwork. Emily was particularly taken by a cubist painting that reminded her of Picasso. That said, the narrow, dark corridor that ran to their right hinted at the flat’s communist past.

Nina brought Tom a glass of water and two paracetamol. He put the bags down and swallowed the pills. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re sleeping just through here,” Nina said. Tom grabbed the bags again and followed Nina down the corridor to the furthest bedroom.

“Ah,” Tom said, stepping inside. There was not much room to manouvere. There was a double bed that was surely big enough for him and Emily, but there was precious little space around the bed. The room was packed with erotic furniture: a cage, a sex swing, a medieval rack, and most prominent of all, a St Andrew’s Cross.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Nina said. “The spare room is also the fun room.”

Tom had known that Nina was deeper into the BDSM lifestyle than he was, and she’d even told him about some of this equipment, but to have so much of it crammed into such a small space… well. He was too tired to complain. He was vaguely aware that Emily might be overwhelmed by it all, but mostly he just wanted to lie down. He dumped the bags on the floor.

“Thanks, Nina. I’m sorry, I’m not myself right now.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. Get some rest. I’m sure we can handle ourselves without you,” Nina said with a wink.

—————————————————————

Emily was admiring the cubist painting in Nina’s living room. It was a mess of purple, blue, grey and brown, divided by black lines and curves.

“You like it?” Nina said, walking back into the room.

“I do. I know it’s not a Picasso… a Braque maybe?”

“It’s Josef Čapek. He was from Prague. All the art I keep here is by local artists. Prints, mostly.”

“What’s it called?” Emily asked.

“It has a Czech name that I can’t remember, but it translates to “Nude Woman”. Couldn’t you tell?” Nina traced her finger along one of the curved lines and Emily blushed. “Deary me, you are painfully straight, aren’t you?” Nina caught herself. “Sorry, Emily, I’m slipping into Domme mode. Usually I can make it through a conversation… anyway. Would you like a drink?””Please,” said Emily. “A red wine?”

“If you’d like,” said Nina, “but what would you say about some French brandy? Have you ever tried Armagnac?”

“I haven’t. Is it strong?”

“Stronger than wine, yes. We’ll just have enough to taste. Is that OK?”

Emily nodded. Nina took her through to the main room, a open-plan kitchen-diner-living room with large French windows leading out onto a balcony, and a drinks cabinet set up between the sofas. Nina poured them each a finger. “Cheers.”

Emily sipped tentatively on her drink. It was indeed strong, but sweeter than any hard liquors that Emily had tried before.

“I understand congratulations are in order,” said Nina, gesturing towards Emily’s ring finger.

“Thank you,” said Emily. “We’re very happy.” She took a sip of her drink. “How are things with you?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Nina. It seemed to Emily that Nina had her guard down. She wasn’t as flirtatious as usual, and seemed relaxed.

“Why do you have an apartment in Prague?” Emily asked.

“Partially just because I can,” Nina said. “I make enough, and work allow me to base myself here for greater access to the Asian markets… although frankly the benefit is marginal. I’m thinking about getting a place in Istanbul, but that’s a bigger culture shock. Prague is just so free. Beautiful, too, but the main attraction for me is the culture. It’s like Amsterdam without the canals.”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you find it difficult to… find sexual partners?”

Nina widened her eyes in feigned outrage. “Emily, are you saying I’m not attractive enough?”

“N-no, no, I just meant… submissives.”

“Relax, I know. It’s actually much less hard than you’d think. There’s more people who want to be dominated by women than there are women willing to do the dominating. Actually, I think that’s true for men as well, but the odds are stacked in my favour. Plus, most people are willing to dabble a little bit, even if they don’t want to be horse-whipped.”

Emily glanced out the window briefly.

“Sorry, was that too much?” Nina asked. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine,” Emily said. “I just wish… OK, can I tell you something? Tom’s shown me all about pain play and restraint and submission, and I’m so glad he has because I’ve really enjoyed it, but… I want to try public sex and exhibitionism, but the veil just comes down whenever I mention it to him.”

Nina paused. “Well, you don’t need me to lecture you about consent. It’s even more important in a kinky relationship. So, assuming you’ve communicated clearly with Tom, and he’s communicated clearly that he’s not interested, you have to make a decision. Either you accept that you aren’t going to have this kink fulfilled, you find some creative way to fulfil it that he consents to, or you break up with him.” “Well, it’s definitely not worth breaking up with him over,” said Emily. “So I guess that brings us to creativity.”

“Do you know what it is he objects to? Would he be fine if you were the only one taking the risk? Or what about something like amateur pornography, where the exposure is fully legal?”

Emily could practically feel the vasodilation between her legs. “That’s… not something I’d thought of, but it appeals. I think he’d be down for it. I’ll ask. Thanks, Nina. I’m glad I had someone as bold as you to advise me.”

Nina sighed. “Can I tell you something, Emily? I found all of this by accident. My dad was a diplomat. He was stationed in Tunis during the Arab Spring while I was at university. He was hit by a stray bullet fired by the security services and ended up paralysed. He got a big insurance payout and could take early retirement, but it turned out that my parents were in a lot of debt and were going to lose everything. I had a job lined up with an international development organisation, but I pivoted hard to finance so I could make enough money to pay off their debts.”

