An adult stories – High Life: Where Angels Dare by oneagainst,oneagainst [Author’s note: Alice is married to James, a professional football player who has found himself at a loose end after retiring from the sport. After attending a charity auction in which she was outbid for her own husband, Alice and James have been blackmailed into service by Jodie and her upper-echelon friends. They have no choice but to do her bidding, letting Jodie pimp James out to clients, otherwise she will release the videos she took.
However, Jodie didn’t reckon with them falling into an unlikely friendship with one of their clients, Ophelia (Fee) Raine (HL09). Fee and her husband Barton have been helping Alice and James collate the evidence they’ll need to bring Jodie and her little empire down.
This story is part of the Midnight at the Lost & Found Author Challenge.]
—
WHERE ANGELS DARE
Alice got out of the back of the car, followed by Fee. The alleyway was deserted, but even so, she felt vulnerable and conspicuous. The driver’s side window came down and James poked his head out.
“You good?” he asked.
“I’m freezing,” Alice replied, hugging herself.
“No, babe, you’re hot.”
“Jesus, James, how can you…?”
She faltered, staring at her husband’s face as he broke out into a grin.
“Bastard,” she muttered, “I should have talked you into this instead.”
James shrugged, smiling, “Oh, yeah, and how would that have worked? A celebrity football star attempting to walk around incognito. Yeah, I’d have totally been able to pull that off in there.”
“We could have found you a mask,” Alice countered, playfully.
“I’m too good looking.”
“And modest. Maybe Barton could have found you a full gimp hood. I reckon there’s still time, the night’s young.”
James laughed, flashing white teeth.
“You two done? I’ve got nipples like rivet holders, and it’s not from seeing your delectable rear,” Fee called out from behind her.
Alice turned to her friend, eyebrows cocked.
“Where on earth did you get that from?”
“Sailors.”
“Really?”
“Fuck off Alice, what do you think? I’m bloody freezing in this, let’s get into the club.”
Fee had wrapped her arms around herself too, dressed almost identically. The two women faced each other in the alley. Fee reached out her hand and Alice took it.
“You both look amazing,” James commented.
Alice gave him a look over her shoulder as Fee led her away, saying, “You promise you’ll stay right here, okay?”
“Yes. We’re going nowhere. If you hit an issue, I’ll be in there in thirty seconds.”
“Mask or no mask.”
“Alice, if you’re in trouble, fuck the consequences.”
His expression became serious. Over his shoulder, in the passenger seat, Barton nodded. Alice nodded back, feeling the eyes of the two men on them as they watched their wives line up at the back entrance to the Lost and Found.
On the door, a large Pacific Islander stood guard in a black suit with an incongruous pair of black rabbit ears mounted on his head. He looked the women up and down, the tattoo on the side of his face wrinkling as he smiled.
“Not leaving much to the imagination there, ladies,” he remarked. “I don’t recall seeing you before.”
Alice felt her cheeks flush and she glanced towards Fee. Her friend raised her chin defiantly, rolling back her shoulders, straightening up. Even so, her head barely came up to the big man’s chin.
“We heard it was fancy dress,” Fee said.
Alice and Fee were wearing matching outfits, sewn by Fee herself. When she’d first shown Alice what they’d both be wearing for the fancy dress event at the Lost and Found kink club, Alice had baulked, shaking her head violently. But Fee had talked her around, taking her through her reasons, until finally Alice ha acquiesced to the other woman. Besides, she’d told Alice, you’re going to look so hot in this.
Standing in front of the doorman in the darkened alleyway, hearing the thud of music coming from inside, Alice didn’t feel hot: she felt naked. The theme of the event was Alice in Wonderland, and given the reason they were there, Fee had dismissed the idea of coming as Alice, or the Cheshire Cat, or any of the main characters. They needed to be low-ley, anonymous, for what they needed to do.
Fee had instead dressed them both in sheer body stockings, with matching knee-high stiletto boots. Over Fee’s crotch was the trefoil shape of the suit of Clubs in black satin, inverted so that the middle lobe was pointed downwards to shield her pussy through the semi-translucent stocking. Another club was stitched to her chest, the side lobes shielding her nipples. The design was repeated on her back, offering some measure of modesty over the cleft of her bottom. Her blonde hair was coiled up into a tight bun.
Alice was dressed the same, her crotch hidden behind a red heart. On her chest, an inverted red heart swept down from a point in the middle of her cleavage to encompass her breasts. Her blonde hair was curled up also in a tight bun. She felt Fee’s hand descend to the red heart sewn over her rear, resting there lightly as she faced up to the doorman.
“We’re a pair of cards. She’s the deuce of hearts,” Fee said.
“I kinda got that,” the doorman replied wryly.
Fee approached him with wide eyes, “And I’m the two of clubs, baby.”
“I’m absolutely certain you are. Come in, it’s chilly out here, eh?”
Fee grinned as the big man stepped aside. She placed her hand on the red heart over Alice’s bottom and gave her a little push into the warmth and the shelter of the club.
“You can remove your hand now,” Alice murmured to her.
Her words had the opposite effect. Fee cupped her buttocks and then gave a playful squeeze.
“You are just way too cute, Alice. You’re making me think awful thoughts.”
They stepped into an enclosed space at the foot of a set of stairs, lit only by a single bulb. There was a man here, big and dark like the man on the door.
“Not been here before?” he asked.
“No,” Alice replied.
“Okay, in that case, a few points of order. The playrooms are upstairs, and they’re open to everyone tonight. Respect personal space. The main party is through that door, which means you need one of these.”
He held up a set of wristbands to them.
“Choose your adventure, ladies,” he told them.
“In what way?” Alice asked, puzzled.
“Choose how you want to play. Red means you get left alone. Green means open to play, Amber means only with consent.”
Alice frowned at the choices. She pointed at the latter two.
“What’s the difference between green and amber? Surely, they both need your consent?”
“Ah, yeah. Okay. No, green means you are looking for fun on your own. It’s called free use. Amber means they have to ask your partner for permission to have fun with you.”
