“Oh my God, Emma! I can’t believe it!”

“Neelam! Oh my God! What are you doing here? Do you work at the bank now?” The two old friends hugged enthusiastically.

“Yes. I run Global Retail Asia. I’ve been based here in Canary Wharf for the past eleven years. What about you? I thought you were still in Vietnam.”

“Oh God, no! I came back when I met Jason - that’s him over there. He works for the bank too, but it seems he’s not as high up as you. He’s based in the City building. We got married in 2012 and moved back to London in October after nine years in Frankfurt. What about you, Neelam? Is there a special man or woman in your life now?”

“Yes - just a man, I’m afraid. I’m not that exciting! He’s not here though - he doesn’t like Christmas parties. Bhavik is much more of a ‘stay in and watch television’ kind of guy. But you must introduce me to your husband. Did you say it’s Jason?”

“Yes. Hey Jason! Come here!” Emma shouted excitedly, gesturing for him to come over. Unfortunately, Jason seemed engrossed in conversation with an attractive young colleague and initially ignored his wife. But, after a second, more urgent demand from Emma, he excused himself and walked across the busy function room to join her.”

“Jason - this is Neelam. We were at uni together. It seems she’s kind of your boss now.”

Neelam thought Jason seemed piqued with his wife for pointing out his professional inferiority. He looked slightly older than Emma, with a tall, fit and toned physique, luxurious blond hair, piercing blue eyes and a tanned complexion; presumably, a younger woman holding a position of seniority bruised his ego. But he quickly recovered his composure and affected an old-fashioned charm.

“Delighted,” Jason said, slightly bowing as he shook Neelam’s hand firmly. “I’m sure you have many tales to tell about my wife’s younger years - probably many I wouldn’t want to hear.”

Neelam could tell that despite Jason’s attempt at conversation, his mind was elsewhere.

“Hmmm… I can think of a few. Do you remember that night at Ministry of Sound, Emma? Oh my God!”

Neelam began telling Jason about a drunken night at a nightclub in their youth, but he seemed uninterested. Finally, after Neelam had completed her story, he laughed politely, excused himself and joined a young intern from his department.

“So tell me about your husband. Bhavin?”

“Bhavik. Yeah, he’s lovely. He’s not the adventurous type as I say but he’s solid and dependable, and a good shoulder to cry on when things get stressful at work,” Neelam explained. “No kids yet - he wants to try but with work and everything we’ve put it on the back burner. I don’t suppose we can leave it much longer though. What about you?”

“Well, that explains your amazing figure,” Emma said, looking down at Neelam’s petite, size six frame. “No, no kids for us either. We’re happy without, for the moment.”

Neelam wasn’t convinced Emma was content with being childless, but she didn’t press her friend further.

“Hey, we must catch up sometime. Are you local? Let’s meet for lunch?” Neelam changed the subject, knowing time was short. She would have loved to spend the evening hearing about Emma’s life since university but knew she had to continue working the room, thanking the staff for their hard work and successes over the past year.

“That would be great!” Emma replied. “How about Saturday? We’re in Greenwich, what about you?”

“No way! I’m in Shooters Hill! Do you know the Gipsy Moth pub by Cutty Sark? Let’s meet there. What say we have lunch and a bottle of wine? My treat. I’ll have finished at the gym by then, and I’ll be in the area.”

“It’s a date! But no shots! I remember what you were like with your shots!” Emma looked at Neelam with mock disapproval.

“Okay, no shots.” Neelam laughed. “Great! I’ll see you then!”

The two friends swapped numbers, then hugged and said goodbye.

**********

When Neelam returned home, Bhavik was stretched out on the sofa, watching a football match on television. His T-shirt was too small, and his cotton jogging pants drooped beneath the slight paunch he was developing. Neelam knew her husband liked to chill out after work, but with his five o’clock shadow and shabby appearance, she felt she sometimes deserved something better to come home to. It would be nice if he showered, shaved, put on a suit and swept her off to a restaurant now and again, as he had done when they were first married.

Even if he joined her at the gym to work out with her in the evenings, it would be an improvement, but he showed no interest in the gym anymore. Neelam would have loved to go home with him afterwards, strip off and finish their session with an athletic fuck as the serotonin and endorphins coursed through their energised bodies. She would have enjoyed the intimacy and excitement of being roughly and powerfully taken by the man she loved, submitting herself to his dirty, testosterone-fuelled demands and being treated as his slut rather than his wife.

