Actions

Work Header

Testing the depths

Chapter Text

Lena spun in her chair amidst the studio apartment, pencil pinched between upper lip and nose. Cream white walls raced by her vision. Elbows pointed up as she cupped the back of her head, reflecting on events of the past month, a blur in her cognizance. Cumbersome weight over lean shoulders lifted of recent, no longer alone in her suffering. Circumstances unalike but the shared experience and coping mechanic helped. A bit.

For the first time in many years, she felt the tug of attraction stemmed not from pure lust. Lena felt an unceremonious twitch in between her legs, sensitive nub of tissue brushing against the fabric. Hand slid down and readjusted the waistband of both underwear and tracksuit pants. It did little to ease the sensation. Lips curled inward, coating both rows of her teeth and gummed. Pencil fell into her lap.

Day after day since the birthday party she had dropped by the wealthy former dominatrix’s manor, the intent at first to relieve herself of the stress and guilt of her past. It helped, it really did. A reminder that the past to be remembered, not to be lingered upon. The routine largely unchanged, enter the home, greet the now surprisingly sympathetic woman with a bright beam and taunt her before the bout.

Step into the ring, get battered and bruised by the absurdly skilled character. Her only victory had been a brief triumph with an underhanded tactic, they had been cautious ever since. Amélie like a graceful swan evaded her assault with ease, retaliating with surgical precision.

At first, frustrated by the multiple defeats, Lena managed to find solace in the arms of vulnerability. Exactly what she needed.

But life, never simple threw another obstacle in her path. She discovered a growing enamour for the lavender skinned former dominatrix, often losing an hour of her day to lascivious daydreams. Here, years of inexperience emerged to stymie her honesty.

Heck, even their bouts affected by the feelings of late. More than once Lena had intentionally thrown a sloppy kick, only for it to be caught and her other foot to be subsequently swept out from underneath. That was only the beginning, it gave her an excuse to wrap her toned legs around the woman’s waist, occasionally grinding in lieu of bucking her hips in faux escape attempt whilst deflecting blows aimed at her face.

Heavy sigh escaped, shoulders dropped, Lena glanced at the clock in the bottom right of her personal computer. 1:23PM. Still a bit more than half an hour till her arrival. Yes, Amélie Lacroix planned to visit, her idea to break the monotony of the day in day out sparring sessions. The former dominatrix suggested something that didn’t involve strenuous physical activity, much to the pilot’s dismay. Fingers came to rest on top of the Ashwood desk, drumming lightly against.

Her crotch ached as a wave of heat reminded the unsolved subject matter. She fidgeted, tingles from the solar plexus extended to her fingertips… Fuck it. Lena grasped the high-tech gaming mouse, shaking it side to side to wake her desktop, double-tapped the chrome symbol navigating to google and…hesitated.

Pursing her lips. Both hands rested on top of the RGB mechanical keyboard, ring finger tapped the top of the a key. She winced, caving to her base desires. Tapping into the search engine, French dominatrix. A list of suggested searches appeared, she scrolled down, puzzled by the results.

Hrmmm….This one seems interesting.” Truthfully her curiosity of recent about the activities of a dominatrix ignited by the recent discovery of Amélie’s and Fareeha’s former and current occupation respectively. A list of links appeared, she clicked the first.

Her eyes widened, recoiling away from the screen with a slight bounce. Shocked, “Holy shit!” A gorgeous ginger garbed in form fitting dark leather corset and shiny spandex pants that accentuated her rear towered over a near moon pale naked female with only a thin choker collar attached to a leash equipped in the former’s hand.

Their gaze submissive, staring up at with underlying lust. The naked woman quivered, nearly doubling over as their seven-inch heels brushed against her crotch, peppering the smooth leg with kisses as they worshipped the limb.

“Blimey…She’s throwing a wobbly at that…! Is this what Angie’s into!?” Spluttering in disbelief, mind wandered to the interracial couple. Then her mind drifted further….

Her imagination sparked in front of her hazel eyes, Amélie’s expression twisted into a leer their warm golden amber eyes betrayed the aesthetic however, gloved hands gripped the base of her skull and held firm against her crotch. Yes….Yesyesyes.

Moisture in her crotch, it leaked like a leaky faucet down her inner thighs. Holy shit

Lena glanced about the apartment before scrambling over to a window and double checked. Coast clear, she shut the blinds and slid into the swivel chair. Exactly thirty minutes left, with a reassured nod, dominant hand dived underneath her pants.

What followed, a wave of guilt subsequently perished by the eyelid flickering, mind numbing and toe-curling pleasure. Sweat moistened the shirt on her back until it stuck to her flesh like a tissue, heat flushed throughout her pants. The air, dry yet intoxicatingly essential, body quivered stiffening in the process, both feet lifted onto their tippy toes shakily before curling, doe-eyes rolling upward behind the flickering lids as laboured pants sucked desperately. Free hand falling to the side, unresponsive whilst a drunk grin drew on her cheeks. Skin on fire. The taboo theme seemed to only heighten the experience, the bliss lasted for a few short minutes until the screen flicked off.

Unlike the screen, her brain switched back on, cheeks flushed abruptly wracked with embarrassment at first. Lena sat up and cleared her throat, checking her surroundings again. Still alone, good. She slid back in the seat and leaned forward to stand.

Putty legs, eyelashes fluttered thrice. Dumbfounded by the fact she had collapsed to the floor, grasping the edge of the desk with her clean hand and hoisted herself up. Stumbling side to side, her actions sluggish. Lena piloted her way to the bathroom in the alien body, desperate to shower and freshen up.

……………………………………………………………

Knock Knock!

“Who is it?!” Lena poked her head through the shower curtains suspiciously and called out, the water battered her back like weak rubber bullets.

“It’s me, Lena!” The thick French accent rang back, mellow.

Startled, wobbling a little, she grasped onto the wall to steady herself, “O..Oh come in!”

Door squeaked open. Clack of heels on Ashwood floor audible through the patter of water, Lena retreated to her task and scrubbed at herself with the loofah, maybe it was for the best that they had agreed to something less strenuous. Thighs still frail and sore from earlier, perhaps the fatigue from the past week caught up.

A quiet tap initiated on the door from the other side, Lena whirled to the source of the noise. She called out, “Y..Yeah?”

“Is it fine to park on the road beside your place?” They queried with cold curiosity, Lena felt herself shudder under the warm shower. How could one’s voice be so devoid of warmth? A mystery to the pilot.

“Mhm! It’s not metered, you’ll be fine!”

Few seconds passed by before Amélie replied, “Ah, okay. Thank you.”

Lena returned to scrubbing for a before she grasped the bar of Pears Amber, hints of pine, mint and medicinal herbs. Beginning from the neck and worked her way down, a sense of haste urged forth her activities.

“Lena, do you mind if I check my emails while I wait?”

Distracted, focused on lathering up she called back. “Huh? Sure thing, I’ll be just a minute!” Washing off the soapy liquid under the stream, satisfied the pilot twisted the knobs off. Lena stepped out and grasped the fluffy white towel from its ring and wiped off, until every nook and cranny felt clean like a whistle.