“Partner?” Alice echoed.
Fee selected a red wristband and wrapped it around her wrist.
“Yeah, Alice, partner.”
Alice watched in consternation as Fee took an amber-coloured band and wrapped it around Alice’s wrist.
“There, now if you want to have fun, you just ask me and I’ll let you play.”
Fee flashed a little sultry smile at her.
“If you’re a good girl for me, that is.”
Alice’s mouth opened, but Fee’s hand was back in its position, spread across the red heart over her bottom, directing her towards the large door from which the music and the noise was emanating. Alice found herself being led onto the main floor of the Lost and Found. Fee brought her lips close to Alice’s ear,
“Good girls get rewards, Alice. You’re a good girl aren’t you?”
“Fee….”
“Fee? Maybe it should be Mistress, tonight.”
“Fee,” Alice insisted, “Let’s just concentrate. We’ve got a job to do.”
They stopped in the doorway and Fee turned to face her friend.
“I know, Alice,” she replied, “I’m just fooling.”
“I’m not. We have to be on the lookout.”
“Yeah, about that, uh, what are we looking out for?”
Fee took a step forward, passing through the doorway. The music hit them like a wave, then the sticky heat of the packed throng. There was a wall of bodies in front of them, dressed in leather and latex and lace, or just showing bare skin, with studs and hoops, chains glittering, fur, masks, boots.
“Anything suspicious,” Alice muttered.
Fee surveyed the tumult in front of them.
“Yeah,” she replied, “Good luck with that.”
—
Ophelia Raine was never one to take things lying down, and tonight was no exception. Fee had a mission, and she was here to execute.
The flirting with Alice was merely to distract herself from what they were here to do. Plus, the blonde woman’s face had betrayed her emotions as Fee had poked and prodded. She’d allowed Fee’s hand on her rear, allowed herself to be tagged with the amber wristband, exhibiting all the signs of being the submissive partner. As Fee pushed her way through the crowd, she found herself wondering idly what it would be like.
Fee’s husband had welcomed Alice and her husband James into their little arrangement, setting everything up for Fee to be able to satisfy her urges with Alice’s muscled slab of mancake. Fee had noticed how Alice watched them as James fucked a woman who wasn’t his wife, the need burning in her eyes even as her man climaxed inside Fee. Alice needed it, like Barton did, but for different reasons. Barton wanted to give Fee something he was unable to, ever since the accident that left him in the wheelchair. But Alice needed it like she needed air, like Fee needed Alice to watch her, feeling the eyes of the woman whose husband she was fucking on her. She had seen Alice, sitting there staring in the dark as Fee rode James to a staggering orgasm. Fee had watched from the corner of her eye as James’ wife fingered herself to her own secondary climax. Alice was so close to acknowledging it, that she needed to be the beta female, but she was deep in denial. To Fee, who had embraced her own submissive side when Barton had taken control early in their marriage, it was plain as day.
Jodie had set the two couples against each other, using the threat of blackmail as a sword suspended above their heads, but the opposite to what she intended had happened instead. Far from setting them at each other’s throats, they had bonded unexpectedly, deeply, forging an alliance against Jodie and her insidious web of miscreants. That was the reason they were here, tonight.
Barton had caught wind of the event at the Lost and Found, mentioning it over breakfast. Fee had given him a little smile, and made a joke about acting up in public, but she had seen his expression and dropped the brat act. He’d seen the event for what it was: the last hurrah for the one place in the entire city that all the people who preferred an alternate lifestyle would gravitate to. From Jodie’s perspective, it would be a goldmine for her operation. It would be too tempting to resist sending someone into the party. A few pictures, a brief snippet of video, and she would have a whole new set of targets for her web of blackmail and coercion.
Barton had made the case over breakfast, but it had been Fee who had suggested bringing Alice and James in, specifically Alice. Regardless of the fact that Barton would be in a wheelchair in the crush of the club, his face was known: one of the city’s top neurosurgeons and also Person of the Year would be spotted. Similarly, James was far too recognisable, only recently retired from professional football. It had to be Fee with Alice as backup, the two women able to move anonymously through the club.
Unless Jodie was here herself, of course. That would blow everything wide open. They had to chance that Jodie would send a pawn into the fray, someone as anonymous as Fee and Alice, able to wander freely. Looking out at the sea of faces, that didn’t make it easy. If Jodie’s spies were here, they could be anywhere. Fee kept moving.
Across the floor, she caught a glimpse of her counterpart doing the same, circling in the opposite direction around the Mad Hatter’s table set in the middle of the space. Alice gave her a look across the room and shook her head. Maybe they weren’t here, Fee thought, maybe Barton was just being paranoid. Then she saw something through the crowd that made her stop.
There was a little space between the end of the bar and the raised stage where a large mirror frame and a weathered leather pommel-horse stood. The pommel-horse was spot lit, ready for the people gathering around it to begin, casting the dead zone into shadow. A girl stood there in an Alice costume, looking up at a man. His back was turned to Fee, but as she advanced, the strange feeling that something was amiss began to grow. It was the girl’s body language that gave it away, the way she was staring up at the man. Then her head drooped, her blonde hair flopping forwards to hide her face. The man gathered her in his arms and began to murmur into her ear. She stood there passively, arms dangling slackly by her sides.
Fee’s heart skipped, and she looked around for Alice. The other woman was nowhere to be seen, and Fee considered briefly whether she should try and find her, but then the man tilted the girl’s head back, staring down into her glazed eyes. Fee had seen that look before, she knew what caused it, the reactions of the person being drugged. Alice had looked the same, back at Fee’s house. James had had the same vacant expression. Now it was happening to someone else, right in front of her, in the middle of a packed club. Fee strode forward, dispensing with backup.
“Hey, you okay?” Fee asked as soon as she was within speaking distance.
The man’s head snapped around towards the intrusion, alarmed. Despite her fears, Fee grinned at him, thinking: gotcha, fucker.
“We’re fine,” the girl replied.
“Sure? I kinda saw you….”
“No, I’m fine, uh, Cam was just….”
