Sage was thankful when they let her out of the back of the van. The stench of the guards and the diesel, the sound of the engine, all of the sensations had been driving her to distraction. That was only to be expected, considering what was in her bloodstream. She barely noticed that she was naked.
But now she was outside, in what she quickly realised to be a forest, things were a lot clearer. It was easier to focus, there weren’t as many strong, pungent odours, and her mind was sharpening once again.
Sage had spent the entire journey fuming and furious, the urge to hurt someone building in her until she thought she would explode, and with the regained mental clarity she realised just who it was that she should be directing this at.
Emma Frost. The fucking White Queen. They had been opponents during their time in the Hellfire Club, but Sage had still managed to save her life, at great personal cost. And how did that bitch pay her back? By setting her up and handing her back to the club. Sage set off through the forest, determined to find her way out of this and get back to the mansion. Heaven help Frost when she caught up with her, because there was going to be hell to pay.
The guards had left her in a small clearing, with a dirt track leading out of it, but Sage knew better than to head in that direction, she knew how these games were played. She had, after all, had a hand in designing more than her fair share of them during her time with Shaw. Instead, she headed in the opposite direction, intending to head deeper into the forest before looping around and doubling back towards the road.
She had been walking for exactly 15 minutes, almost enjoying the sensations that the sensory enhancements were affording her, when she heard the clanking of chain links. It broke through the idyllic noise of the forest like a bell tolling, and piqued her interest. It might, she reasoned, be someone that knew the area, and data was data.
Moving cautiously, aware that it could just as easily be a Hellfire trap, Sage entered another clearing, and what she found there made her smile. Discounting the fact that it was definitely a Hellfire set-up, Sage found herself looking down at Emma Frost, staked out and inhibited, in full White Queen regalia. It was perfect. This, she thought, was an ideal opportunity.
****
Emma had come too, to find herself outside, in a small clearing. She was once again dressed, in her Hellfire clothing, of al things. She was still restrained, and she winced in pain as she tried to shift, the fabric of her cloak was rubbing against the raw, weeping brand. Damn Shaw and his petty machismos. Pushing outward with her mind, she realised that she was also still wearing the inhibitor collar.
She didn’t know how much time had passed since she had fallen unconscious, and staked out with no access to a clock or watch meant that time rapidly lost all meaning.
It could have been ten minutes, or ten hours from when she awoke to when she heard the foliage moving near her left side. Emma prayed that it wasn’t a wild animal, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was Tessa, who emerged into the clearing and stood looking at her. Tessa, who appeared completely unfazed about being naked.
Emma sighed in exasperation, and when Tessa didn’t make a move to release her snapped out, “Tessa, darling, if you’ve quite finished admiring the view, would you be a pet and release me from these?” For extra emphasis, she rattled the restraints slightly, not noticing the narrowing of Tessa’s eyes of the grin that spread across her face. Not until she spoke.
“No.” It was almost purred, a complete opposite to her normal cool tones, and Emma looked at her in surprise, noticing a few inconsistencies in the way that Tessa was reacting.
“Now isn’t the time to play around, Tessa. This is a Hellfire club set up and we need to get out of here.” She tried.
“You’d know all about set ups, wouldn’t you Emma.” Tessa stalked towards Emma, and Emma fought down a sudden wave of fear. This wasn’t like Tessa at all, and it was unsettling because it looked like she was scenting the air. “I like your fear Emma, it smells divine…” she laughed, kneeling beside her.
“Tessa, what…” Emma wasn’t expecting the sharp, strong slap that cut her off, or the back-handed one that followed it. Looking up in shock and finally able to see Tessa’s eyes properly, Emma realised that something in them was missing.
****
Tessa. That name echoed around Sage’s head and brought with it a rush of unbidden memories, all of them revolving around Emma’s use of that name. Tessa. How she hated it.
Looking at the shock on Emma’s face she smiled again. The white bitch hadn’t been expecting that, no, she had expected Sage to fall back into old behaviour patterns and obey her every whim. Well, not this time. She was free of all that now, free of the rigid confines of the club and, out here; she was free even of the constraints of being an X-Man. It was just Sage and Emma, and Sage was the one in control this time.