“Oh wow. That must have been terrible.”

“Honestly, it could have been so much worse. I mean, he survived, he does motivational talks now… but yes, I had to grow up fast. I wanted to help developing countries, but instead I ended up buying them. It hardened me. There was a lot of stuff that came with the job that I acclimatised to, so instead of it being a two year rush to set up my parents, I stuck with it. I ended up adopting a certain persona in the workplace, and that ended up spilling over to my love life. When I’m with my friends I can loosen up a bit and be myself. So I’m glad you’re here. It isn’t just about the sex, Emily – I genuinely value your company. Both of your company.”

“Well, I’m glad. Perhaps we should have another drink?”

“You can have another,” said Nina, taking Emily’s glass over to the drinks stand and decanting a larger portion of Armagnac, “but I think I’m done for now. I’m not in the right mood. I’ll make myself sad drunk.”

“Well, I’m not sure I want to be the only one intoxicated,” said Emily, accepting her drink from Nina all the same.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to get intoxicated,” said Nina with a smile. She headed through to the kitchen and grabbed a small plate. She picked up a tin that was gaudily decorated with flowers. There was no way Emily could imagine it being owned by Nina the dominatrix, but she could now understand it as something belonging to the reluctant investment banker. Nina opened the tin and pulled out a chocolate brownie.

“Is that what I think it is?” Emily said, teasingly.

“THC and CBD infused. Perfectly legal here. Would you like one?”

“It’s not going to turn me into a paranoid wreck?”

Nina laughed. “Don’t worry. If you’re nervous, just have half for now, and maybe the other half this evening.”

————————————————–

Half an hour later, Emily was starting to feel very relaxed. Nina was telling a story about a strange encounter she’d had in the Jewish quarter a few weeks earlier.

“Look, I’ll show you,” Nina said, throwing open the French windows and stepping onto the balcony. Emily followed her. They were only on the first floor, but they had a good view of the people milling through from the square at the end of the street. “It was just as we came through that alleyway,” Nina said, pointing. “He just collapses on the floor. I was worried for a second, but he wouldn’t stop laughing. He wasn’t hurt, but he also wasn’t going to get up and come with me, so after a few minutes I just decided to leave him there. So it was all a bit of a waste of time.”

Emily spied something tucked to the side of the balcony, left of the French windows and below the regular windows. It was a wooden pillory, like something out of a history book. “What’s that doing out here, Nina?” Emily asked.

“Oh, there wasn’t enough room in the spare bedroom, so that lives out here. I think being slightly weathered adds to the authenticity, don’t you?”

“I just want to check on Tom. I’ll be right back.”

Emily skipped through the living room and down the hallway to the spare bedroom. She was surprised to see just how crowded the spare room was. Tom was fast asleep, and Emily didn’t want to risk waking him.

She returned to Nina, who was fixing herself a drink now.

“Nina, I’m sorry if this is forward, but I’d like to try the pillory,” Emily said. “Would you be up for giving me a little discipline?”

Nina smiled wickedly. “That’s “mistress” to you, young lady. Help me bring it inside.”

“Oh, mistress, I was hoping… please, could we use this as a chance to do some exhibitionism?”

“What does your Master think?”

“I didn’t want to disturb him, Mistress.”

“Oh, you are a bad girl.” It was like a switch had flicked inside Nina. She’d gone from vulnerable to domineering at the mere mention of disciplining Emily. “Yes, I think a spell in the pillory would teach you a lesson. Dress, off, now.”

Emily reached around and unzipped herself, then pulled her dress off over her head. She discarded it on the sofa and stood before Nina in just her bra and panties – a matching mute-pink set.

They did move the pillory slightly, positioning it in front of the French windows and opening it in anticipation.

“And the bra, please, girl,” said Nina.

Emily complied, unclasping her bra and throwing it down on top of her dress. She now stood in front of Nina in just her pink lacey panties. Nina walked up to her and clasped her breasts.

“I’ve said this before, but you have great tits,” Nina said. “Of course, if you were mine I’d pay for you to go up a size or two, but I can’t complain.” She gave them a squeeze and looked Emily dead in the eye. It made Emily gulp. “Tell me you want the pillory. Tell me you want the cane. Tell me you want the world to see.”

“Oh, please, mistress, I am your worthless bitch, please punish me. Put me in the pillory and cane me in front of the whole world.”

Nina reached up and grabbed a fistful of Emily’s hair. She dragged her out to the balcony. Emily knew she could easily overpower Nina, but she allowed the smaller woman to treat her roughly.

“Assume the position,” said Nina. Emily bent at the waist and placed her head and arms in the notches on the lower half of the pillory. Nina closed the other half down over her, securing her tightly in place. Emily was immobilised and helpless.

Nina spent a few seconds rummaging in one of her cupboards, before returning to the balcony. Emily could see a couple of young men glance up at her, a damsel in distress with her tits out. That was what she wanted. She felt so desired. She only wanted one man inside her – but she wanted everyone else to know what they were missing out on.

“Your initial punishment is ten minutes in the pillory and thirty strokes of the cane,” Nina said. Emily felt Nina’s fingers under the elastic of her panties, before she yanked them down to her ankles. “The safe word is “terminate”. Count the strokes.”

Emily felt the lightest touch of the cane against her backside for a brief moment, before Nina withdrew it and brought it down again sharply.