Fee hesitated, looking back to the girl again. She was staring back nervously, like she’d just been caught out. The glazed expression was gone.
“Uh, look, sorry,” Fee found herself stammering, “I thought I saw something. I just… you know, girls stick together.”
“I’m fine, really. Just takes me a minute to get my head straight.”
“Mina,” the man cautioned.
Fee’s curiosity got the better of her.
“Straight from what?” she asked.
“Mina,” her companion repeated.
“It’s okay, Cam.”
Mina turned her attention to Fee, smiling bashfully, then explained, “I’ve been Bree all night, and Cam was just switching me back. I think he’d had enough of the nympho bimbo.”
Fee shook her head slowly, muttering, “I have no idea what any of that means.”
“He hypnotises me,” Mina confessed, “And Bree comes out. She’s like, uh, how do I explain? Like my alter ego. I go into a trance and then Bree wakes up.”
“It’s her kink,” Cam interjected, “Well, one of them.”
Fee looked from one to the other, asking, “And you trust him to do that for you? To let him into your head?”
“Uh huh. I trust him completely.”
Fee was silent for a moment, watching them. Clearly, they were playing their own little game. They weren’t the people Fee was looking for, it was a false alarm. But still, it seemed outrageous that they could play like that. Curiosity got the better of her.
“I didn’t even think hypnosis was real,” she said.
“It’s as real as you make it. Cam’s gotten pretty good, plus it works exactly because I trust him.”
“And you like it.”
Mina gave Fee a shy smile.
“Yeah,” she confessed, “He can make me feel almost anything.”
Fee found herself smiling back at the blonde woman in the Alice costume, happy in her own little world with her man.
“Look, hey, sorry for barging in,” Fee replied.
Cam nodded at her, and said, “No problem. Better you said something than just walked by, even if it was innocent.”
Mina nudged him in the ribs.
“When have you been innocent?” she scoffed.
“Good to have you back, Mina. Your other half was wearing me down.”
Fee found herself backing away as the two lovers began to bicker playfully, feeling herself surplus to requirements.
“Have a good night,” she said, then slipped back into the crowd.
They were getting nowhere, Fee thought to herself. There were hundreds of people here, all up to their own little games. Spotting Jodie’s spy amongst them was proving to be like finding the needle in the haystack. She edged around a group of people and found herself in front of the stage. A woman swept past her and ascended the stage, trailed by two couples.
She was dressed as the Duchess, wearing a stiff leather corset that displayed her ample cleavage, constraining her voluptuous curves. A mane of red hair spilled out from beneath a dazzling tiara cocked at a rakish angle on her head, flowing down her back, directing Fee’s eye down the woman’s spine, from the high, stiff leather collar, to the exquisite hook-and-eye arrangement of the corset, and at last to the rounded curve of her well-proportioned bottom in a dark purple dress, flashing wickedly spiked heels. Once she was on stage, she turned, waiting for her entourage to take their positions on either side of her, before raising her voice. Fee noticed that they were all wearing red wristbands.
On stage, the man dressed as the Mad Hatter bowed low to her, announcing, “Mistress Candice is here to dispense her wise justice. You’ve already seen how Mistress Rose deals with unruly submissives. I think we’re in for a treat.”
The Mad Hatter bowed again to Candice and presented her with the microphone. She gave him a saucy wink.
“I do appreciate a man showing the proper respect,” she told him, then turned to face the crowd. “What brings you before my royal majesty tonight?” she called out imperiously.
The man to her left stepped forward and spoke, “Mistress Candice, we have a matter to settle and would request your adjudication.”
He grinned, placing his left hand on the shoulder of the woman next to him. Beneath the stage’s spotlight, Fee caught a gleam of gold on his ring finger. The woman wore a matching ring on her finger. She looked up nervously as her husband spoke.
Both couples were young, in their twenties, the men each smiling while the women eyed each other nervously.
“By all means, please, elucidate.”
The man cleared his throat and raised his voice for the crowd to hear, calling out, “Slave Rachel has been accused of a transgression of the slave code, attesting that she was superior to Slave Farrah. She attempted to put slave Farrah in her place, when only her owner, Master Stark, has that right.”
Candice’s eyes widened in mock consternation. Around Fee, people gasped. Candice turned to the crowd, playing the room with relish.
“Is the court adjourned?” she called out.
There were cries of approval from the audience. Candice turned to the man on the other side of her.
“Master Stark, would you like to call witnesses for the prosecution?” she intoned, gravely, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Stark was the tallest of them, towering over the Duchess and the diminutive, athletic blonde woman standing next to him. Farrah looked up at her Master, waiting for him to speak.
“I would like to give my evidence, yes.”
Candice nodded, “Please, Master Stark, make your case.”
The crowd fell silent, waiting for him to begin. Fee scanned the faces, but all attention was now focused on the pantomime playing out on the stage. Stark drew himself up, dwarfing his beautiful blonde partner, settling a reassuring hand on the wronged slave’s arm.
“My case is simple. Slave Rachel is guilty.”
The crowd roared approval. Candice raised her hands to calm them, then turned to the other couple.
“Master Amon, Master Stark has made quite frankly one of the most airtight cases for the prosecution I’ve ever heard. Is there anything you would like to present to this court in defence of your slave?”
Rachel’s eyes were fixed on her husband’s face, imploring him silently. Fee could detect it in her body language, the way that she needed him to back her up. There was something else here, a bond between them: the petite brunette looking up to her man, trying to tell him something important but seemingly forbidden from speaking on her own account. He reached down to stroke her face and gradually a smile of relief spread across her face.
“Oh, I think she’s guilty too.”
Rachel closed her eyes, accepting her betrayal with a little shiver. Beside her, Candice once again appealed to the crowd.
“Is there any further evidence to be brought before the court?” she called out.
Someone shouted out, “Guilty!” and the crowd roared again in response.
“Then, our judgement is passed. Slave Rachel is guilty of whatever the charge was against her and should be punished appropriately.”
She turned to Amon.
“And what is the punishment? Is it to be off with her head?” Candice asked, a sardonic half-smile on her lips.