But Bhavik was often too tired to get energetic between the sheets, and his increasingly flabby body was a shadow of the taut, muscular physique he had developed during their courtship and early married life. When they did have sex, it was nice, but all of the adventure, experimentation, and kinkiness had long since disappeared.

When Neelam and Bhavik first met shortly after leaving university, they had enjoyed trying out toys and fetish play. She often wished they could go back and relive those exciting days. One of Neelam’s favourite kinks was bondage; she loved to be tied as Bhavik fucked her. It wasn’t the physical feeling she loved - bondage could be very uncomfortable - but the emotional thrill of submitting herself turned Neelam on. The sense of danger and helplessness as Bhavik used her body got her wet and excited, particularly when he was rough and forced himself into her mouth or anus. He had even urinated on her a few times, which had been as exhilarating as it was degrading.

Having been the boss at work all day, mild BDSM allowed her to explore the other side of her character, that of the submissive, doing as she was told, however filthy and depraved it was. She wanted it; it was how she chose to explore her sexuality, and it reminded her that a woman doesn’t always need to call the shots to hold the power.

Once, she had even persuaded Bhavik to take her to Torture Garden, the fetish club in London. Neelam had loved the dark theatricality and liberating vibe, and she desperately wanted to experience all the fetish scene had to offer. She demanded more exciting, dangerous and thrilling BDSM scenarios in the bedroom, and the thrill of being used became hard-wired into her psyche.

Unfortunately, these forays into wilder, more adventurous sex never excited Bhavik as they did Neelam. Sometimes if one of their scenarios didn’t go entirely to plan, rather than persisting with it until they got it right, Bhavik didn’t want to try it again. It seemed like he experimented sexually to tick a box on his bucket list, not because it was part of his deeper sexual makeup. So after a while, Neelam found their sex life following a more predictable and vanilla path: satisfactory and loving, but ultimately falling far short of perfect.

And so it was that night. As Bhavik went down on her and expertly brought her to orgasm using his tongue and fingers, she wished her hands were tied firmly to the headboard as he did so, her body thrashing helplessly on the bed as she came noisily on his fingers. And as his cock pounded her from behind, she couldn’t help but imagine how much more exciting it would be with her hands tethered behind her back and a gag in her mouth, her bottom red from the spanking he was giving her. And if, rather than kissing her as he ejaculated inside her, he had forced her to her knees and emptied his balls over her face or into her throat, Neelam would have been impressed at his inventiveness.

She wasn’t sure whether it was energy, imagination or passion Bhavik lacked, but all her attempts to get their sex life out of its rut had failed. She now had to settle for the regular, pleasurable, but ultimately dull and repetitive sex Bhavik could provide. Being a wife was fine, but occasionally being a submissive would have made Neelam’s sex life a million times better.

**********

Neelam rose early on Saturday. Bhavik went to his parents’ house in Coventry every weekend to help build their extension, so she liked to make breakfast before he set off on the long drive. The building project seemed to have taken forever and was still incomplete, and the cold winter weather had further delayed the work. Bhavik said it was unlikely to be finished before summer.

But the slow progress of the extension suited Neelam. She would kiss Bhavik goodbye, and then the weekend was her own. She could do extended gym sessions and get her nails, eyebrows and hair done without having to fit her schedule around her husband’s. She rarely cooked at weekends, preferring to meet friends for lunch or dinner, and so it was when she met Emma at the Gipsy Moth pub.

Seeing Emma again was great. She and Neelam had a wonderful meal together, recalling their experiences of university life and sharing heavily embellished anecdotes about drunken nights out. But as their second bottle of Prosecco turned into a third, the conversation became more personal.

“You know when we met the other day, I said about us being happy without children? That’s not quite true,” Emma said. “We discovered a few years ago that Jason is unlikely ever to be a father - not through natural means, at least. He took the news quite badly at the time, and I must admit, it has impacted on our relationship. He gets angry and aggressive, and I feel he’s over-compensating for his infertility in other ways too.”

“What do you mean?” Neelam asked.

“Well, I don’t know if I should say this, but he’s become quite demanding when we’re… on our own, if you catch my drift. It’s as if he has to demonstrate how much of a stud he is by being dominant in the bedroom, and I don’t like it. He gets way too rough sometimes. And it’s not just that. You must have noticed how he was chatting with all the attractive young women the other night. I know it was the work Christmas party and everyone gets a bit crazy, but it just made me feel a bit foolish if I’m honest. I’m just not sure I can trust him in the way I used to and it’s putting a strain on our marriage.”