She stifled a cry. “One.” “Don’t try to be brave, girl. You’re a slut for punishment,” Nina said, running the tip of the cane up Emily’s spine and back down again. Emily had goosebumps. Every hair was stood up on end. “If you’re in pain, I want to hear it.”

Nina once again positioned the cane against Emily’s buttocks and brought it down with a sharp crack. This time, Emily cried out in pain. Her breasts swayed forward under the force of Nina’s blow. Passers by on the street below looked up at her. Some turned their gazes away. Some very much did not. Emily could tell some were filming her on their phones. “Two.”

“Good,” said Nina. She manoeuvred the cane in-between Emily’s legs, teasing her labia. It wasn’t especially delicate or controlled, but it did the job. Emily bit her lip in anticipation.

There was a long wait between each blow. Nina clearly wanted to drag the thirty out over the full ten minutes. Emily wasn’t sure if that was good or bad – would it make the recovery quicker or slower?

Crack! “Three!”

Crack! “Four!”

The voyeurs down below were more like a stream than a pool. A couple of blows seemed to be all the titillation most people needed. But as soon as one person moved along, another passer-by took their place.

“Six!”

“What the hell?”

Emily didn’t need to see Tom to recognise his voice, and he was clearly not best pleased.

“Oh, good, you’re awake. Would you like to join us?” Nina said, sounding much cooler than Emily felt.

“Emily, are you OK?”

“I’m fine. Erm, abort? Terminate?”

Nina dropped the cane and helped Emily out of the pillory. Emily gingerly pulled up her panties. Tom was looking disheveled and pissed off.

“Sorry for waking you,” Emily said. “I just wanted to try something and thought we shouldn’t disturb you.”

Tom looked coldly at Nina. “In future,” he said, “make sure I am present or have given permission before you discipline my sub. We’re a package deal. Don’t get between us, or we’ll stop sharing. You understand?”

Tom was not an unusually tall man, but Nina was unusually short, and Tom towered over her. He was also much stronger. This was the angriest Emily had ever seen him – although that wasn’t saying much, as he was usually very level-headed and composed. Emily was suddenly aware of the danger of the situation. Glancing down, she could see an unmistakable tent in Tom’s pants.

Nina didn’t flinch. “Please accept my apologies. In future I’ll seek your permission before disciplining her.”

“Good,” Tom said, relaxing a little. Emily got herself dressed properly. “I’m still not in a great mood, to be honest. Emily, what do you think would cheer me up?”

Emily was very excited. “Maybe… maybe you should discipline me?”

“Later, perhaps. Actually, what I want right now is a pizza. Nina, do you know anywhere that does gluten-free pizza?”

“There’s a fantastic place up towards the castle, near the Lennon Wall. It’s about a 20 minute walk?”

“Sounds good,” said Tom. He ran his hand over his face. “I’m going to take a quick cold shower, then we could head over there? Would be nice to catch up properly.”

Emily had some insight into Tom’s behaviour. He was working hard to seem casual now, after losing his composure when he walked in on Nina caning her. Best to assuage him. “I’d like that.”

Tom showered, and they all got changed into casual, loose-fitting clothes. They were just getting ready to leave when the intercom buzzed. Nina pushed to talk.

“Toto je policie,” came a crackly voice through the intercom. Emily didn’t need to speak Czech to understand what that meant.

“Hold on,” Nina said. She buzzed them into the building, then put the chain on her door. When they knocked on the door, she opened it as far as the chain would allow, and stood in the crack. There were two burly male officers on the other side.

“You speak English?” said one of them, a square-jawed man in his 30s. “We have reports of public indecency.”

“I couldn’t say anything about that,” said Nina.

“Madam, is there anyone else in there with you?”

“No,” said Nina.

The other officer produced an iPad and showed it to Nina. “Do you recognise her?”

At that moment, Emily tried to suppress a sneeze. She failed.

“Madam, you know lying to a police officer is a criminal offence?” the first officer said. “If you don’t co-operate I will have no choice but to take you in.”

Nina sighed and unchained the door, allowing the cops into her apartment. Their eyes quickly locked onto Emily.

“Madam,” the second one said to Emily, “is this you?” He showed her the iPad screen – and there it was, a video of her in the pillory, an expression of sexual ecstacy on her face, tits clearly visible and swaying back and forth. Someone had recorded her from ground level and then passed it onto the police.

There was no point denying it. “Yes, that’s me,” said Emily. “I’m sorry.”

“This is a very serious incident,” said the square-jawed cop. “You’re under arrest.”

Emily’s mouth hung open in shock as each of the officers grasped one of her arms.

“Hold on, officers,” Tom said, “is this really necessary? How about a spot fine?”

“Sir, I understand your concerns, but we have a duty to take sexual crime very seriously, especially when children could have been affected. Your friend will need to spend the night in the cells while we work out what to do.”

The officers bundled a tearful Emily out of Nina’s flat, down the stone steps, and out onto the street. Tom and Nina followed after them. They roughly bent Emily over the hood of their car and handcuffed her behind her back, before bundling her into the back of the car.

“Where are you taking her?” Nina asked.

“The station at Benediktská 1. She can call you when she gets out.”

“Oh, no, I’m going straight after you,” Tom said. Nina put her hand on his shoulder.

