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The Bitch Queen update
🕑 Added 2021-04-16 23:00:02 +0000 UTCScott came into the suite he shared with Emma texting on his phone, sending last-minute reminders and notices and corrections even though the workday was over. It took him a moment, fixated on the bright screen, to notice that the lights were dim, though he felt Emma’s presence.
He looked for her first in the bedroom, where she was sprawled out under the sheets, all but her bare shoulders and arms covered under the gossamer blanket. It was sheer enough for him to make out the voluptuous shape of her underneath, the vivid suggestion of her curves waiting like a present to be unwrapped. Emma’s golden hair lay on the pillow, a hair clip in it, and Scott knew that was the only thing she wore besides her omnipresent make-up.
“Oh, no, no, no,” she chided, looking at him. “Put the phone away. The X-Men have had you for long enough. Now I get you.”
“And you’re welcome to me,” Scott said, obediently putting his phone aside. He reached up to unknot his tie. “What’s the occasion? Or do you just want more—“
Emma coughed before he could go on any further. That night of taunting and teasing Scott until he’d given Emma, perhaps, what she’d been asking for all along—it hadn’t been the last time they’d experimented with bondage. Emma couldn’t help herself. She tried not to think about it, tried to go back to their normal routine, but Scott only had to offer to spank her or choke her or just tangle his hand in her hair, ready to pull it, and Emma was enthusiastically giving into being his bitch.
And Emma knew Scott only made his entreaties because she hungered for it. She could admit to being somewhat addicted to the brand of rough, violent sex that required her submission, but she hardly wanted to get into all that while Betsy was present.
Not that Emma was exactly sure Betsy was there. Between her ninja skills and her telepathic prowess, Emma couldn’t detect hide or hair of Betsy. But she knew intuitively that Betsy was still there, hiding quietly, just as she’d been invited to. Emma had seen the look on Betsy’s face, spying Scott’s endowment and hearing her offer, and it was not the look of a woman who would be saying no.
“I want you naked,” Emma said, lying back, the ponderous weight of her breasts barely sagging, but making a dense impression through the sheets that covered her. Emma even subtly pulled them taut across her chest, letting her nipples show through the thin satin. “Then we can discuss what you want.”
Scott tossed his tie aside. “Aren’t you going to put on some music?” he quipped.
“You’re not the dancing type,” Emma reminded him. “But you could think of me while you’re taking off that suit I was so good to flatter your body with. How I look under this sheet. How I’ll feel when you’re inside me. What you’re going to do to me to make sure I stay yours.”
Scott chuckled, but Emma’s proposal worked. He speedily shed his jacket, then unbuttoned his shirt, then losing his belt—leaving a trail of discarded clothing across the floor as he slowly padded up to the bed. Emma lavishly enjoyed the sight of him being exposed. As nice as the suit she’d bought him was, it was very hard to improve on Scott’s naked body.
She bit her lip as he shucked his trousers down his long legs. Scott’s erection throbbed angrily, a big red beast befitting his heroic codename. Emma idly wondered about fucking Scott while he was sheathed in a tuxedo, everything wrapped up in Italian silk except for that massive cock; her, of course, wearing nothing but jewelry. It was an intriguing fantasy, but Emma was too magnanimous to deny Betsy the sight of Scott naked, so long as she was Emma’s guest.
Scott finished disrobing as he arrived at the side of the bed. The man was so efficiently businesslike, he managed to pull off his socks in a no-nonsense way. The very way it didn’t at all embarrass him was endearing to Emma.
He moved to draw back the sheets and Emma held up a hand to stop him, her palm a few inches from his cockhead, able to feel the heat coming off his girthy erection. “I have a surprise for you,” she announced playfully.
Scott looked over her naked body, vividly outlined by the bed’s tangled sheets. “I can’t imagine where.”
Emma beamed at him, almost cooing. She still wasn’t much for the X-Men’s familial good cheer, but she enjoyed moments like this, gifting someone something much desired—if only because it reflected well on her own taste and astuteness. “Close your eyes.”
“Emma,” Scott said warningly, and in that one word, Emma felt his familiar dominance of her storm through her body. He wasn’t subservient to her—he could take her whenever he wished—and him humoring her as he did now was, in a way, like a cat playing with a mouse.