“I’m so sorry, Emma.” Neelam didn’t know what to say. Suddenly Bhavik, for all his predictability, didn’t seem quite so bad.

“So I’m reluctant to continue with fertility treatment until I’m sure our relationship is secure,” Emma had concluded.

The sad revelation spoiled what had otherwise been a pleasant afternoon, and although Neelam felt sorry for Emma, she felt awkward that Emma had unburdened herself to such an extent. Even at university, they had never been intimate, and such deeply personal revelations made Neelam uncomfortable. So, without consciously deciding not to meet Emma again, the lunch date was never repeated.

Neelam and Emma did meet quite frequently, however. Emma invited Neelam to come along when she was going out with friends, and it was nice for Neelam to spend some time with her in less intense situations. But, much to her surprise, Neelam found herself seeing much more of Jason than she did Emma in the subsequent months.

She couldn’t be sure if Jason had previously belonged to her gym, and she had only noticed him now they were acquainted, but he was frequently there after work or at weekends. At first, he didn’t seem to recognise her, but when she greeted him by name, he must have made the connection because afterwards, he used her name when he said hello.

Jason kept himself to himself when at the gym. Other guys offered to spot for Neelam when she was using the free weights, but Jason never extended any such invitation. Perhaps he suspected his wife had over-shared about his fertility problems, and he felt embarrassed or ashamed. Still, Jason never engaged Neelam in conversation or suggested a coffee with her afterwards. Instead, he seemed focused on his goals; pushing himself further and faster on the treadmill or static bike and lifting increasingly challenging loads.

And it was paying off. Sometimes Neelam would find herself on a treadmill behind Jason’s static bike, and she would admire his thick, toned hamstrings and calf muscles as he cycled, and ogle his firm, tight buttocks when he raised himself from the saddle. Other times she would find herself sitting opposite him on the resistance machines, admiring his V-shaped torso and powerful shoulders and arms as he worked the chest and shoulder presses. And his Lycra shorts left little to the imagination; he might be infertile, but his cock and balls were impressive in every other regard.

Sometimes Neelam felt guilty about checking Jason out, so she would give him something to look at in return when she was feeling mischievous. Taking the bike in front of his for the spin class, she hoped he would enjoy a view of the thong bisecting her small, round bottom under her thin leggings as she rose from the saddle, moving her hips seductively for him as she pedalled. It was innocent, kittenish fun, but if Jason enjoyed her flirting, he never let on.

**********

Neelam was leaving the gym one evening after a demanding spin class when things suddenly changed. Andrea, the instructor, had commended her for her effort, telling her she was finding it hard to give Neelam the challenge she needed and that she might consider moving up to the advanced class run by one of her colleagues. Neelam was delighted to get such praise, particularly because Jason had been lurking nearby and would have overheard the conversation. After a shower, she left the gym with a cheery ‘thank you’ to the receptionist and made her way across the car park.

Neelam noticed a fire door open at the side of the building, and the light from inside illuminated a couple kissing on the threshold. She immediately recognised the woman as Andrea from her gym-branded tracksuit and long, blonde hair, but the guy had his back turned towards her, and she couldn’t make out his features in the gloom. Only when she remotely unlocked her car and the figure looked around in response to the noise and flashing lights did Neelam recognise Jason, his face now clearly visible in the light spilling from the open door. To make matters worse, he seemed to have recognised her too, quickly ushering Andrea inside the door.

Shocked, Neelam promptly opened the car door and drove off without delay.

**********

Neelam didn’t see Jason at the gym in the days that followed. She knew he would be avoiding her, knowing what she had seen. Emma had been right not to trust him, and he must have been concerned that word of his affair would make it back to his wife. In truth, Neelam was glad not to see him. Jason had put her in a very awkward position, and she couldn’t decide what to do with the information she had unwittingly garnered. Having Jason put pressure on her would only have made matters worse.

She should tell Emma, of course, but the revelation would almost certainly end her marriage, leading to all the pain and heartache that accompanied a divorce. Could she be responsible for that? And what if Emma’ shot the messenger’, blaming Neelam for the news and spoiling their friendship just as it restarted?

Another option was to keep quiet and pretend she had seen nothing. Emma already suspected Jason of being unfaithful, so it would surely be only a matter of time before he made a mistake and she found out for sure. Then, of course, the result would be the same - divorce - but at least Neelam wouldn’t be dragged further into the whole mess and could be there for Emma when it happened.

