Angel, Demons Pt. 06

The girl panted, her eyes were glazed over, her face a glowing mess.

"Do you know what it means?" the woman asked. "Surrender?"

The girl's gaze focused. She slowly nodded; then shook her head left and right. It made the woman chuckle.

"Yes," she said, "that is exactly right. You don't know and yet you know. By now you know, don't you?" She pressed the face against her cunt again.

"To surrender is usually seen as giving up, darling slut," she resumed. "But passing this stage is so much more.

"You may make me come now, please, honey."

Again, the command was like a mere suggestion. The girl speeded up her tongue's fucking, adding two fingers to rub the slippery clit.

The woman's hands clawed into her hair, breathing hard now. The building orgasm started interrupting the flow of her words.

"You can... you can only pass this stage, little whore... if you make surrendering a life style. Do you... understand? Ah, god, yes, yes...

"You see... you don't just leave everything... you once valued behind... you embrace the wonderful fact... that you did.

"God, make me come, slut... make me cummm..."

And the girl did.

Her expert fingers and tongue fucked her mistress into a shattering climax. It went on and on, causing the woman to almost suffocate the girl with the hot flesh of her thighs and belly.

When she came out of her orgasm, she noticed how the girl had gone limp. She hurried to pull her mouth free before she might suffocate. The girl gasped and spluttered, spraying a rain of juice and saliva around her.

Much of it landed on the woman's spotless leather boots.

"S-sorry, Mistress," she stammered. "I'm so sorry."

The woman pulled her up, panting as hard as the girl. She hugged her and kissed her deeply.

"No need, darling," she mumbled after separating. "No need. I'm sure you'll clean them marvelously."

***

A friend, outraged.

"I don't know you."

"No, you don't," the pale woman with the black, straight bob agreed. "But I know you."

She looked the woman over, while they crossed the entrance hall of the club's building. So, she was the girl's best friend. Once again, she wondered why so many attractive women go out of their way to look dull.

Everything about the woman cried out not to look at her.

Her hair was... well, hair - in a faux brunette kind of way. Unkind people might call it mousy. Her skin was nice, even with the pink blotches of agitation rising from her collar. Her eyes could be beautiful if she'd ever dare to accentuate them - and use them properly.

She sure had a sensual mouth, but right then it was drawn into a thin, bitter line.

Her purple blouse must have been last season's trend - or was it the season before? Anyway, when it reached the off-the-rack shops it must finally have looked safe enough for her to wear it - buttoned up and wide enough to disguise whatever statement her chest would make. The navy-blue skirt might have been gorgeous had it been shorter - and quite a bit tighter too.

Damn, some women would kill for legs like hers and all she did was hide them.

The woman with the black bob reprimanded herself. Judging women by the way they dressed had become second nature - it was a very shallow thing to do. Especially since right now she had way more important things to consider.

"I'm not here to see you," the mousy-haired woman said. "I'm here because my girlfriend called me.

"Where is she?"

The visiting woman moved nervously as she talked, her eyes taking in the posh marble of the hall. There was impatience in her mannerism, but it hardly covered her discomfort. Although she'd never visited before, she already seemed to hate the place, and she obviously hated having to be there even more.

"Just follow me," the pale woman said. "She's looking out for you, you know.

"She told me a lot about you."

The woman in the purple blouse stopped at the center of the hall. Her face looked determined. When the girl had called her, she'd sounded... strange.

The last time they met, she'd been a nervous wreck. As a good friend should, she'd tried to carefully confront her with all these crazy rumors - and advised her on what to do. She hadn't seen or heard from her ever since.

And now this phone call.

"Do you love her?"

The pale woman's sudden question shook her out of her thoughts. "Or let's say, do you care for her?"

Yes, she thought, I do love her, but why tell this woman? What's love to her? Nothing but dirty, perverted things, no doubt.

Irritation overwhelmed her.

"What is it to you if I do?" she asked. "I've known her since we were kids.

"I sure know her better than you ever will."

The black-haired woman just smiled, standing elegantly on her impossible heels. She went on, her face flushed with anger.

"I'm here for only one thing: to get her out of here. Take me to her, now, or I'll leave and find other ways to get her out!

"Ways you won't like."

