All Nefarium stories take place in the same universe (all found here) where a shadowy and unethical organisation plays puppetmaster. You may notice some common characters as well as recurring themes. Thanks to my editor Rex Brookdale and those of you offering feedback and new ideas for Nefarium stories! I know leaving comments or messaging the author on a site like this may feel odd to some of you, but I really appreciate hearing what you liked and what I should work on.
You can leave anonymous feedback by clicking on my profile, where you can see my other stories, as well as other pieces you may like by other authors in my Favourites. They’re all a similar genre to what I write: erotic predicaments forcing characters into peculiar situations with friends or acquaintances. Thanks for reading.
– Nefarium
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“Myself and three friends would love to stay in the beautiful Barcelona apartment you have listed online. We’re in town for 2 nights travelling together and your place is perfectly situated. There’s no couples so the fact that your place has a bedroom for each of us is amazing!
A bit about us, we’re all young professionals in our 20s. I’m Quinn, the organised one, so the booking will be on my account and paid from my cards. I’ve been friends with Will since we were kids, we lived on the same street, went to the same school and our parents were close, so we spent a lot of time together. He was literally in the family photo at my wedding last year. My friend Meena is also coming, we used to live together so I know her really well but we’ve struggled to meet up regularly this year, so glad I managed to convince her to join us, it will be lovely to catch up again! She’s bringing a work friend of hers – Ellen which Will and I haven’t met before, so that will be nice.
I work in finance, I know people think it’s boring but I enjoy it. Meena is a primary school teacher for fifth grade, I don’t know what grade Ellen teaches though. Will is a creative type, super talented, he dabbles as a freelance artist, but has had a steady gig doing set-design for TV for a year now. All of us have been meaning to visit Barca for a while, so we’re really excited! Ideally we would like to get a mix of the culture and nightlife in town, so any recommendations would be amazing if you could share. Many thanks! Q”
It was no surprise that Quinn and Will were first to arrive. Quinn’s obsession with prompt timekeeping made it a virtual certainty. She unlocked the door with the key she’d retrieved from the keysafe, and drew open the heavy square oak door with considerable effort, planting her feet firmly and pushing with her shoulder. The rubber soles of her shoes squeaked against the tile, and the door rolled open to reveal a wide hallway extending forward several paces. Lights blinked on automatically as they entered. A warm golden glow emanating from the square lamps built into the high ceilings.
The place looked spotlessly clean, the walls a flawless white, the floorboards a light beige wood that matched the doors: three on either side. It almost felt clinical; it beckoned to the contents of their suitcases, inviting them to fill the vacuum and make it feel inhabited.
“Holy shit Quinn, how did you find this place?” Will asked, mouth agape. It reminded him of brand new shoes in need of breaking in; like they didn’t really belong to him until the first few scuffs and marks began to show. He wandered in, dumping his holdall unceremoniously in the middle of the hall as he stared up and around.
The hall opened out to a large space, a combined kitchen and living room area split down the middle, a bookcase on the back wall ran floor-to-ceiling to mark the divide. On the left side the kitchen was furnished with shiny chrome appliances, white countertops, and a marble-topped island. To the right, a large grey corner sofa sectioned off the lounging area, its back to the kitchen and hallway, facing an unnecessarily large tv mounted on the wall. Huge windows on the left and right-hand walls bookended the main space, letting in a cool natural white light from between the horizontal slits of the wooden venetian blinds.
“Just the usual apps,” she said. She crinkled her nose dismissively at his praise, as if it hadn’t taken hours of research to score a spot that suited all of their tastes and budgets. Not to mention the countless revisions of her submission. “Apparently the owner of this place is super picky about who stays here. I wrote a little write-up to seal the deal,” she continued. “Did you even look at the links I shared?”
“Nah. I trust you Q, you’re great at this stuff,” he murmured absentmindedly, his attention caught by the touch screens that dotted around the room. He wandered over to one, examining how skillfully it had been built into the wall, the glowing screen displaying stats about the weather, as well as controls for the lighting, and air con. He heard Quinn follow him in and close the door softly behind them.
The bag he had left in the middle of the floor drew a begrudged sigh from Quinn, and she snapped it up to place it neatly by the front door next to her own comically large lilac suitcase. Continuing into the heart of the apartment.