The only other thing Neelam could think of was speaking to Jason and demanding that he end the affair. But what if Emma later learned about her involvement and knew she had kept her husband’s affair a secret? Neelam would be guilty of deceit, and Emma would unlikely forgive her.

She couldn’t decide how to resolve the dilemma best. Every outcome involved pain and hurt, and she resented that Jason had dragged her into his and Emma’s marriage difficulties. She did her best to avoid them both for a while so no awkward situations arose before the best course of action presented itself.

Neelam knew this was a short-term solution and not necessarily easy. Emma and Jason would almost certainly be at a work colleague’s retirement party at the end of the week, but at least that would be a massive event in a large London nightclub. So she would show her face, stay for an hour, then leave, hopefully without bumping into either of them.

**********

When the evening arrived, Neelam wasn’t looking forward to the party. She told herself that if she did meet Emma or Jason, she had to act naturally and pretend she knew nothing. Jason couldn’t be sure that Neelam had recognised him as the man kissing Andrea, and besides, he would hardly bring up his philandering in front of his wife. Nonetheless, she arrived at the venue anxious about the night ahead.

The nightclub was packed when Neelam walked in, which slightly put her at ease. She decided to find someone she knew - hopefully, someone sitting at a table in a dark corner - and sit with them until she could sneak away unnoticed. Seeing some of her team sitting in a small booth, she headed straight over and sat down, hoping to remain there discreetly until she left. Unfortunately, the plan quickly went awry.

“Come on, Boss - get the drinks in!” It was Gary from Pacific Section. He was a bit drunk and obnoxiously insistent. “Come on! You’re nearest to the bar - get them in! Get them in! Get them in!”

His loud, drunken chanting drew attention to Neelam, and when some of the others joined in with Gary’s chants, she decided it might be safer to take the risk and go to the bar. Hoping for the best, she crossed the room using her small stature to hide behind groups of party-goers as best she could.

Just as the barman poured the last drink in her order, Jason sidled up beside her. “You and I need to talk,” he said without looking at Neelam. There was a hint of menace in his voice which made her nervous. It was obvious what he wanted to discuss.

“Look, Jason, I don’t want to get involved. What you get up to is your own business but for God’s sake, don’t hurt Emma. She’s an old friend as you know.” Neelam tried to be firm and make her disapproval clear.

“It’s not as simple as that. See me outside in five minutes, and I’ll explain,” Jason replied, disappearing without ordering a drink.

Having returned to her table with the drinks, Neelam sat and considered her options again. Since the incident, she thought the best idea would be to tell Emma everything, even if it made her resentful and angry. They had only recently become reacquainted, so if Emma chose to blame Neelam for telling her about Jason, it would be regrettable but not the end of the world. But if she was going to take that step, she had decided it might be best to speak to Jason first, either to allow him to tell his wife himself or to find out if there were any mitigating factors to excuse his behaviour. Now that the opportunity to talk to him had arisen, she decided to stop putting it off and speak to Jason directly before finally deciding what to do.

Jason was standing in the street when Neelam emerged from the club, and they walked a short distance along the road to a quieter spot before their conversation began.

“Okay, so it’s pretty obvious that you saw me with Andrea the other night,” Jason began grumpily. “And I expect you’re going to tell Emma, right?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Neelam replied. “But can you give me a reason why I shouldn’t? It’s pretty cliched, fucking the gym instructor, isn’t it? It would be wrong of me to keep it from Emma.”

“I’m not going to pretend I haven’t made some mistakes, and Andrea’s not the first by a long chalk. But I’ve finished with her now and want to give my marriage another go. But if you tell Emma, that will be it between us. Our marriage will be over.”

“For fucks sake, Jason!” Neelam was getting annoyed. Jason had muddied the water by saying he was re-committing to Emma. What if he was telling the truth and did want to be a faithful husband?

“Don’t blame me because you can’t keep your cock in your pants,” Neelam continued. “You have a beautiful wife who wants to settle down and start a family. So stop showing the world how fucking manly you are and give your wife what she needs instead.”

“And what about me? Is she going to give me what I need?” Jason was angry at being reprimanded by the tiny woman before him.

“Oh, your needs!” Neelam began sarcastically. “What are your fucking needs? A fresh young pussy to stick your cock into every week?”