She moved, but the woman's hand touched her arm, irritating her further.

"Don't you touch me!" she hissed. The woman brought up both hands in apology.

"Sorry," she said, smiling. "But I'm not sure that your leaving would be in her best interest."

"Are you blackmailing me with her safety?"

The pale woman smiled.

"Wow," she chuckled. "Big words, honey. Why don't you just listen before you get all angry?"

The woman in the purple blouse looked around the shining hall once again, at loss at what to say next. Then her eyes returned to the woman across from her.

"What do you want from me?" she said. "Why me, anyway?"

"Now those are good questions," the pale woman answered.

She looked almost businesslike in her dark gray, pinstriped jacket and skirt. The severe black bob of her hair went well with the look, but there was just a bit too much cleavage to be entirely professional. Her heels were too high as well - and her lipstick too dramatically dark against her pale complexion.

In her eyes she must look like a high-end slut, she mused.

"You see, darling friend," she went on, softly, "You're not at all important to me, but you are to her and that is why you're here.

"She called you for a reason. She needs you to help her become who she really is."

The brunette shook her head in confusion. Then she looked up, her eyes narrowing.

"What did you do to her?" she said.

The woman in the almost-businesslike outfit pouted her lips in mock disappointment.

"Why would you assume I 'do' things to her?" she said. "You make me sound awful."

The other woman guffawed.

"What do you expect?" she said. "After months of not seeing her I accidentally meet her and she is a wreck! She breaks down sobbing, hardly able to tell me what is going on. Then she admits to disgusting, drunken escapades - with you. She agrees to stop drinking and repair the damage she caused. And then she disappears again.

"You keep her prisoner?"

The black-haired woman laughed out loud.

"Prisoner?" she said, still chuckling. "Oh god, honey, you have no idea. The sweet girl was never as free as she is right now."

"Where is she?"

"Patience, darling. You'll meet her soon enough."

"If you've harmed her, I'll kill you!"

The pale woman stopped chuckling at once. Her black eyebrows knitted, darkening her gaze. She reached out and grabbed the woman's shoulders, pushing her face into hers.

"Never ever assume that!" she hissed. "I'd never harm her. I love her and if you love her too, today is your chance to prove it.

"Do you understand?"

Fear flared in the other woman's eyes. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

"Don't," she said. "Don't touch me."

The pale woman let go of her. She rose and stood straight, covering her anger.

"The girl is mine," she stated. "Only because she wants to be mine. She needs to be, you know? No, I guess you don't.

"You may think you know her, but you really are clueless."

"I've known her all my life; what are you talking about?" the woman protested. "We've been friends since grade school." She looked defiantly. "Now you tell me you know her better?"

"Yes, I do," the pale woman said. "She is someone you've never seen."

The woman in purple huffed at that, shrugging and looking away.

"I'll show you who she really is," the woman with the severe black bob almost whispered. "If you'll please follow me."

The woman hesitated - then she did.

***

A friend, corrupted.

The woman was surprised by the monumental entrance to the apartment.

She was also impressed by its luscious hall. But she was really shocked when she discovered the metal cage in the ornate bay-windowed room - and saw who was in it.

Her friend lay propped up by pillows in a corner, stark naked.

She carried a wide, studded collar around her neck. The nipple of one breast was pierced; a silver pendant swung from it, giving off an emerald sparkle. The most shocking sight however, was the abundant splattering of grayish slime on her face, throat and chest.

The woman's sharp intake of breath made the girl look up.

A very slow smile crept over her face. "Sweetie," she murmured lazily. "Swee-tie!" Then the first finger of her right hand commenced to collect some of the slime off her breast, shoving it into her mouth. Her lips softly smacked before her gaze returned to the visitors, meeting the pale woman's eyes.

"Mistress," she said. She scrambled to a kneeling position. Lowering her face to the floor, she stuck up her ass.

The other woman just stood looking on - wordlessly.

She watched her lifelong friend crouch on the floor, imprisoned in a cage. She was kneeling in submission, sticking up her naked ass, calling the woman 'mistress.' It was so far removed from anything she might have expected, that she had nothing to say - nothing even to think.

Keeping a naked woman in a cage wasn't something she'd ever accept; its barbaric baseness tugged at her insides.