A tune escaped from her lips striding forward cheerfully before she realised. No clothes or underwear, “Oh drat…I forgot to bring them in…A.. Amélie? C..Can you toss in some undies and clothes?”

“Hrm? Oh….Of course.” Voice called back, a hint of amusement and…oddity spiked in her tone. Something Lena couldn’t quite recognise, virtually playful. “Where are—Never mind!”

Barely a minute later, the door parted, and a lilac hand thrust in, clothes balled up in a heap. Lena plucked the pieces of clothing from, plain white briefs, orange nylon tights and dark crop top. A frown graced her features, she disliked wearing crop tops. Grasping the handle of the door and twisted, yanking the door open and stepped through. Focused on adjusting the waistband, rising as she addressed her guest. “Sorry about the wait, just let me change out of thi-“

Lena stopped dead in her tracks, an icy chill crept over her, it numbed her brain. Dumbfounded by the vision in front, Amélie Lacroix sat back in her chair, ballerina legs crossed as she rested her heel ontop of the desk, peering at the bright screen with mild curiosity by the nonchalant woman’s standards. 

Beautiful deep berry locks flicked in the air as they turned to the dumbstruck pilot, a faint smile beautified the chiselled jawline. Pointing with the index finger at the screen and quirked her brow.

She had forgotten to turn off the browser!

“W-W-W-What are y-y-you doing..?!” Lena yelped, shrill. She cleared her throat and swallowed, hazel irises flicking between the screen and the casual female.

Response even, unphased by the video playing. “Trying to check my emails…” Trailed off, they glanced back at the screen, fixated on the ginger. A flicker of annoyance embellished “So, you like Maitresse Tryss…Interesting.”

“Maite—Who? Oh—NO WAIT! You misunderstand Amélie!” Lena tripped over her words, rushing over to the desktop and knocked the feet off the table. The quiet yelp did little to halt her, hand darting all over the place for the mouse. In her haste, she knocked it off the table, chasing after her head collided with the USB DAC plugged into her computer tower. The audio defaulted to her speakers,

Their voices blasted from, “OHH! OHH, YES.. HARDER MAITRESS—” SMACK SMACK SMACK

Shut up! Silly pet…I did not give you permissi—” The audio cut off as the browser tab closed.

Lena’s eyes wide, panting as she slammed both hands onto the desk. Horrified. Dared not to face the female behind as choked noises escaped from.

Amélie failed to hold back her laughter, in hysterics as she half hiccupped, and half sniggered.

Cheeks deepening into a shade of crimson. Lena darted to the side, towards their bed and leapt face first into it. Throwing the blankets over her head and huddled up into a burrito, hiding from the world.

The former dominatrix’s suppressed laughter continuously rang throughout the apartment, their apologies muffled and empty to the mortified pilot whom attempted to curl into and fold herself into a human tennis ball.

……………………………………………………

“Come on Lena, it’s not that bad...Everyone watches…porn.” Amélie cooed as they cruised down the avenue in her affluent sable sports car.

Lena refused to budge an inch, arms crossed tightly over her chest and head turned away, staring out at the passing trees, buildings and lamp posts.

It had taken an immense amount of coaxing from the former ballerina and dominatrix for her to leave the blanket burrito she had wrapped herself in. To add to it, Amélie had to guide her out of the studio apartment from behind. She had refused to even meet their gaze since, remaining a mute throughout the entire trip.

“You’re going to have to say something sooner or later, dear. Unless you want me to pick the…Activity.” Amélie finished huskily, focal point on the road ahead. Lena snapped onto the side of their head with a glower.

“Something where we don’t have to talk or see each other!” Lena sulked, a quiet Hmph departed from as their crossed arms rose in the air and bounced back below their rib.

A silence settled between, slightly unnerved by it. Daring to steal a glance at, her hazelnut irises met the disconcerting golden honeyed. Soft yelp escaped from, opting to retreat from eye contact to the window and stare at the scenery again.

From the corner of Lena’s vision, she could make out the growing simper on Amélie’s mien.

“The movies then.” Amélie announced, the engine growled, accelerating onward.

Chapter Text

Nearly half an hour passed by in the vehicle, Lena began to wonder where they were, the mall shouldn’t have been less than fifteen minutes from her place, yet they were still driving. Her imagination wandered, still upset from earlier and thus refused to speak anything more than necessary to Amélie.

“You’re not kidnapping me are ya?” Lena muttered out loud, earning her coy glance. “The mall’s only fifteen minutes from my place and here we are, on the freeway!”

“Now why would I want to do that? Dear Lena?” Amélie’s voice matched the expression, “Afraid that I’ll sneak you into a dungeon.”

Lena began the reply but cut off mid-way, spluttering. “I dunno! You’re pretty obsessi—PFFTHKLGRHPM! That’s it! I’m not talking to you anymore!” Her pout returned, brows furrowing together.

“If you keep frowning like that, you will have early wrinkles.”

“Hmph!”

The lilac shoulders shrugged a centimetre upward, their expression aloof. Amélie commented idly, “Oh well…I suppose it will make this kidnapping all the easier…”

“HA! I KNEW—Wait what?” Lena felt a surge of accomplishment, whirling onto before double-taking as her jaw went slack.

Honeyed eyes stole a mischievous glance at her gobsmacked mien. “Kidding. We are headed to Westfield, the Vue cinemas are nicer.”

“O..Oh. Okay.” Lena finished, settling back into the comfy black leather seat. Fidgeting with their foot. “Soo….What are we watching?”

“I am unsure to what is available over there. You pick.”

Lena searched in jacket pockets for her phone, empty. Of course…She had been too busy sulking to remember it.

“Something the matter?” Amélie inquired

“….I forgot my phone” Lena’s voice, tight.

A device appeared from the right, pinched between the French woman’s index and thumb. Indicating for her to use it.

“Oh…” She turned to stare at them.

“What now?”

“Password?” Lena rolled her eyes, shaking her head. As she rotated the phone in the air, expectant.

“Don’t have one.”

Spluttering in disbelief, “HUH? What about your security?!”

“Nothing important on there, I’ve stopped practicing.”

Lena’s expression pinched together, bepuzzled at first. “Practicing? What has that to do with anything?

“As a dominatrix, I was quite privy to many secrets. Some…Quite sensitive. Now that I’ve stopped and with a new device, I simply have no need to worry about these matters.”

“Oh…”

And that was the rest of their car ride. Silence.

………………………………………………………

Gazed around in wonderment, the sheer difference between the two cinemas were astronomical. The refreshment counter alone had nearly every single savoury and sweet treat to be found in her local supermarket.

And they were passing it by without reason!

Lena’s head snapped back and forth between the gorgeous French woman and the packed counter. Bouncing up and down like she was being dribbled by an unknown force. She felt panic rising in her chest as they strayed further.

