Kim awoke with a start, her heart pounding, shaken by a dream where she was chased by an irate, inexplicably naked woman, waving Kim’s abandoned blue bikini. Guilt at her unwitting betrayal of Henry’s not-so-dead wife haunted her. She shook her head angrily. He lied to me, she told herself firmly. Still, the illicit thrill of that betrayal heightened her enjoyment of the adventure. What kind of amoral monster am I? She drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly, determined not to waste the two days before Aiko arrived sulking by the pool with her parents.

While browsing in bed before she arose, she spotted an advert for an exhibition in Antibes, “Picasso and his Women.” She read the blurb; it was a collection of his paintings and drawings of women from all over the world, including many that had disappeared into private collections. Though she wasn’t keen on abstract art, if she could persuade her father to let her go, at least she’d be away from her parents and have some freedom.

Over breakfast, she made her attempt. “There's a Picasso and Women exhibition on in Antibes, Daddy.” Kim smiled winningly. “I absolutely have to go. They'll never have all these paintings in one place again. Ever.”

Her father shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, looking adamant.

“I love his work, and it will be so helpful for University,” she lied, trying not to scowl. In truth, she detested Picasso, a dreadful misogynist. That quote summed it up: only goddesses and doormats. Utter garbage. Her conscience pricked at her. His problematic relationships with women were complex. And his draughtsmanship was undeniable, she admitted to herself.

“Oh, let the girl go, Kazuo,” her grandfather chipped in. “It’s a museum. What harm could befall her there?”

Kim was surprised when her father turned towards Isamu and formally nodded. “I bow to your wisdom.”

He turned back to Kim. A brief flash of worry crossed his face, and then he shook his head slowly. “Go then. But be careful; you never know who’s around.” A slight smile creased his lips. “I’ll make sure you have enough cash for the day.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said. “I promise I’ll be good.”

He merely shook his head, smiling wryly.

She happily spent the day by the pool with her parents, wearing her detestable, modest one-piece bathing suit, glad that the following day she would have her freedom.

Later that evening, after an enjoyable meal in Villefranche, where her father had been unusually jovial, Kim returned to her room. She found a stack of euros on her bed, far more than she expected or needed, with a note in her father’s almost illegible scrawl.

Spend it wisely. Love you, K.

She briefly wondered at the note, which displayed far more affection than his usual stern expression. Tomorrow, she would have her freedom; a myriad of possibilities whirled through her mind. She laughed, realising her trip teemed with erotic opportunities. She could sell herself again for cash; at least then, she could buy Max dinner when he returned. But a doubt niggled at her. Will I have the nerve? She wouldn’t know unless she tried, she decided. Excitement kept her tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, until exhaustion finally overcame her.

On Friday morning, as the day of the exhibition dawned, Kim’s stomach churned. She procrastinated, repeatedly changing her mind about what to wear. Finally, she picked out the figure-hugging little black dress she’d worn for her previous foray into selling herself. She folded the expensive designer dress and slipped it into her shoulder bag. Her black stilettos and black, patent-leather handbag quickly followed. I can’t do it. Her hands reached into the bag, and she almost started unpacking it. She drew a deep breath, calming herself, resolving to go through with her plan. She grinned, imagining two well-hung strangers. I deserve to be double penetrated again.

She walked naked into her bathroom, thoroughly lubed her arse, and inserted a large butt plug, preparing for her anticipated reaming. After a moment, she shoved the bottle of lube into her bag as well, just in case. Knowing they’d be hidden by her clothes, she put on lacy black panties, black stockings, and matching suspenders. She deliberately omitted a bra, proud of her massive, perfect tits. More time passed as she did her makeup and hair, wanting to look expensive and high-class. To placate her father, she wore a loose white blouse and an ankle-length, pink satin skirt. It was mid-morning before she stopped faffing and forced herself into her car. She drove to Monte Carlo, knowing the posh hotels there were notorious for escorts.

When she arrived, Kim was lucky. She found a convenient spot in the underground car park and didn’t have to descend too far. She retrieved her black handbag, little black dress, and stilettos from her shoulder bag, quickly changed her clothes, folded the white blouse and pink skirt, and left them on the passenger seat with her shoulder bag. She checked her hair in the mirror; satisfied, she got out of her car.

