High Life: Where Angels Dare

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.