“Lena would you like snacks?” Amélie queried the distracted woman

“Yes! YES YES YES!” She cried out, pivoting on a heel to turn back. Arms outstretched towards, only for a force to exert itself against her throat and chest. Lena glanced over her shoulder and spotted Amélie’s arm extended at, their finger looped under their jacket and crop-top. “Nooooooo!!!”

French woman quick to criticise, “Oh be quiet, that one is far too crowded. We will go to gold class.”

Lena’s eyes lit up, practically sparkling. “Gold class?! Wicked!” She whirled about and strode besides, arms swinging with a wide fool-like smile. The marble flooring shifted to fur carpeting as they transitioned through the immense halls to a more intimate location. The amenities packed closer to each other and the number of guests drastically reduced, it screamed prestige.

Plucky pilot’s expression dropped at the prices. “B..Blimey! Ten quid for a hotdog?!”

The polite male cashier chipped in, chuckling sympathetically. “Ah, we also offer the standard food and drink from outside if you would prefer miss..”

Amélie yawned.

“Whatcha wanna get Amélie?” Lena pipped up, eyes scanning the menu.

“Might I suggest the couple’s combo?”

Lena recoiled, alarmed by the suggestion. Hazel eyes darting to the distracted French woman, voice shrill “W..W..We’re not a couple!”

He shook his head, offering a nervous smile. “It is just what we call a large popcorn, two large drinks and an ice cream each.”

“We’ll take it.” Amélie declared, digging into her black leather jacket and retrieved a purse. Their eyes glided over to the pilot. “And add in the hotdog.” She tapped a platinum card against the EFTPOS before stashing it away.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, she felt a blush flower. Downcast, lips pushed forward into a light pout. “…Thanks!”

They stood together in silence as the food and drink were prepared. It dawned upon Lena that the tickets she hadn’t booked the tickets. Lips parted with a worried crease in her forehead, “Amélie I—”

“I’ve already done it, that Superhero movie with the huge cast, non?”

Lena felt her worries melt way before the strangle hold of guilt gripped her ribs. Amélie had paid for everything thus far, without realising it herself she felt herself grinding the ball of her foot into the ground bashfully. “I owe you…”

“Hmm? Don’t worry, consider us even.”

An arm reached up to rub her neck, “For what—Oh.”

Amélie’s smirk dispelled the guilt promptly. The woman grasped her drink and mint ice cream cone, departing for the cinemas. “Be sure to keep up Lena!” Calling over their shoulder as they strutted along.

That witch! She had purposely left the popcorn for her to carry. Lena’s cheeks expanded into an unhappy pout, bundling up the large bucket in her left arm before realising she couldn’t fit the ice cream cone wrapped in plastic in either hand, occupied by a hotdog and large drink respectively. The cashier offered to set it on top of the popcorn, but the pilot refused, instead snatching it up with her teeth and gave a prompt nod. Chasing after.

…………………………………………………

Lena nearly dropped the contents in her arms and teeth. Eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. The cinema hall rose red carpet, vanilla cream walls with swathes of rose that matched but more importantly…Instead of luxurious recliner leather seats, they were doubles beds equipped with couch armrests. She couldn’t help but gawp at the various couples cuddled together as they prepared for the movie’s start.

Amélie had already taken the liberty of settling in their beds and propped herself sideways against the bed’s extended armrests. Expressionless as her cheeks rested on an open palm. It remained nearly impossible to tell what happened inside her skull, Lena had tried many times throughout their sparring sessions to little success.

Cautiously ascending the stairs, she arrived nearly half a minute later than the lilac woman. She set the popcorn down by the foot of the bed, tugged off her shoes with the aid of each foot and clambered on with drink and hotdog in each hand, dropping the ice cream into her lap. A large gulp followed before the drink came to a rest by the bedside table. Tucked herself into her corner and took an enormous bite. Cheeks swelled as she munched like a squirrel.

Lena exchanged a smile with Amélie. Mouth still crammed with bread and meat, hesitant and bone shivering nervous.

“Are you comfortable, chérie?” The voice like satin silk, practically cooing at.

Nod nod! Smi—Wait best not to do that with a full mouth!

“Hrm…If you say so.” Lips thinned, attention lingered before turning away.

Lena gulped down the rest of the hotdog before searching for the ice cream, tearing away at the plastic.

Crik..clugh..

Pausing mid tear, Lena turned to Amélie, she blinked at the woman as they bit into their cone. The tiny bite revealed the soft, near gooey mint green contents inside. Errghh…Mint. But the colour contrasted the lilac skin astonishingly well, fragments of the chocolate coating arranged itself on the ballerina’s full, glossy lips. How?

Lena swore she hadn’t applied lipstick, nor did she have any at the time of their arrival.

Without realising, she found herself leaning in. Weight rested onto her dominant hand, the closest. Less than a metre now….If she could just touch--

Golden eyes snapped.

Flinch!

“What.” A statement? Left brow lofted, eyes flicked between the mint chocolate and Lena. Amélie extended her arm, “Do you want some?”

Lena shook her head rapidly, “N-No thanks! I don’t like mint.”

“Hrm…Shame.”

“W-What?”

“Nevermind.”

“….Can I borrow your phone again Amélie?”

Without a reply, the device glided into view, on top of a lavender palm.

Lena snatched up the device and scrambled off the bed, “I need to go to the toilet!” Waddling down the steps as she hurried out.

“Mhm. Wash your hands.”

…………………………………………………………………

The pilot shoulder charged into the stall and inspected the seat. Clean, good. She leapt on top, not bothered to strip. She lied.

Lena fumbled with the device in her hand, the familiar cinema logo greeted her as Chrome opened. She froze…..What to type?

How to charm a woman? How to seduce?

A light bulb lit up above her head.

Literally. The difference, negligible for such a well-lit bathroom.

Eureka!

Her fingers tapped into the webpage, muttering along. “How to…pick up a girl.”

Multiple links presented themselves from the search engine. Her eyes scrolled down, noting down pieces of advice from multiple sources.

Have a line ready…” Seemed easy enough.

“Be yourse—” “What a load of rubbish! How do I be myself?!”

“Build the conversation.” Easy peasy lemon squeazy! They talked all the…time….

Did they? Lena felt herself slump a little.

“Make them laugh…” Auughh…This is impossible! Amélie only ever laughed at her misery….

“Compliment.” Okay…Now this was more manageable.

Her gaze drifted to the time, “Oh crap! Its been ten minutes already?! Bloody hell I better get back before she comes looking…”

Lena leapt up to her feet and darted out the stall and back into the hall—Promptly returning to the bathroom and set the phone to the side and twisted the knobs. A quick wash of her hands…Done!

……………………………………………….

The cinema had dimmed, ads were playing. Lena bound up the stairs, rushing back to the lone French woman and dismounted her shoes before clambering on again. Amélie queried, “Where have you been?”

“Bathroom!”

“Did you wash your hands?”

“Yep! Wanna touch?” Lena extended towards, only for a sharp sting to greet the back of her hand. “Ow!”