Jason turned around slightly and put his hand to his chin as if thinking about what to say next. Then, after a short pause, he turned back to face Neelam.

“I have certain urges…” he began calmly. “I try to keep them under control, but when the opportunity to satisfy them arises, it can be difficult to resist. These urges would best be satisfied within my marriage, I understand that, but Emma… Emma thinks they’re disgusting and refuses to give me the release I need. After a while, the need becomes too great and I have to seek satisfaction elsewhere.”

“Urges!” Neelam was at a loss. “What urges can be so great that you must keep going behind your wife’s back and fucking other women?”

“Control.” Jason was nothing if not concise. “I need to be in control. I need to be dominant in the bedroom. I need to tie my woman up and roughly fuck whatever hole I fucking like. Does that answer your question? I’m sure that is difficult for women like you to get your pretty little heads around, but there it is. Unfortunately, my wife doesn’t understand either, so I have to visit whores or find some other slut prepared to be used in that way instead. Understand now?”

“‘Women like you?’ Well, thank you for that insult, you ignorant bastard! Because I’m an Indian woman, I can’t understand sexual kinks, is that right?” Neelam was beginning to come out on top, particularly with her suggestion of implicit racism. “So why are you going to give it another try with Emma then? You’ve as good as admitted that you can’t help yourself so why will it be any different next time? And in the meantime God knows what diseases you’re infecting her with.”

“I’m going to get therapy,” Jason replied meekly. “I have an appointment next week. Seriously Neelam, give me one last chance to do the right thing by Emma. I know I’ve fucked up but let me try to put it right.”

Neelam knew this wasn’t a decision she could make on the spot. All she could say was, “I don’t know, Jason. I just don’t know,” and she walked back to the club, not prepared to listen to any more of his bullshit.

**********

Only when she was lying in bed that night did Neelam have a chance to process the heated conversation earlier in the evening. Bhavik was snoring beside her, but Neelam was wound-up and couldn’t sleep. Of course, she knew the right thing to do was to tell Emma, not least because she might have unknowingly been exposed to sexually transmitted infections. Still, Neelam’s actions could have enormous repercussions, and if telling Emma was what she decided to do, she would need to handle it extremely sensitively.

And while Jason’s behaviour was shocking and utterly unfair to Emma, the more Neelam thought about it, the more nuanced the situation became. He had a sex addiction, but he had said he was doing the right thing and seeking treatment. And his addiction was probably the result of his infertility, which was no fault of his own. Moreover, he had said he wanted to mend his ways and make his marriage work, so did Jason maybe deserve some sympathy and support, too, for Emma’s sake, if nothing else?

She was also slightly disturbed by the similarities between Jason’s situation and hers. Neelam and Jason had a domination and submission fetish; the only difference was that he acted on his need for control while she just accepted that she couldn’t have the submissive fucking she craved. Should she be more assertive in chasing what she wanted from her sex life? Should she be a bit more like Jason? Why should Bhavik always get the vanilla sex he wanted while making little effort to satisfy her more complex needs? She began to feel resentful towards the man sleeping beside her, and that led to other, more tawdry thoughts emerging from the darker reaches of her mind.

What if she made herself available to Jason if he felt one of his urges coming on? What if, rather than going with sex workers, he could come to her when he needed a release? She would insist on him completing his therapy with the long-term goal of normalising his relationship with Emma. Still, if during that time he had a relapse, he would know he could come to her for a safe fuck to satisfy his needs until the counselling began to take effect.

Neelam justified the idea to her conscience by considering it ‘marriage support’ for Emma and Jason. She would also protect her friend from exposure to sexually transmitted infections. But what about her marriage? What about Bhavik? What about her health?

Bhavik had been selfish for too long, she told herself. So why shouldn’t she consider her needs and desires if he wouldn’t? After all, if Jason’s therapy was successful, he might never even need to take up her offer. And if he took a test beforehand, there shouldn’t be any risk of infections. Or pregnancy, given Jason’s condition.

Neelam knew these were all excuses. She had to be honest with herself; she wanted rough, hard sex and to be a submissive toy that Jason could use as he pleased. Although she tried to push the idea from her mind, once planted, it just wouldn’t go away.

**********

It was another week before Neelam saw Jason in the gym. It must have been difficult for him to come back knowing his jilted lover and the witness to his infidelity would be there, she reasoned.