Amon grinned at her. “Master Stark and I have decided that a slave match would be more appropriate.”
“A contest? It seems to be a popular pastime on the stage tonight,” Candice echoed, turning to the crowd again before calling out, “And what say you? Do you want to see another slave match?”
A chant began, calling out for the match, as Candice grinned. Finally, she raised her arms for silence.
“Ah, you lucky, insatiable deviants. Then so be it. Slave contest!”
Around Fee, the audience began to whoop and holler. On stage, the demeanour of the two slaves changed, facing off against each other now. Amon and Stark began work on their women, helping them strip naked on the stage. Candice produced a large box and held it up for the men to retrieve leather strips, wrapping them around the ankles, wrists, waists and throats of the two nude combatants. The slaves faced off, their bodies tensed, the silver rings in their restraints glinting in the spotlights.
Candice produced a set of longer straps with snap hooks on each end.
“The first one to achieve full immobility in the other is the winner. You may ask your Master to intervene, but only once, so use it wisely. Are you ready?”
Rachel nodded, her eyes on the lean blonde opposite her. Farrah glared back, tucking the red wristband on her arm beneath the stiff leather cuff. Candice passed each woman a pair of straps.
“Begin.”
Rachel moved first, her body tensing like a spring and then surging forward. She crossed the gap between them in an instant, bringing the end of a strap up to her opponent’s throat. Farrah turned, trying to deflect, but Rachel was too fast, clipping the snap hook into place and then suddenly jerking back out of range. She pulled the strap taut, her eyes flashing, forcing Farrah forward. The blonde was now leashed.
The circled each other, Farrah darting towards her nemesis, trying to get close enough to hook a wrist, but Rachel kept a tight hold on her leash, not allowing Farrah any room to pull back as she dove in under the blonde’s flailing arms to snag her wrist with the other strap.
Quickly, she hopped backwards, pulling on both straps, making Farrah dance like a marionette from the leashes now on her neck and wrist. Rachel spun her around, to the amusement of the audience, grinning. Farrah struggled, waving frantically with her free hand, but Rachel kept herself just out of reach. Rachel was breathing hard now, a soft sheen of moisture on her bare skin, her nipples hard and dark. She was enjoying her domination over her foe.
Farrah’s eyes blazed, turning and feinting but again to no avail. Rachel wrapped both straps around one fist, freeing her other hand to take a fresh strap from Candice. She didn’t attack, though. Instead, they circled each other, Farrah twisting in her grip, fuming at being bested so easily in front of all the onlookers. Her eyes flicked past her brunette opponent to her husband.
“Intervention,” she called out, simultaneously dropping to the floor.
Rachel hadn’t expected this move, and as her attention shifted to Stark advancing on her, Farrah managed to snag a hook on her belt. Stark pressed down on the brunette woman’s shoulders, crushing her to the floor. Rachel grunted in frustration, going down, rolling to the side to escape Stark’s hands.
“That’s all you get,” Candice called out.
Stark stepped back, watching the tussle of the two naked women on the stage in front of him. Rachel tried to push back and regain her feet, but she toppled over, her confusion showing. A strap connected her waist to her ankle, hobbling her in a kneeling position. For the first time, Farrah smiled.
“Think that’s gonna save you?” Rachel snarled, tugging hard on the straps still twined in her first, pulling the blonde woman close.
This time, instead of trying to pull away, Farrah pressed her bare, heaving body against her opponent. The brunette woman was over-balanced as Farrah pushed her backwards, the lithe blonde’s figure gleaming under the spotlights. Fee watched them tussle, the blonde woman stronger, her muscles straining, wrapping her arms around her foe and pinning the brunette woman’s elbows against her waist.
Held in a bear hug, Rachel glared up at Farrah, wriggling ferociously to try and break free. Their naked bodies were running freely with perspiration now, skin slick against skin, a knee sliding between thighs, breasts crammed against breasts. Farrah looked down.
“You nearly had me,” she grinned.
“I still do. I….”
Her response was forestalled as Farrah pressed her mouth to the lips of the woman in her grip, kissing her deeply. The crowd cheered.
Rachel squirmed madly, breaking free at last, shuffling back on her knees, but Farrah followed, pressing her advantage. Rachel’s wrist was now leashed, the strap running behind her back. Farrah was trying to grab the other woman’s free arm, to bend it backwards and lock Rachel’s wrists behind her back. Rachel understood her peril, eyes wide as she flailed and struggled.
“Intervention,” she cried out.
Amon stepped forward, closing his big hand around Farrah’s free arm.
“Gotcha, bitch,” Rachel laughed, trying to bring her hand up to clip a restraining strap to Farrah’s wrist.
Farrah grunted in surprise.
“Too easy, babe,” Rachel gloated.
Amon’s hand shifted, seizing his partner’s wrist instead. Rachel’s body stiffened, her face contorted in outrage at the betrayal. Farrah slid the clip through the ring on her cuff and threw herself backwards, sprawling across the floor, her naked body slick with sweat, her chest heaving. She took a moment to get her breath back, before smiling sweetly at the bound woman in front of her.
“How was it for you, babe?” she laughed.
“Fuck you,” Rachel snapped, “That’s not fair. I was betrayed.”
Farrah casually unhooked the straps attached to her wrist and collar and got to her feet. She approached the kneeling woman, bending down to run a hand through the unkempt mass of her vanquished opponent’s hair.
“Don’t be like that, hon. It’s just a game. No hard feelings?”
Rachel glared up at her. Farrah drew closer, standing astride the helpless woman. Carefully she ran her fingers down her own sweat-slickened torso, over her belly button, down to the space between her legs. Farrah’s outer lips were rosy, dimpling as she pressed her fingertips into herself, exposing her glistening inner sanctum.
“Remember the agreement?” Farrah asked.
“Yeah.”
“So, why don’t you be a good girl? Let’s kiss and make up.”
