‘Don’t pretend you’re any better than her,’ Rob rebuked her. ‘You know I have to keep your whorish ways in check. That’s why we’re here.’
‘When she was caught and arrested,’ said Allyson, stridently, ‘she had one man’s cock in her pussy, another up her arse and she was licking a woman’s clit. She was in the cloakroom of a public nightclub and customers were coming and going the whole time. Though, of course, a lot of them stopped to watch. Most of them had already felt her up on the dancefloor. That was prisoner thirty nine’s idea of a good night out. Every week.’
Emma swallowed hard. Allyson was teasing her, turning her on.
She had been warned before the weekend began: ‘You’ll get no orgasms, my girl.’
Please don’t turn me on. I’m wet enough already with the throb of the cane and the sensitivity of my hot, stretched skin. I can’t take much more.
Now she was glad of the hunger, concentrating on it instead of listening to Allyson’s inflammatory words, which she tuned out as best she could, catching snatches here and there.
‘… wide open … sucking her nipples … she came three times in a row …’
The words became blank, empty of meaning, while she thought about food, every kind of food she had ever eaten.
Finally, they finished their meal and Allyson went into the kitchen for the ceremonial bowl of porridge.
She was made to kneel and eat it from the floor, spooning it into her mouth in great, greedy gulps. It was cold, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that everyone watched her, laughing or tutting over her table manners. She didn’t care about anything now, except being prisoner thirty nine and getting Allyson alone.
‘It’s time you were in bed, thirty nine,’ said Allyson, taking the empty bowl from under her nose. ‘Early nights for you. I’ll take her up. Rich, is there another bottle in the fridge?’
Emma’s upper arm was braceleted with Allyson’s fingers, hauling her to her feet and nudging her to the stairs.
‘Go and brush your teeth,’ ordered Allyson. ‘Then you can get your nightshirt on.’
The nightshirt didn’t cover her bottom. It was made of some rough kind of grey flannel that rubbed her nipples. Allyson commented on how hard they were, watching her change.
She laughed, a little callously, then her voice altered.
‘This is good for you, yeah, babe?’
Emma nodded, but she could feel her emotions welling at the abrupt kindness in her lover’s tone.
‘But, just a hug would be nice.’
‘Aww, come here, darling.’
The women embraced, long and deep, Emma shedding a few tears on Allyson’s smart, silk shirtsleeve.
‘So proud of you, babe, so proud,’ whispered Allyson. ‘You’re special, you know that?’
‘I love you,’ said Emma. ‘Oh God, look at your shirt.’
Allyson tutted and pretended to frown.
‘Naughty girl,’ she said, patting the wet patch. ‘I won’t spank you for it, though. Not right now.’
‘You can if you like.’
Allyson kissed her, cupping her wet cheek in one hand.
‘You’d better get some sleep,’ she said. ‘You’re going to need it. Tomorrow you’re back to being thirty nine.’
‘How do you know those other guys?’
‘Blake? He’s my cousin.’
‘He’s a paramedic?’