Now that she was close, her nervousness returned tenfold, and her shoulders slumped. Kim forced herself to stand straight and walk proudly up the stairs to the street above, acutely aware of the plug in her arse. When she emerged from the car park’s pedestrian exit, she blinked in the sudden sunlight, almost losing her nerve again. She strolled, nervously, down the slope towards the elegant facade of the Hotel de Paris. She made it to the marble steps up into the lobby, but the sight of the uniformed doormen was too much. She didn’t have the courage to brazenly walk past them and into the hotel.

Defeated, she walked past the hotel, continued down the hill, and paused to take in the view of the harbour before browsing the designer shops lining the Avenue de Monte-Carlo. Mannequins flaunted elegant dresses in the windows of Valentino and Gucci. Kim sighed, both exasperated and furious with herself, knowing that normally, her allowance meant she could afford the outrageous prices. One more try. Kim turned, straightened her shoulders, and sauntered back up the hill towards the hotel lobby. Her stomach knotted, and she almost threw up as she climbed the marble steps.

“Est-ce que ça va, mademoiselle?” one of the uniformed doormen asked gently.

Are you alright, miss? That was the final straw. Kim nodded. “Merci, oui, ça ira,” she managed to say before fleeing back to her car. Of course, she’d be fine. There was nothing wrong with her.

Her shoulders slumped as she retreated to her car in defeat. She changed into her modest skirt, blouse, and flat-heeled sandals. She didn’t remove the plug that stretched her backside, as a reminder of her abject failure. A note fed into the machine let her leave the underground car park. She smiled wryly to herself. At least now, she could actually see the exhibition, a visit that hadn’t been in her original plan. She followed the signs for the A8, avoiding the coast road, which would be clogged with tourists. The road climbed over the coastal range until it joined the autoroute, and she took a ticket for the péage.

As she drove, she replayed her failed attempt, paying scant attention to the road. Why couldn't I do it? She shook her head in frustration. It wasn't like she was still a virgin. Yes, her experience was limited; before her two adventures on this holiday, she'd only really had sex with one man. Two, if you counted Ken, which she didn't. She'd let him take her virginity for one purpose: to give her the confidence to seduce her best friend's father. She smiled to herself, thankful for how well that had worked out. Knowing Helen’s father liked her and fucked her regularly boosted her self-confidence enormously. She laughed. And obviously, two other strangers had fucked her that one time she'd sold herself and Helen.

And there lay the difference. That had been an adventure, arranging for two men to fuck her BFF's bum because Helen was too afraid to arrange it herself. She leered. And it had been so much fun; both of them received a right proper reaming, and she'd been double penetrated for, so far, the first and only time, though it was something she'd love to try again.

In contrast, this was sheer desperation. She needed cash to buy Max dinner when he returned, and selling herself for that would be degrading. She grinned. Her cousin Aiko was arriving the next day, and she knew they would have fun together. As for Max, who promised to return next Wednesday, perhaps Aiko would have an answer. She left the autoroute at Les Ginestières, paid the toll, and endured the slow crawl along the seafront until she finally arrived at Antibes marina car park.

She parked as close to the Musée Picasso as possible. She slung her bag over her shoulder and sauntered to the museum, surprised that she was looking forward to seeing the exhibition. She checked the time. Three hours until closing—plenty of time. She paid the attendant at the kiosk and followed the signs into the exhibition hall.

The exhibition was arranged chronologically. Kim spent ages staring intently at Picasso's early, realistic portraits of women and admired the draughtsmanship, which set him apart from so many abstract artists. Picasso could truly draw. Too many others hid their poor drawing skills and sheer lack of talent behind abstraction. She skimmed past his melancholy Blue Period and his first experiments with space and form. The tenderness of Mother and Child from his Rose Period caught her attention. Her interest faltered as the paintings became increasingly experimental—from the birth of cubism through to his later surreal works. Kim never understood the artistic intent of such works; she far preferred less abstract styles. But she persevered, trying to understand what people found so exciting about his work. None of the female nudes evoked any sense of the erotic. Most were grotesquely distorted with huge tits, amplifying her dislike of his misogyny. She smiled, wondering how he’d represent her own enormous breasts.

