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Turning off the shower, Martin proceeded to pat them both dry with a towel, then led Alex back into the bedroom, gently settling him on the bed on his back, with a pillow under his bottom. Martin had a hairy chest and a big white gut, with skinny little legs underneath. He wasn’t an attractive man.

A tube of lubricant and a supply of condoms were already on the bedside table. Alex closed his eyes as Martin reached for them. On several occasions when he’d slept with Neil, he’d imagined it was Hudson Brink, or some other hot celebrity; maybe he could go to that place in his head right now.

“Open your eyes for Daddy, my little prince,” Martin said, stroking his cheek until he complied.

It seemed that escape was going to be denied to him. Martin was looming over him with a sickly smile on his face. After moistening Alex’s hole with lube and his finger, he put the condom on with a wink. “Best to be safe, although Daddy is clean, and I’m sure his little prince is, too.”

He settled between Alex’s legs and pushed insistently.

Alex felt tight and tense, and it took a little while for Martin to ease his way in.

When he did finally gain entry, it hurt, and Alex had to bite back the hiss of pain that came to his lips, concentrating on opening up so there was less discomfort.

Martin pushed all the way in. “Such a lovely boy. There… doesn’t that feel good?

” He began pumping with energetic thrusts.

“Now, come for Daddy, my little prince…” He wrapped his hand around Alex’s cock, and Alex almost jumped out of his skin.

So far, it had remained resolutely limp, and he’d thought Martin wasn’t interested as long as he got off himself, so he hadn’t taken the pills.

He tried desperately to think of sexually exciting situations, but he wasn’t sure there was any life left in his dick.

“You must come for Daddy,” Martin puffed as he thrust. “Daddy wants you to come, my darling. Daddy won’t be happy if you don’t come.”

Alex conjured up an image of a half-naked Hudson Brink emerging from the ocean with his massive cock fully erect.

He imagined lying back on the sand as Hudson kissed his chest, sucked down hard on his nipples, and then entered him swiftly with his huge dick.

It worked – his own cock responded by rising half-heartedly.

“Oh, good! That’s a good boy. Such a lovely little prince,” Martin said encouragingly, which almost halted Alex’s erection in its tracks.

The older man’s belly rolled majestically as he fucked, his balls slapping Alex’s buttocks as he got into his stride.

It was hard to hold on to the image of Hudson Brink nailing him in the sand when Martin was bobbing up and down and crooning at him, but somehow, with the help of the fantasy and Martin’s relentless stroking, Alex managed to eject a small dribble of come a little while later.

Martin let out such a cry of pleasure at the tiny victory that Alex almost burst out laughing.

The other man’s own climax took longer, and he continued to thrust away for what felt like hours before finally ejaculating with a squeal of delight.

“Such a lovely boy,” he sighed. “So special.” Withdrawing, he disposed of the condom and then reached for the towel he’d thrown onto the bed earlier to wipe Alex’s come away.

“There, there – who’s my nice, clean boy, hmm?

” he said, settling down beside Alex in the bed and drawing him into his arms. “Such a lovely, sweet, clean little prince…”

Alex closed his eyes as Martin murmured into his ear; he didn’t feel very clean.

So that was it – his first time whoring for George Tyler, but not, he was sure, his last. He wondered if he could endure years of this.

Who would he be by the end of it? Would he be able to hang on to any sense of himself, or would that be slowly chipped away in a succession of soul-destroying encounters until he didn’t recognise himself ?

An hour or so passed with Martin holding him tight and whispering sweet nothings.

If Alex had been free, he’d have told Martin to fuck off now the sex was over – he’d never enjoyed post-coital cuddling and hated feeling smothered.

He wasn’t free, though, and he felt a wave of helpless frustration welling up angrily inside and then come crashing back down.

He was trapped here, doomed to this life, with no prospect of release or escape.

Men like Martin would slobber over him and fuck him, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it except smile and accept.