A swell of pride gathered in her chest. The place practically sparkled. She gazed at the furnishings in various shades of white and grey, and the colorful books stacked in the shelves of the mammoth bookcase. Looking back toward the front door, she discovered two large pieces of art which flanked the mouth of the hallway and came into view once inside the main living space.
One was of a man and woman embracing, their bodies wrapped around one another, their outlines composed of flecks of pink and red paint. The other depicted two women back-to-back, in shades of blue and purple watercolour. They towered over her, yet the poses felt strangely intimate. She certainly hadn’t seen these included in the pictures online, and as she registered their existence, she sensed immediately that Will would love them. She turned to him, and saw his eyes already on them, drinking in the details of the brushstrokes.
As they stared up at the pictures in silence, small unseen camera lenses stared back at them, concealed in the frame of the painting, hidden behind the glass of the touch screens, along with an army of other sensors embedded around the apartment. Their image was being captured for an audience watching live, the angle switching to a far shot from across the room as Quinn tore her eyes from the paintings to look over at Will.
His signature tatty black sketchbook, which he had been clutching through the entire flight, cab ride, and walk over here, now was hugged to his chest, as if he was soaking in the creative essence of the art and channelling it into the pages. She took his contemplative nods of approval as a definitive commendation of the craftsmanship, but all she could tell was that they looked expensive. Everything here looked expensive.
Aside from the peculiar artwork the place was exactly as she had imagined, and she was pleased that Will seemed equally impressed with her choice.
He drew a deep breath, finally letting his gaze float from the canvas to the couch. He meandered over to it and sprawled unceremoniously down onto it, taking up a third of what was clearly an eight-person sofa.
“Shoes off the upholstery please!” She instructed half-jokingly,eliciting a bemused sideways glance from him. “Just because we’re on holiday, doesn’t mean we have to be uncivilised.”
Will rolled his eyes but relented, shuffling into a normal seated position, planting his shoes down with an exaggerated thud. He opened his sketchbook and flipped through it to the two pieces he had been working on much of the day: an outline of a man falling through the clouds, done in light non-committal pencil strokes; the second a more realised abstract sketch of wisps around a smokey aura. He had intended this last one to be a life-drawing of an open hand, but he had smudged it by carelessly leaving it on the floor while napping on the flight, and decided to just go with it. The shading he had inadvertently created was quite pleasing; it didn’t matter that the page was now a tad crumpled.
Checking her phone, Quinn said, “Right. Meena and Ellen will have landed by now. So they should be here in like half an hour.” She peered over at Will for a reaction, but he didn’t acknowledge her, his attention tethered to his sketchbook. He got like this sometimes, lost in his art, tongue paused between his lips, pencil poised in a firm grip held by grubby fingers. She shook her head and spoke again louder. “Will? Hey, the other two will be here soon; maybe pick out a room?”
This time Will turned his chin up slightly towards her, his eyes still locked on the page as he nodded a little. She sighed. He was off with the fairies, and on holidays like this where she had a planned itinerary, she always felt like she spent the entire time dragging him around to fit her carefully crafted schedule. Each time she tried to convince herself to just leave him be; let the two of them arrive late or miss items she had planned…. But in the end she always reverted.
He looked away from the drawing for a moment to gather up some inspiration, and suddenly noticed Quinn staring at him expectantly. Had she said something to him? He gave her a small smile.
She returned his smile with an exaggerated look of defeat, as if to say that she was already fed up with him, and they’d only just arrived.
Despite her aggravated expression, Will couldn’t help but notice that Quinn looked at home in a place like this. Her expression softened, giving him a warm smile as he gazed at her. For a moment she reminded him of the aura that he had been sketching.
He would never dream of living somewhere so decadent; but she had expensive taste, and was often swathed in cashmere or silk. Her skin was pale, but in a creamy sort of way adding a delicateness to her, her slim figure and painted nails all markedly ladylike. Her makeup minimal and tasteful, she deliberately downplayed her good looks by pulling her golden hair back into a neat ponytail high up at the back of her crown.