Finally, she reached the iconic “Girl before a mirror.” She was surprised at the scale, having always pictured it as much smaller. She took two paces backwards and was immediately struck by a memory. Just this week, she'd stared at her own naked form in her floor-length mirror, trying to decide if she was good-looking or just an over-endowed cow.

The picture resonated strongly, evoking deep questions. Am I a virgin or a whore? Good-looking or a buxom cow? The soft background hum of tourist chatter filling the gallery amplified her inner tumult. Doubt and uncertainty filled her mind, sparked by the painting's asymmetry. One side was bright and colourful, brimming with youthful energy. The other—the reflection in the mirror—was dark, repressed, and distorted. The sharp contrast mirrored her internal discord, triggering so many questions about her own sexual behaviour and identity.

Kim stared, rapt, at the picture for an eternity, caught by the resonance of the symbolism and the parallels with her own contemplation of her body, whether or not intended by Picasso. She was aware once more of the butt plug gently stretching her arse. She jumped when a deep, male voice spoke behind her.

“So, which are you? Goddess or doormat?”

The famous quote flashed through her mind. There are only two kinds of women: goddesses and doormats. Kim turned. “Neither,” she snapped angrily. “I have agency.”

The man laughed. “Ah, so you know the quote?”

Her anger faded, and she realised the man addressing her was astonishingly good-looking and elegantly dressed. She looked him up and down. The man was slim, dark-haired, with dark eyes, and in his thirties.

He laughed again. “If you've finished checking me out, I'm Giovanni. Gio to most people.”

She suddenly realised the man's hand had been stretched out towards her for ages. She shook her head. “Sorry, you startled me, that's all.” She shook his hand. “Kimiko Oneda. But everyone, even Daddy, calls me Kim.” She sighed. “Of course, I know the quote, it’s famous: there are only two kinds of women.” She shook her head. “Such a dreadful misogynist.” But am I a doormat? I keep letting men use and abuse me. She reluctantly admitted to herself that she loved being used. So, perhaps I am.

They argued passionately for several minutes about the birth of cubism, symbolism, Picasso’s genius, abstraction, and his misogyny. The argument made her uncomfortable; so many points related to her own, very personal, and sexual questions. Was she really such a submissive doormat, willing to be abused by anyone? The debate intensified, charged with a simmering sexual tension. Gio stepped closer, making her keenly aware of the man's physical presence. Kim’s eyes met his for a long, lingering moment. A smirk played on Gio’s lips until she looked away, blushing. Fucking him would be some consolation for her earlier cowardice, she decided. It would also show she had agency and was not merely a submissive sex object, only capable of being abused by men, however exciting and enjoyable she found it.

She smiled, realising that the painting, with its duality and all the questions that duality allowed, gave her a perfect opening. Kim giggled and nodded at the painting. “I did that this week, you know?” She paused. “Looked, naked, into a mirror, asking questions.”

Gio grinned. “Really? Discover much about yourself?”

She laughed. “Oh yes. I worried I was undesirable, so I stripped and examined myself, naked, in the mirror.” She paused dramatically. “The mirror told me I’m hot. Very desirable.” She thrust out her boobs, cupping them with both hands. “What do you think?”

The good-looking man looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her crotch, then her chest, and finally her face. “Lovely.”

She smiled. “Now I’m here, facing this mirror, there are so many other questions. As you asked, am I a goddess to be worshipped or a doormat to be used?” She leered at his crotch, imagining his dick inside her. “I love being used,” she whispered, staring into his dark eyes. But a thread of doubt remained. Was this her conscious choice or merely a desire to be submissive? The ambiguity momentarily unsettled her. No, she decided, this is my choice.

Gio opened his mouth to speak, but Kim shushed him. “Am I a virgin or a whore?” Suddenly, she was aware of the butt plug, reminding her of the morning's failure. “Well, I’m certainly no virgin. But I’m not a whore; I know that now.” Guilt flashed through her mind. She had sold herself. Just once and only to help her friend, but technically, that made her a whore.

She shook her head, dismissing her doubts. I really do want him. “Do you like my answers?”

Gio snorted and nodded. “Obviously. Anything more?”