Coming out of the drug induced haze of thoughts and half-grasped memories, Sage realised that she had been hitting Emma, and if the already developing splits and bruises were anything to go by it had been quite a beating. She was sad that she had missed doing it.
Another smile crossed her lips as Emma whimpered, such a delicate and delicious sound. Admiring her handiwork, Sage realised that all of the blows had been centred on those areas most likely to cause pain.
“What are you on,” Emma managed to spit at her, the blood from her split lip was running down her cheek, and Sage had the overwhelming urge to lick it off of her. “We’re on the same side, and I don’t expect you to obey me,” it sounded like Emma’s usually haughty tones, but she could tell with her enhanced hearing that Emma was scared.
Sage realised that while she had been lost in the haze she had been saying everything out loud, and that Emma now knew what she was thinking. Shaking off the feeling that this should worry her she continued playing with her prey.
“You gave me back to the club Emma, and quite frankly whatever happens between us here is nothing more than you deserve.” She sneered down at Emma, not even attempting to hide the slight lecherous cast to her face, “and I owe you so very much.” She leant down further and kissed Emma hard, causing a whimper of pain from the already split lips.
Emma pulled away from her as much as the ground allowed and looked up at her incredulous and disbelieving, but underneath the rapidly thinning veneer of arrogance Sage could see the fear, could even smell it hot and spicy on Emma’s skin.
“Just what do you think you are doing Tessa,” she felt her face harden at Emma’s tone and she tensed to strike her again, which she was sure Emma picked up on, as the next statement was much different. “This isn’t like you Sage, please...”
Sage cut her off with another hard backhand. “None of your whining Emma, not now. You can beg me later, but first,” Sage changed her position so that instead of being beside Emma she was straddling her chest. “First I want you to serve me, bitch.”
Emma’s look was comical to say the least, and Sage threw her head back and laughed, a sound so unlike her normal restrained chuckle, tinged with madness. She wasn’t restrained now, that was the whole point, and she felt so good despite something in the back of her mind whispering that it wasn’t like her to act this way.
Below her Emma started to struggle against her bonds, but Sage knew it was futile. Whoever had tied them had been a master and she wouldn’t be getting out of them unless Sage released her. Sage had no intention of doing that until she was satisfied, which wasn’t happening.
She slapped Emma again, once more for the fun of it and because Emma had never been merciful to her. “I said serve me,” she growled before dipping into another crushing kiss. Emma would serve her, this was her revenge and she would get what she wanted from it.
Pulling back she shifted position again, lowering herself over Emma’s face. Emma would have no choice but to serve her, or she would suffocate and if Emma even thought about biting, well… Sage held back a feral grin; they all knew what happened to those who bit.
She gasped as Emma started to suckle and lick, her tongue as skilled as Sage had hoped. This was revenge, sweet revenge and she was enjoying it almost too much. She gasped again as Emma slipped her tongue inside, deep and hot, the sensations doubled by the sensory enhancers Sebastian had given her.
Pushing thoughts of him aside, she wanted to enjoy this after all, Sage focused again on the sensations she was getting from Emma’s mouth on her. Soon she was coming hard, grinding herself into Emma’s face cutting off her air completely.
Sighing as the orgasm ended she settled for a moment and watched as Emma’s eyes widened at finding herself still deprived of air. Watching carefully, revelling in the sensations of holding the White Queen’s life in her hands and Emma’s renewed struggles, she waited until she saw the first signs of a blackout before moving.
Settling back beside Emma, Sage caught a glint of something familiar tucked into Emma’s tall boot and a harsh grin crossed her face as she reached for it.
****
Sebastian laughed to himself as he watched Sage force Emma to serve her from the tiny camera he’d had planted. This was exactly the retribution he had wanted, and the further from her normal controlled self Sage went the closer she got to being his again.
His laughter doubled as he watched Sage discover the knife he’d tucked into Emma’s boot. He knew Sage would recognise the knife; he’d been surprised to find it in Emma’s former apartment, and he’d planted it deliberately to push the feral rage further. He wanted his money’s worth from this little set up and boy was he getting it.
Sebastian turned his full attention back to the screen, intent on seeing how his game played out, and enjoying every minute of it.