“That is your right, sir, but it won’t expedite her release.”

“Expedite…” Tom scoffed.

“Tom, you need to take a moment,” Nina said. “Let them do their job. Don’t make things worse for Emily.”

Tom took a breath and looked at his fiancée. She was locked in the backseat. She stared out through the tinted window at him with tears in his eyes. It broke his heart to see her genuinely upset. He had half a mind to try to break open the car door and pull her out, as futile as that would be.

The car pulled away down the narrow street. Pedestrians got onto the pavement to clear a path.

“Tom, listen to me,” said Nina, steel in her voice. “Emily will be fine. They’ll probably just give her a formal caution and let her go. The best thing you can do for her is calm yourself down. She will need your support. You can’t just go charging after her like a raging bull. We’ll have sandwiches, help you calm down, then we’ll go down to the station and wait for her. OK?”

Tom exhaled firmly. His jaw was clenched. “Fine. You’re right. But we’re not going to hang around. Twenty minutes and we’re going after her.”

——————————————

Tom and Nina ended up sitting in the lobby of the police station for eight hours. Nina tried to keep Tom’s mind occupied – not least because she was bored out of her skull – but he was too restless. She’d popped out to buy them each a salad at about 8, and had been afraid that Tom, having refused to leave Emily for a minute, might have got himself arrested while she was out.

Nina was asleep, leaned up against the water cooler, her mouth agape, when a middle-aged female officer approached Tom with a rigidly neutral expression.

“Your girlfriend is in for indecent behaviour, yes?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” said Tom.

“So there are two options. Normally for a sex offence, we detain the accused until trial. Something like this, she could get up to six months.”

Tom’s stomach sank. Six months! He wasn’t sure how Emily would cope – and he was sure she didn’t deserve that.

“Alternatively,” the officer continued, “first time offender, minor charge… we could give a spot fine. 275,000 Kč. She gets out straight away, no criminal record. What do you think?”

There was no question in Tom’s mind. He very quickly estimated the exchange rate – about 1:400, that made it about a £600 fine – but at that point in time he didn’t really care. He would have handed over the deed to his flat to get Emily out without charges.

Five minutes later, Emily was out. Her make-up was running down her face, her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair was disheveled. Tom pulled her into a strong embrace and they both sobbed.

Nina stirred. “Oh, you’re out then?” she said. Tom and Emily broke their embrace and Emily looked at Nina. “Chin up, darling, it’s over now,” said Nina with a reassuring smile.

Nina led them home. It was late, and the streets were full of drunken tourists staggering around and singing bawdy songs. One of them made a pass at Nina as she led her friends back to her apartment, but she just ignored him. Fortunately, it was only a ten-minute walk.

“I think we could all use a drink after that,” Nina said, as they took off their shoes. “Let’s finish off the Armagnac.”

“I’m starving,” said Emily.

“I’ll make you some toast,” Nina said, pouring the drinks.

“Coeliac,” Emily and Tom said simultaneously.

“Sit down and relax with your drinks,” said Tom. “I’ll handle the food. What would you like, Em?”

“Oh, just a salad of some sort…”

“There’s plenty of greens in the fridge, probably some feta too,” Nina said.

Tom found a bowl and arranged a salad for Emily. He then put some toast on for himself.

“You were right, Tom,” said Emily mournfully. “God, I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Tom said. “You were unlucky, that’s all. I bet most people who try exhibitionism don’t get arrested. Especially not in Prague, of all places.”

They are and drank in subdued silence.

“You know, all things considered, Emily, the least I can do is offer you my bed for the night. It will be more comfortable,” Nina said.

Emily wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Are you propositioning me? Because I’m really not in the mood, sorry.”

“No, god, no. I’m just offering you the good bed. I’d sleep in the spare room.”

“And it’s a proper bed? Not a sex swing, or a torture device?”

“I promise, just a normal bed. I insist.”

Emily shoved one last leaf of spinach into her mouth and chewed it over. “Thank you, Nina. I really appreciate it.”

They put their plates and glasses in the dishwasher and Nina showed them to her room. Despite Nina’s reassurances, Emily was daunted by the prospect of finding that it was a sex dungeon, full of black leather and chains.

It was, to put it mildly, somewhat of a surprise when she opened the door to reveal a room with fluffy pillows, hot pink wallpaper, and a large poster of N-sync.

——————————

Despite the night’s excitement, Tom woke up at 5:30AM. Emily was sound asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb her. With the suitcases in the spare room with Nina, he had no choice but to dress in the same clothes he’d worn the previous day.

He went outside. Prague was at its quietest just before the dawn. He strolled down to Charles Bridge, which was only a few minutes away. Even at that hour, it was littered with a smattering of tourists, mostly couples – either young or else retirees, not parents with small children.

Tom walked most of the way along the bridge, admiring the statues the best he could in the faint light. As he approached the far end, he stood opposite the statue of St. Augustine and stared up at the heavens. He lost himself admiring the majesty above.

His phone buzzed. It usually did shortly after 6AM, when it came off Do Not Disturb. He checked it – yes, 6:02AM, and he’d just got a marketing email from an Australian game developer. But before he could put his phone back in his pocket, he saw another notification – one late last night, from American Express.

