High Life: Alice Makes a Change Pt. 08

[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.]

---

SISTERS

We pulled into the car park, down the ramp into the basement level. There was a section against the far wall, and that's where we parked, deep under the mall.

"No phone signal," James observed, "Not down here."

"Yeah."

"I feel like James Bond."

James gave me a sidelong glance. I said nothing.

"This is where you say I look like James Bond."

I didn't rise to the bait, crossing my legs and regretting it immediately as I felt the wire tug.

"Shit," I hissed, shuffling in my seat.

"You should do that at home."

"Like, when? At what point do I get to sit down for more than five minutes without interruptions?" I snapped.

"Okay, Alice. Sorry. Geez."

I smoothed my hands down my skirt, conscious of the little wire dangling between my knees plugged into the car's charging port. I let out a long breath.

"Sorry," I muttered, "That was uncalled for."

"It's okay, Alice."

"No, it's not. It's what she wants."

I recalled Jodie's little barbs, probing the cracks between us, trying to drive in a wedge. Even stood in my transparent latex dress with my hands glued inside the slick black gloves to the drinks tray, turned into a table while I watched women fucking my husband, I'd resolved what I was going to do when I got home. Jodie wanted us to keep secrets from each other, but I'd told him everything, straight away.

James had fumed silently for the rest of the night, still trying to get his head together, clouded by the drugs, and I'd let him be. It took him until the next morning to articulate the words. He'd just looked me in the eyes and told me: no more secrets. Then, I'd raised the hem of my nightie to reveal the belt she'd locked in place, giving him a good look at Jodie's revenge on me.

I stared down at my knees glumly. James reached over and put a hand on one knee, brushing the wire to one side. He gave me a little squeeze.

"I love you," he said.

"Me too. I'm just...."

My voice trailed off and I detached his hand gently.

"That's not helping," I chided, softly, "It's making it worse."

I didn't look up at him, I didn't need to. I knew what he'd do if I did and I really didn't want him to smile at me and tell me it was going to be okay. I needed something else, I'd needed it for weeks, and it was off the menu.

"She's late," I observed.

"Five minutes, give her time."

"I guess I'd better, uh...."

"Yeah. Is it charged enough?"

"I guess so."

I rolled my skirt up, shuffling in the passenger seat until the space between my legs was exposed. The hard, slatted rubber of the belt nestled there, a wretched, unwanted thing, locked in place, sealing me up. Beneath, thanks to something as trivial as my husband's hand on my knee, I could feel myself moistening slightly, the background denial triggered again by his touch. I reached down to tug the end of the charging cord from the little port in the top of the belt, pressing the little rubber plug back into place.

My fingers lingered over the thick rubber, feeling the little vertical grooves cut into it to allow me to go to the toilet, to soak myself clean in the bath, to do all the natural things, save one. I was locked up unable to enjoy my husband sliding into me, the thing that I had taken for granted for all these years. Now, after Jodie had threaded my key onto her necklace, taking control of my sex, it was all I could think about. I found myself daydreaming around the house, snapping back to reality when I felt that single insistent urge, the itch I couldn't scratch.

James had wanted to get the bolt cutters from the shed, but Willow's warning had come back to me then, that a harsher punishment awaited for non-compliance. It hadn't been what Jodie had said, it had been the look in Willow's eyes when she confessed that she'd removed her own belt and had then had her behaviour corrected. I didn't know exactly what she'd meant; all I knew was that I didn't want to ever find out.

So, the belt had become part of our daily routine, an unwanted guest in the family. It had its own needs, throbbing insistently when the little built-in vibrator pad was low on charge, needing to be fed. I had decided out of spite not to acquiesce, but the belt insisted, buzzing periodically, never enough to get me off but just enough to heat me up. I'd managed to hold out for three hours with the belt showing no signs of relenting, before I plugged in the charging cable and gave it what it wanted. I spent the rest of the day with urgent cravings for my husband's manhood and a migraine headache.

The rest of the time, the belt was benign. I could go to the toilet easily enough: the thin slits in the front cup allowed liquids through without being wide enough for me to prise apart to gain access. The back strap was wide and surprisingly comfortable, splitting into a wide ring over my rear entrance to let me go to the toilet as normal. I even found sometimes that I'd gone for hours without thinking about it, as if my body had come to accept the devious constraint upon it that Jodie had imposed.

