I had a problem, but it wasn’t one I was particularly eager to fix. Adrienne was just too good, with an extraordinary ability to strike to the heart of my sexuality and the strength to stop me backing out when my feelings began to get stronger than I might otherwise have been able to handle. Putting me in a nappy had brought out my feelings of sexual shame in a new and delightful way, while spanking me in that awful, humiliating position had been the final, perfect touch. The episode had also established a wonderful intimacy between us, as we now shared a secret sufficiently taboo to shock all but the most debauched.

      That was the good side. The bad side was that she had assumed ownership of me, so fast and so completely that I’d missed my opportunity for the very necessary heart-to-heart talk we should have had on our first day together. I hadn’t even told her I had a boyfriend back in London, Magnus, and, although we agreed to a fully open relationship while I was in France, he was sure to visit. So was Stacey, who’d been keeping my bottom warm for me since shortly after I’d joined the company and would want to continue doing so.

      Yet if I did tell Adrienne about all this, I was going to end up with relationship issues – either a discontented partner or an ex living almost next door, an ex who’d spanked me and put me in nappies. That was the last thing I needed, with my job more difficult by the day and the pleasure of coming home to Adrienne ever more important. I meant to tell her on the Saturday but it was a cloudy, cool day and we went shopping instead of sunbathing. Sunday was the same, cuddled up together in bed for most of the morning, and when it brightened up in the early afternoon she suggested walking to the Bois de Boulogne. I knew what that meant, and again it was an irresistible alternative to an upsetting conversation all too likely to turn into a full-blown row.

      The first time I’d met Adrienne she’d been with her friend Giselle, who worked in insurance but had a taste for the gothic and darker side of sex, dressing completely in black at the weekends to enjoy watching men being dominated, particularly by other men. She wasn’t averse to girls either, and I’d already had my face sat on, but what she really liked was to see a man, the more respectable the better, with another man’s cock in his mouth.

      Giselle was coming with us and we met in their favourite café in the Rue Poussin, full of nervous excitement as we drank a round of pastis to get up a little Dutch courage. As I knew from Adrienne, the important thing was to go out at dusk rather than after dark, and to stay clear of certain areas. If there were any police around, we were simply three innocent young women out for a walk, as she explained as we made our way up the Route de Boulogne à Passy.

      ‘They’re not really concerned with the amateurs, or the locals, more the reputation of the area for sex tourism. Still, we have to go a little way in, because I think we ought to introduce Lucy to a Brazilian, don’t you, Giselle?’

      ‘Yes, a big one. I’ll call Sabrina.’

      I began to speak, already feeling as if I was a toy for their amusement and not quite ready for it, but then went quiet, telling myself I’d get the best experience by letting them take control. A brief phone call and Giselle had arranged something for me, something that set my heart fluttering as we turned in among the bushes, because I had a fairly shrewd idea what they were planning. She made two more calls, leaving me with a serious case of the jitters as I imagined being made to service a string of men.

      We’d come to an area of dense undergrowth cut through with a maze of little tracks, but Adrienne and Giselle seemed to know where they were going, and led me to a place where a huge oak sheltered an area of open grass. Leaning against the tree was a person who could only be Sabrina, well over six feet of improbably voluptuous curves packed into a leopard-print dress and supported by lipstick-pink high heels, with a mane of glossy blonde hair falling almost to her waist. She stepped forward as she saw us.

      ‘Hello, girls, and the new one.’ Her voice was deep and rich. ‘I thought you said you had a little something for me?’

      Adrienne applied a firm pat to the seat of my jeans, sending me a couple of steps forward.

      ‘We do, this. She’s called Lucy and she’s very English.’

      Sabrina had joined us, and to my shock and horror her hand went straight between my legs to squeeze my pussy. Then she stepped back with an arch look, wrinkling her nose.

      ‘Do I smell pussy? I certainly think I felt pussy.’

      I was too taken aback to speak, and Giselle was laughing, but Adrienne merely sounded amused.

      ‘Yes, Sabrina, fresh English pussy, and she’s yours to play with.’

      ‘Why, thank you. Look up, pretty one.’

      She put a finger under my chin, in that same commanding gesture Adrienne so often used, and tilted my head up to look into her eyes. I could feel myself melting, unable to resist the way they were using me. Sabrina had clearly accepted Adrienne’s offer, for her fingers were exploring the contours of my hips and bottom, my waist and breasts, as she looked down at me. Her gaze had me mesmerised, and even as she hauled up my top to bare my breasts to the cool evening air I couldn’t find the will to resist, but put my hands on my head to make them lift and give her full, easy access.

      ‘Perky little thing, aren’t you? And such stiff nipples, like little corks.’

      Her hands were cupping my breasts, her thumbs making circles around my nipples, bringing both teats to erection and making me whimper in response, then cry out as she ducked down to take one between her teeth. I closed my eyes, lost in shame and ecstasy, and it wasn’t until I opened them again that I realised we were no longer alone. Two men had come into the clearing, one small and dapper, one plump and curiously soft-looking, but both so diffident