He opened his AmEx app, and nearly had a heart attack. Last night his card had been used to make a very large payment – five figures. He didn’t understand. Had he drunkenly decided to pay for the entire wedding before bed? No, he remembered declining Nina’s offer of Armagnac. Had his card been stolen? He reached into his wallet and leafed through – thank goodness, there it was.

Fortunately, it was American Express – 24/7 customer service. He gave them a call. He strolled absent-mindedly back to the centre of the bridge as the phone rang.

Suddenly, a bicycle rushed past him, and the cyclist snatched the phone from Tom’s hand.

“Hey – stop, thief!”

Tom had never been a fast runner, but he had decent stamina. He gave chase. The thief was getting away, but in the twilight, Tom thought there was a decent chance that he would collide with an absent-minded tourist – or better yet, one of them would deliberately tackle the thief. Tom kept on his tail, trying to run straight down the bridge as the cyclist weaved around people. Tom’s lungs burned. Nobody made a move to help him – in fairness, it would have been unreasonable to expect elderly Canadian couples with osteoporosis to throw themselves at a speeding bike. By the time Tom made it off the bridge, he was on his last legs, but could still see the cyclist about 20 metres ahead of him, down a small slope and just crossing the first road. Tom staggered breathlessly down the slope, carried more by gravity and momentum than by his own effort. An early-morning tram pulled in front of him before he could cross the road. Tom bent over, hands on his knees, wheezing. By the time the tram pulled away there was no sign of the thief.

——————————

Not wanting to wake Emily or Nina too early, Tom made his way to Old Town Square. His anger and frustration were a welcome distraction from the sinking feeling in his stomach about the huge credit card transaction he could no longer dispute. His hamstrings were tight and he was hobbling slightly – in any case, he had to take things slowly as he had pushed himself beyond his comfort zone sprinting after the thief. Without his phone, he was wandering blindly in the half-remembered vague direction of the square. Eventually he found it, although he entered from a different corner than the one he expected.

He found a bench in the square, not far from the Old Town Hall. He couldn’t see the astronomical clock, but frankly that wasn’t as useful for telling the time as the clock towers. He sat and listened to the birds: pigeons, starlings, robins, sparrows. It was something, at least. The cafes were not open yet, which was a bit strange in a major international city – in London some cafes would be open very early in the morning to serve people coming off night shifts or about to start morning shifts. There might have been somewhere open somewhere in the city, but without his phone he couldn’t be sure.

When the bells rang for 7AM, he made his way back to Nina’s – fortunately, he knew the way. Nina sounded groggy on the intercom, but buzzed him in.

“What happened?” Nina asked when he got up, yawning and stretching.

“I’m going to get Emily up,” Tom said.

“Are you sure? She’s probably worn out from last night. I’d let her sleep in.”

Tom sighed. “You’re probably right, but… well, there was a weird charge to my credit card, and then my phone got stolen, so…”

“Oh no, are you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m just angry more than anything. But I guess there’s no point waking Emily up. There’s nothing she can do.”

“Well, you know, except provide you with comfort and support. That’s the cornerstone of a relationship.”

Tom weighed it up. “You’ve got a point. I guess shouldering the burden myself so that she can get some extra sleep is my way of supporting her.”

Nina shrugged. “It’s your relationship,” she said. She went to the fridge and pulled out two glasses half-full with thick green liquid. She set them down on the breakfast bar, then grabbed a carton of soy milk and shut the fridge. She diluted down the drink with the milk and gave it a stir. “You’ll feel better once you’ve had breakfast,” she said.

Tom couldn’t disagree – he was ravenous. He took one of the glasses in hand and eyed it with suspicion. “What is it?”

“It’s a smoothie I make myself in weekly batches. Guava, kale, a few different berries and seeds. Chin-chin.” Nina said, clinking her glass against Tom’s. He seized the moment and took a mouthful. The kale was definitely the dominant flavour. More striking than the bitterness, though, was the texture – the drink was very bitty, full of seeds and pulp.

“God, I thought you said it was a smoothie?”

Nina laughed. “Work hard, play hard. That’s the work hard that balances out the alcohol. Chia, flax, amaranth, and guava seeds. Plenty of fibre and nutrients. It’ll do you good.”

Tom drank his glass up, though he found it only slightly more pleasant than sprinting across Charles Bridge on an empty stomach. “I guess it’s an acquired taste.”

“At first I found using any amount of kale or spinach completely overpowered the fruit,” said Nina. “So I leant into that. I season it a little bit with ginger and the berries, but really I’m drinking it for the nutrients rather than the taste. Although as you say, I don’t mind it as much now.” She wiped her hand across her mouth, clearing away a little bit of green residue from her lips. “Right. What can we do about your situation?”

Tom sighed. “Probably nothing. I use a password manager, so until I get back to my computer I’m not sure I can prove to anyone that I am who I say I am. And it’s not like my phone is any use to the thieves – even if they somehow stop it locking, they can’t get into my bank accounts or anything like that.”

“Right. Hmm. This disputed charge – can you remember what it said it was?”

“Late last night. It was a random amount, a little over £10,000. The reference was in a foreign language I didn’t recognise.”

“Could it have been Czech?” Nina asked.

“Something like that, yeah. Definitely Slavic.”

“Right. Wasn’t Emily’s fine 275,000 Kč?”

