At Your Mercy: Tales of Domination. Various

he wouldn’t let me touch him, wouldn’t let me near his fly or his cock or anything, so while he was sucking away at me I grabbed his hand and pushed it between my legs and made him rub up and down over my pussy which made him buck and groan and bite me all the harder, and it was pretty pervy in a good way. In fact, I was on the point of coming when his mobile phone buzzed underneath me. It was his wife, and that was the end of that.

      ‘It’s time to move on,’ Lucy says to me frequently. ‘Anyway, we’re all sick and tired of hearing how that bastard was the love of your life.’

      Not Colin, obviously. She means Jamie. And she’s right. I’ve bored everyone rigid with my misery. So this year my new body and I intend to enjoy ourselves. It would be a waste of all this super subtle work, otherwise. These slim, toned legs want to open and wrap around a man. These big bouncy breasts want a man’s, or men’s, lips to suck them. But men aren’t handed to you on a plate, are they?

      Lucy means well, but she’s always busy with her own life, dropping in and out of mine when she smells a party. She’ll never understand how he broke my heart.

      Tonight I want to be alone. I dim the lights, just have Miles Davis serenading me. Then I slip into the bath with a sigh, sinking into the whispering bubbles.

      A man on a plate. How would that be? My legs fall open as I imagine him. My toes curl round the taps as I try to picture him, but he always has Jamie’s face. I want him to stride into the bathroom, heave me out of the water, throw me down on the cold hard floor and fuck me right there, all wet and slippery.

      The foam covers each breast. I push them upwards through the bubbles and my nipples harden. I can be proud of them again. Jamie used to love sucking them. I used to wear tight, low tops, until they got so big that I looked like a cheap barmaid. But, even when they were huge, Jamie still used to rip at my clothes, fondle my tits, scrape his chin over my soft skin and bite on my nipples until desire rose and blossomed inside me and I screeched at him to do it to me, wherever we were.

      But even while he was fucking me back then, only a year ago, he must have been planning his escape. Maybe he was finding me so repellent he had to think of someone else while we were at it, someone slimmer and more confident. Someone like the old me.

      I can feel desire seething in me now as I part my legs under the water, find my hand soaping my pussy. I push myself upwards in the water. My tits are like cream cakes, the nipple a dark cherry popping on top. That reminds me. Food.

      As I’m sinking lower in the water, my fingers crawling up inside me now, I think I can hear the front door banging. My eyes snap open, heart thudding. As I rise like a mermaid out of the water, everything, the steam, the tiles, the taps, swims before me. I wrap a towel round me and pad out into the living room, feeling faint from the too-hot water. The towel grazes my still hard nipples. No sign of anyone. Must have been the wind. Back to the bath?