Rachel didn’t move, her eyes locked on Farrah’s waiting pussy. With excruciating slowness, the bound woman lips parted. Her tongue slid out, burying itself within the warm pink folds of the woman standing over her. Fee watched, transfixed, as the vanquished brunette began to lap obediently at the crotch of her victor. The audience erupted into raucous cheering.
The noise of the crowd broke the spell, and Fee turned away. The act of submission had been perfect, and it had stirred something deep within her. She felt the familiar tingling ache, but suppressed it mercilessly. She had a job to do.
Fee skirted the stage, making her way across the floor to the opposite side. Alice was standing by one of the booths, her attention fixed on someone Fee couldn’t see. Fee felt a twinge of nervousness and pushed through the crowd to her friend.
“Got nothing,” Fee announced, coming up close to Alice, “What about you?”
“Right there. See her?”
Fee followed Alice’s line of sight, trying to identify the person Alice was watching.
“I don’t see.”
“Right there, in the caterpillar costume, standing next to the guy in black.”
Fee scanned the crowd again, then she saw. The girl was lithe, petite, clad in a skin-tight bodysuit of dark green and light green bands. She was wearing a hairband with a pair of feelers sticking up, and a chunky collar around her neck from which dangled a silver cigarette holder on a chain.
“It’s Willow,” Alice hissed.
“You sure?”
“Oh yeah. We got up close and personal. It’s her. Makes perfect sense too, Willow would do anything Jodie told her to do.”
“How do you want to do this?”
“I’m known to her, Fee. If she sees me, we’re cooked.”
“Yeah, okay. You hang back.”
Alice turned to her friend, searching her expression. Fee gave her a grin then cupped the back of Alice’s head and kissed her.
“I’ll run interference and you rescue the guy, okay? Cover me, I’m going in,” Fee said, breaking off the kiss, leaving Alice’s stunned expression behind her as she advanced on the girl in the caterpillar costume.
Fee smiled to herself, happy at provoking that reaction in Alice. She touched her fingers to her lips, relishing the softness of the contact between them. Kissing girls was so very different, she mused. Barton might like to see. She’d only done it for the devilment of it, but the memory of the touch and Alice’s response lingered.
Willow was chatting to the man next to her, and even from a distance, Fee could see the way her body moved as she talked, how her gaze lingered on his face, the way her fingers twirled idly with the cigarette holder. She was putting out strong signals, and her companion was receiving them loud and clear. Fee came to a halt a few steps away from them both, scrutinising her target.
The caterpillar bodysuit left very little to the imagination, stretched tightly over her lean body, leaving no doubt that she was completely naked beneath. The twin points of her nipples stood out pointedly in the green material. She smiled coyly at the man and brought the cigarette holder up to his lips. Her chunky collar gleamed, the light reflecting back from the fake glass jewels set into the black surface. There was one jewel in particular that attracted Fee’s attention, a black glass dome facing directly forward, towards her companion. He bent down to take the proffered cigarette holder’s silver tip.
“Babe, found you, oh fuck, this place is packed,” Fee exclaimed, moving in and stepping between them, wrapping her arms around Willow’s shoulders, trapping the cigarette holder against her bosom.
“What?” Willow mumbled.
Fee turned to the man, saying, “Sorry, been looking for her all night, got a bit of an emergency, can you give us a sec?”
She didn’t wait for a response, turning Willow away into the crowd. She got three or four steps into the press of bodies before Willow managed to extricate herself from Fee’s clutches.
“What the hell?” Willow snapped.
“Yeah, sorry. I just, uh, girls looking out for girls, right. He’s a real prick. You don’t wanna be anywhere near, trust me.”
“I was fine.”
“Yeah, now. But then he offers to take you upstairs into a playroom, and look, uh, maybe the green would have made it all okay in his head.”
Fee pointed down to the green band around Willow’s wrist.
“His definition of free use is not your definition, I guarantee you.”
“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’m fine. Thanks for the warning.”
Willow turned to go back, but the man had disappeared. Fee caught sight of the Two of Hearts leading him away to safety and smiled to herself, noting that they made a good team. Willow frowned in frustration, but Fee caught her by the shoulder, turning her back around. The glass dome on her collar glinted, showing a translucency, cementing Fee’s suspicion of the collar’s true purpose. She grinned at the slight girl.
“Sorry,” Fee said, “I just, uh, let’s back up a little bit. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”
She placed her hands on the other girl’s shoulders, suddenly aware that she was looking down at the petite girl’s face in the thick of the mass of revellers. A shiver passed up her spine.
It didn’t matter whether the cigarette holder was just an ornament, or whether it was coated with the drug. The camera in the collar would have already recorded the man’s face, his surroundings, the fact that he was dressed up to party in a kink club. Even as Alice led him away, it wasn’t to safety. He was already fucked. How many more people had she captured on video? How long had she been roaming the floor? The little lens would have captured everything.
“That’s a pretty collar,” Fee said, making a show of inspecting it. “It must be heavy.”
Willow didn’t respond, but she also didn’t pull away. Fee took a gamble.
“You look like such a good girl,” she said.
There was a flicker in Willow’s eyes, barely there, but enough to tell Fee everything. She stepped closer to the smaller woman, slipping her arms behind her back, letting her breasts press against the green costume.
“Would you like to be a good girl for me?”
Fee craned her neck, bringing her lips close to Willow’s, locking eyes with the slender woman.
“You have a green band on. You got a spare moment?”
Her eyes fell to Willow’s glistening lips. Barton wouldn’t mind; if he were here, he’d be encouraging her. She touched her lips to Willow’s and felt the feather-light softness of her kiss. Willow quivered in her embrace.
It felt strange but also thrilling, to be so intimate with the petite woman in her arms. It was so alien, but her body responded to the touch, her nipples stiffening. Fee continued the kiss, feeling herself begin to slicken, wondering about her strange response to Willow’s body.
It wasn’t the fact that she was kissing a woman that had turned her on. She’d never really been anything more than mildly curious, the teasing of Alice aside. No, it was the way that Willow yielded to her, offering up submission without question. Fee pulled back, breaking the kiss, caressing Willow’s cheek. Willow stared up at her mutely, her eyes wide and questioning.