“Yeah, but that’s only, what, £400?”

Nina winced. “Tom, you’re thinking of Hungarian forints. £1 is about 25-30 koruna. Add in currency conversion fees…”

A feeling of dread washed over Tom. Losing his phone was one thing – it was backed up, secured, and insured. But he could not afford to spend over ten thousand pounds.

“I’m sorry, I should have said something sooner,” Nina said. “I was asleep when you paid, but I thought you must have been able to afford it when you were so casual about it.”

“A year ago I would have been able to,” Tom said. “I could afford that. It would have stung, but I was saving for a deposit, I could have used a load of that. Now most of my money is tied up in the flat. I’ll have to carry some debt on my credit card for a few months until I can pay it all off. I’m lucky, I’ll survive… seriously, they fined her that much? That’s exorbitant! How do regular people ever afford that?”

“I suspect, darling, that the police took one look at my apartment, one look at Emily, one look at you, heard that we were English speakers, and correctly concluded they could easily fleece you for much more than the standard fine.”

Tom ran his hand through his hair. “God, you know the worst part? This really blows a hole in the wedding budget. We’ll have to cut back on something. Probably the honeymoon. We’ve paid for most of the big-ticket stuff, so that’s the only way we can make a saving.”

“Well, you know what they say – a wedding is a party, but a marriage is better.”

“Is that a saying?”

“Well, no,” said Nina. “But it’s what I think, and I find that invoking folk wisdom tends to give my views more credibility.”

“Does folk wisdom say that you should have a glass of guava and kale every morning?”

“It does now.”

“But seriously – does settling down appeal to you?”

“Oh, immensely. I mean, I’m a woman in her thirties, most of us have baby fever. Although I don’t much like the thought of pregnancy or motherhood, but I do actually want the tenderness of a relationship.”

“Is it just the difficulty of finding a full-time sub?” Tom said. “I mean, you’re a beautiful, intelligent woman with a high-flying job and property in two countries. I’d have thought you’d basically have your pick.”

“Well, as you know, I’m not prepared to tolerate bad sex. And most subs – male subs, at least – tend to be… I don’t know, but not marriage material, at least for me.”

“You know,” Tom said playfully, “I’m a little bit insulted to be told I’m bad at sex.”

Nina raised both eyebrows. “It is far too early in the day, and we are both far too sober, for this conversation. But to be honest with you… you’re skilled, but the only time I ever got off with you was when we disciplined Emily together.”

“Wow. Woooooow. OK. Ouch.”

———————————————–

When Emily woke up, she had a much sunnier disposition than the previous night. Sleep had left her refreshed and raring to go. When Tom recounted his own unfortunate morning to her, it brought her down a bit, but she gave him a hug and they both felt a little better.

Nina had work to do, so the two lovers went to explore Prague on their own, both dressed in jeans and t-shirts. Emily now had the only phone, so she was responsible for navigation and choosing their destination. She took them to the Jewish Quarter to see the cemetery and the synagogues.

“To be honest, I just knew you’d look goofy in a kippah,” Emily said teasingly as they emerged from the cemetery. But the Spanish Synagogue proved to be a sight for sore eyes in its own right, a stunningly beautiful building that combined Moorish design choices with modern refurbishment and refinement.

They stopped for a sit-down lunch in a cafe.

“Can I tell you something?” Emily asked. “Jail was scary, but also…” she leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “really, really hot.”

Tom shifted in his seat – not because the thought made him uncomfortable, but because his sudden erection did. He tried to subtly adjust his underwear, without much luck. “Do you… do you want to try incorporating elements of your experience in the bedroom?”

“I do. I really do.”

“Well, let’s speak to Nina about it this evening. She’s bound to have ideas.” Tom paused for a second. “Emily, we haven’t had a chance to talk about it, but I’m not happy that you let Nina discipline you without me there. We’re a couple. If someone else is involved in our sex life then that should be because we’ve both invited them.”

Emily hung her head. “I’m sorry. You were sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb you. I didn’t think. It was a stupid mistake.”

“Hey,” Tom reached out and rubbed her shoulder. “It’s fine, babe. We make mistakes. I forgive you.”

“But it’s not just that. I got arrested. We got fined. Your phone got stolen. It’s all my fault. I’ve ruined the trip.”

Tom leaned round and gave her a hug. “Em, did you remember to take your antidepressants this morning?”

Emily sniffed. “Oh. No. I guess that explains why I feel this way.”

“I’m sorry for confronting you without checking first,” said Tom. “But your self-hatred is a liar. You are a wonderful person who made a couple of bad decisions, the sort anyone could make. You definitely aren’t responsible for my phone getting stolen, or for the police ripping us off. I love you.”

Emily took some deep breaths and steadied herself. They finished their meal.

“Back to Nina’s for your antidepressant?” Tom asked.

“Best not. Don’t want to disturb her while she works, and anyway, if I take it now I’ll be up all night.”

“I was planning on keeping you up all night anyway.”

Emily gave him a gentle swat on the arm. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said, plugging something into her phone, “come on, it’s just around the corner.”

Emily brought them to another cafe. This one specialised in proper hot chocolate – milk with chocolate melted into it. Emily went for a deep and rich dark chocolate. Tom was tempted to match her order, and prove that he was the sort of person who drank dark chocolate. He had a second thought, and instead ordered white chocolate.