Neelam had been turning the matter over in her mind for days now. Her dirty plan was now fully formed, and she had reconciled any feelings of guilt about her behaviour. She would wait for the right moment, then put it to Jason and hope that he was receptive to the idea.

Her main worry was that Jason might not want to take her up on any offer she made. To date, he had, at best, shown indifference towards her, at worst outright hostility. Could she be sure that any offer she made would be accepted? And if he rejected Neelam, could he use her offer to get back at her? If she was going to go through with this, there must be no evidence that any conversations with Jason had ever taken place. At least then, if he threatened to expose her to Emma as a disloyal friend, she could say it was his word against hers and prove he had the motive to discredit her.

But if his ‘urges’ were as strong as he said they were - strong enough to risk his health, not to mention his marriage - why would he not accept the proposition of an attractive and willing supplicant?

Neelam didn’t have long to wait before she put her plan to the test. When Jason joined her at the water cooler, both exchanged a wary hello. Surprisingly, Jason followed his cautious greeting with an invitation to join him for coffee afterwards, saying he had some updates. Intrigued and keen to find an opportunity to put her proposal to him, Neelam agreed.

Seeing Jason stretching on the mats minutes later, Neelam realised he must be about to shower and change, so she shortened her cool-down run, switched off the treadmill and went to shower and change too. She knew that by the time she had dried her hair and reapplied her make-up, he would be waiting for her, and sure enough, when she left the changing room, Jason was waiting in the cafe with two hot coffees in front of him.

“I’m sorry - I don’t know how you take it. I just got you a flat white,” he said as Neelam sat down.

“That’s fine, thanks. So what are the updates?” Neelam was trying to play it cool.

“Well, first, thanks for not telling Emma,” he began, keeping his voice low.

“Yet,” Neelam interjected.

“Thanks for not telling Emma yet,” Jason corrected himself petulantly. “Look, I know you have every right to tell her, but I just wanted you to know that I was honest with you at the party. I am seeking treatment and want to show you my appointment card to prove it.” Jason removed a card from his inside pocket and passed it to Neelam. It looked genuine, so she handed it back.

“It says you had an appointment this week, and have another next week. So how did the first one go?” Neelam was keen to discover what sex addiction therapy was like, never having undergone such treatment herself.

“Well, the counsellor seemed good, but she said it might be a long process, and I shouldn’t expect immediate results. However, I just wanted you to know I’m taking it seriously in case it influences your decision regarding Emma.”

“I’m glad you’re taking it seriously, Jason; the last thing I want is to see Emma get hurt. But what will you do in the meantime, if it takes a while before it has any impact? What if you get one of your urges?”

“Well, Andrea was shaping up quite well, but since your little discovery, that’s gone tits-up,” he began.

Neelam shot him a ‘don’t you dare blame me’ look, so he chose his words more carefully afterwards.

“I don’t suppose I have any choice but to use whores again, but I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll use protection from now on.”

“You really have no other options?”

“Can you suggest one?” Jason asked rhetorically, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yes, actually, I can.” Neelam paused as she tried to find the right words. “Me. Use me for your release if you like. I’m serious, Jason. Until you can conquer your addiction, I’ll make myself available. Just don’t put Emma or yourself in any more danger. If you feel an urge coming on, let me know. And besides, contrary to your assumptions about me, it might surprise you to learn that I enjoy a rough fuck.”

At first, Jason appeared shocked, but then he looked down at his coffee and laughed disdainfully.

“Ha! You? Interesting offer, but I don’t think you quite understand what you’re suggesting.”

“I know exactly what I’m suggesting,” Neelam shot back, angry at being underestimated again. “You think that only whores can take a bit of rough sex, do you? You know fuck all about me, Jason. Fuck all! Only recently, you said I’d never had a dirty thought in my life. Here’s proof you were wrong then, just as you’re wrong now. Tie me up, fuck me, piss on me; do what you like. It’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

“You’re right,” Jason said, holding up his hands. “I know nothing about you. But let me tell you what I do know.” He leaned in and angrily hissed the words at Neelam.

“I know that three of London’s dirtiest whores have used the safe word within ten minutes of our session starting. I know two of them refused to see me again because they couldn’t take it. I know that little girls like you who have been constantly indulged and over-promoted seem to think they’re special - invincible even - but you’re not. You’re just a little girl looking for a cheap thrill, and you’re way out of your fucking depth.”

The slap was as painful as it was surprising to Jason.