“Unnecessary. Thank you.” Amélie retrieved her device from and tucked it into her skinny jeans pocket.

“So uh…How was heaven when ya left it?”

The elegant female turned their head, scrutinizing her. “Did you hit your head in the bathroom?”

Lena cowed underneath the inspection. Her frail confidence bruised, “I..I was just making conversation…!”

Amélie’s lip tugged into an emotionless smirk. “I thought you didn’t want to speak, that is why we are here. At the cinemas.”

Jaw worked, opening and closing. The voice in her throat caught, she couldn’t think of a comeback. Eventually settling on an answer, “Yeah! Well! Maybe I was kidding—”

A finger shot up to the perfect lips, signalling for quiet. The movie started.

Lena grumbled and returned to her corner, muttering under her breath. “Rotten Amélie…Smelly rhymes with your name just perfect…” Snatching up the ice cream from the plastic and yanked it out the plastic audibly. She sulked throughout the entire viewing...

At least the female assassin and mind witch were drop dead gorgeous. In fact, the entire cast were…Heck even the purple villain had his qualities…

But the only purple thing she desired, the woman beside her.

Smelly Amélie! Why can’t you take a hint?!

 

Chapter Text

Amélie rose from the bed as the credits rolled. Arms raised above, stretching with the faintest grunt conceivable. The still idle audience drew suspicion, turning to Lena with a puzzled quirk.

Lena blinked back, gesturing frantically at the screen. “Post-credits Amélie… You can’t miss those!” A shake of the head followed by the peach bottom sitting down.

Lilac arms crossed over their chest, head tilting backwards. Almost a growl, “I’ve never understood this part… Why not just play it beforehand?”

Chippy as always, the pilot replied. “Dunno! Probably to get you to watch the credits, but for such fantastic work. I don’t mind! Ashe was fantastic...Can’t wait to see more of her movies”

The lady in front stiffened, they turned their head away.

“Something the matter, luv?”

Amélie dismissed the issue with a wave of her hand, “Nothing, suppose I am not a fan of her work..” Upright, “I’ll wait outside.”

The pilot frowned, reluctant but unwilling to abandon her friend leapt up. “Aww nah, forget about it then! Let’s just leave, I can just watch it on youtube later.”

Together they departed from the cinema early, striding through the lit tunnel and into the carpeted hallways. Continuing in relative silence, Amélie seemed to be in a rush, within less than a quarter of the time they took to traverse to the cinema from their parking spot, they were back into the mall’s corridors.

Hustle and bustle of the crowd drowned out the silence, yet still easy to navigate and perceive each other. The former ballerina gestured in either direction, Lena shrugged and took the initiative, straight on ahead!

The various clothing stores drew little of the pilot’s attention, however she noticed Amélie’s attention linger on various high-end stores. Lena already knew her destination, the food court! Even after the enormous popcorn bucket, to which she had devoured nearly solo…But the lack of weight left her tummy feeling empty.

More meaningless stores, Clarks, Levi’s, Adidas, Nike…FCUK….Liberation…Primark—Lena’s head snapped back to Liberation, a frown teased her expression. That store didn’t seem like it belonged….Her gaze lingered.

“Where are we going…Hrm?” Amélie interjected suddenly. Voice tailored off to the end, a hint of curiosity.

“Food court! I’m hungry.” Lena turned away in time to notice the golden amber eyes resting upon her.

Amélie shook her head in disbelief, “Unbelievable…You just finished a large soft drink, hotdog, ice cream and popcorn.”

Pout formed across Lena’s features, “Hmph…” A finger prodded her cheek, quiet chuckle following. To her great surprise, Amélie acquiesced without further teasing.

…..

A burger and half a large fries later, Lena found herself traversing down the same clean corridor, the crowd from earlier thinned comparatively. Content with the meal, hand patting the faint bulge from her food baby, ambling down the pathway. The pilot felt a strange presence emanating from Amélie but every time she spun around, a profound lack of evidence.

After the fifth time, she had all but given up, dismissing it as nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Neon glow, tight spandex and leather drew her gaze once again, Liberation. As they drew closer to the store, the bizarre presence drilled into the back of her head again.

“Why don’t we go in?” Amélie quizzed, Lena came to a halt, nearly jumping out of her skin as they twisted around. Confirming her suspicion from earlier, the former dominatrix had been observing. It clicked into place, the voice tailoring off earlier…They had caught her staring!

Heat flushed Lena’s cheeks rapidly. Out of the corner of her vision, she could see Amélie rolling her eyes.

The well-adjusted lady continued, voice cool as ever, “Oh come on, Lena. I used to be a former dominatrix and manage a BDSM club, do you really think you should be embarrassed about such matters around meuh?

Without a response, Amélie nudged her in. Practically dribbling the pilot into its entrance whilst they glanced about as if on guard for any onlookers. Lena squeaked as they came to a halt in front of a fade pink door, parting inward automatically.

Inside….

Silicone vaginas, penis replicas, whips, masks and other oddities greeted them. Overwhelming the pilot at first as they stared dumbly, the cashier behind the counter came forth to greet them, a pleasant, eccentrically ordinary female with light freckles. Lena stared back at her with doe-eyes, she wanted to reach forward to touch, to be sure they were there. But found herself staring at the thin strap around their neck, tailoring to the front with a tiny bell.

“What’s that?” She spoke quickly, to nobody. The cockney apparent.

“This?” The freckled platinum blonde slipped a thumb underneath the strap around her neck with a faint smile, “It’s a choker collar. My boyfriend gave it to me.”

“…Oh.” Cool hands rested on top of Lena’s shoulders, gentle and kind. From behind, Amélie.

“See? Not so bad, is it Lena?” Almost cooing, growing distant as they straightened up, an intermission ensued before they complimented. “Good choice, velvet.”

The cashier’s face lit up, beaming at the hawk-eyed woman, “Thank you! Sharp eye I guess you….Wait a minute….Yellow…Lilac skin.” They trailed off as doubt seeped into their speech.

Amélie’s grip tightened against the pilot’s shoulders, from comforting to dull, to sharp. Lena squirmed underneath enough to spark a response. Pressure eased along with her shoulders dropping.

Excited blonde perked up, “Y..You aren’t by any chance, the…Mistress Lacroix a..are you?” Leaning in close, envy plain as they examined the duo. They bent by the knee to meet Lena’s height, “And you must be…”

A shove pressed against the back of the pilot, she lurched off to the side. Amélie’s voice followed, the faintest hitch. “Go explore for a bit Lena.”

Lena felt her head bob before shuffling behind a few shelves of the sex shop, their conversation muffled to the shell-shocked pilot as they wandered about. Various assortment of wear dazzled her eyes but none were as attention grabbing as the plastic models on display with tight spandex enveloped the curves with numerous clasps, buckles and buttons. A tight corset hugged the plastic’s waist, the top of the skull adorned with faux cat ears, thighs and shin binded by dark straps.

“Ya like it?” The cheery voice interrupted, the freckled blonde appeared beside her, hands on waist. Proud, “I fit the model into it myself—Our finest bitchsuit!”

