It is your first sex toy in a while. Maybe it’s better to go with something uncomplicated.

“I’ll take the dildo, I think.”

The attendant nods. “It’s a good investment for sure. Lifetime guarantee on these things. Should we just check quickly to make sure everything’s in order?”

He pops open the box, where the dildo rests amongst glittering tissue. He picks it up and presses the small button at the base, causing the dildo to thrust with abandon, almost ricocheting out of his hand.

“Ah, seems to be in working order,” he says, flipping through the various speeds before shutting it down and placing it back in the box. He rings it up and pushes the box across the counter with a smile.

“You alright?” he asks, his smile faltering at the look on your face.

You feel melancholy all of a sudden, but you’re not sure why. You shake it off and flash him a grin.

“Yeah, of course. Thanks again for your help.”

All through the train ride home and the long walk up the stairs to your flat, the bad feeling persists. You should be happy. You just bought yourself a sorely-needed present. But you can’t help but feel like you’ve somehow missed out on something.

As you enter the flat, you are hit with the familiar smell of cooked tomatoes and spices. They made chili. Again. You don’t even bother to go into the kitchen: you already know what kind of mess you’ll find. You know you shouldn’t confront your roommates when you’re in a bad mood, but you can’t help it. Dropping the box, you stomp through the flat and fling open the door to their room.

The room, as always, is in slight disarray. Your four flatmates are all in the double-headboard ultra-large California king bed in the centre of the room in various compromising positions. When you first came to look at the flat, you were under the impression that only JoJo was living there. However, in just a matter of months her entire polycule of partners has come to live in the room.

JoJo is closest to you, clad only in a half-finished knitted strap-on harness, grinding against its vibrating dildo attachment. Georgie leans over her, alternately kissing her neck and eating mouthfuls of chili, a newspaper flung across his naked lap. Across from them, Joey and Georgia make out topless over a cracked Scrabble board, occasionally grabbing fistfulls of tiles to shower over each other. When they hear the door bang open, they all break apart, looking confused.

“What’s the latest chickadee?” calls JoJo cheerfully, one hand still firmly around the dildo.

They all look at you expectantly. You feel your anger coursing through you, pent up over the long day, and you can’t stop yourself.

“All you ever do is fuck and make chili! Can’t you ever clean the house? Or, I don’t know, leave this bed??” you shout, fuming.

Georgia brushes the letter Q from Joey’s shoulder, and gives you a patronizing look.

“Are you sure it’s really the chili you’re upset about Charlie? I sense something else is going on with you.”

Georgie gestures at you with his bowl. “Would some food help?”

“I. Don’t. Want. Your. Fucking. Chili!” you yell, before turning around and racing to your room, grabbing your forgotten box as you go.

Once inside your room, the fight goes out of you. You slump to the floor. Why did you do that? Sure they can be annoying, but they mean well. Georgia is right. You’re just in an awful mood.

You lay on the bed and reach for the box, pulling out your new dildo. You can apologize tomorrow — your roommates aren’t ones to hold a grudge. You slowly slide off your work trousers and blouse, feeling the stress of the long day coming off with them.

The dildo’s weight feels good in your hands. You press it between your legs, feeling the pressure through your pants. You reach down to turn the vibration on to the lowest setting before nestling it back between your legs and squeezing them together tightly. The buzz moves through you and you feel the first tinges of pleasure in your clit. You begin to move the dildo up and down, stroking yourself through your pants.

As you start to get wet, involuntary thoughts pop in your head. You imagine Princessy Kisska, her sharp bob and her golden eyes flashing, just as they did in the one paparazzi photo someone managed to snap of her. She’s leading you towards the factory gates, a smile on her face.

You turn up the vibration, feeling it pulse through you. You slide your pants down and press the tip of the silicone cock against your wet pussy.

You think Kisska is about to lead you into the factory door, but instead she pushes you onto the steps. There is a crowd behind you, all hoping to get a glance inside. You are about to protest, to say you should go somewhere more private, but she puts a finger to your lips. Then she steps back, dropping her silky robe to reveal the knitted strap-on harness, with the Kisska dildo standing erect at its centre. She pulls your blouse over your head and lifts your skirt, smiling at the wetness she finds between your legs. As she slowly presses the dildo inside you in your fantasy, you do the same to yourself, feeling as it fills you up, the vibration still sending little shocks to your clit.

You can’t make out the faces of the crowd, but you know they are watching as you moan and press your hips up to meet Kisska’s. She smiles down at you, gripping you by your hair and pulling you to her.

“Aren’t you a good girl?” she whispers in your ear, and you moan in response, and as she fucks you harder and harder, you press the dildo deeper and deeper inside you. You can feel the crowd watching.

“Do you like cumming for an audience?” Kisska asks, her tongue against your ear.

“Yes” you moan aloud, and you feel the orgasm rising inside of you. You’ll draw it out longer, linger in this fantasy with Princessy Kisska and the anonymous crowd. You deserve to cum hard after all these months.

“Yes, yes, yes.”