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Edge, Chapter Twenty-Four: Angela

Callback note: This chapter features an appearance by Angela, the main character of Doppelgänger. It also references events that took place in that story. While it isn't necessary to have read this story, it does provide reference and knowledge concerning events that transpire over the next few chapters of Edge.

Angela from Doppelgänger by Tori Hamlin

Jenna’s body ached all over as she fought for awareness through a haze of arousal and thick, groggy fog. It was dark and she had no idea where she was. She rubbed at her eyes, heard Kara groan, and finally, she found the strength to sit up. A wave of relief washed over her as she realized that they were no longer in Lain’s torture chamber. They were in the back of Jenna’s car, outside, but no longer near the cabin.

“Kara?” Jenna said, shaking her naked friend.

“Hmm?” Kara replied, sleepily.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” Kara hissed, sitting up and looking around in confusion. “Where are we?”

Jenna shook her head, swiped up her HUD and took stock. She assumed that one of Lain’s thugs had driven the car somewhere and left them. The map showed them well outside of the city, still, parked in a secluded field.

“Anywhere is better than… that,” Jenna said.

“You… are you alright?” Kara asked.

Jenna nodded, settled back in the seat and said, “Erin, take us to the shop.”

The car started up and hummed, bumping along over the uneven field until it pulled out onto a dirt road and accelerated.

“Jesus Christ,” Kara swore, “What the fuck was that?”

“Not any church I want to be part of,” Jenna said tiredly.

She stopped her recording and submitted it to the server, watching as Kara did likewise.

“I honestly do not feel bad about blackmailing this guy,” Kara said, slumping in the seat.

Jenna had to agree. She rested her head on Kara’s shoulder and said, “I’m sorry… for what I had to do back there.”

“It wasn’t up to you,” Kara said, finding her hand, “Sometimes, this game sucks.”

“All the fucking time,” Jenna said.


Jenna and Kara found Leanna laying on a couch in their makeshift headquarters. Jess lay sprawled on another, dead to the world.

“Shit,” Leanna exclaimed, taking stock of their exhausted faces, the bruises on their bare tits, wrists, and ankles, “What the fuck happened to you?”

Jenna shook her head, which was surprisingly clear of fuck fog. Apparently, even the Recoder effects could be quelled by a long session of torture and forced orgasms. The two of them collapsed on the couch, blessedly free of the belts for the next three days, and now at rank thirty-one. They heard Leanna bustling about in their improvised kitchen, and a moment later she brought them each a steaming bowl of soup.

“Thank you,” Kara said wearily, cradling the steaming stuff in her hands.

“Tough challenge, I take it?” Leanna asked.

“Let’s not talk about it,” Jenna said, “Any news on my contract, or this Recoder thing?”

Leanna nodded, “The contract is a pretty standard slave arrangement, but it’s perpetual. If you agree to it, you’re essentially giving up your human rights. Harder owns you.”

That was not the news that Jenna wanted to hear. In one day, she’d have to decide if she was going to sacrifice herself for the good of the other girls, or try to fight back. Unless, there was another option, like getting Harder to fuck himself.

“There is some good news, though,” Leanna continued, and Jenna raised her brows, “Harder is an emotional fuckhead. Either he didn’t know about the rule, or he’s just such an egotistical prick that he thought he could get away with it.”

“What?” Jenna asked, setting her bowl aside.

Leanna grinned, “The belts are one of the primary means of control for the game. Stealing one is a big deal. Think about it. If a player ditches their belt, they have to be given a new one. If they ditched it of their own volition, that means forcibly tracking them down and getting them back in line. If someone stole it, and the player reported it and came back to the game willingly, that’s good on you and bad on the thief. It means dispatching an Enforcer, like the one you met, and that is something that is, apparently, frowned upon. You have the right to submit a penalty request.”

Jenna was shocked. She had rights?

“What does that mean?” she asked.