Chapter 4: Walk of Shame

After eating a meal that took entirely too long to make, Fiona was finally able to start calming down.

Orgasmic relief continued to elude her, but for the moment, that didn’t feel like it mattered. She was able to clean her apartment, and even put on clothing, without falling to the floor a helplessly masturbatory mess. The simple act of not masturbating had never felt like a victory before, but these circumstances were very different.

She’d never encountered a woman like Evanthe in her life. Fiona wasn’t sure if she wanted that to be the only time or not.

Another experience like that might be even harder to put behind her.

There were no messages on the Figura phone. She was thankful that Evanthe hadn’t taken it with her along with the ransom. It would have been petty, but taking away her orgasms didn’t exactly feel like a very nice thing to do, either.

When it was late, late enough that she could see darkness beginning to creep over the city outside her window, Fiona dialed Denise’s number. Every ring was agony, squeezing around her heart so tight she was afraid it would break apart. By the time the line finally picked up, Figura was wound up so tight she was barely able to breathe.

“Figura.” Denise didn’t sound alarmed at all. She sounded calm, possibly even hopeful. Instead of helping Fiona relax, that only made things worse.

Did they not call her…? Does she not know…? Will I need to tell her what—

“How did it go?”

Figura bit her lip to hold back a whine. At least the pressure didn’t make her thighs burn. That felt like a good thing. “It… It didn’t go so well. When you said they might have ties with The Syndicate, I was imagining metahuman muscle, like a bruiser, not… not…” How could she possibly explain what happened? Every time she tried to find some way to describe those red, wet lips covering her with some kind of drug…

The words escaped.

I can’t tell her that… or that… or that…

“Things went very badly…”

“It sounds like things were difficult…” Denise sighed. She sounded more worried than upset. “I’ll call and see if their demands have changed. Come by as soon as you can, please.”

“Of course, Miss Spence.” Figura barely choked out the words. “I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

For a moment there was only silence. Figura couldn’t bring herself to hang up the phone. She needed to get going, but she felt like such a complete, miserable failure. She’d been tasked to bring home a girl held hostage, and instead she’d been… violated, and left in a miserable state that had taken most of the day to recover from enough to function.

Maybe this is what I needed to learn my lesson, to stop trying to go for the glory when I should be focusing on the people who need me the most…

“Please,” Her client’s voice sounded worried, more concerned with soothing her audible anxiety than rushing to judging her for her failure. “Call me Denise.”

Figura breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t completely burned a bridge with her lapse in judgement. “Of course… Of course, Denise. I’ll be right down!” Finally, she felt the strength to hang up the phone, and the confidence to pull off her brief chameleon trick long enough to exit her window.

A girl is being kept away from her home, and she’s counting on you to help her. You can’t give up now!

Her skin still felt sensitive. The evening’s cool breeze cruelly taunted her curves through her leotard, but Figura didn’t let that hold her back. She moved towards the heart of the city, hoping that she was enough of a heroine to rise to the occasion—not for her own sake, but for the sake of the missing girl.

“Please, come in.”

Knocking on the door of Denise’s office felt awkward, but everything felt awkward for Figura right now. Walking wasn’t feeling quite as difficult anymore, but that felt like such as silly thing to celebrate. She closed the door behind her, standing nervously behind the chair where she usually sat. “What’s the news…?”

“Good, actually.” Denise smiled warmly, and Figura let out a sigh of relief. “They’re acting coy about what happened last night, but they’re not raising the price, so that’s a good thing. I was able to reach out to her family and twist their arms into cooperating, so this time, they’re the ones footing the bill.” She lifted the briefcase from behind her desk, setting it down with a heavy thunk. “I don’t need to tell you how important it is that things go better tonight.

“Not only is this… a significant financial investment, but the longer this goes on, the more dangerous things become for the real victim in all of this.” Denise’s smile faded, and her eyes met Figura’s. “I can count on you to handle this, right?”

This was the first time Figura had ever seen uncertainty in Denise’s eyes, and it stabbed her right in the chest. What was worse was how difficult it was for her to reach into that wellspring of heroic willpower to fight past her own doubts. That’s what Denise needs to see right now. I need to rise to this challenge, or else what good am I?

Her voice was still stuttery and uncertain, but after a moment’s focus she was able to speak. “You can count on me, Denise. I’ll get her back for you. Last night won’t happen again.”

Denise’s smile returned.

“Good. I knew I could. Here… Take a seat, and let me tell you what the drop point is tonight. You should take a moment to catch your breath before you head out.”

