TCB

It didn’t begin any more unusually than any other day. Mark woke to find himself naked, save for a pair of sunglasses, unsure of how, when or why he went to sleep. He was also handcuffed to the bedpost. He was still cloudy from whatever he’d ended the night before on and had a slight throb behind his forehead, again all normal.

It was on the eve of their first anniversary as a couple. They had booked into an expensive hotel in the far north of Scotland, a very Masonic-like place where the snobs went to fine dine and hold their noses high while playing golf and complaining about the working class taking up too much space in the world. They had ordered room service and spent the best part of the weekend fucking on a huge four-poster bed, as well as on most of the other furniture in the lavish room, plus other parts of the hotel. The weekend reached an unfortunate climax when Janine convinced Mark that if he wanted to fuck her in the arse, he had to take it in the arse at least once himself. Not wanting to say no to anything sexual or lose his anal privileges, he agreed. They didn’t have any sex toys, and when you’re that far north you’re never going to happen upon an Ann Summers in the wee hours. Instead, they improvised and used a champagne bottle. Unfortunately, neither of them thought to unwrap the foil from the top of the glass bottle first, which resulted in Mark’s anus being cut to ribbons and him bleeding every time he shat for the next few weeks. Not the best climax to a raunchy weekend in the wilderness.