Fee felt unexpectedly sorry for her. Jodie had trained Willow perfectly, turning her into an obedient slave, training her to submit to and satisfy the needs of whomever Jodie gave her to, man or woman. Willow’s needs had long since been erased and replaced by those of her Mistress. Fee couldn’t blame her for coming into the club and doing her owner’s bidding; all thoughts of revenge, or having the doorman haul her out and strip the collar off her, faded. Instead, Fee came up with a different plan.
“Would you like to please me?” Fee murmured, stroking Willow’s cheek tenderly, “We can go somewhere if you’d like that. Do you?”
Willow looked up at her and then nodded.
“Good girl. What’s your name?”
“Willow.”
“Well, Willow, why don’t you come upstairs with me, okay?”
“Okay. What shall I call you?” Willow asked in a small voice.
Fee smiled fondly at her, feeling a sudden rush of arousal as the exchange of power was completed.
“Mistress,” she said, “You may call me Mistress, Willow.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
The way that Willow said it made Fee quiver. She looked around, searching for Alice, and spotted her in the crowd. Alice was just watching from a distance. Fee looked around some more, trying to work out her next move, then inspiration struck her. They needed somewhere more private.
“Do you want to come with me and check out the playrooms?” Fee asked.
Willow nodded.
“Nice cigarette holder, looks antique,” Fee commented, taking hold of it.
“I guess.”
“Does it work?”
Without waiting for a response, Fee slid the end between Willow’s lips. Startled, Willow paused for a moment before wrapping her lips around the silver tip. So, not drugged after all. Willow sucked daintily, her eyes never leaving Fee’s face.
“Come on,” Fee murmured, taking Willow’s hand and leading her across the floor.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw Alice tracking their movements. Fee squeezed Willow’s hand, her brain working furiously even as she flashed her new companion a sparkling smile. They passed through the large door that led back into the stairway from where they’d entered the club. The large man was still there, processing three new arrivals. Fee frowned at their costumes, unable to work out the theme: a man dressed as The Joker, a woman dressed as Catwoman, and another woman with dirty blonde hair with black lipstick, dressed up in a black Alice costume. They each took red wristbands.
Fee directed her companion to the stairs, and they ascended. The top of the stairs opened out into a corridor with a set of doors running down one side. The first door was closed, but the other three were open. There were people in the hallway and in every room. There were strange noises. Fee frowned: there was no privacy here either.
The first door opened into a room that was decorated in white bathroom tiles. In the corner was a set of shiny steel pipes and shower heads. A hose dangled from one of the taps. There were two men and three women in the room, all of them dripping wet. Fee took a look down the hall, working out her options. Then the noise in the corridor died away abruptly.
Fee turned, following the gaze of the people around her, looking back the direction they had come. The first door had opened and a woman emerged into the hallway. She glanced at Fee for a split second before seeming to dismiss her, but Fee felt it like a physical blow. The woman was blonde, dressed in a latex Alice costume that showed off every inch of her spectacular body. She had a leather strap coiled in one hand and as she moved to the stairs, she tugged on the strap, pulling the most extraordinary creature behind her, leashed and collared.
Like everyone else, Fee found herself staring as Alice led the Queen of Hearts by her leash across the landing and down the stairs. Willow was staring too. The moment seemed frozen in her mind, the innocent girl with the indomitable Queen as her thrall. Then, they were gone.
“We are not in Kansas, anymore,” Fee murmured.
“What, Mistress?”
“Never mind.”
Fee made a decision, pulling Willow into the tiled room. The other occupants were laughing, engrossed in their own conversation, oblivious to the newcomers. From the puddles of water and their general state of undress, they’d been playing hard. Fee blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the tiled room after the relative dark of the corridor, but also, the powerful vision of dominance and submission that she’s just witnessed. It inspired her.
“Ready to play, Willow?” she asked.
“Yes, Mistress, however you want.”
“However?” Fee echoed, “That could be anything?”
“I’m a very good girl, Mistress. Ask me and you’ll see.”
Fee stared back at her, then glanced down at the collar. Fee was fucked too. There would be no way of hiding her face when the recording was played back. Fee levelled her gaze on Willow’s face.
“Show me.”
It felt wrong, as Willow’s fingers brushed over Fee’s hips, it felt dirty in a way she couldn’t describe. Barton had done many things with her, he’d done many things to her, but they’d always been within the little realm that they’d constructed for themselves. The conversation that Barton had broached, about finding her other ways to seek satisfaction, had rocked Fee deeply. She had seen the unspoken hurt in his expression, his acknowledgement of her unmet need. Barton desperately wanted to fill that need in her, an ability he’d lost after the accident put him in a wheelchair. Playing with others had become their surrogate, hiring Alice’s husband as a stand-in through a discreet local advertisment. They hadn’t known why James was performing that role until afterwards, when Jodie’s blackmail scheme was revealed.
The strange thing was: Fee liked Alice. Even when being fucked by Alice’s husband, with Alice as his chaperone and Barton watching, there was a bond between them. Like comrades in arms, they had banded together against Jodie’s schemes, but it was more than that. They enjoyed spending time together outside the fucking, two couples with a shared interest and a shared secret, friends and allies.
Now, Fee had a part to play. As she traced her fingertips over Willow’s costume, circling the little hard points of her nipples, she imagined it was Alice in the skin-tight lycra instead of this young waifish girl. It would be spectacular to have Alice stripped and willing to please. A wild, predatory feeling surged up from out of nowhere and she felt herself slickening at the unbidden mental image. Fee took Willow’s face in her hands and kissed her fiercely.
“Am I making you wet, Willow?” Fee growled.
“Yes.”
“Do you like my costume?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl. Why don’t you take a closer look?”
Fee backed the smaller woman against the tiled wall and then pushed her down to her knees. She was suddenly lost for inspiration, staring down at Willow’s wide eyes. It was one thing to watch girl-on-girl porn with her husband, it was quite another thing in real life. But, she needed to take control, not because of the mission, but because of the sudden fire kindled inside her.