Figura took her seat with a smile. As much as I want to punish myself, it doesn’t make sense to tire my legs out when I may need to go back and forth across the city tonight. You can do this, Figura. Just stay focused.

Her body was still hungry for sensation, but she was strong enough that she was certain Denise couldn’t even notice. She listened attentively to every detail, her face wearing a bright, confident smile.

This will not turn out like last time. Figura quietly muttered to herself as she made her way to the drop location. The briefcase felt even heavier than it had before. This time, it also carried all the shame and embarrassment of her failure. This time needed to be different. She wasn’t sure her confidence could take the hit. It can’t. Nothing about it is the same—and this time you’re ready. This time you’re prepared for everything to go wrong. They won’t pull one over on you. Not again.

She really wanted to transform into someone a little more intimidating, but that idea had only occurred to her after she’d left Denise’s office. Now, they’d be expecting Figura as she was normally seen…

Not the seven-foot-tall demon girl with horns she’d dreamed up during her walk.

The best ideas always come to mind when it’s too late…

Sighing, she approached the small dive bar on the opposite corner of the city from the park where she’d met Evanthe. It wasn’t very big, but when she opened the door, she found plenty of people inside. If anything, the place seemed too full for a deal involving so much money where one side would want to keep things on the down-low.

Every stool at the bar was filled. There was a band performing with loud guitars and drums.

Maybe all of this noise is the point… Figura faintly shrugged. I’ve never been a crime person, so I can only guess what they see as valuable in a meet-up spot. I just need to find the table they said would be reserved, hide away, and wait… then I give them the money, and bring the girl home. It’s that simple… Right…?

Taking a deep breath, she entered, expecting at least a few heads to turn towards her. Instead, they all seemed far too busy focusing on their own conversations, or listening to the live music. Others were clearly lost in their drinks.

She made a mental note not to order anything at all as she made her way to the corner. There was a table with a single red rose in a clear glass vase, just as they’d described to Denise.

It was also the only empty table, with no one sitting on either side.

As anxious as she was, Figura moved over and took her seat. It wasn’t in the very far corner, so either side had people sitting in the next table. Both tables were filled with women wearing worn leather and ripped denim, so there hardly seemed like a real choice to make. So, she sat, wishing she’d thought to handcuff the case to her wrist.

If I do this again—she quickly interrupted her own thoughts—which I won’t? I’m going to grab a pair of handcuffs.

Figura waited, settling into her seat and trying to pretend she was enjoying the band that sounded like they were performing covers of songs that were over twenty years old with instruments that were over thirty, or at least very badly out of tune and in desperate need of maintenance. No one else seemed to mind it, with plenty singing along or at least bopping to the beat. It didn’t suit Figura at all, but it seemed to suit the patrons of the Greasy Gasket just fine.

“Is this seat free?”

That was the phrase she was told the woman coming to see her would use. Figura stiffened up, squeezing the handle of the briefcase a little tighter. She really wished they just wanted her to put the briefcase somewhere and forget about it. Why would they need someone to talk to them? Doesn’t that make it riskier for them? Why would they want to give themselves up?

Again, Figura was aware she lacked the frame of reference to understand… but that didn’t make the situation feel any less confusing.

“Y-yes… It’s free.” Figura sighed. She wanted to turn the woman away. She was working with the women responsible for both a kidnapping and her current embarrassment. There was no way of knowing for sure if the seal on her orgasm would ever pop off, like Evanthe said it would, or if she would be stuck a sexually frustrated mess for the rest of her life. “Please. Take a seat.”

“Thank you. I will.”

The woman sat in front of her, smiling the smoothest, most comfortable smile that Figura had ever seen. Her shoulder-length brown hair fell mostly in loose ringlets, and a pair of black-framed glasses rested atop her nose, drawing emphasis to her hazel eyes. She wore a dark, black leather jacket that looked old—either used, or like she’d worn it for a good twenty years. She didn’t look old enough for the jacket to have fit her that long, but it was definitely aged.

Under the jacket she wore a tight black t-shirt, one that clung to her breasts tightly. It was impossible to not notice, even before the woman set her glass of beer down on the wooden table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Figura. You can call me Sedam.”

“Nice to meet you… Sedam.” Figura was all but speaking between gritted teeth. The last thing she wanted was another embarrassing evening. “You’ll forgive me if your associate put me in a very bad mood. If we could speed this along… I think your bosses would rather get their money, and I want to get that girl home as quickly as I can.”