It twisted the muscles of her underbelly - not unlike fear of heights tightens your crotch when you stare down the edge of a tall building. She could not look, but neither could she look away. Her lips moved, but there were no words. Her hands tightened into fists and then relaxed only to tighten again.

It was all she did for minutes.

Then she felt hands on her shoulders and a voice breathing into the shell of her ear.

"Come," it said, and the hands maneuvered her over to a chair, gently pushing her into it.

"You see now who she is?" the voice whispered. "It's who she really is and always has been.

"Admit you didn't know her; admit you never did."

"Let her go," the woman said at long last, her whisper thick with emotion. "Let her go."

The voice in her ear chuckled.

"You let her go, honey," it said out loud. The hands left her shoulders after pushing her forward. "Go, set her free if you believe she wants to."

The seated woman hesitated as she watched the girl rubbing the slimy goo into her skin, making her breasts shine. Then she rose from her chair and walked to the cage. Its bars felt cold against her sweaty palms.

The door yielded to her touch; it wasn't locked.

"It's never been locked, you know," the pale woman said from behind her. "There was no need." The metal door slightly creaked on its hinges.

She shuddered as she watched her friend lick her fingers with gusto, writhing her body on the soiled rubber sheet as she sighed. Then the fingers traveled down her oiled skin and disappeared between the wet, shining lips of her shaven vagina.

The girl moaned her friend's name, begging her to come closer.

The woman looked on, disgusted, maybe, but captured and helpless. Her hands rose in front of her, as if to ward off what she saw - as if to protect herself against the images flooding her mind; incredible images of obscenity.

A hand once more touched her shoulder; she knew it would register the trembling of her frame.

"Oh nooo, darling," the awful woman's syrupy voice whispered. "You're shaking. Mmmm... for a decent woman, you have such a dirty mind."

The brunette shook her shoulder to escape the touch. She turned, but saw she was stuck between the cage and the woman who stood, chuckling.

"No, honey," she said. "Don't think of leaving, please. Your friend needs you; you can't let her down now, can you?

"Come, darling."

The woman knew she was trapped.

Not so much by iron bars or the sickening things she'd seen; not by the penetrating set of green eyes or the numbing smell of sex, but by her own shock-stiffened body. Her eyes were like imprisoned birds in the cage of her skull. Wherever they flew, there was no escape.

Whatever they saw, there was no way to close her eyelids.

She watched in horror as her lifelong friend crawled towards her - her body naked, her face smiling a sick, sweet smile. The mocking voice once more crept into the shell of her ear, lisping its honey dripping horror. She felt hands on both shoulders, breathing the sweetness of perfume.

"Isn't she amazing, honey? Look at her."

The hands started massaging her through the fabric of her blouse. She started, but couldn't move. And the voice went on.

"She loves you, you know?" it said. "She's always wanted you, remember? It hurt her how you turned her down.

"That was cruel, sweetheart, really cruel. You might have saved her."

The hands went on, hypnotizing her mind through the cravings of her body. Cravings she'd never given into. She closed her eyes, feeling herself slip into a dreamlike state. Heat radiated from the kneading fingers, relaxing her muscles. She sighed, drifting off into the bizarre kaleidoscope of sounds, smells and sensations.

She felt hands caressing her nylon-covered calves, moving upward, taking her skirt's hem with them. She tried to block the feeling of hands fondling her inner thighs, but her attention was diverted to the other hands now slipping into her unbuttoned blouse, caressing her breasts through her bra; slipping inside, touching her bare flesh.

Oh, god... too many feelings, an overdose of sensations.

Her panic was like a scurrying little animal now, racing up and down her body to stop whatever predators invaded her... sweet, sweet insidious invaders, entirely too many, entirely too... oh, god...

A tongue touched her exposed vagina; hands cupped her ass cheeks. Other fingers fondled her nipples; lips sucked at the skin of her throat and the treacherous little hollow behind her ear.

She was lost as waves of heat engulfed her body, radiating from her crotch and from the glowing tips of her nipples. There were waves of nausea too. Waves of shame and disgust sent bitter spasms of vomit up her throat.

It shook her out of her spell.