Willow leaned towards Fee’s crotch, kissing the space between her legs, her lips brushing against the trefoil shape stitched over her crotch. Even through the flimsy material, Fee could feel it, and an electric thrill surged up her spine. Fingers explored her crotch, working out her costume.
“Just pull. I don’t mind if you rip it a little.”
Obediently, Willow pulled back the black shape, snapping Fee’s clumsy stitching, exposing Fee’s bare, waxed crotch beneath the bodystocking’s sheer dark material. Tentatively, Willow twisted, tearing a small gap, exposing the pinkness of Fee’s labia to the kneeling woman. Fee stared down at her, unwilling to move, waiting to see what Willow would do next.
Willow nuzzled into her pussy and began to lap against her outer lips, opening her mouth wide, brazenly. Fee felt the soft, firm contact of Willow’s tongue in her most private area and tried to supress a shudder.
“You’ve done this before.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
The words were transmitted as a vibration into Fee’s crotch as the other woman locked her mouth over her pussy. Fee felt Willow’s tongue venture a little deeper inside her, taking its time, exploring her entrance. Fee braced her hands against the tiles, standing over the kneeling submissive, allowing herself to be probed. It felt delicious.
Despite all of her bravado, despite her mocking retorts when she was with her friends, despite everything Barton had made her do, this was new. For the first time, Fee allowed a woman to please her, switching effortlessly from Barton’s obedient, submissive wife to a dominant role over Willow. This was why she understood what Alice was going through as she watched James and Fee fucking in front of her, seeing both sides of the equation: the need to take satisfaction from the gorgeous man’s wonderful cock at the same time as vicariously experiencing Alice’s abject humiliation at surrendering her exclusive rights to her husband’s body. She could feel Alice’s delicious pain at seeing another woman enjoying her husband even as she felt James thrusting into her.
Willow was attentive and expert; her tongue quested deeper into Fee’s entrance, her fingers brushing over Fee’s swelling nub, sending spikes of exquisite pleasure through her.
“I’m gonna need to hose down.”
Fee reached for a showerhead and turned on the water. It felt pleasantly warm, and she turned the spray against her breasts, drenching her front. Rivulets of water ran down her stomach, between her legs, over the face that was pressed tightly against her. Willow broke off, blinking the water from her eyes.
“No, keep going.”
Fee slotted the showerhead into the bracket above them, letting the droplets rain down over their bodies. Immediately, the bodystocking began to stick against her skin, clinging to her curves. Beneath her, Willow’s lycra caterpillar costume turned translucent, exposing the darkened areolae of Willow’s breasts through the thin fabric. Willow pressed her face against Fee’s crotch, sliding her tongue deeply inside the standing woman, and Fee groaned with pleasure.
“Should I strip you?” Fee murmured, all at once taken with the notion of reducing the woman servicing her to a naked toy in the shower.
“If you want, Mistress. Do you want me to?”
“Yes.”
Willow broke off from Fee’s pussy for a moment, and it left a strange, hollow feeling inside her not to have the other woman’s tongue buried within. Willow reached behind her neck and unzipped the costume, working it down her body, pulling her arms out of the sleeves. She peeled away the sodden front, revealing high, petite breasts glistening with water. Fee found herself staring down at Willow’s immaculate body.
Willow wormed the lycra further down, her breasts shining in the light, water spewing in rivulets from her nipples, and Fee suddenly panicked. Willow had worked the costume down to her hips, leaving her upper body with nothing but the thick bejewelled collar around her neck.
“Stop, that’s enough.”
Willow froze, looking up at her controller, waiting. Fee’s mind raced, confronted by the consequences of this strange, alluring creature rendering herself fully bare. Would that mean they would have sex? Would Fee need to tend to Willow in the same way that Willow was tending to her? She struggled with the strange, new feelings of desire and hesitancy. Fee had no idea what to do next.
Willow looked up at her and said, “May I?”
Her hand slipped down her water-slickened torso, dipping beneath the clinging, wet lycra, touching her own crotch. Fee felt a flood of relief, understanding Willow’s expectations. She smiled, relaxing again.
“No.”
Fee bunched her fingers in the kneeling girl’s hair and pressed Willow’s shocked face against Fee’s reddened, sopping labia. Willow opened her lips wide, taking Fee into her mouth. The tongue found her entrance and slid within again. Fee let out a shuddering sigh of pleasure.
There was a small shelf with an array of bottles on it. Fee picked up a bottle of bodywash. Grinning down at the submissive, she popped the top and began to drizzle it over the kneeling woman’s body. Willow let her do it, her eyes never leaving Fee’s even as her tongue worked away tirelessly within her.
“Clean yourself.”
Willow obeyed, rubbing the bodywash in slow circles with both hands, smoothing over her breasts and abdomen until they gleamed with soapy bubbles. Fee realised that she was gaping at the younger woman’s perfect display of her gorgeous body, that Willow understood implicitly what she was doing to Fee with her tongue and also with her display of unquestioned submission. Willow’s tongue shifted, finding Fee’s throbbing clit and there was a fresh surge, a tingling that went down to Fee’s toes. Willow was expertly bringing her to the edge of orgasm.
Fee reached down to Willow’s collar, tugging at it. There was a buckle at the back. Fee worked it loose and then tore the collar away from Willow’s throat, pressing it against the tiled wall even as she pulled the kneeling woman’s face tightly into her crotch, smothering her. Willow’s ministrations increased in intensity, nuzzling between Fee’s folds.
Fee examined the collar, staring into the black jewel in the front. Under the brightness of the room’s lighting, she could see the camera lens within, sealed up. It was a cunning piece of workmanship. Fee smiled down the barrel of the lens.
“Touch yourself,” Fee ordered.
Immediately, Willow’s soapy hand slid down under the folds of the costume. Fee glanced down, watching the way that Willow began to toy with herself. There was a measured cadence to it, as if Willow had been in this position many times before. Fee wondered what Jodie had made her do, to train her so perfectly.