As Neelam rose from her seat and made to leave, a look of panic crossed Jason’s face as he realised that his angry outburst meant Neelam would undoubtedly now tell Emma about his affairs. He stood up quickly.

“Neelam, please! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Please, sit down.”

Neelam thought about it for a moment. One or two gym-goers were looking over anxiously, concerned that Jason was harassing her. So, not wishing to cause even more of a scene and keen to get her plan back on track, she took her gym bag off her shoulder and sat down silently.

“I’m trying to protect you,” Jason began calmly. “The counsellor told me I likely have pent-up anger and resentment due to my infertility. That’s what’s behind my behaviour, and you’ve just seen an example of how my frustration comes out in other ways too. She says I have a subconscious resentment towards women, and, I’m ashamed to say, Emma often bears the brunt of it.

“If I was to accept your offer, I couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be moments when I lost control, and I can be dangerous when I do. It’s an occupational hazard for a whore, but you’re different. Look at you! You’re a beautiful, married woman. So why would you sink to my level?”

Neelam was concerned about Jason’s revelations. If he was so rough during sex that even sex workers refused to see him, maybe he was right. Perhaps she was out of her depth. When Bhavik had played rough with her in the early days of their marriage, they had never needed safe words; she had just trusted that Bhavik would never take things too far. But Jason was a completely different proposition. He was out of control, and he knew it.

Yet paradoxically, Jason’s warning made Neelam even more determined. Jason wouldn’t give her the mild BDSM she had experienced with Bhavik. The time for play had passed; this time, it would be for real. The idea of Jason cruelly taking what he wanted with little concern for her pleasure or well-being was already getting her wet, and what was the worst that could happen? If it proved too much, she could use an agreed safe word. From what he had said, at least Jason respected those. Furthermore, to go back on her offer now would prove him right about her being out of her depth, and her pride wouldn’t allow that.

Neelam stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder again. “The offer stands,” she said decisively. “On one condition: a recent, clean STI test before each fuck. I can’t trust that you won’t still go to whores and I’m not going to catch any shit off you. No test, no fuck. Think it over.”

Neelam turned and walked out of the gym.

**********

Jason didn’t give Neelam a prompt answer to her proposal. At the gym, everything was as usual; he would say hello, but there were no further invitations for coffee or anything else. After two weeks of virtual silence, Neelam thought he must have decided not to take her up on her offer.

Jason’s reluctance to open up left her in an awkward situation concerning Emma. If Jason wasn’t asking Neelam for sex, was he still using sex workers instead? Maybe he thought that was less complicated than fucking Neelam. If this was the case, she needed to tell Emma.

But it was also possible that Jason’s therapy was working more quickly than anticipated, and he hadn’t had any urges since they last talked. Neelam didn’t know how often they came over him; perhaps he only had them every few months, and the therapy might have taken effect by the time the next one was imminent. For all she knew, Jason and Emma might be well on the way towards fixing their marriage.

Neelam couldn’t decide what action to take until Jason told her what was happening. Perhaps he knew that; his silence might be an attempt to delay any revelation to Emma by creating confusion. So she decided to give it another week, and then she would raise the issue directly with Jason.

It was the following Thursday that Jason’s silence suddenly ended. Once more, he approached Neelam at the water cooler and invited her for a coffee after their workout. When she joined him in the cafe, two coffees, the appointment card, and his phone were already on the table. Saying nothing, he pushed the appointment card towards her. Neelam picked it up and looked at it. It was already filling up with regular weekly consultations.

“Good. How’s it going?” Neelam asked as she passed the card back to him.

“Okay. My counsellor says I’ve made some progress but there’s still a long way to go,” he replied, giving away only the smallest crumbs of information. “And this came this morning,” he said, pecking at his phone. Jason turned the phone around to show Neelam a clean STI test result he had received by email. She took the phone to check it came from a genuine NHS address before handing it back to him.

“So when was the test done?” she asked.

“Last week, and I’ve not been with anyone other than Emma for four weeks before you ask. So it would have shown up if I’d caught anything from her,” he said, nodding toward Andrea, who was leading a personal training session in the gym below.

“Okay, so what are you saying, Jason?”

“I’m saying that I’m doing as you asked,” he replied. “I’m clean, so you needn’t worry about Emma catching anything. And I’m keeping up with my therapy.”

Neelam sensed there was a ‘but’ coming.

“But I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. Knowing what you said to me before, it’s as much as I can do not to fuck you right now. I don’t know how long I’ve got - days, maybe a week - before I’m going to have to do something about it. Does your offer still hold?”