Kim laughed. “Oh yes. The questions go on and on. Young or Old?” She leered at Gio. Definitely the best-looking man she’d ever seen. And with an obvious hard-on. “Older, mostly.” She grinned, remembering Max’s inexperienced energy. “But I’m not averse to youth.”

Gio stood there, staring at her, grinning, with his hands on his hips. “Go on, keep going; this is fascinating.”

Kim paused thoughtfully. Henry and Ken had simply used her. Even Max, with his obsession with her boobs, thought of her as a sex object. She smiled. Helen’s father was the only one of her lovers who thought of her as a real person, with agency and feelings. She pointed at the painting. “My biggest question is the same as his: am I a sex object to be used and discarded or a person to love?” She grinned. “Pablo would definitely objectify me.” She pressed her hands to her chest again. “He had a thing for boobs.” She looked into Gio’s dark eyes. “What about you?”

“Do you want to be objectified?”

She realised her panties felt damp. “Right now? Yes, I’d love it.” She smiled. “On occasion, it's nice to just be used for sex. No strings, just sensation.” She looked around and spotted a discreet door labelled “Privé. Personnel uniquement.”

She pointed and grabbed Gio’s hand. “Come on. Hopefully, there’ll be no one around.” She leered at his crotch. “Then you can properly objectify me.”

Gio nodded and grinned. She led him quietly through the door. Beyond was a short corridor with two doors on each side. All but one were locked, but the final door clicked open, revealing a dark storage cupboard. She found the light switch. The room was lined with shelves. On the left was one deep shelf, totally empty. On the right, the shelves were filled with cleaning products. Mops and buckets were against the far wall.

A hand propelled her into the room, and then Gio’s hands turned her to face him. His head bent forward, and he kissed her. Their tongues entwined playfully until she needed to come up for air.

Gio glanced behind him at the open door. “What if someone comes?”

Kim giggled, excited by the prospect. “I don’t care. Let them watch.”

He laughed. “If you’re sure.” When Kim nodded, he slowly unbuttoned the front of her blouse, pushing it off her shoulders, revealing her enormous, perfect breasts. The man bent towards her and sucked each of her hard nipples in turn. “You’ve got fantastic tits,” he sighed.

Kim let the silky blouse fall to the floor as Gio fumbled with the fastenings of her long, flowing skirt. Soon, it too pooled on the floor around her feet.

He tried to pull down her black lace panties, but the stays of her stockings prevented it. He fumbled briefly before successfully popping the press-studs holding them up. The panties slithered down her legs, and she stepped out of them. The cool air and its faint whiff of bleach amplified Kim’s fear of discovery and the illicit thrill that fear brought.

Gio gasped at the sight of her hairy pussy. His left hand reached out and ran down her neatly trimmed black pubes. A finger lingered, pressed gently into her shaved slit before the hand moved further between her legs, and a finger pushed against the purple jewel of her butt plug. Gio grinned. “Ready for anything, I see. I really didn’t expect that.” He leered. “Another question. Pussy first or arse?”

Kim giggled. “Pussy.”

Gio started to push her back against one of the storage shelves, but Kim put a hand on his chest. “Let me fold my clothes first.”

When she bent over to pick them up, hands gently fondled her buttocks, and a finger probed her tight, wet minge. She straightened up and quickly folded the blouse and skirt, then carefully put them on an empty shelf. Kim lifted herself so her bum was perched on the edge of the long, empty shelf and leaned back against the wall. Her hands hooked behind her knees, lifting them off the floor. She spread her knees wide apart and then laughed lewdly. “Now, you can fuck me.”

Kim waited impatiently as the man shucked off his jacket, removed his trousers and underpants, and then briefly wanked his big, circumcised cock. Now wearing just socks and his shirt, Gio leered at her. “I’ve wanted to do this from the moment I saw you.”

His hand grasped his shaft and rubbed his glans up and down her dripping slit, pressing it slightly between her outer lips. Suddenly, the rigid weapon pushed deep into her cunt, sliding wonderfully past the big plug in her backside. Kim gasped. “Yes, fill me up.”

She sighed when his unbending boner began slowly shafting her tight pussy. “That feels wonderful,” she moaned softly.