A sharp dresser, a sharp thinker; even her features had a sharpness to them: her small pointed nose, and thin pink lips. Her eyes seemed to examine you: unblinking blue sapphires fitted into large round sockets that emanated severity, but simultaneously gave the impression that she was always giving you her full attention.
Today she had chosen to wear black-and-white houndstooth high-waisted trousers, a thick white jumper, and gold stud earrings to match the black leather pumps with gold accents at the heel. She was always done up like this. It didn’t suit her to dress casually. As if to accentuate her sophistication, her posture was precise, her chin always held ever so slightly too high to be natural.
Quinn could see his mind had wandered again. She sighed, then turned and walked back into the hall to retrieve her suitcase. “I’m just gonna unpack and get changed.”
“Unpack? Quinn, we only just got here!” She heard him shout down the hall to her, but she ignored him.
She had already studied the floor plan, all the bedrooms were the same. Two bedrooms on one side of the hall, and two on the other, a shared bathroom between them. Facing away from the front door, she gravitated toward the first on her right, electing to secure it as her own bedroom.
It was a fairly small space: a windowless rectangle with pale grey walls, a plain double bed tucked in the corner, and a set of brown drawers mounted into the wall opposite. Alongside the drawers stood the door to the bathroom. It was a little cramped for her liking, only a few steps from one wall to the other, but it felt cosy. Besides, it had been hard to find an apartment with four rooms for this budget, and she wasn’t really expecting they’d be in their rooms much, except to sleep. Curiously there were neither pillows nor a duvet on the bed, but she assumed she would find these, along with sheets and towels, in a cupboard elsewhere. Right now, she was raring to unpack.
“Quinn?! Come on we can unpack later, let’s go for a drink or something.” Will’s pleading was barely audible as her door began to slowly swing shut.
There was a self-close mechanism at the top of the door, a fire safety measure perhaps; in any case it meant she didn’t have to resort to closing the door on Will’s protestations herself.
“Meena and her friend will be here soon, we can head out once they get here,” she called back in a conciliatory tone, seconds before the door hissed shut, not giving him the chance to try and convince her otherwise.
Excitedly, she tossed her phone on the bed and positioned her suitcase on the floor, sitting it down flat and unzipping all three sides, throwing the lid back to open it like a clam shell. She knelt beside it and began the process of finding homes for all of her belongings. Choices were limited as there were no shelves, and curiously, no hanging space either, so the main art was in selecting the right drawer.
A bleeping from behind her caught her attention. She turned to see a touch screen embedded into the wall by the door. The display was taken up by the music dashboard, a triangular play button flashing, beckoning her to click it. Standing up, she went over and tapped the icon, and was immediately greeted by a playlist loaded up with some vaguely familiar, summer holiday tunes blasting from hidden overhead speakers. This place was incredible! With the music booming, it started to really feel like a vacation.
The camera followed her as she moved away from the wall and back to her suitcase. It cut to another angle, the lens concealed in the bed frame, allowing for a better view of her figure as she kneeled to repeatedly reach into her case, presenting her peachy behind for the invisible audience as she folded and sorted.
It wasn’t long before Quinn was finished, with all her clothes, toiletries, electronics, and miscellaneous items tucked away in the drawers. She had discovered that the top one was locked, but there was plenty of room in the others. The owners must keep some items of their own locked away in there, she thought, but she saw no lock or keyhole.
She closed up the newly emptied suitcase. As she stood it up and rolled it into the corner, she spotted a laundry basket built into the wall by the door: a white metal cuboid, extending out of the wall at hip-height down to the floor, with an icon of a laundry basket on the front. Quite the ingenious interior design trick, she thought.
Now that everything was in its place, she could change into more evening-appropriate clothing. She pulled off her jumper and tossed it into the laundry bin, kicking off her shoes and then peeling off her socks to throw in too. She undid her trousers, sliding them down her legs.
Standing in her underwear, the camera took the opportunity to pan slowly up her lithe body, from her white-painted toes up to her white satin panties and matching lacy bra. Her bum was firm, with just a hint of a bounce as she walked, her boobs small but enough to fill her B-cups, and her stomach taut. She ran her hands down her abdomen, the light glistening in the diamond and gold of her engagement and wedding rings. She was in the best shape of her life, having trimmed down last year for her wedding dress, and proud at having been able to keep up the barre classes and weekly runs. She actually felt athletic for the first time in her life, and she looked the part.