Willow’s other hand came up to Fee’s crotch and Fee felt herself filled by one soapy finger and then a second, stretching her open slightly as they probed her depths. Willow’s lips locked onto Fee’s clit, sucking and licking, bringing Fee to the brink of an extraordinary climax. Skilfully, she held Fee there, suspended on the edge, her fingers stroking inside Fee, grazing that sensitive little spot with a feather-light touch, just not quite enough.
Fee tried to concentrate, looking up from the slick, shining naked body beneath her, back to the collar. Her thoughts were racing on how she was going to destroy it, but every exquisite movement of the woman between her legs stole those thoughts away. She unhooked the showerhead above them and pressed its handle against the lens casing, pushing hard against the tiled wall.
Just then, Willow pulled back. Fee’s heart spiked, fearing that she’d been discovered. She stared down at the kneeling woman, trying to work out her options.
“Please Mistress, may I cum with you?” Willow mewled, her fingers working desperately under her costume, her cheeks flushed with her own impending orgasm.
With a wave of relief, Fee growled, “Do it.”
Willow’s reaction was immediate, pressing the flat of her tongue against Fee’s slit, parting her labia and rasping over her sensitive, swollen nub. The fingertips curled inside her and Fee’s body tensed as a powerful surge of ecstasy washed through her body. There was a high, keening sound, echoing off the tiled, white walls, blending in with the spray of warm water, as Fee crested, rolling into an orgasm that seemed to go on forever.
She was dimly aware that Willow was maintaining it somehow as the moments passed by, with her fingers and her tongue and her lips. Fee contracted powerfully around the fingers inside her, her whole body shuddering in delight, and then incredibly she felt the need and the thrill rising insider her as she climaxed again. She needed to break away from the merciless creature beneath her, she needed to concentrate on what she needed to do, she needed….
“Fuck,” Fee hissed, “Oh… oh shit… oh, fuck. Fuck.”
At that moment, as it became too much to bear, Willow broke away, her head snapping back, her eyes tightly closed. Fee gazed down at her, marvelling at the intensity and the absolute silence of Willow’s own orgasm. Fee leaned forward, crushing her body against the voiceless, shuddering woman, pushing her up against the tiled wall. Willow’s climax seemed unnatural: fiercely intense but without a sound. Fee wondered again just what Jodie had done to her to train her to take her orgasms silently, or even whether Willow was permitted to cum at all. The waiflike figure pressed between her body and the wall was lost in her own world, overwhelmed by being granted this singular pleasure.
Fee kept Willow pinned against the tiles, the showerhead pressed against the collar, grinning at the smaller woman as her cheeks blushed with her post-orgasmic high.
“Was that good for you?” she asked.
“Yeah, uh… yes Mistress. I….”
Fee pressed harder. There was a crackle of glass. The water ran over Willow’s collar into the cracked lens cover. Fee kept her tightly in position, all the while letting the water do its work. Then she relented, stepping away, letting Willow slump down the tiles until she was crouching on the tiled floor. Fee turned the water off.
“You were fun. I’m sorry about your costume, I think I ruined it,” Fee told her, dangling the collar in front of Willow’s face for the other woman to take.
It felt strange and new, the thing she had just done, but she relished it. Barton would need all the details. Willow looked up at her from the floor. The collar was wrecked.
“See you around, Willow,” Fee said.
She turned on her heel and strode out of the room. Back in the corridor, Alice was waiting for her nervously, her arms crossed over the red heart sewn over her chest.
“C’mon, Alice, we’re done.”
“What did you…?”
“Oh, babe, I did, yes. I did everything.”
“What about the camera?”
“It’s toast.”
They descended the stairs together, moving quickly.
“You’re saturated,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, you have no idea. I’m also quite wet from the shower,” Fee laughed, “Did you see?”
Alice stopped at the foot of the stairs, her expression unreadable.
“What’s up Alice? Did I surprise you?”
Alice didn’t reply. It might have been the look in her eyes, or the endorphins from the intensity of the session she’d just experienced with Willow, but Fee was suddenly seized with the need to step close and kiss her softly on the lips.
“James is lovely,” Fee murmured, “But so are you.”
She ran her hands down Alice’s sides, wrapping her arms around the other woman’s waist as she kissed her deeply. Alice didn’t react, stunned into immobility by Fee’s sudden passion. Fee broke off the kiss at last and grinned.
“Let’s get back to the boys then, at some point, we need to have a talk.”
Fee pushed Alice gently to the exit. The huge man with the black rabbit ears opened the bulky steel door for them.
“Goodnight ladies, I hope you had a good evening,” he grinned down at them.
“Oh, the best evening for ages,” Fee gushed.
Alice didn’t respond.
“Come on,” Fee told her, taking her by the hand again and leading her out into the alleyway.
The cold night air hit her like a wall, stripping the heat from her damp body instantly. She began to shiver. Their husbands were still there in the car, waiting, as the two women clicked on their high heels across the alley to them. James lowered his window.
“How’d you go?” he asked, then, “You look soaked through.”
Fee opened the back door and ushered Alice in, sliding in after her.
“All good. Mission accomplished.”
Barton turned in the passenger seat to look at her.
“You’re freezing.”
“Just, let’s get out of here. Let’s go back to our place, then we can debrief.”
“You’re shivering.”
Fee turned her attention to Alice.
“Alice can warm me up. Let’s drive.”
James started the engine and they pulled away, Barton settling back into his seat. Fee was still looking at Alice though.
“I’ll warm you up,” Alice murmured, “Come here.”
Fee hesitated a moment, and then allowed the corners of her mouth to turn up in a little smile. She slid across the back set and Alice wrapped the damp woman’s body in her arms. Fee could feel Alice’s bodyheat as she cuddled against her, and she suddenly felt drained. She closed her eyes, letting her head rest against Alice’s breast, finally allowing the excitement and the tension of the night to wash over her. Her hand flopped into Alice’s lap, and the other woman squirmed.
Yes, Alice’s body felt lovely and warm.
It gave Fee ideas.
—
[A shout out to gbdfa for the idea of the slave contests!
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