“Bitch—Wha?” Lena spluttered, recoiling away from. Fidgeting with her fingers and shuffled from foot to foot, her limbs felt stiff, anxious.

“Bitchsuit, it’s made to restrain the sub…That’d be you I presume.” They leaned in, cupping the other side of their mouth with the back of her fingers, “Hey—Hey, that’s her isn’t it? Mistress Lacroix? The legendary Widowma—”

Amélie intervened, striding between the duo. Addressing the cashier politely but cold, “Enough. I am more than capable of handling this. Thank you” Before turning away from.

Lena’s attention glided back to the cashier, their eyes half-lidded. Practically sighing their reply, “Of course you are~” Enamoured.

Warm golden eyes transfixed themselves onto.

A hint of mirth behind the piercing guise.

“Bitchsuit, it is made to restrain a submissive, sub for short. The submissive can be either gender…..”

The explanation continued, fluid and concise. Like a practiced lecturer. Amélie explained the various roles and the importance of consent. Lena felt her attention fixated on the dominatrix, jaw agape.

Former dominatrix

…………………………………………………………….

The car ride silent, the ordinarily chippy pilot stared out. Scenery raced by her eyes, her thoughts wandered back to the sex shop. Extensive selection of gadgets, toys and equipment foreign. Only few items were immediately recognizable for their purpose, collar and leash and vibrators, a shiver ran down her spine at the numerous medical devices.

Lena’s mind frequently returning to the bitchsuits. “Does Angie wear stuff like that? Is it comfortable? Why would she want to be treated like an animal?” A quiet gasp escaped, Fareeha stepped into her daydream, whip and leash in each hand, the doctor trailed after. Arms immobilized with an armbinder, bitchsuit equipped with a ball gag crammed into their lips. Pale virtually snow white swiss neck enveloped by leather, at its front linked to the leash in the Egyptian’s hand. Helpless. Desperate. Hungry for their touch.

Flinching an inch away from the window, residual heat lingered between thighs. Quick to cross her legs and shuffle into a comfortable position. Alarmed by the unexpected detection of personal excitement, much less from her daydream.

A daydream of Angela, best friend, quivering underneath their girlfriend, worshipping mocha thighs and whined for attention. Feebly humping their ankle, any self-reservation and restraint overpowered by primal lust only for the whip to crack over their rear, seemingly as a deterrent at first yet the Swiss female urged further. encouraged

Any sign of typical intelligence behind the quivering woman’s pleasured visage, vacant. Just a Swiss bitch in heat.

Her breathing hitched, legs alternated again. Eyes blooming for a second. Did she just--

Soft noise fugitive from the iris lips to her right.

Lena’s head rotated to, hazel orb drilled into the side of the French woman whom remained nonchalant as they maintained their focal point forward. Either intentionally oblivious or concealing it from.

Turning back window side, suspicious. mind continued to drift and wander. Thankfully the fantasies about Angela and Fareeha had ceased, in time her legs uncrossed. Aware her breathing steadied.

Familiar neighbourhood drew into view, the sun having withdrawn behind the numerous trees and residential structures, its warm light glowered around the edges. Carroty glow too dim for the surroundings, lamp posts flickered on.  Her studio apartment in sight, the luxury vehicle parked by the curb.

Existing in silence, Lena fidgeted for something…Anything to say.

She started.

“Uhm…”

“You know “

They spoke in unison. A pause.

Amélie gestured, “After you.”

Lena raised both hands in the air and waved frantically, “Nonono! You!”

The lilac hand rotated around, palm side up. “You.”

Abashed, own limb reached up to scratch a cheek gently. Tickling self, the pilot consented. “I…I just wanted to say thanks for today.” Eyes downcast, flicking to for a brief split-second. “E..Even though I was d…difficult in the morning.” She nodded, as if satisfied by the sentence.

Lena felt a finger brush under her chin, pausing at the point. Head tilted back as they lifted, gazes meeting. Hazel and Golden amber. A thrill ran down her spine.

Amélie’s voice innocent as a dove, “You’re welcome.” Digit lingered, their lips parted and jerked a tiny bit before breaking away from.

Lena peered at quizzically, nothing came forth. She turned to leave, reaching for the door handle, disappointed. The butterfly door rose, closest foot stepped out and shifted her weight onto—A lukewarm hand seized her wrist, a quiet yelp emanated as they collapsed back onto the seat.

A soft exhalation brushed against her neck, Amélie, hesitant. “Lena…If you have the interest, to explore bondage….I would be willing.”

She blinked at her own apartment door dumbly, “Willing? Willing to wha?” Lena twisted her head over her shoulder and peered at. Confusion outwardly evident on her features.

Amélie’s visage gentle as a lamb, answered. “To help. I wouldn’t like it if you were hurt by a reckless dominant.”

Lena recoiled, was the lady behind her offering to…Be her…? She needed time to answer “Okay!” Her mouth blurted out. Wait that wasn’t what her mind agreed upon

“Okay as in…You’re interested?”

“Sure!” No, god damn it mouth! LISTEN TO BRAIN!

A lopsided smile slithered across Amélie’s features, perhaps a touch pleased by the answer or amused. But ever so charming as it embellished the normally stark features.

Regard it hit Lena’s chest with a hefty thud. Make her smile. Check! The grip around her wrist released, retreating to the transmission.

The rest, a blur.

Lena found herself at the end of her bed, staring at the kitchen wall. Before her mind caught up.

What just happened? Where am—Oh

BZZZT!

Her phone. Scrambling over to the other end and scooped it up from the bedside table, various missed messages and calls. The most recent, Angela Ziegler, a selfie with her girlfriend.

They beamed up at the camera, Fareeha’s head rested against the doctor’s shoulder, the top of her head nestled between jaw and shoulder. Left hand held up a piece of chocolate, the swiss woman mirrored the action. Duo, teasing the sweet-toothed girl.

But her focus lingered elsewhere on the image.

Angela’s neck

A choker collar, leather straps connected to a heart shaped silver ring.

Gulp.

Chapter Text

A hum thrummed in the air as the Hispanic, undercut bobbing in the air as she swaggered along. Renewed purple streaks provided a dash of flavour to her aesthetic, a boost of confidence for herself yet a lack of observers to flaunt it off and witness to. She paused, the midst of the third floor, with a flick of her wrist, the handheld make-up mirror clacked open, trained fingers traced the lip with the tube of violet pink lipstick.

Muffled speech stemmed from the doors of Club Talon’s esteemed but withdrawn owner. The ever cheeky and playful hacker paused, glancing about before slipping the gadgets into her purse. Creeping towards the entrance in question, she pressed her ear against the oakwood with a quirked brow.

The voices clearer now.

“So…? Out with it, what happened? Give me the deets!” Accent light, a touch of Arabic. Egyptian…Fareeha!

Weightier, accentuated with a hint of a regional dialect she couldn’t quite place. Unequivocally French, Amélie! “Why are you so interested in my relationship with Lena, I told you…We are just friends.”