Fifteen minutes later, Emily lowered her mug, looking and feeling deeply satisfied.

“Better?” Tom asked.

“Much better,” she said with a smile. “Come on, let’s head up to the castle. There’s so much to see up there.”

————————————————

They spent the whole day exploring. Emily’s phone died while they were getting dinner in a restaurant, so they made their way back to Nina’s using a combination of intuition and memory.

“There you are,” said Nina. “Did Emily’s phone get stolen too?”

“It’s dead,” said Emily, pulling it out of the pocket of her jeans.

“I was going to suggest we pop out for a drink,” said Nina, “but frankly I’d rather we stayed in now. I want some action.”

“You’re surprisingly bad at talking dirty, you know,” said Tom.

“Look, this isn’t my usual modus operandi. The average sub makes a mess in their pants when you tell them they’ve been very bad, but that’s not going to work on you, Tom. Anyway, we need to discuss our plans.”

“I had thoughts, actually,” said Emily.

Nina went to tell her to be quiet and let the adults talk, but caught herself.

“I actually… I mean, part of me enjoyed being in jail, despite it all. I think I’d like to be put in a cage. I’m not quite sure where to go from there.”

“Well, I have a cage,” said Nina. “Got to be honest, I like having someone locked in there, but it does make sex a bit more awkward. There are basically three options, given that I don’t want to just lock you up and ignore you. The first is we try to make things work through the bars. The second is that you put on a show for us. And the third is that we cuck you.”

“Sorry, cuck? Like… cunt-fuck?”

“No, not at all. I’d have sex with Tom while you watched. The cage would stop you intervening. You’d be powerless.”

“I’m not in the mood for that,” Tom said.

“Putting on a show appeals,” said Emily. “I just want you both to feel some pleasure.”

“Alright, hold on, I’m starting to have an idea…”

—————————

With a little difficulty, they moved the cage through to the living room. It was heavy and awkward, despite being degradingly small – it wasn’t designed for comfort. Nina also gathered up some smaller implements she was thinking of incorporating.

“Emily, if you want to be let out, your safe word is “Houdini”. If you want all sex to stop, just say “red light”. You’re a big girl, you know the drill.” Nina said.

“Look, I’ll level with you both,” Tom said. “I’m just not excited by the thought of a threesome. I’m not aroused. My head’s not in the right place.”

Emily reached up and stroked his cheek. “Let’s see about that, shall we?” She kissed him on the lips and slipped a hand down his jeans.

Nina poured herself three fingers of whisky and sat down on the sofa, lounging back to enjoy the view. Surely, she thought, Tom wouldn’t be able to resist Emily’s advances.

She was right. Tom broke the kiss, instead kissing her neck as he pulled Emily’s t-shirt up to her clavicle, holding it in place with his left hand. He then yanked her bra down, revealing her breasts, which sat firm above her now-useless undergarment. He dropped to his knees, kissing Emily’s stomach with his hands groping her soft tits. Emily struggled to unbutton her jeans as Tom ran his tongue around her navel. It was like a switch had been thrown inside them. Emily had successfully sparked Tom’s sex drive and was now suddenly having to keep up with his ravenous hunger for her.

Emily fell backwards onto the other sofa. Tom grabbed the legs of her jeans and tugged them off. She smiled devilishly. “Please, Master, eat me.”

He stuck his head between her thighs and took a big sniff of her musk. He slipped her panties off, then ran a trail of kisses down her right thigh, from the inside of her knee all the way up to her outer labia. As he circled in on her clitoris, Emily squirmed with pleasure, her elbows and shoulder blades digging into the plush settee. Her hands went to Tom’s on her breasts, holding them in place as he ate her out. Emily’s breaths were short and shallow. Tom might have needed some encouragement to get aroused, but she hadn’t – she was very turned on, and the oral sex was only accelerating her rush towards orgasm.

Their lovemaking was suddenly interrupted by a clanging sound that made them both turn their heads. Nina had got up and opened the cage door. “That’s quite enough of that. In you go, prisoner.”

Emily struggled to her feet, her arms cramping. She stepped over to the cage and dropped to her knees in front of the cage door. Kneeling at Nina’s feet, she finally pulled off her t-shirt and discarded it on the carpet.

“In you go, prisoner,” said Nina.

Emily began to crawl into the cage, but then she felt Tom’s strong hand on her right hip.

“Hold it right there,” Tom said. Emily was on all fours, her navel just over the threshold of the cage. “I’m not done with you yet, inmate. Hands on the bars.”

Emily was caught between the conflicting – indeed, outright contradictory – requests of the two Doms. All things considered, she prioritised Tom’s demand, putting her hands on the bars on the far side of the cage.

Kneeling behind Emily, Tom undid his jeans and pulled them down to his knees, along with his boxer briefs. This liberated his erect cock, already stood at full mast. Tom gave Nina a wink as she sipped on her whisky, before sliding his dick into Emily’s slick vagina.

Nina admired the view: Emily as the damsel in distress clinging desperately to the bars of her cage for support, while Tom fucked her from behind. Their fucking wasn’t fluid or graceful – Tom was not entirely comfortable kneeling on his jeans – but the scene more than made up for it. Nina had to hand it to Tom. Watching him fuck Emily through the cage door was exquisite. “You like that, inmate?” Tom said, grabbing a fistful of Emily’s hair.