In the living room, Will slumped on the sofa, having returned to his outstretched position now that Quinn had left him unsupervised. He added more detail to the sketch of the figure falling through the clouds, adding shadow and detail to the sky before stopping to admire his handiwork.
Will rarely planned his holidays, as this took a sort of forethought which he lacked, so unless a friend gave him the option to tag along, he found his thrills in other forms of exploration. He went on long nature walks, toured aimlessly around the city, spent hours, sometimes days painting an imagined paradise. Things went best when he made it up as he went along, going with whatever opportunity presented itself. It showed in his art: a seemingly random collection of pieces, from stunning impressions of colour and light, to sprawling vistas, or life drawings of incredible detail. His talent was awe-inspiring, and his work always sold well, but it had been weeks since he had created anything he was happy with. The next idea just wasn’t coming; but he was sure that travelling somewhere new would help. He’d already begun to sense new shapes coming together in his mind.
The sudden burst of music from Quinn’s bedroom startled him out of his trance, only now reminding him where he was. He chuckled to himself, taking a deep breath and tossing his sketchbook down onto the couch.
A vague recollection of Quinn suggesting he pick a bedroom spurred him to his feet, strolling over to the hallway where the volume of the music swelled. Will could picture her in there obsessing over where to neatly put each and every item, each placed precisely in some sort of complex system. She had always been like this, and he recalled making a massive mess in her playroom when they were younger, only for her to sigh – hands on hips – then begin sorting the toys by colour to tidy them away. Tidying up was her favourite part.
“Even now she’s clearing up after me,” he thought. His bag was no longer where he had left it in the hall. In fact it was nowhere to be seen, and he presumed it had been put away sensibly in the bedroom she had picked out for him. He opened the door next to Quinn’s, surprised to find it was a bathroom. The space was long and narrow, tiled with white squares on the walls and floor. The music was even louder in there, benefiting from the superior acoustics afforded by the tiles. As he wandered inside, he registered the large shower cubicle in the corner beside him, noting the toilet on his other side. The far end consisted of a full-length wall mirror. He stepped over to it, admiring his reflection and watching the door close on its own behind him. There were doors on the walls either side of the sink leading to the bedrooms.
Will decided he would prefer to set up in the adjoining room to his left, so he could share this bathroom with Quinn. He knew her much better than Meena or the girl she was bringing, and felt he’d be better at navigating any potential awkward encounters with Quinn than with the other two.
Swaying absentmindedly to the cheery music, he noticed that it was some sort of mashup, one song riffing and mixing into the next without a pause. It wasn’t to his taste, but it was catchy and made the place feel warm and more homely, Quinn had a knack for that sort of thing.
At the sink, he flipped on the tap, running his hand through the foamy water. He cupped some water and brought it to his face to give his skin a light scrub. Travelling always made him weary, and despite how sunny it was outside it was getting to early evening time now. The cold water hitting his face helped refresh and awaken him a bit.
Quinn added the black and white trousers to the mounting pile inside the laundry basket, pausing for a moment to decide what to wear, when her thoughts were interrupted by a great whooshing sound, barely audible above the music. She jolted in surprise as the clothes in the basket were suddenly sucked downward, disappearing as the bottom opened and the items continued down some sort of chute. A gust of air swept upwards, tickling her chest and tousling her ponytail as she leapt over to see a trapdoor in the bottom of the basket return to its place. What on earth was that? The clothes were gone. She stared in bewilderment. Did the chute lead to a laundry room somewhere in the apartment block? There hadn’t been any mention of it on the website, but it would be amazing if it were true. Perhaps it was a common thing in Spain, but she hadn’t heard of it before. The surprise had flustered her momentarily, but she reasoned that it would have to be something to figure out once she was dressed.