“Oh come on! I practically hooked you two up!” Fareeha whined nearly child-like. “And you two are always together after work…She’s still on leave isn’t she? What have you two been up to?”

“You did no such thing. If anything your moth—Ana did…” Amélie hitched at the mention of Fareeha’s mother, eliciting a frown that teased her eyebrows from the Mexican.

A pause drifted between. The quiet French voice mumbled, “We went to Westfield, there. Are you happy now?”

“The mall..? What the heck did you—THE MOVIES?”

“…Maybe.”

A loud clap emanated from, startling the Mexican but she managed to keep herself from crying out.

Curt and icy, “I would thank you not to slam your hands on my desk, Fareeha.”

“What’d you watch—Did you two make out? No…YOU TWO DIDN’T!” A faint squeal followed by light clatter of heels against the floor.

“No. None of that—Get your mind out of the gutter….” Amélie scolded, “Tch…”

“Aww…Why didn’t you make a move?”

Faintest noise, perhaps a crinkle of leather? Olivia could picture it now, the former ballerina crossing her arms. “I do not think she sees me in that light, Fareeha.”

“Rubbish, there’s no way she isn’t attracted to you.” Dismissing the notion without hesitation. How rare for the Egyptian to declare in such a fashion. Sombra knew the dominatrix well, intimate on more than a single occasion, the astonishingly sharp female often true in judgement.

“Then why did she not make a move?” Amélie countered, frustration hinted in their tone. “I even paid for everything, the snacks…Hotdogs and a burger after.”

Fareeha spluttered in disbelief, the image of the tall Egyptian shaking their head and scoffing appeared into her mind. “Are you daft, woman?”

“What did you call me..?” Harsh, they spat back.

“I asked if you were daft, Amélie. I don’t know if you realise but Lena likely isn’t as experienced as either of us when it comes to dating—Heck, this conversation makes me question if you are any better.”

“Are you trying to anger me?”

Fareeha’s voice drew closer, the clack of heels. They retreated closer to the door, “I’m just saying…She’s barely recovered from her ex like…How long has it been since my mom’s birthday? A month?”

A defeated huff. Sombra bit back a yelp, Amélie Lacroix conceded a point. That had never happened before…Then again, they didn’t often socialize out of work.

Continuing, “I think you’re going to have to take the initiative here, be the…” An instant passed, Fareeha likely quoting the air with two fingers of each hand, “Guy…Here.”

“Urgh….Whatever…At least they agreed to have me as their dominatrix.”

“WHAT?!” They cried out in unison.

Sombra stiffened, eyes growing wide. She straightened immediately. A rush of footsteps emanated from the other side, YIKES! Breaking into a full sprint down the hall. Lower lip drawn back as she fled the scene of the crime.

BAM, CLACK, CLACK, CLACK!

The footsteps in unison as they pursued after. Rounding the

“SOMBRA YOU BITCH, GET BACK HERE!!” Pharah screeched after, racing ahead of her companion. With each stride, a half step stride lengthier than but Olivia, quicker. Exceptionally agile as it befitted her body.

Picking up the pace, Olivia rushed down the 180 winder stairs. She rounded the turn and leapt down the rest of the steps descending a level, wobbling dangerously on her heels. Progressed down the staircase another floor and squeaked.

CLACK!

Amélie landed in front, a single knee bent forward…Holy shit did she just leap down from a whole level? They rose to their feet gracefully with an atypical subzero stare. Blocking off her route of escape, Olivia’s jaw went slack. Each step back, a step forward in turn taken by her boss.

Hispanic dominatrix backed into the winding stairway, rounding back with each step. She would have to flee from one of three other staircases on the second floor. Thud—Oh crap…Fareeha!

The Egyptian slipped her mind during the moment of shock. Olivia whipped her head back, “Wait, Fare—HUGGHHHH!” Doubling over as the woman wrapped her up in a crushing bear hug, violet irises bulged from their sockets as the air squeezed out of her lungs. No mercy.

Heels clicked closer.

Wheezing fell on deaf ears, she peeked up at the looming club owner. Whom stared past, exchanging a glance with the woman acting as a living restraint for. Honeyed eyes snapped back to. A mild sneer drew on their lips.

Olivia’s heart sank, lips parted in a silent scream. She had seen that look before, and it spelled arduous evening ahead. No..No..Nononono! Anyone but her!

“Send her to Dr. O’Deorain.”

A quiet scoff originated from behind, without even turning she could tell a smirk embellished their lips. Practically dripping as they savoured the incoming misfortune for her.

Olivia flailed, kicked and bucked against desperately. Frantic, of course if she truly intended to escape or decline…The duo would release her, as with all acts performed in the club, they required consent. Like all performances, faux to a degree. She didn’t enjoy medical play but—Duty to tread the fine line between distaste and reluctance, the doctor did well. And… Retribution that followed if she had insisted on rejecting the judgement, likely to be far worse. Still, Olivia didn’t exactly dislike Moira, just her insistence on edging her subs to the brink of consciousness. Heck, they remained the club’s personal medical staff in case of any emergency.

Well…At least it had been a year since her last health check-up…

Soft lips brushed against the shell of her ear, eliciting a whimper from.

Shady and cruel, “Lets pump that curious kitty’s belly full of milk~.”

Oh shit…

Enemas…

Her world turned as Pharah hoisted up over her shoulder, whistling as she transported her down to the first floor, crossing lengthy blinking dance floor and headed for the dungeons.

A distant French voice called to, terminating the rest of her struggles in order to respond glumly. “You still remember your safeword, non?”

As she bounced on top of, Olivia raised a thumbs up above in response, yelping as a stinging slap landed on her rear.

Fareeha followed up for, “Like this one could ever!”

Well…She surrendered the afternoon to suffer underneath Dr. O’Deorain’s heel, may as well confirm the information that landed her in this situation. “So… Widowmaker’s practicing again?”

“Hm…I wouldn’t go that far……By the way, Moira’s teaching a class right now. Guess you get to be her guinea pig.”

Her eyes rolled up behind lids, oh god damn it. This could not get any worse. Sombra drooped against, sinking against the broad shoulder. Public humiliation and enemas.

Fareeha quizzed curiously, aware of the fabled doctor’s practices, “How many litres last time?”

“Two. She kept on edging and edging… I nearly yelled Koi Fish into her ear.” Grumbled back.

Light and airy, a pinch of cheer in the Egyptian’s voice. “Think I’ll stick around and catch the show!”

You just wait Fareeha…Next time you’re under my care…I’ll pay back this humiliation, double! No…. TRIPLE!

…………………………………………………

“Come on, three, four! Into five, two!” Aging but vibrant voice commanded the younger and livelier.

Lena darted forward, left and right hook connecting with the mitts, “Unsh, unsh!” followed by a bob and weave into a left uppercut and right straight. “Unsh unsh!”

They were light, too light for someone of her size. Speed the name of the game but force? That determined if the former even mattered. The Egyptian shook her head in disappointment.