His hands grasped her calves, lifting them and spreading her knees even wider. She felt his wiry pubes against her groin each time the pork sword thrust into her. Kim revelled in the slow, repeated stretching, knowing her pussy was dripping with arousal. After a minute of this lovely, gentle stimulation, Gio’s hands, still clasping her calves, moved her legs together so her feet were over his shoulders.

His hands grasped her upper thighs and pulled her towards him, so her back slid down over the edge of the shelf until it pressed hard into the middle of her back. She gripped the edge of the shelf, supporting her weight on her lower arms. A shadow flickered in the corridor outside. “Really?” Kim gasped. “I'm going to fall. Don’t let me fall.”

Gio just grinned and moved his hands behind her neck, forcing her head forward and her thighs closer together. The dick embedded in her pussy pistoned rapidly in and out, slamming brutally hard into her tight cunt. It felt fantastic. Kim sighed with pleasure, staring into Gio’s lustful eyes that were six inches in front of her. Her arousal quickly mounted, and Kim moaned. “Yes, like that. Fuck me hard.”

She closed her eyes, drowning in ecstasy as an intense climax swept through her. The engorged cock kept slamming into her pussy, each thrust accompanied by an audible slap as his groin met hers. She barely heard the butt plug clatter to the floor when it fell out of her backside.

Gio pounded away at her even after her shudders subsided. She opened her eyes, and Gio bent forward, kissing her deeply as his dick continued its assault. He pulled away from her, grinning. “Did you enjoy that?”

Kim exhaled one long breath, sighing with pleasure. “It was lovely.” She grinned. “Make me come again.”

“Love to.” His head bent forward again, and he kissed her as he slowly shafted her swollen pussy.

His strong hands released her neck and lifted her bum back onto the shelf. His dick pulled out of her gushing cunt, wet with her juices. He bent over and picked up the butt plug, brandishing it with his left hand. “You’ve lost something. Shall I replace it with something else?” he asked jokingly.

Kim shook her head. “No, not yet. Put it back and make me come first. Then you can ream my arse.”

He spat on the plug, and Kim gasped when he thrust it into her tight sphincter. She slid forward off the uncomfortable shelf and knelt before him. She smiled up at him and then sucked his dick clean, pushing her head forward until his dick slid past her tonsils and down her throat. She briefly considered sucking until he came, but right now, only her own pleasure mattered. “From behind,” she said when his dick left her mouth.

Gio nodded and grinned. “Whatever the slut goddess requires.”

She hated that word. But am I? Am I really just a wanton slut? She stood and turned towards the shelf. She bent over, and her hands gripped the edge. His warm hands caressed her buttocks, and then she felt pressure on the butt plug once more as he pushed it firmly home. His glans rubbed teasingly up and down her dripping slit before pressing between her outer lips. As his tip slid slightly inside her, his hands gripped her waist tightly. She squealed when his rigid member plunged deep into her wet pussy with all the force of a pile driver, filling her snatch completely and pressing delightfully against the wall separating it from the butt plug. “Don’t be gentle,” she ordered Gio.

The man laughed. “What a cock-hungry little whore you are.”

A mix of anger at the degrading word and shame at her earlier failure rushed through her. She shook her head. “I know I’m not a whore.” She giggled. “But I am cock-hungry.”

His rigid dick started moving in and out of her wet minge. Slowly at first, but quickly increasing in pace. Kim lost herself in the sensations as the unbending weapon slammed repeatedly into her, jolting her hard so her huge tits swayed.

Knowing they could be discovered at any moment added to her already intense arousal. Soon, she gasped and moaned as the long, steely pole hammered into her, each thrust increasing her pleasure. “Yes, like that,” she moaned. An eternity of intense sensation later, she felt her excitement mount as she neared her peak.

“God, I love being fucked,” she moaned as another wave of ecstasy flowed through her. Her pussy gushed, and she felt it ripple against the fat dick that slammed into her tight grotto, her feeling of fullness intensified by the large silver toy in her backside. Gio’s engorged member withdrew and slammed into her once more as her shuddering subsided. The dick paused, lodged hilt-deep in her twat, with wiry pubes tickling her bum.