Still puzzled, she turned to the drawers to retrieve something new to wear, noticing all of them were now shut … Quinn was sure she had left the bottom drawer open. A crease formed in her brow as she approached and tugged on the handle. She tried the one above, then another, but they all seemed to be locked shut. A little panic fluttered in her belly as she tried one after the other, growing increasingly perturbed that she now had no access to clothes at all. In her mounting distress, she barely noticed the volume of the music had been subtly rising. Yanking the top drawer in desperation, she was startled to find that it opened; it was empty except for a black item resting in the centre. Her panic plateaued, and in her curiosity she paused a moment to peer down at the foreign object, then plucked it out to inspect it. It took her a moment to recognise it.
It was a collar. Far too big for a pet. The strap was thick black leather, like a belt; expensive and soft to the touch, but firm. At one end was a black metal clasp, the strap passing through it and peeping out the other side, with a small round hole in the surface of the metal. On the other end of the strap, a black metal jack protruded from the leather. It seemed that the metal jack on one end of the strap was to be inserted into the hole in the metal clasp, to secure it.
After her fascination subsided, it slowly dawned on her that this was being presented to her to wear. She was trapped with no clothes, in nothing but her extremely revealing lingerie and a little jewelry. Now, she was being offered a collar. A creeping discomfort set in, sharpening her senses. She became acutely aware of the music, neverending and now so loud she could barely hear herself think.
She placed the collar back in the open drawer and moved to the door to open it and call for Will. Maybe he could lend her a towel to cover up. She yanked the handle but it wouldn’t budge; she pulled it down over and over but despite her furious attempts there was no give. She rushed over to the door to the bathroom and found that locked too. She was completely trapped. She yelled his name, but it was easily drowned out by the music; even as she called at the top of her lungs she could barely hear herself.
Will stared back at himself in the mirror, water dripping from his face. Patting himself dry on a fluffy white towel, he admired his recent trim. The short tuft of black hair on his head was still gelled in place, a fresh fade on the sides leaving more skin showing than hair, the way he liked it. He had a sculpted look to him, thanks mostly to the well-groomed facial hair and his pronounced jawline. His brown eyes brimmed with that unique enthusiasm that comes with travelling somewhere new. His long narrow face was looking pale though. He was in need of some beach-tanning, but his dark beard did a little to add some colour to his features. He had always been bony and skinny in his youth, but he had filled out nicely in recent years, now carrying a healthy bit of weight. Given how tall he was, it was distributed in such a way that it was flattering: larger around the upper body and slanting inward towards his skinny calves. Quinn joked that he was shaped like an upside-down Christmas tree. His slim blue jeans only accentuated his shape; the white t-shirt and whisper-thin cardigan in khaki green creating quite a trendy ensemble, his sleeves rolled up so that his various beaded bracelets were visible.
Will thought he heard his name being called, but couldn’t determine the source. It was faint, perhaps imagined. “Yeah?” he replied, but didn’t bother to raise his voice above the music. It might be Meena and Ellen arriving, he thought. He left the bathroom to greet them, but found the hall empty. He looked around to confirm they weren’t there, then tried Quinn’s door which he found locked. With a deep sigh and a shrug, he returned to his sketchbook on the couch.
The girls should be here by now. Meena was always pinching pennies on her teacher’s salary, so as well as insisting on a cheaper flight he suspected she had tried to brave the public transport. Even if the saving was minimal, Meena always had to do things her way. He pictured her, wedged between bickering locals on a bus, getting irritated as she often did. Struck with the urge to draw it, he flicked to a new page despite not having finished either of the last two illustrations.
Quinn grabbed up her phone from the bed, fiddling to find her messaging app, beginning to tremble from mounting adrenaline. Before she could even think of what message she would even send, she realised there was no signal. She couldn’t call, text, or connect to the internet … there had been full bars when she had been using her phone in the stairwell. She was frantic now; there was no denying that someone was toying with her. A prickly sensation raced up her back; paranoia getting the better of her, insisting that she was being watched.
Defeatedly slumping to sit on the bed, she took a breath and gathered herself. If she could just get out of this room, Will or even one of the girls would have clothes she could borrow when they arrived. That was reassuring. Being in her underwear wasn’t much different to being on the beach in a bikini. It was just a very lacy, overtly sexy kind of bikini. None of that changed the fact that some sick bastard had presumably installed some elaborate mechanism to record girls on vacation undressing. Her skin crawled at the thought, and her eyes met the collar that sat in the drawer with a sinking feeling.