"No!" she cried out, her voice thick with panic. "Stop this, please stop this." But it didn't stop. The fingers kept plunging, lips sucking on her clitoris, other lips finding her screaming nipples. It went on and on, building, building.

"No!" she cried out again. "NO!!"

She opened her eyes and when she did, she was assaulted by what she saw. The girl, her lifelong friend, was on her knees before her, looking straight at her while her tongue and fingers prodded her vagina - eyes glazed over, lost entirely into pleasuring her.

Her knees went liquid; the only things holding her up were the hands on her tits of the woman who fondled her.

"Yes," the voice hissed in her ear. "Yes, honey. Look at her. She loves to give you pleasure - see?

"Did you ever see her happier?"

Fingers tweaked her nipple, making her gasp.

Paralyzed and open-mouthed, she hung in the pale woman's arms, watching her best friend doing unspeakable things to her. The friend she went to school with; who shared every secret with her; the friend she trusted...

She could have saved her, the woman said. But it was a lie... it was all a lie... Something snapped and she started to struggle in the embrace.

"Let me go, you're a monster!" she cried out, pushing off the arms and closing her blouse with shaking fingers. She yanked at her skirt, tears running down her face. "You'll hear from this. You, you can't do this to her. Or to me. You can't!

"You just... can't!"

She turned and walked briskly to the door. When she reached it, a voice stopped her - a tiny voice, hoarse from exhaustion.

"Sweetie. Sweetie, please."

She turned.

The voice was her friend's. Crouching on the floor, she touched her mouth, her face set in a halo of messed-up hair. She smiled lazily and sucked on her fingers.

Then she smacked her lips and said:

"Please understand, sweetie. No one is forcing me. This is who I am. Please accept my happiness; I need this - I always needed to be like this.

"And I would so much love to share it with you."

Her smile had turned hesitant.

"Please don't accuse my mistress," she went on. "She just guided me to become who I really am. I need this, sweetie. Don't spoil it. Please understand." Her fingers reached back for her flowing slit, slipping in.

She closed her eyes, sighing.

The woman in the awkwardly buttoned-up blouse stood frozen. Then she took a few steps forward. She sank to her knees.

There were tears on her cheeks.

"Darling," she said, her voice choking. "Tell me what happened.

"What did she do to you?"

The girl shook her head and rose to her knees, crawling to the woman. Her fingers curled around her friend's face.

"Sweetie," she said. "Mistress owns me. I'll be her property soon and I yearn to be that. Do you understand?

"It's not because she forces me. I'm hers, because I want to be - I need to be.

"I've learned that it is the only way I can survive."

She reached for the door of the cage, moving it open and closed.

"You see? It's open. I'm not locked up; I am free to go."

"Then go!" her friend said, grabbing the girl's shoulders. "Come with me!" But the girl shook her head again.

"You don't understand," she said softly. "I told you this is where I belong. This is where I feel safe, happy. No demons here, sweetie.

"Remember my demons? I know you never believed they existed, not really, but they did. They tortured me, driving me crazy.

"But there are no ghosts of the past in here, no nightmares or impossible demands. The cage keeps them out. There's just me and my mistress; and all the lovely cocks and cunts she allows me to service."

Her friend shook herself free from the caressing hands and the soft-spoken voice. Her face was a battlefield of emotions. Then she rose and turned towards the pale, black-haired woman.

"You brainwashed her," she said, not even trying to make it sound like a question. "Did you drug her too? Is that it?"

The pale woman just stared at her, shaking her head.

"What did you do to her?" she went on. "You destroyed her mind."

Now the woman shrugged.

"Whatever, darling," she said. "It's not true, but I don't care what you think of me. You're only here so my girl can perform in front of you. It is part of her training.

"Today she'll pass another stage..."

Her voice was interrupted by a squeal from the girl in the cage. When they looked her way, they saw her beaming face.

The pale woman smiled as she proceeded.

"We're on a journey, you know? She passed many stages; soon she'll reach the one that will set her free - the one that will help her finally find happiness.

"She invested in this, darling. She invested fear and pain and an ocean of tears.

"Would you deny her to reach her goal?"

The woman with the mousy hair had stopped listening.

She closed her ears with both hands, shaking her head in denial. Her lips uttered inaudible words. Then she dropped her hands and raised her tear-streaked, angry face.