Jodie didn't mention the belt when we spoke, almost as if it was of no consequence to her. On the occasions I brought it up her answer was always the same: she would unlock me when she was sure we were on the same team. I'd asked her how I could prove that, and she'd merely smiled. I had managed to keep my expression neutral, but I hated her for that. My only solace was that I didn't let her see, I hadn't given her the satisfaction of knowing what her device was doing to me.

"Heads up."

I pulled my skirt down quickly, looking around. Across the car park, a Mercedes had just pulled in. James opened his door and got out. I opened my door too, going around the car to join him. The driver's door of the Mercedes opened and Fee stepped out.

"Here we go," James murmured.

Fee strode across the concrete to us, smiling.

"Hi," she said, "How are you?"

"Same as usual," I grumbled.

"Well, at least no worse."

"I guess."

She came to a halt, smiling breezily.

"So," I continued, "This is very cloak-and-dagger."

"Barton's idea, just in case you're being monitored."

"Monitored?" I snorted, "What?"

"If she put something on your phones."

"She hasn't," I retorted, "I'd have seen."

Fee smiled wryly back at me.

"I could tell, I'm sure," I continued.

"Look, maybe you need another phone. One she doesn't know about. One she never gets access to."

For a moment, I felt an awful, clammy sensation. The phone in my bag, the belt around my crotch, all working against me, monitoring and controlling me, reporting everything back to Jodie. Was the belt only set to vibrate via remote control, or was it listening to the changes in my body? Was it letting Jodie know exactly when I was angry, or sleepy or horny?

"So," Fee said, turning to James, "Did you get it?"

"Yeah," James nodded, "I made a bit of a big deal about the booking, and she gave it to Alice."

We were on our way to an afternoon in an apartment in the next suburb. All that Jodie had told us were their names, Skye and Stacey, and that they wanted my husband for the entire afternoon, as many times as they wanted. Jodie had passed me a little coloured square, wrapped in tissue paper. I fished it out of my handbag and gave it to Fee.

"So, this is the wonder drug?" Fee exclaimed.

"That's it. There's enough soaked on there for James," I told her, "It's by bodyweight."

"Yeah, Barton thought as much."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"He's going to run it by a guy he knows. He's in forensics these days, wants to get a breakdown, see if there are any telltales."

Fee slipped the tissue into her purse.

"It's all pieces of the jigsaw."

"And how's the jigsaw looking?" I asked.

"Incomplete. We need all the pieces, Alice, if we're going to crack this. Barton thinks it's a ring. We need to make sure they get everyone. We can't let even one of these bastards escape, not with everything they have stashed on us all."

She shrugged.

"Barton's talking to people. It's going to take time. We just need one more thing."

"What?"

"I don't know. Neither does he. A catalyst. Something that brings it all together, something the cops can pounce on."

She grinned at us conspiratorially.

"Then we grind these fuckers into the dust."

---

The address was in a newer part of the city, among regimented streets of six-storey apartment blocks, each with a coffee shop and a bakery on every other corner.

"This used to be the pulp mill, back in the day," James observed, "Lumber yards and train tracks. My grandfather used to work here."

"Changed a lot."

"Yeah, and not for the better."

We found a parking spot on the street and made our way though the glass doors of one of the almost identical buildings to the elevators. James punched a button for the sixth floor.

"They probably sold this as a penthouse," James grumbled, "With stunning views across the street at the penthouse opposite."

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm good. It's all good."

"Nervous?"

"Nah."

James watched the numbers counting slowly upwards.

"Look, yeah, maybe. It's a whole afternoon."

I opened my purse and extracted a little pad of tissue paper, unwrapping it carefully. The elevator pinged and the doors opened. We stepped out.

"Nah," James said, looking down at my hand.

"If you need it, you need it."

I looked down too, at the sliver of coloured paper I'd shaved off the sample we'd given to Fee.

"It's not a full dose, but it's enough to...."

"I said no, Alice. Put it away. I can get through this."

He looked up the corridor, then back at me.

"Fuck knows, I need, uh, shit, sorry. I'm sorry Alice, that's not fair on you. I know you're doing your best."