It was enough to make Emma not want to share him after all; to be the only one worthy, able to take his commands, obey his will, fulfill his desires. But Emma was committed now and if there was one thing a Frost didn’t do, it was hesitate or second-guess.
“Believe me, Scott. I wouldn’t deprive you of the sight of me without a good reason.”
Scott obligingly closed his eyes—Emma could tell by his ruby quartz sunglasses dimming slightly, now no longer holding in the optic blasts continuously streaming from his eyes—and Betsy took her cue excellently. She slipped down from the rafters… so that’s where she’d been… and made her way to the bed.
Betsy hadn’t bothered to strip naked or dress in some of the elegant lingerie that Emma might’ve favored; perhaps not wanting to strike too obscene a note with Scott on this ‘first date’ or perhaps sensing that there was little she could do to improve on her skimpy costume when it came to arousing a man.
Completely soundless (Emma could barely even hear her thoughts) the ninja climbed onto the bed with Emma, who dutifully pulled back the sheets. Scott heard the rustle, and it brought a smile to his lips, but Betsy sliding next to Emma didn’t get a whisper out of the bedsprings. And that was something, considering how Emma and Scott had abused that mattress over the course of their relationship.
With the sheets pulled back, Emma was totally exposed, but not for long. She cuddled up behind Betsy, pressing her breasts into the woman’s back, hiding her sex behind Betsy’s creamy ass. Sandwiching their bodies together made for the ultimate temptation… or rather, they would be sandwiched together once Scott decided which side of the bed he’d prefer to sleep on.
Well? Betsy teeped from her position as little spoon. Aren’t you going to let him see our little pose? Don’t tell me you want a quickie before we let him join in—I can’t bloody wait any longer!
I just thought you’d appreciate a nice long look at his flesh in the flesh before we get started, Emma teeped back. That cock’s certainly not going to be out in the open much once we begin.
I can feel how hot you are on my fanny. Feels like I’m blushing—like I’ve been spanked.
Trust me, that doesn’t feel anything like being spanked in this bedroom. Emma quickly licked Betsy’s cheek, relishing the jolt of surprise that went through the ninja’s body, before she looked up at Scott’s face. “Surprise!”
Scott opened his eyes, and despite his keen tactical mind, he was completely blindsided by this being Emma’s surprise. But even as his mind was taken by surprise, his body reacted. His cock was already tantalized onto the verge of climax by the veritable striptease of Emma’s sexuality, her words and motions and the way she carried herself making her a walking lapdance, and now the addition of Betsy to the mix made it all completely irresistible. He didn’t come, his self-control was far beyond embarrassing mishaps like that, but his raging erection shot forth a sprig of precum impressively far, actually impacting the bedspread to Betsy’s surprise and Emma’s delight.
“Oh dear me, Scott!” she cooed in approving shock at the unintentional reaction. “We’re going to need to change the sheets now. I guess we might as well make the best of it… now that we don’t have to worry about leaving stains…”
Betsy recovered quickly as well. She was no stranger to men desiring her; it pleased her to find that Scott’s passion for her hadn’t cooled since their strange, abortive, but nonetheless intriguing flirtation. “I take it you approve, Mr. Summers.”
His Adam’s apple pitched in his throat. “I almost wish I could show you how much I approve…”
“Oh! Darling! How torrid!” Emma kissed Betsy’s cheek. “Look what he’s thinking, dearie, our bad boy…”
Betsy did, reaching out with her telepathy, following Emma’s own mental bond with Scott, and Scott opening his mind to her—allowing her to see a vision of him jerking off to this ultimate masturbatory material, selfishly grinding pleasure out of his turgid erection until he came, showering them both with his seed.
Betsy panted for a few breathless moments, shocked by the potency of Scott’s little fantasy, actually tempted by it—even if she’d never forgive herself for settling for something so paltry when all of Scott’s body was finally on the table.
Intimacy was a strange thing for a telepath. She’d never been that close to Emma, and the sexual temptation inherent in her friendship with Scott had always put them at a paradoxical distance for fear of giving into the unresolved tension between them. Yet now, all three of them sharing their desire for each other until they were equally immersed in it, Betsy felt like this was the culmination of some long, drawn out courtship—even while it had all the fun of casual sex done on a whim.
Truthfully, she didn’t care which it was. Mentality suddenly seemed very meaningless next to bodily urges and fulfillment.