Behind her, Gio sighed. “You really are tight, even now,” he said in wonder. His hands released her waist and slid gently up her body, massaging her mammoth boobs. “And these puppies are perfect.” He snorted. “I so want to come in your bum, so I really had to control myself and hold back.” He grinned. “Or you’d already be filled with spunk.”

She glowed at the compliments. She looked back over her right shoulder at him and mirrored his words. “I so want you to come in my bum.” She grinned. “And I think it’s about time you did.”

Gio laughed, and as his rigid dick pulled out of her pussy, he spoke, “If your arse is as tight as your cunt, we’re going to love this.”

Kim giggled. Her sphincter had been stretched all day by the plug, so she was dubious about how tight it would be. “God, I hope so.” Her shoulder bag was perched on the shelf next to her. Kim reached into it and pulled out the bottle of lube she had packed for her failed escorting adventure. She handed it to Gio. “You’ll need this.”

Fingers pressed between her cheeks, and she felt pressure as they pulled slowly on the purple jewel of the butt plug. Kim sighed as the plug paused with the widest part painfully stretching her sphincter. The plug pushed back into her, and she revelled in the intense stretching as Gio repeatedly dilated her rear entrance.

“God, you really are tight,” he said softly as he finally pulled the silver toy all the way out of her backside.

Kim giggled when lube dribbled down her crack. “That’s cold.”

Two fingers slowly worked in and out of her bum, lubricating her still-tight sphincter. Suddenly, the fingers started frigging her arse hard, hooking around inside, stretching her back passage. Kim gasped with pleasure. “Wonderful.”

Moments later, the intrusive fingers withdrew, and she felt the familiar pressure as his tip nudged at her back door, pressing slightly inside. His hands grasped her hips.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

When she nodded, the pressure increased dramatically. Kim squealed as his dick painfully stretched her anus, sliding slowly inside.

“Fuck, you are so tight,” Gio sighed. “This will be incredible.”

The dick continued its relentless assault, plunging deeper, inch by marvellous inch, as it repeatedly withdrew slightly before pressing home again. Her sphincter burned pleasantly, stretched to the limit. Kim felt wiry pubes against her silky cheeks once more. “So full,” she moaned.

Gio laughed. “You’re cutting off my circulation.”

The rampant cock slowly pulled back, resisted by her tight sphincter. Only the tip remained inside her arse when she heard the lube bottle splutter, and fingers moved near her bum, pressing against her cheeks as he lubed his cock.

The dick rammed into her again. This time, it slid in easily and gloriously until once more she felt wiry hair against her. Gio sighed with pleasure behind her. “Fuck me, that’s wonderful,” he moaned.

The unbending pork sword pistoned slowly in and out in long, slow strokes, almost leaving her bum before plunging hilt-deep once more. The repeated stretching and incredible fullness soon had Kim gasping with pleasure. “Harder,” she moaned, craving the intense sensations of a brutal reaming.

Gio grunted with effort as his fat pole rammed repeatedly into her arse, filling her to bursting point. She glanced over her left shoulder at him. She inhaled sharply at a flash of movement by the open door. She gripped the shelf tighter, aroused and thrilled at the prospect of discovery. “Yes, like that,” she urged Gio.

Gio’s groin slammed audibly against her bum, scratching her with his pubes. His balls slapped against her pussy, increasing her stimulation. Kim now moaned loudly with each violent thrust into her flushed derriere. Behind her, Gio grunted with effort each time his hips slammed forward.

“Soon,” Kim sighed, knowing her climax was approaching.

Gio laughed, sounding strained. “Me too.”

Four brutal thrusts later, a wave of pleasure swept through her, and her sphincter clamped hard around the invasive weapon. “Yes,” she shrieked in ecstasy. One long, drawn-out moan of a word.

“I’m coming,” Gio yelled simultaneously.

His hips slammed hard against her buttocks. A warm, familiar flood filled her bottom. Her muscles twitched uncontrollably as another vicious thrust drove his erupting hose deep into her rectum and more hot spunk rushed into her backside. Another gentler thrust, and her climax subsided. Kim sighed. “God, that felt marvellous.”

“You’re not kidding. I’ve never fucked anything that tight before.”