For the first time in his life, he wanted to go willingly into a gym so that he could pound his fists into a punch bag and vent his anger there.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see Scarface standing there.

“I thought you might like to know that one of Mr Tyler’s limousines will be here shortly to take you home, Mr Bagshaw,” Scarface said politely.

His gaze flickered over Alex’s naked body with an expression of such intense pity that Alex suddenly understood why Scarface and Fatso hadn’t risen to his barbed baiting over the past few weeks.

They had understood, better than he, what he would be forced to do and what he had become – and they felt sorry for him.

Scarface closed the door, and Martin gave a regretful sigh. “It seems our time together is over. How sad – it was far too short.”

Sliding out of bed, Alex turned on the light and pulled on a pair of boxers and a tee-shirt.

He watched as Martin collected his clothes from where he’d left them, his big gut bouncing as he walked.

There was something both pathetic and benign about him in that moment.

He wasn’t so bad; Alex wouldn’t have chosen him, but he was harmless enough.

Martin threw his clothes onto the bed, and his wallet fell out of his trouser pocket onto the floor by Alex’s bare feet.

Alex picked it up to hand it back to him and a holocard dropped out.

The jolt from the fall turned it on, and a small, grainy hologram flashed into life.

It showed Martin with his arm around a pleasant-looking woman in her forties, while two pre-teen boys stood in front of them, smiling.

“Are they your family?” Alex asked, flicking it off and returning it to the wallet .

Martin snatched it back. “Yes,” he said brusquely.

“Does your wife know you’re out fucking boys when you’re supposed to be on a business trip?” Alex asked, unable to stop himself.

Martin looked up sharply, but Alex stared him out.

The older man crumbled and looked down, shaking his head.

“No. I couldn’t bear to lose her, and I would, if she knew.

I don’t know why I need this, but I do.” He looked up again, helplessly this time.

“I would never… my sons… you understand that I would never…” He looked distraught.

“Yeah,” Alex said quickly. “I get it.”

“You must also understand that it’s only men – not boys – for me, despite… you know.” Martin waved at the bed. “It’s all a harmless fantasy.” His podgy jowls shook as he spoke; he looked wretched.

“It’s okay,” Alex said softly. “I understand the difference between a sex fantasy and real life.”

Martin shot him a weak smile. “You’re a very kind boy; I appreciate that. Lots of people don’t understand that difference.” He gazed at Alex keenly. “I think you understand human frailty because of the part it’s played in your downfall. You’re kinder because of that.”

Alex felt sorry for the man. “You do know about…” He jerked his head at the smartwall, his eyes going to the little red dot in the far top corner that indicated it was recording. Easily missed, especially if you were unfamiliar with smartwall tech, which most people still were.

“Oh yes, I know.” Martin sighed. “I didn’t the first time I was here, of course, but I soon found out.

I fretted about it for weeks. I can’t lose my wife and my boys,” he said firmly, straightening his shoulders.

“So now I just enjoy what’s offered, because it’s all I can do. I make the best of it, you see.”

Alex wondered what part of his soul Martin had sold to Tyler in exchange for silence about his extramarital proclivities. His sympathy faded. Martin might not be a bad man, but he was a weak one. He might not have thought he had a choice, but he had. He still did.

Martin finished dressing and then drew Alex to him for one last kiss.

“Goodbye, my sweet little prince. I do hope we meet again,” he said, patting Alex’s bottom affectionately.

Alex was sure they would. He opened the door, and the waiting Scarface shot him another of those pitying looks before escorting Martin down the corridor towards the lift.

A few seconds later, Clive emerged from Solange’s bedroom, and Fatso fell into step beside him.

Alex waited until they’d gone and then tiptoed across the hallway to Solange’s room.

He tapped on the door and then opened it a fraction.

She was sitting on the side of the bed, naked; she stood up and reached for her dressing gown as he entered, but not before he caught sight of the bruises on her thighs and arms.