For his part, Scott felt a smidgen of resentment over not being in on this ‘surprise.’ It smirked of Emma playing games, which normally he didn’t mind, but if she wanted to go tit-for-tat with her push-pull attraction to submission, especially with Betsy’s involvement, things could go real wrong. He didn’t need Emma and Betsy developing the kind of rivalry she’d had with Jean.
Then again, he had to admit, she hadn’t misjudged him yet. As wary as Scott was about suddenly being inside another teammate, he wasn’t about to turn Betsy down. He just wondered if Emma knew what she was getting into. She still seemed to be reeling from getting him to dominate her and her own mixed feelings over that. As blithe as Emma could be, the one thing she took very seriously was herself.
“Can I… get you anything?” he asked Betsy, resisting the urge to try and hide himself. Being admired by both Betsy and Emma was like some intoxicating kind of foreplay, stroking his ego. Betsy ogled him, licking her lips at the sight of his naked cock and muscular physique, while Emma delighted in how Betsy admired her man the same way she’d enjoy a woman envying her clothes her jewelry.
“I think Emma’s already gotten me what I want,” Betsy mewled, looking up into his eyes. “Hasn’t she?”
With her leering at him, Scott only felt natural in doing the same. In her tight-fitting leotard, running like one continuous brushstroke down from her neck, over her breasts, then across her pubis to wrap between her buttocks and go back up her muscular back to her neck, Betsy looked fantastic as always. Her elbow-length, fingerless gloves and thigh-high stockings, along with the bands of fabric stitched around her biceps and right beside her crotch, seemed to accentuate and flatter a body that would’ve been perfection all by itself. Her purple hair complimented her blue costume, a red sash finishing off the ensemble, its ribbon running down her bare flank like the beginning of the caress Scott so wanted to give her.
Normally, Scott wouldn’t allow himself to enjoy the view, even when it was that provocative. Not only was it unprofessional, but it’d be unfair to Emma. Now, though, with Emma seeming to get off on his surrender to the lustfulness of this rendezvous, he let himself drink in all of Betsy, her enticing body, her fetishistic costume, and her utter willingness to be his.
“Well, how do you like your present?” Emma husked, petting her hand down the curvature of Betsy’s figure. “I hope you don’t mind I got something we both could play with. I know it’s a little selfish of me, but—sometimes you seem to like it when I use your toys…”
Betsy jolted a little at the sound of Emma’s voice, like she’d been so preoccupied with taking in the sight of Scott’s naked body—and finally being seen as the lust object she’d longed to be to him—that she’d forgotten all about the White Queen.
Emma noticed: Careful, darling. Don’t start thinking you can have him all to yourself.
Of course not, dear. I’d just end up like you—needing to call in some help.
Dirty bitch… I knew there was a reason I liked you.
Besides my good taste in men?
“Something the matter?” Scott asked, stepping forward, stealing both women’s attention as his engorged cock loomed over them. Emma could’ve laughed at how Betsy virtually went cross-eyed looking at it… but she’d rather steal more looks at it herself.
He might not’ve been able to hear their psychic conversation, but he could see the microexpressions playing over their faces as they teeped to one another, and it wasn’t hard to tell what they were ‘talking’ about. “It seems to me that two strong-willed women such as yourselves—women used to getting what they want—might have a little trouble agreeing on what happens now. That you might prefer to be told what to do.”
Betsy grinned, quite charmed at the idea, even a little patronizing in response. “I think there are some things we can agree on.”
Emma felt a note of concern go through her. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, Braddock. But then, taking Betsy down a notch was rather the point of inviting her—along with elevating herself. “Yes, Betsy’s our guest. We should cater to her… sordid desires… that we all know she’s waited so long to indulge.”
“Fine by me,” Scott said, thinking that only a fool would screw up something this heavenly over who got to be on top. Then again, he could tell Emma was being her usual self, casually reminding Betsy that Scott was hers, that Betsy was only getting him because she was sharing him. It might prove a problem later on if he didn’t keep an eye on it. “Where do you want to start, Betts?”
“Where do you think?” Betsy said immediately. If she’d noticed Emma’s passive-aggressive little game, she was doing as Scott had done and ignoring it as Emma being Emma. “I want to see if that big cock tastes as good as it looks.”
“Oh, it does,” Emma assured her. “After all, it’s been in my cunt enough times.”
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