“If you aren’t going to play along?” Sedam leaned across the table, whispering just loud enough for Figura to hear over the loud bar around them. “No one will ever see her again.”

Figura’s blood ran cold, and anxious pinpricks spread across her shoulders. Her grasp on the briefcase tightened again. She had to resist the urge to turn her hand to metal and claw something unflattering into the top of the wooden table. “Fine. I can play along. How is this going to go? I’m not here to fall for—”

“Of course you’re not. You’re too smart to fall prey to the tricks of two women in a row… much less the same trick.” Sedam hooded her eyes, making a point of very slowly rubbing her lips together. Figura’s eyes darted down to them, and for a moment she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

They were so full, so plush so… red.

So much like Evanthe’s.

Stop. Focus. Figura shook her head. You pulled yourself out of bed. You pulled yourself out of the shower. You can do this. You just need to focus!

Centering herself, Figura took a deep, slow breath. “That’s right. I’m not going to fall for the same trick again, so if we could just get through this… I’d like to see her. Soon. My client was very insistent on that point.”

“I’m certain she was.” Sedam’s smile softened, but she didn’t draw back. “There’s just something I’d like to discuss, first.”

Figura’s grasp tightened again. She’s going to reference last night. She’s going to ask me how much I’d love to cum, and if I’d rather work for her boss instead of mine. She’s going to say something disgusting or lewd just to see how desperate I am. Ugh… I can see it in her eyes!

“Did you know the human mind can only really keep track of seven things—plus or minus two?” Sedam’s smile remained as confident, while Figura blinked in confusion. “I know—that must sound like a very strange thing to mention out of turn, but…? It’s true. It’s especially true when we’re worrying about something like, say…” Sedam lifted up her beer, moving it directly in front of her chest. It was impossible to see the glass without looking right through. “One. You need to keep in mind that there’s a hostage out there, somewhere, desperate for you to find her. Help her.

“Save her.”

Sedam took a slow sip of her beer, but Figura didn’t respond. Instead, she simply waited, with a flat, unamused expression.

“That’s one. Two… The very loud music of a noisy, rough bar.” Sedam motioned her glass back across both of her breasts, mimicking the motion she’d made before referring to their hostage. “Three? There are so many people around us. Any one of them might be her—or might be my backup. If you stand right now, they might be ready to move in. You need to be aware of your surroundings—and that’s made harder by… four… the loud music that’s coming from speakers all around the bar.”

Figura blinked. What is she even trying to do…? It didn’t make sense, but she couldn’t deny that she was feeling a little strange. The woman’s voice was unusually easy to listen to, and something about what she was saying did feel like a lot to take in. Is she warning me about an ambush…?

The glass moved back across Sedam’s chest, and Figura found herself following it with her eyes.

The hostage.

The beer.

Two very large, very heavy-looking breasts…

All around her were so many women carrying on their own individual conversations, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the music, but too far away for Figura to make out each and every word. The music was everywhere, all around her, and it was so loud. It was so loud that it was almost hard to hear herself think.

It was all too much, too distracting, that it was easy to be oblivious to just how overwhelming it all was.

“On top of that, you have me. I’m an unknown. You might know my name, but you know almost nothing else about me.” Sedam quietly chuckled, and the sound felt like the haze swimming around Figura’s head. “The air is filled with smoke. A girl like you? I can’t imagine you smoke. I can’t imagine you deal with it very much. That’s just one more thing for you to keep track of—one more thing to make it that much more different.

“And that’s when you aren’t even considering the way each moment is a new opportunity for someone to enter the bar, so you need to watch for the entrance… or the door for the bathroom… or maybe there’s someone hidden away behind the bar, waiting for you to lower your guard.”

Figura quietly groaned.

“How many things is that now, hmm? Are you sure you haven’t lost track of anything—or anyone?” Sedam’s taunting voice was the perfect, mocking tone to pick at the side of her psyche. “The smoke… the bar… my beer… the people around us… the music… the smoke…? Did you forget the smoke…? Or maybe, did you forget these, Figura…? Did you forget my breasts…? I’d just hate if you forgot those…”

She moved the glass in front of her chest again, and Figura’s eyes twitched. Something about the way the other woman was speaking was able to cut through all of the noise in the bar without blocking it out. Figura was still being overwhelmed by the sounds, by the people, by the smoke, by all of it…

But Sedam was so easy to hear.

Listening to what Sedam had to say wasn’t difficult at all.