“Fucking bastard,” he seethed.

“I’ve had worse.” She knotted the white cotton gown firmly around her slender body while looking at him searchingly. “How are you, Alex? How did it go? Are you okay?”

He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t have a clue,” he said honestly.

He sat down on the side of her bed, and she perched beside him.

“How do you do it, Solange?” he asked. “How do you fake all the smiles, the small talk, and the sex? How do you fake the pleasure… just how?” He shook his head, bewildered.

“You get used to it.”

“How long have you…?” He waved his hand at the bed. “I mean, how many times… for you… and likely for me?”

“I was here for a year after that time you dumped me.” She shot him the faintest ghost of a smile.

“I don’t know how many times I entertained guests, but I’d say it was usually around twice a week – sometimes more.

It’s not actually that bad.” She gave a little shrug.

“I knew prostitutes who had it far worse back in the Quarterlands.”

Alex flinched at the word “prostitutes”. “At least they were their own bosses,” he said. “They could choose who they slept with.”

“I doubt it,” she retorted. “Most of them had pretty nasty pimps, and there was a hell of a lot of trafficking – mostly French and German girls – poor cows. They were pretty much dumped in a room and raped repeatedly, and nobody cared. I know you find it hard to believe, but this was my way out. I signed up to be Tyler’s whore for seven years, and there’s a lump sum waiting for me when my time is up.

I can go out and start my own business, leave all this behind, and make something of myself while I’m still young enough. ”

“Yes – you can,” Alex said bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, resting her forehead against his.

“I’m so sorry, Alex. I didn’t apologise before, but I am now.

I got you into this, and it’s wrong, and I knew that but I didn’t care, because I thought – why should Alexander Lytton have everything and me nothing?

Why shouldn’t I help Tyler bring him down?

He’s just a spoilt brat who doesn’t know what life is like for the rest of us. ”

“Well, you were right about that much at least.”

“But it doesn’t make what happened to you right. I don’t want this for you – I’d do anything to go back and make it not happen. I’m so very sorry.”

Alex drew back and kissed her forehead. “Apology accepted – now forget about it. Tyler would have found a way to have his revenge on my family and me whether you’d agreed to become his IS or not. I’m more to blame for my fate than you. We all make our own choices.”

He thought of the choice he’d made to steal from his father’s company – was that any better than the one she’d made to be Tyler’s honey-trap courtesan?

What about Martin’s, to give in to Tyler’s blackmail rather than risk losing his family?

Martin continued to accept the offer of young men’s bodies to feed his fantasies, while Tyler dangled the footage over him for whatever twisted purpose it served.

Martin could have made a different choice, if he’d been brave enough.

They were all making their own decisions for their own reasons; Alex couldn’t condemn Solange for hers.

“Lorenzo gave me some pills earlier,” he confided. “To help me perform.” He gestured at his crotch. “I didn’t take them, because I didn’t want to admit that this is who I am now.”

She made a face. “Did you manage to…?”

“Yeah – just about.” He thought about it for a moment. “But I’ll take them next time. There’s no point fighting it – I’m Tyler’s whore now.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, both taking comfort from each other.

“You were right about me,” he told her, kissing her hair.

“I had advantages and privilege, and I squandered it all. It’s not worse for me than for you just because we had different expectations of life to begin with.

It shouldn’t be, anyway. I did walk around with my eyes closed.

I was too caught up in my own stupid problems, which, now I look back, I can see were hardly problems at all.

Not compared to this, anyway.” He gave a little bark of laughter.

“I never thought much about what it’s like to be an IS.

I used to taunt Neil about it all the time, without realising what it was like from his point of view. ”

“To be fair, Neil is a total dick,” she said.

He laughed. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“You gonna be okay?” she asked softly.

He glanced at her. “No, but I’m going to try. If you can do this, then so can I.”

“It’s easier for me, though,” she said.

“How?”

She sighed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Because Tyler’s not trying to break me,” she said sadly.