Neelam’s heart was racing. “It does, but I can’t do anything about it until Saturday when Bhavik goes to his parents’ house. I’m busy tomorrow night. Can you hold on until Saturday afternoon?”

“Yes, but Emma will be home. It will need to be quick - no longer than a gym session. I’ll tell her that’s where I’m going. That way she will not suspect anything. And Neelam, will you wear Indian clothes? I’d like that.”

“Okay. Book a room at the Ibis in Greenwich, and I’ll be in the bar at one o’clock.” Not wishing to extend the conversation further, Neelam stood up and walked away, leaving her steaming coffee untouched.

**********

Neelam turned over and tried to get a few minutes extra sleep when Bhavik’s alarm went off at half past six on Saturday morning, and he went to shower. But, as she lay in the darkness, she couldn’t get the thought of Jason out of her mind. In only a few hours, he would be roughly fucking her, and she was already getting wet at the idea.

She wondered what he had done to the sex workers, which meant they wouldn’t accept his bookings. These girls must have seen and done most things, so whatever it was, it must have been pretty extreme. She began to get cold feet, worried that she might last even less time than they did before telling him to stop. And what if he was angry at not having his urges sated and didn’t stop, continuing to fuck her against her will? He had admitted himself he had gotten out of control and dangerous. What if it all got out of hand?

Neelam tried to banish the negative thoughts and focus on the positives. She had experienced most of the things he was likely to want to do, so even if he was much rougher than Bhavik had been, she was sure she would still enjoy it. Indeed, it was the roughness, the loss of control, and the danger that Neelam craved the most, and after his extreme warning, her biggest concern was that Jason wasn’t rough enough.

As soon as Bhavik was out of the way, Neelam would begin her preparations. After breakfast, she would douche carefully and thoroughly, then go to the gym much earlier than usual to do a light toning session. Then, Neelam would go to the spa to have her hair, nails and eyebrows done, as she did every Saturday. She had also booked a full-body wax as a special treat. She would then come home, apply her make-up, dress in the revealing and sexy lehenga she had chosen, and get in a taxi to the hotel. When he saw her dressed as a classy Indian woman, he wouldn’t be able to hold his urges back a moment longer, she told herself.

Neelam felt rather sorry for Bhavik as she kissed him goodbye. He could have had no idea that later that day, his wife would give herself utterly to another man to be fucked and used in any way he chose. If Bhavik could even have begun to imagine the depraved acts she was prepared to submit herself to, he would have stayed to save her from her self-inflicted degradation. But he knew nothing, and as his car disappeared into the half-light, nothing separated Neelam from the pleasure and pain she knew she was about to experience.

**********

The taxi was due to arrive at quarter past twelve, and Neelam was almost ready. She had more than enough time to get to Greenwich, but she didn’t want to be late, and besides, she might need a strong gin and tonic in the hotel bar before Jason took her to his room to be fucked.

She looked at herself in the full-length bedroom mirror to check her look before adding the finishing touches, and she was pleased with what she saw. Her long, glossy, black hair framed her delicate facial features beautifully as it cascaded over her shoulders to the small of her back. She had applied plenty of foundation, giving her skin a smooth, flawless look, complementing her elegant, high cheekbones. More eye makeup than Neelam usually wore accentuated the shape and size of her large, dark eyes and gave just the hint of the porn-star sluttiness she was aiming for. The final touches to her make-up were dark false eyelashes, a bindi, and deep crimson lipstick on her full, luscious lips.

Her lehenga was exquisite; it was dark blue and embellished with neat thread embroidery and beadwork with a sequin panel and flower designs on the pallu. The silk designer blouse exposed her toned midriff and the gentle curve of her hips, and padding added volume to her small bosom. But, most importantly, the dress was modern and pre-stitched. Easy to wear and even easier to remove.

The detail was essential, and Neelam had left nothing to chance. A chunky Indian gold necklace and earring set, Penhaligon’s perfume, and sexy Louboutin heels all added class and refinement. Her outfit was complete when she added gold bangles and an ankle bracelet. She couldn’t remember looking this sexy since her wedding day all those years ago.

Neelam’s taxi arrived, and she put on her overcoat. It slightly spoiled her look, but the inclement March weather made it a necessity, and besides, she would remove it before she met Jason in the hotel bar. Neelam locked the front door and stepped into the taxi.

Now there was no going back.

**********