I… that’s… One… two… three… Her lips moved as she tried to count. Her mind was going too slow. She couldn’t keep her inner monologue working without moving her lips.

“Oh, you really need to keep up, Figura!” Sedam laughed, knocking away all of the effort Figura had spent trying to order her disjointed thoughts. “Did you lose track of my breasts? The thing in your hand? Your own breasts? My drink? The music? The smoke? You look so dizzy. Those cute little sounds you’re making sound so dizzy…”

“S-stop…” Figura quietly whimpered, her eyes fluttering. She was holding something, but she couldn’t remember what. Her hand released the case, dropping it down on the floor as it rose up to rest against her forehead. “You’re… You’re doing something, saying something… I…”

Sedam scoffed. “I’m just doing one thing. Trying to see if you can concentrate on what’s happening. Can you even pay attention to two things? Are you so shameful, so worthless, that you can’t even keep track of the bathroom doors, the entrance, the band, the people behind you… and my voice…?”

“That… that’s not two… It’s not… I’m… You’re…” Figura whimpered, her eyes looking like they would cross if she weren’t actively willing them apart. Her fingers slid deeper into her black hair. “S…stop… Stop it…! You’re trying to confuse me, you’re—”

“And you definitely forgot that your body is just one touch away from sending you into overdrive.”

Figura hadn’t even noticed her legs drifting apart. She hadn’t paid any attention to the way she was leaving herself vulnerable to something like Sedam lifting her foot and pushing the very tip of her shoe right against the teal-and-blue fabric that tightly clutched her sex.

Her eyes widened, her breath turning frantic.

“Can you even think about one thing anymore, slut?” Sedam’s voice lowered again, becoming deeper, more intense. Even through the hot, burning lust that was quickly rushing out to cover Figura’s body, her mind could clearly hear each and every syllable. “My shoe. Your pussy. My voice. My breasts. Your nipples. The smoke. The band. Your brain smoking as your own lust melts your brain right out of your ears.”

Figura whined. She could feel it, her mind itself, pouring out of her ears. It’s dripping out… dripping out… just like my hot… needy… wet… pussy… her shoe… her breasts… my nipples… so hot… so hard, so…. Forgetting… Something… Forgetting… someone… Her hips couldn’t help but follow the rhythm of Sedam’s foot, grinding firmer and firmer into her leotard.

The touch was rough, without any tenderness at all… but tenderness wasn’t what Figura needed. She needed to be fucked. She needed to be used. Her whole body was burning up with lust, and she needed it to be sated more than anything else in the world.

Can’t… Can’t… Can’t remember…

Way… way more than seven…!

“Good girl, Figura. Grind against my foot.” Sedam’s voice was an almost soothing croon, reaching into some deep part of Figura’s mind that was desperate to be guided. “Listen to my voice. Look at me. Feel me. Let everything else around us fade away. They won’t make you feel like this. They can’t make you feel like this.

“Only I can.”

Around her, it almost felt as though the bar itself were withdrawing, pulling further and further away, leaving the two women alone in the middle of the world. There was still smoke and sound and people, but they were so much further away.

None of them mattered.

“Only you… only you can…”

“And only I will.” Sedam sighed, her foot pressing quicker, as Figura struggled to make her hips keep pace. She was able to move her hips in ways no other woman ever could, writhing forward as soon as she started to writhe back, but even she could barely match the pace with her mind so disjointed and runny like undercooked eggs. “Only I will make you feel good, while getting rid of those other things, those other people, those other distractions…

“You want that. You need that. You need things to be simpler. Easier. You need to be able to concentrate… to be able to focus…” Sedam purred, her lips rubbing together as her eyes hooded so low. “Don’t you?”

Figura whined, loud and sharp. “Yesss… Yess…! Need that… please… please…!”

Sedam purred, swaying the glass back and forth in front of her chest as her foot pressed firmer. “Good girl. All you need to do is watch the glass… and follow it. That’s right. Back and forth. Left and right. Left and right…” Figura couldn’t stop her eyes from following the glass, back and forth in front of her, again, and again, and again. It was an easy pattern—one that even her burnt-out mind could process.

“Up…” Sedam lifted the glass up, up, higher into the air, until it was right in front of her face.

Figura quivered, her mouth half open, her eyes looking so glassy and blank.

Left… right… left… right… Smoke… the band…? Her… her breasts… my pussy… Up… up and… what comes after—

“Down.”

Figura never saw the glass hit the table.