I didn't dare look up at him, concentrating on folding up the little remnant of Jodie's paper and placing it safely back in my purse. I didn't have to say anything. We'd already said it all, cuddled up in bed at night, feeling him spooning my back, feeling his erection pressing against my skin. We'd progressed from hand jobs, to oral, each step a little more humiliating for me, to be only able to pleasure the man I loved that way.

It just wasn't the same. There was release for him, but not that deep sense of connection for me, the moment afterwards where I basked in my afterglow with my husband still inside me, our bodies mated. Now, cuddling just made the unwavering ache in my crotch even worse, the frustration mounting each time. The last time, I'd heard him drift off to sleep afterwards, his arms still around me, and I'd laid awake for an hour, burning for release. I had very quietly cried myself to sleep.

I followed in my husband's wake as he arrived at the door. He knocked.

"Here we go," he breathed.

A young woman opened the door, flashing brown eyes with long lashes, delicate face framed by tumbling dark hair over bare brown shoulders.

"James?" she asked.

"Yes," my husband replied, "And this is Alice."

"Alice. How do you do? Nice to meet you. Please, do come in."

I was taken aback by the young woman's formality, but we followed along behind her as she led us into the apartment. She was barefoot, a dark dress swishing around her knees, glancing back at us with those wide, sensual eyes.

We were brought through to a balcony, where another woman rose from a lounge chair to greet us. She too had the same wide eyes, the same delicate face, dark hair falling over brown shoulders.

"Hello," she said, "I'm Shriya."

"Oh no," the other woman admonished, "I'm sorry, her name is Stacey. I'm Skye."

Skye shot a look at the other woman, who seemed to hesitate.

"Yes, my name is Stacey. Pleased to meet you."

"James," my husband announced, "Alice."

The woman who had identified herself as Stacey frowned, looking at me.

"I'm going to let you talk," I said, "I'll go find a spot somewhere."

Stacey nodded, replying, "Of course, of course. Would you like some refreshments? A little tea perhaps? Ami... uh, Skye, would you see to her?"

Skye tapped me on the arm, indicating that I should follow.

"Let's see what we have for you, come though."

I found myself following behind Skye, leaving James on the balcony in the sun with the other woman. They both sat down on the couch.

"She's a little nervous. She'll need to have a chat before we get started. Let me get you some tea or something, and we can leave them to it for a few moments."

The apartment was open plan, and Skye led us into the kitchen area. I could see my husband through the glass, nodding as Stacey asked him something.

"Darjeeling?"

I turned back to Skye, mumbling, "Uh, yes. Sounds nice."

"I have Earl Grey, or any number of blends."

"No, that's fine."

Skye nodded, setting the kettle to boil and arranging cups on saucers. I watched her work, pulling out a tray, setting the teapot in the middle, spooning the tea leaves.

"You've done this before," I observed.

"The tea?" Skye replied, not looking up, "Or the sex?"

I was shocked at the directness of her tone. She glanced up at me and laughed.

"Yes, I've done the tea a lot. Also, sex. My family is quite progressive."

"Your sister seems less so."

Skye smiled to herself, holding a hand up demurely to hide the curve of her lips.

"Sorry, did I say something?" I enquired.

"Oh, she would love that. You should say that to her."

"Which part? That she's less certain."

"No, the sister part. That's exactly what she needs to hear. Really, that's why we're doing this."

"I don't understand."

"Don't worry about it Alice. It's just that, uh, how can I put this, I've grown up able to date whomever I want, see boys, choose. This isn't for me. I can go onto the apps and find someone."

"This is for your sister, then?"

"She grew up differently. She was betrothed at thirteen, it was all arranged. She's never had this."

"So she's not your sister?"

Skye laughed again, picking up the tray carefully.

"No, she's my Maa."

I looked from Skye's smiling face to the woman sitting with my husband outside, the resemblance striking between the two women.

"She had me very young," Skye continued, "Like I said, it was all arranged."

We joined James and Stacey outside. Skye placed the tea tray on a low table and began to pour, handing the first cup to her mother. I caught myself watching them both. They could easily have been sisters; there was an easy familiarity between them, as Stacey acknowledged the cup from Skye. Part of me regretted that they'd chosen aliases, seeking anonymity. There was an ingrained conservatism about them that was entirely at odds with the reason we were here.