“Reset! One, body, body, six!” Ana nonstop, readied her mitts, spotting the woman’s muscles beginning to slump as they began to relax.

Lena yelped, leaped back and raising the gloved fists up to protect her chin. She darted forward, gloved hand receiving a jab in return as she delivered the ordered combo, however the right uppercut interrupted by a right hook. It sent the ace pilot lurching to the side in a daze.

As usual, the three friends, never far away when the brit remained on base. Ana noted to self silently. Observed in awe by the edge of the ring, sat in the middle of the shared gymnasium between army and air force personnel.

“Cover up, Lena. You have to retract your fist as quick as you strike, otherwise there’s an opening for a counter.” Ana lectured, adding with a cautionary quirk of a brow. “An all too easy one at that.”

“Bah, you’re being too harsh on the girl. She’s air force. Probably will never need it.” Jack’s gravelly voice defended, the smile on his lips betrayed his intention however, the show, enjoyable. Retired woman turned to perk a brow at.

“Oi what’s that s’pposed to mean, mate?” The one she believed to be, Noah called over from the other side, his chest puffed up.

A friendly but sometimes over the top rivalry between the two branches of military.

Buzzcut male rolled his fist in the air, “C’mon, step in the ring. I’ll show you how it’s done, bob’s your uncle!” Only to receive a slap on the back of the head by the bulkier Asian beside him, Adam. Recognizable by his build. “Blimey, what the hell was that for?”

Adam scolded, “You idiot, that’s Jack Morrison. He’s a squadron commander in the SAS!”

“O-Oh shit. R..Really?” Much younger male snapped back to the visored, silver fox of a man. Their shoulders bobbing as they clutched their toned stomach. In unison, three set of eyes flicked to the elderly Egyptian. Noah pondered outloud, “Then who’s the one decking our corgi?”

The trio exchanged glances and shrugged amongst themselves.

Jack intervened humorously, the front of his hands in view as he gestured to each side. “My old captain. She’s a mean one, second to none in hand to hand. Best sniper I’ve seen.”

Their jobs dropped in unison. Lena’s lithe body collapsed onto the canvas to emphasise their point.

“…Oops, might’ve caught her jaw a bit too hard.” Ana remarked down at the unconscious girl, her head rolled back, meeting their gazes mischievously. “How about a little warm-up? The three of you. Air force could use the supplementary training. Same time if you like.” She added the last part, teasing their inferiority complexes. Boys…

“WHAT?” Charlie, the last of the trio chuffed all too easily. Mark one. “You believe this? She thinks she can handle all three of us at the same time! Come on boys! Bloody hell, she’s underestimating all of us!”

Noah, reluctant but eventually fell in the hype. “Y..Yeah! YEAH LETS GLOVE UP. COME ON! ADAM, YOU GOING TO DOG THE BOYS?” He leapt in the air and shoved the larger male who shook his head, muttering under his breath darkly. Mark three and two, respectively. Leave the hype man for last, lets the misery really set in.

Jack had already retrieved the dazed and barely conscious pilot, attempting to warn her friends, “Blimeeyeeyy…Don’….Don’…duh…y’ll…Ooohhh starsss!”

Three against one.

Charlie flanked her left, Adam on the right. Dumb ass in the middle.

Ana shook off the mitts with a bright smile. Chest pushing forward as she squeezed her shoulder blades together and stretched. Arms rolling in the air as two MMA gloves flew in the air, unnaturally sharp reflexes caught both in one swiping motion. Warning #1.

She equipped the gloves with a smirk. If they were smart—

“Hey! That’s cheating, you’ve got MMA gloves.”

Ana shrugged and exchanged a glance with Jack. “Feel free to grab some yourselves.”

They exchanged glances and nodded, Charlie ripped the Velcro off with his teeth and worked the gloves off like his companions.

Ever the man to be on time, three sets of loopholed gloves landed in front of them as they tossed the thicker padded gloves to side. Advantage #1

Ana bounced on her feet, shaking the stiffness out of her muscles as she shadow-boxed an imaginary opponent in front of. Holding back as she completed in half.

“Alright ya old bag, you ready?!”

She pivoted her head to the source of its voice, unexpectantly from Adam. It summoned a deep-seated chuckle from her chest. Of the trio, she had expected the most respect from the Asian, after all their traditions shared the same respect for the elderly. “Ready whenever.”

Fortune favours the bold.

Ana darted for her first mark, leaping into the air to take him by surprise. Right leg kick back as her respective fist collided with his jaw, superman punching the male in the jaw, his head snapped back like a rubberband.

Turning her attention to mark two, ducking under a wild haymaker by the dumb ass. A right rear front kick followed from the bulky Asian. Clumsy, she pivoted on her lead foot, circling the blow and invading his inner circle. His expression, from dark to horror.

She wielded an oni-like face. An evil cackle emanated from, a rush of adrenaline and pleasure surged up her spine. Beating up FNG’s, an enjoyable pastime from her earlier days.

The momentum carried from her approach translated into a spinning backfist, breaking past the lead arms guard and colliding with the asian’s jaw. Followed through into a choke slam as her arms enveloped his neck, flying, leaping past, feet airborne as she intended to have him suffer the full force of his own weight exerted against his neck, the back strained as her forearm provided a buffer between chest and chin as the collided with the canvas.

An instant takedown.

With a kip-up, back turned to the remaining duo. Frantic footsteps sprinted towards—Mark one had picked himself up again, hoping to take her by surprise it seemed. Noah five steps behind witnessed as she ducked under the poor shoulder tackle attempt.

Charlie turned around in time to greet her left fists knuckles in the jaw, his arms flailed frantically as the blows rained down upon him. It must’ve felt like they were coming from impossible angles as his poor defence involved turtling up.

Ana peered over her back casually with a bored expression.

Noah fell to a standstill, jaw essentially unhinged at the sight before him. Jack’s howling laughter did little to aid his confidence it seemed.

Turning back to the whimpering male in front, she grasped him by the shirt and yanked him towards before shoving back into the corner. Arms splayed out to the side, collapsing onto the ropes. A few uppercuts and hooks followed before she threw the already limp body onto the ground, the hollow flooring elicited a weak grunt from.

Wrapping around his back like a spider, the Egyptian placed him into a rear naked choke, her gaze connected with designation dumb ass. A warm smile embellished her features as the male in her grasp clocked out.

Well…All good things had to come to an end…

……………………………………………….

“Adam! CHARLIE, NOAH! WHO DID THIS TO YOU—NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Lena cried out, hands clutching either side of her skull. Seemingly suffering from temporary amnesia from earlier. Uncharacteristic head bumps decorated Noah’s features. The others…Had an easier time.

The overly dramatic response only served to bring the commander to his knees as he continued to howl with laughter.

Ana surveyed from her seat on the bench, sipping her potion. With a smirk. Ah the airforce…Hard pressed to believe the quartet in front weren’t a comedy team. Perhaps they performed at a local stand-up joint.