She returned to the door that led into the hall, slamming her palm against the wood. The music was now so loud she couldn’t even hear the impact. Next she brought her attention to the touch screen and tried to turn down the music, looking for a way to adjust the volume, however the music interface had disappeared and was replaced with a full screen popup.
‘Please equip the collar to unlock the door’
The words caught her off-guard. Quinn froze on the spot, taking a few moments to process it. She was paralysed, stood stock still as yet another song was spliced into the deafening track, a constant distraction of noise coupled with an onslaught of terrifying information. It fatigued her, bringing a dull ache to her temple. Her breath came in short bursts and she started to feel faint. This couldn’t be real. Was this only happening to her or was Will being targeted too? Had the other girls arrived yet? Were they being trapped in the same way?
Perhaps no one else would be as eager to unpack as she had been; they might all still be in the living room together. If she could get out of here fast, she might be able to warn them.
She felt responsible: whatever was going on here, it was Quinn that had chosen this place. She had to do something, but could she really bring herself to … put on a collar?
Pounding the door with her fist a few times in a last ditch effort to get help, she pressed her ear to the wood but heard no response from outside. She tried over and over, knowing it was fruitless, yet unable to give up. It took some time before she decided she was really going to have to concede. It was either that, or stay trapped in here and risk a similar fate for her friends.
Returning to the collar, she lifted it up between her thumb and forefinger like a piece of evidence, dangling it in front of her to get another look. Somehow she was going to have to explain all of this to her husband at some point. Would anyone even believe a story like this? The knot in her belly tightened as she considered her options, but there was really no choice at all. It was do something, or do nothing, and Quinn always chose action over inaction.
Bringing the leather collar to her neck, she took each end of the strap in her hands and slid them around to meet in the back. It clicked in place, and it was a relief to find that the collar fit fairly loosely. A small round mirror built into the wall nearby allowed her to stare back at her reflection.
Something about seeing herself this way was quite alluring; she had never dressed like this before. She had thought many times about getting fun little outfits but it had felt wrong, something for other people to do, those … experimental types of people. Besides, her husband was quite straightforward about that sort of thing; he wouldn’t approve of broaching taboo territory.
Her hands let go of the collar and dropped down by her sides in resignation, and she twisted her head left and then right for a final look at the poorly fitting item. Her eyes widened in horror as the collar suddenly tightened around her neck. The clasp at the back seemed to have some sort of motor, feeding the strap through the metal clasp to overlap itself on the inside. It was swift: the fabric fit snugly against her skin within seconds, complete before she could react. Its grip was firm, pressing slightly on her airpipe and leaving no room to even claw a finger under the leather.
This was so much worse. How could she have been so stupid? Up to now she had been forced into this horrific predicament, but the collar had been a conscious choice. Trying to tug at it only made it less comfortable, and the leather was strong and unforgiving. Fiddling with the clasp, she found no release and no give at all – it wasn’t coming off.
She eyed the door, the touch screen flashing to tell her it was now unlocked. Now that she could escape, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to dressed like this … but two of her friends and a young woman she barely even knew were caught up in this mess with her; she couldn’t just stand there and wait. Maybe Meena and Ellen hadn’t arrived yet. How long had Quinn been in here? It felt like an age, but she had totally lost track of time in her panic. She had to hurry.
In a moment of fearlessness, she solidified her resolve and pulled the door open. “Will? Will? Are you there?” she yelled, tiptoeing out of the room and glad to put distance between her and the cacophony of noise.
“Quinn?” She heard his voice call back from the kitchen, a sound so reassuring that she rushed over, stopping dead in her tracks when she caught sight of him. He was standing in the kitchen looking through a folder, with an unfamiliar woman. No, the woman looked slightly familiar in fact Quinn had seen a photo of her in their group chat.
It was Meena’s friend Ellen, staring at her in surprise and then with an appreciative smirk she gave Quinn a once-over, her slow studious gaze pausing to drink in all the exposed skin and lacy cleavage.
Will stood wide-eyed, slack-jawed, doing his utmost to maintain eye contact.
Quinn blushed at being inspected so thoroughly, and for once, no words formed.
It was Ellen who finally broke the silence. Dryly she quipped, “So you must be Quinn?”