Skye handed the next cup to James, deferring to the man in the gathering, before serving me. I took a sip, waiting for the women to speak.

"So, I was thinking," Skye began, "We just need to be sure of a few things first."

"Shoot," James replied.

"Obviously, we need this to be discreet."

"Of course."

"Also, we need to know that you'll respect boundaries."

Her gaze shifted to me. I felt the need to reply.

"We can negotiate before we get into it," I said, "If there are certain things you had in mind. If you had certain, uh, roles you wanted to explore."

The words felt alien, and there was a part of me that couldn't believe I was saying those things. But, like the two women, I had a fixed interest in laying down the parameters of the engagement, defining what they would be allowed to do with my husband. I was aware that James was watching me carefully.

"For example, if you were interested in certain things, we would have to set that out at the start."

"Certain things?" Stacey echoed.

"Ah, I don't think we'll be requiring that," Skye cut in.

"Wait a minute. I need to know first," Stacey replied, "What are we talking about?"

Skye gave her a little smile, replying, "Oh, she's asking if we want to try blindfolds and gags, or bondage, or spanking. Things like that."

Stacey's eyes widened in shock.

"That's what they're here for," Skye reminded her, "Whatever we want."

"I'm sure I don't want any of those things. Do you?"

Skye laughed, "I'm just saying. Now, you're free to try new things if you want."

"Your Pita would never have done those things," Stacey replied, "The thought of it."

To my surprise, Skye's face softened. When she spoke next, it was in a gentle voice.

"You can, though," she murmured, "You can, for you. He wouldn't but you might, there are so many things to explore. It's a new world now, it's the rest of your life."

She reached out and laid a hand on the other woman's knee.

"I'll go first, how's that? Then you can go after. Okay?"

"Okay."

Skye nodded to her and then turned her attention to me.

"Also, the matter of protection," she said.

"James will wear protection at all times," I assured her.

"Good," Stacey replied, seeming relieved.

Skye placed her cup down on the tray carefully and then stood. She smoothed down her dress, facing James.

"Shall we make a start?" Skye asked.

James set his cup down also and rose to his feet.

"Lead on," he said.

Skye headed back inside. James followed behind, resting his hand on my shoulder momentarily, giving me a little squeeze as he left. I turned my attention back to Stacey.

"You're married, aren't you?" she stated.

"Yes," I replied.

"How long have you been together?"

"Nearly fifteen years."

Stacey nodded to herself.

"Same," she replied.

"Not anymore?"

Stacey drained her cup, setting it down, her fingers playing with the delicate crockery, arranging it carefully.

"No," she said, "Not anymore. I've been superseded."

"Ah."

"Yes, that was my first thought too."

She looked up from the tea tray, settling her gaze on me.

"Do you mind if I ask a question, Alice?"

"No."

Stacey frowned for a moment, entwining her fingers in her lap.

"How do you do it?"

"This?"

"Yes, this. I mean, James, with other women. How do you bear it?"

Her words drove a spike through me, all of a sudden. I had expected to have to cope with something different from this, I hadn't expected these questions from the woman who had hired my husband to fuck her. I began to realise that this was all by Skye's arrangement.

"I love him," I confessed, simply.

"And still you let him sleep with other women."

"No, that's just it. He sleeps with me."

"I see."

"It makes a difference."

"Yes. But, I still can't understand how you can separate this from that. It's so very intimate."

"We manage. We trust each other very much."

"Your relationship must be very strong to have survived this."

"It is. I can honestly say that it'd take, oh, I don't know, an asteroid strike to separate us at this point."

Stacey lapsed into silence, looking down at her hands, her face softening. I didn't want to pry, but I could see that thoughts were racing through her head.

"I wish," she muttered, breaking the silence at last, "I wish I'd had that."

Stacey shrugged, frowning again.

"This is the idea. What is that awful phrase? Getting back on the horse," Stacey laughed to herself, "I can't abide horses."

Her gaze flicked up to me suddenly.

"This just feels very disrespectful, Alice. We have done you a disservice, taking your husband away from you."

In another room, I was certain that James was naked now. He would be working his way down Skye's body, fully erect. He'd slip inside her soon, powering away until he'd brought her to orgasm, like he did with me. At least, like he used to do with me, before the belt, I thought bitterly.