Chapter Text

  1. O'Deorain

Wed, August 11 2019, 11:49AM

We need more KY Jelly.

Oh and some new flasks.

You’re late for your check-up too.

Pharah as well.

Wed 11:55AM

Ok.

Today 2:12PM

You must be in a mood.

Today 2:14PM

Hm?

You sent little Sombrat down to me?

I am teaching a class

She is currently making a fine addition.

I know.

Perhaps I will add a picture to my wall.

Today 2:23PM

To your page? Or wall, wall

My page. Instagram, it has been a few years…

Then perhaps this will do

[image: Sombrasquirming.png]

Coinín possesses an adorable pained expression

Today 2:34PM

You never fail to impress me, Dr.

Happy to serve.

How many litres?

2.5

Where is she at now

Halfway.

Good, see to it she is put on display.

As you wish… I hear you might be practicing.

You heard wrong.

Sombrat swears by it.

Stop.

Hmmn…Please?

Absolutely not.

I must return to the class. We will discuss this further in the future.

…………………………………………………….

Amélie set the phone down with an annoyed grunt, curse that Hispanic minx and her gossip. Exactly the reason why she chose to confide in her closest…Friend. As nosy as they were. Still a flutter of satisfaction in her chest, having uploaded the picture onto her Instagram. The first post in many moons.

Leaning back into the chair and propped her heels up on the fine oak, eyes blinked shut. Perhaps a nap, recent days had been unkind to her resting patterns. Pondering mutely…. Lena, what are you up to?

……………………………………………………..

Nose stuffed with tissues, the trio of ragged, beaten and bruised men rested against the wall on top of a tiny squatting bench.

“…Did we really just lose to that old hag?” Noah, the first to speak about the short ordeal.

“Shut up.” Charlie followed, having suffered arguably the worst.

Adam just stared into the ground.

Bored and without any duties to perform, Noah dug in his pockets for his phone. Internet, his favourite distraction apart from their corgi. But Lena had long departed from the air base, technically still under leave. They had popped by to spar with the high-profile duo in the army, of course they lacked any clue to their reputation until recently.

He flicked through his apps, reddit—Checked earlier in the morning, YouTube—No headphones. Facebook—Bah…Oh, Instagram. A quiet tap followed.

Eyes lighting up immediately. “HOLY SHIT!” He leapt to his feet. Drinking in the image before him, licking his lips, his hand raised up to rub his eye. Noah blinked, once, twice, thrice.

That woman…Where had he seen her before...? Undercut, distinct patterns and purple highlights…

Club Talon…!

Sombra? The woman that greeted them when they had visited with Lena.

Garbed in a casual uniform, stockaded. Their expression, lower lip bit, fingers curled and lopsided wince within the wooden cuff-like device, perhaps in extreme discomfort? His gaze trailed down to the caption text.

“When dominatrix’s misbehave….- Widowmaker”

Adam grunted with an unimpressed glare, “What the heck is wrong with you mate?”

He flipped the phone around to the Asian pilot.

The man in front recoiled, expression shot up at first in recognition? Followed by shock. Definite shock. Cheeks blushing a shade. “What the hell--? Man, why are you always on these--”

“DuUUude! Isn’t that the Mexican girl from Club Talon?” Charlie yelped, snatching the phone from and brought the device closer to his eyes. “Dang! She looks fine as fuck—Awesome expression….”

Noah stared at him dumbly. This was by the far most interest his friend had expressed for the fetish scene. The man now possessing his mobile stiffened.

Charlie perhaps realising his mistake too late, turned to staring, sheepish. “W..What? L-Look I got curious after that day, alright? S..Shut up!”

Noah glanced over to  Adam exchanged a look, they felt a light smirk tug at the corner of their lips, turning to Charlie. “Uh huh….”

It came in unison.

……………………………………………………………………………..

Smelly Amélie

Thursday 4:22PM

Alright, you win…Lets take a break tomorrow!

I’ll pick you up

Shall we say…2PM?

Okie dokes!

No need to dress super nice! I don’t have much….Fancy clothes.

Today

2:43PM

Lena, are you coming over tonight as usual?

2:55PM

Mhm.

Very well. The usual I suspect?

Yep! Be there in like a hour or so.

I will prepare the necessary equipment.

3:02PM

Oh, should I bring anything in particular? Like Pizza

…Unnecessary, just yourself will do.

You’re the boss! I’m a bit sore already, so take it easy on me tonight!

Of course…It will be an introductory course.

Not that easy! I’ve been practicing, might catch you by surprise.

Read: 3:05PM

Introductory course? Lena scoffed. She had been practicing in secret, with Ana Amari nonetheless. The Egyptian had drilled into her numerous CQC techniques at personal request. Of course, this being the first day of many to come.

Seeing no response and satisfied with the reply sent, Lena stashed the device into her pocket. Fingers plucked up at the windbreaker, Autumn in September had marked a rather swift change in weather conditions, the breezes chilly and unnaturally crisp. The crunch of fallen leaves under her sneakers distracted her from the light throb in her left temple, where Ana’s matted strike had collided with an hour earlier.

At least it had begun to reside.

The plucky pilot hoped to catch Amélie off-guard, perhaps she would conceal the techniques and skills she had acquired tonight. Patience.

Ana had repeated the word only so many times, one could in an hour of sparring.

Lena grunted, her temple throbbed at the reminder but…  felt a warmth from the strict educator that only a mother could possess. If not for the tattoo, facial structure and distinct mocha skin, the former soldier possessed distinct difference to her daughter. Fareeha.

The Egyptian dominatrix, kind and polite. Playful with a touch of child-like innocence. Yes, childlike…At least whenever Ana was around.

Whereas the elder Egyptian possessed a slyer attitude, kind but manipulative….

Amélie’s cool mien popped into her head.

On second and deeper thought, perhaps not so different. After all, Fareeha had introduced the two of them with the ulterior intention of a relationship.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT! I SAID A FRIEND, NOT A COLLEAGUE!”

Lena nearly tripped over her own foot with a yelp. The furious outburst from Swiss lady rang in her head. Her lips pushed forward into a slight pout. Wait a minute…Did that mean Angela…? The sole responsibility of flipping her life upside fell upon her childhood friend’s shoulders?

Angela…

Grinding against Fareeha’s heels, whimpering, pleading and whining. Kisses peppered the mocha thighs—Heart-shaped choker attached to the leash, yanking them further up against, to the ankle. Rose painted lips disappeared behind a thigh and blue minidress.

Ackh!

That fantasy again…Lena clutched her crotch with a wince, why now? Glancing about, coast clear on the empty residential streets. She hadn’t been in the mood all day. Every time either of the duo popped into her head, it inevitably lead to a kind of hallucination or daydream.

With a shake, Lena scanned the distance for the tell-tale sign of the bus stop. There! Up the slight incline and at the peak.

Jesus, she broke into a jog, gym bag strap bounced gently against shoulder.

Perhaps the session with Amélie could provide the adequate distraction!

Chapter Text

Boop! Read above