Kim grinned to herself, glad to have satisfied another stranger. The cock continued to slowly and pleasurably piston in and out of her backside as they caught their breath. Suddenly, she heard a loud cough behind her.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re closing,” said a male voice.

“Jesus!” Gio exclaimed as his dick slammed hilt-deep into her arse in surprise.

Kim looked back over her shoulder. A young man in a uniform stood in the doorway, phone in hand. She grinned as she realised she might fulfil her ambition to be double-penetrated once more. “Don’t go,” she said urgently, staring lustfully at the uniformed man, as Gio’s dick rapidly left her gaping backside.

The young man stared back, open-mouthed, for a moment. “Five minutes,” he said, blushing violently, before he turned and fled.

Kim was disappointed. She rummaged through the cleaning supplies on the shelves until she found some tissues. She wiped the fresh jizz from her crotch and inner thighs before dressing and making herself respectable. She kissed Gio, who was now fully clothed, briefly. “Thank you for using me so wonderfully.”

Five minutes later, they walked hand in hand out of the main entrance, past the still blushing young man. Kim smiled broadly at the youth, reading his name badge. “Thank you, Antoine, it was a marvellous visit. I’m sure I’ll come again.”

The youth dropped his head, shaking it slowly, as they walked past. Once they were in the car park, Gio spoke, “Can you give me your number? I want to see you again.”

Kim guffawed and shook her head. “Not a chance. Today was just my consolation for a disappointment.”

“But we both loved it. Surely you want to do that again?”

Kim shook her head, knowing Aiko and Max would soon arrive. “I don’t think I do.” She leered. “Yes, it was marvellous and exciting, but I have other plans.” She paused. “But, give me your number. You never know, I might get in touch.”

Gio handed her a business card, which she slipped, unread, into her bag. With that, she turned and walked away.

“I won’t give up. I’ll find you,” Gio shouted after her.

When she got back to her car and left the marina car park, she had little choice other than to crawl along the coast road back to the villa. She reflected on the day’s mixed events. She was embarrassed for even thinking she could sell her body so easily. But the failed attempt answered a question: she really wasn’t a whore, a question that had lingered deep inside ever since her adventure with Helen. A fleeting image of the naked woman from her dream, waving Kim’s lost blue bikini, flashed through her mind. Henry had used her for sex, lying and betraying his wife in the process. Now, Kim had similarly used Gio. Perhaps I will call him, after all. But had she betrayed anyone? No. Certainly not Henry or Max. Her stomach flip-flopped as she remembered Helen’s father's warm hand gently holding hers. Not even him.

She grinned. The afternoon had been truly exciting, with the danger of being discovered and the thrill of being fucked by a handsome, older stranger. Her brutal anal reaming was especially thrilling, knowing it would mortify her father if he knew. She reached back and felt her arse, grinning, knowing it would be sore tomorrow. Even so, it had been well worth it. She chuckled, imagining the butt plug lying abandoned at the museum, waiting to be discovered by the cleaners, an iconic reminder of her day. Not just the incredible sex and repeated orgasms, but her sense of self was reinforced. She had chosen to be brutalised marvellously and wasn’t just a submissive doormat to be used and discarded by men.

By the time she reached the enormous villa and parked her car in the garage, she was beaming.

Kim walked into the villa and towards the lounge. When she entered the room, her father greeted her with a smile. “I see you enjoyed yourself.” Kim smiled broadly at her father, surprised by his warm reaction. “I’m glad the exhibition met expectations,” her father continued.

Kim examined him carefully. He looked more relaxed than she’d seen him since she hit puberty. “It did. I think I finally ‘get’ Picasso’s art. I never did before.”

When she reached her room, she carefully hid the bottle of lube. She guffawed as she imagined returning to the museum and asking an astonished Antoine for the butt plug back. She showered and changed, returning downstairs just in time for dinner.

Outside, a driver waited with a limousine, but before she could get in, her grandfather pulled her aside.

“You need to be more careful, girl,” Isamu said quietly. “Tomorrow, we're having lunch in Beaulieu. Just you and me.” What did he know? she wondered, triggering a fresh wave of doubt about her question. Am I really a goddess directing my own fate, or am I simply a doormat submitting to the desires of others?