Content warning for heavy drug use, heavy non-consent, explicit sex, choking, and specifically some limited violence from cis male character against cis female characters. The last paragraphs of this story may contain spoilers for the Feldavian Nights series of stories.
Real life kink requires a lot of negotiation and communication.
***
Maldred checked the veil was still in his back pocket, as he tried to blend in among the backstage staff in the corridors. He'd managed to pick up one of the musician's stools, and carried it back, roughly in the same direction the people carrying instruments had gone. This was quite an operation they had here. Maybe a dozen musicians, a dozen waiters, security, the dancers of course, and then a small platoon of hired help walking the halls.
On the second trip, music stand in hand, he spotted it. Pink door, at the end of a corridor, and a simple torchlit tunnel between him and them. No security back here, and the drink and partying in the lounge seemed to be making enough noise that they could talk in private.
Maldred ducked into the corridor, and tried to look nonchalant as he plucked the veil from his pocket and strung it across his face. It clung unnaturally to the ridges of his jaw and cheeks, forming a surprisingly clean seal around his mouth and nose. Equipment like this can't be cheap, he noted, and even filling the club every night at 3 crowns a head wouldn't pay for enough to fit all the staff. He made a mental note to return the veil to the waitress, Cassie, before leaving. After she'd been so helpful tipping him off to the location of the dancers' dressing room, and their connection to the owner, the last thing he wanted is for her to get fired for losing it.
That'd have to come later, he thought, as he gently tested the door handle. Not locked. He wasn't too surprised, they didn't seem to be too worried about their modesty after that show.
That'd have to come later, he thought, as he gently tested the door handle. Not locked. He wasn't too surprised, they didn't seem to be too worried about their modesty after that show.
Maldred paused, taking a deep breath, and muttering to himself under his breath, "They're just performers, common criminals at best, it's just a few fancy tricks. You're trained for this." Puffing his chest out, he turned the handle and slipped quickly through into the small room beyond, closing the door swiftly behind him. He burst into his prepared speech, as he took in his surroundings.
Honey and Wine were sat, drinks in hand, looking overtly startled at the stranger who had just burst in unannounced.
"Excuse me, I'm here on official business, and I need to speak with you."
The room was small, barely 12 feet across, low ceiling, no other exits. Two polished metal poles seemed to hold up the low cave-like roof.
"I need to be clear that I'm here on behalf of the department of interior security, investigating crimes of kidnap, and all citizens are required to comply with our investigation of face divine and physical judgment."
The furnishings were nice, stone floor covered in thick rugs, exotic drapes around the edges of the room, and one length of the room dominated by a floor to ceiling mirror. A small fire burned in a narrow hearth by the sofa the two dancers were lounging on.
"With all that in mind, I must ask you to remain seated and present any weapons you have concealed upon your..."
He paused, realising how foolish this would sound. The two performers were still in their stage costumes, more or less. Besides the shoulder-length arm-wraps and waist-high tights, they were entirely nude.
"... concealed upon your person.... or to hand." he added, trying to sound more reasonable.
The two performers laughed, as if at some inside joke, before the one introduced as Honey answered him. "Well, that's the first time a fan has tried a line like that! Are you trying to get in to see us without paying sweetie?"
"Uh, no. This is quite serious, and I'm not here as a fan."
Wine shifted in her sofa, appraising him as she crossed her legs modestly, "Oh, you seemed to be enjoying yourself when I dropped by you and Cassie during the show..." she gave him a knowing grin.
"I'm undercover." he grunted, tersely.
"Sure you are, and we're criminal masterminds who you've tracked down to some shady underground lair." Honey mocked, "You know we usually charge extra for roleplay, Darling?"
They both laughed as Maldred rolled his eyes. Ok, he hadn't really thought about fans or customers trying something like this, it would have never occurred to him as worth trying. Especially as the penalty for impersonation was a season's imprisonment. He hadn't brought any identifying marks as his plan had been... he frowned. His plan was to quietly observe, not to question anyone, though it was too late to turn back now.
"I assure you, ladies, I am quite serious. Several known patrons, and one of your former employees, have all gone missing in the last few weeks, and this venue is the only thing each missing person had in common. There may be people's lives in danger, and it is most important that we try to find them. I am simply here to ask you both a few questions. Is that clear?"
He hoped, quietly, that sounding official enough, along with the few scant details given, would be enough to at least have them take it seriously.
Honey and Wine both looked at each other, still wearing the same inside joke as they laughed. "Very well. Since you're so cute, we'll spare you a few minutes for free!" Honey said, shifting aside and patting the cushions between them, "Please, have a seat."
Maldred swallowed, perhaps a little too noticeably, as he took in the sight. This wasn't the usual investigation he was sent on. He usually handed sensitive church matters, the Priest pocketing coins from the church coffers, or the bishop with a boy on the side, he'd only been brought in on the Rifter magic investigations recently, as extra help. The raunchiest inquiry he'd had until now was a couple with a forbidden piece of literature that had a few choice illustrations. But now... he was presented with two stunningly beautiful women, still in their costumes and illusory colours (Honey still appeared somewhat pink, and Wine a deeper purple), inviting him to sit with them.
He adjusted his stance, shaking his head as calmly as he could. "Thank you, I prefer to stand. First of all, can I ask your names?"
"Oh, I'm Honey, and that's Wine!" Honey laughed, taking a long sip of her drink, "But you already knew that. You're not the best investigator if you can't remember that!"
Maldred scowled, "I mean your real names. What do I call you? For example, I am detective Smithie."
Honey, reached for an unlabelled bottle on the table beside her and topped up her drink, "Oh, we don't mind if you call us by our stage names, after all, we like to get into character for our shows! I mean, our customers certainly like us this way, wouldn't you?"
"I... it doesn't matter what I think... Honey." Maldred winced at the overly familiar name. It was hard to keep a straight face whilst calling someone an affectionate pet name like that.
The two of them giggled. They must have drunk quite a bit of that, he reasoned. Or perhaps Wine's... enhancements, were having an effect on Honey? He was glad to be wearing the protective veil now, given how confined the small room was. He turned to Wine, who seemed to be the more sober, or at least composed, of the two.