“Punish… me…” Emily panted.

Tom gave her a few spanks, synchronised with some slow but forceful thrusts of his hips. That was all Emily needed. She came, hard.

“I should have put towels down,” Nina remarked dryly, as Emily voided onto the previously spotless carpet.

Tom had the restraint to pull out, his cock still hard and throbbing. He stood up, now completely naked, and turned away. He was controlling his breath, eyes screwed shut, clearly edging back from the precipice of his own orgasm.Nina put her drink down on the kitchen countertop and picked up a pair of steel handcuffs. She got behind Emily again and gave her a hard spank. “Enough of that. In you go, prisoner.”

Emily, still recovering from her orgasm, did not have the chance to bask in her afterglow. She crawled completely into the cage, which was too small for her to extend fully in any direction but just big enough for her to twist and turn around.

“Give me your hands,” said Nina. Emily twisted around and presented both wrists out of the cage door. Nina squatted down and cuffed her, before shutting the cage door on Emily’s face. She bolted it shut, then added a large black padlock.

“Well, inmate,” said Nina, “you’ve been sentenced to put on a show for me. Mush, mush. Entertain me, or you’ll be in there for a very long time.”

Emily was still out of breath. She writhed as sexily as she could, but banged her wrist on one of the cage bars, causing it to rattle.

“Do you have to be told how to do everything?” Nina said sharply. “You really do deserve to be in there, you useless slut. Kneel, and spread your legs.”

Emily carefully got to her knees, stooping slightly to avoid banging her head. She slid her knees apart, grateful for her biweekly yoga classes. This gave Nina a great view of Emily’s vulva.

“Spread your labia,” Nina said. “I want to see right into your vagina.”

Emily reached down and slipped two fingers into her entrance, parting them wide for Nina. She glanced over at Tom, who was slowly working the shaft of his penis, his gaze fixed upon her.

“Masturbate for me, slut,” said Nina. Emily did as she was told, sliding her fingers in and out of her vagina as she rubbed the opposite palm around her clit. Nina moved, doing something out of Emily’s eyeline. She could hear the sound of a condom wrapped tearing, and then the condom being quickly applied to a toy. Nina lubricated her hands and rubbed them over the dildo, then squatted down. Emily’s eyes bulged at the enormous toy in her hands – considerably bigger than she was used to working with, or than any realistic penis.

“Get that as far up your pussy as you can, then turn on the vibration and get yourself off for me,” said Nina.

Slightly nervous, but open-minded, Emily shifted around carefully, and placed the head of the dildo against her slick entrance. It eased in fairly easily, Emily’s natural wetness enhanced by the generous lubrication Nina had applied to the toy. Emily was, however, only able to insert a little over half the length before bottoming out. She felt so full, almost uncomfortably so.

“You’re pathetic,” Nina sneered, and Emily felt a shiver run through her at the words. She could scarcely believe how much she got off on the disrespectful way Nina talked to her during role-play. “Let me show you how a real woman takes a real cock.”

Nina passed a wrapped condom through the bars to Emily. “Give that to your fiancé.”

Oh, this was humiliating for Emily. Not only was she allowing Nina to fuck her future husband, but she was being made to give her approval. “Master, this is for you,” Emily said.

Tom stepped towards her. His semi-erect cock was noticeably hardening in front of her. He leaned in as close to her ear as the bars would allow. “Are you sure?”

Emily nodded.

“If you change your mind at any time…”

“I know.”

Emily tore open the condom wrapper. She gestured for Tom to come closer. He knelt straight in front of her, keeping his thighs aligned with his torso. Emily reached out through the bars and rolled the condom down Tom’s dick.

Nina had stripped to her underwear, an emerald-green matching set of bra and panties. Tom stood up, towering over her. Nina put her hand on his washboard abs and pushed him back to the sofa. Tom lay down, squirming to find a comfortable position.

“Watch closely, inmate,” said Nina. “This is how it’s done. I want to see that thing much deeper inside you by the time I’m done, or you’ll be punished.”

Emily fell backwards onto the other sofa. Tom grabbed the legs of her jeans and tugged them off. She smiled devilishly. “Please, Master, eat me.”

Their lovemaking was suddenly interrupted by a clanging sound that made them both turn their heads. Nina had got up and opened the cage door. “That’s quite enough of that. In you go, prisoner.”

“In you go, prisoner,” said Nina.

Emily began to crawl into the cage, but then she felt Tom’s strong hand on her right hip.

“Hold it right there,” Tom said. Emily was on all fours, her navel just over the threshold of the cage. “I’m not done with you yet, inmate. Hands on the bars.”

Nina admired the view: Emily as the damsel in distress clinging desperately to the bars of her cage for support, while Tom fucked her from behind. Their fucking wasn’t fluid or graceful – Tom was not entirely comfortable kneeling on his jeans – but the scene more than made up for it. Nina had to hand it to Tom. Watching him fuck Emily through the cage door was exquisite. She slipped her free hand into her panties, forefinger gliding into her wetness while her thumb gently massaged her clitoris. “You like that, inmate?” Tom said, grabbing a fistful of Emily’s hair.