The Blue Viper Files Ch. 06

Betsy sighed as her free hand slithered between her legs, parting her lips and idly teasing her clit. This was a new high, something not even Madame Sasha had been able to make her feel. For months she'd been burning with hunger, but now she knew what it was she was starving for.

She gasped again, twitching a bit on the laundry room floor as she thought about all the ways she needed to reprogram Esther and the other women waiting for her at the party.

***

Sasha

"My what?"

Sasha smiled. She snapped, ordering Ben to bring them more drinks. "Elizabeth Rawlings? Beautiful television personality? Weather woman for channel six?"

Lindsey took a step back. "I've heard of her."

"More than heard of her, I think." Sasha stepped forward and then to the right, walking circles around Lindsey. "From what I hear, one could even call you girlfriends, couldn't they?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course not," said Sasha. "And after a short conversation, maybe I'll have no idea what I'm talking about either. Perhaps this is all just a nasty rumor Ben heard."

Sasha stepped behind Lindsey, putting her hands on the blonde's shoulders and leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Or perhaps it's a fire I could flame. Think about it." Sasha gripped Lindsey's shoulder tighter. "A room full of your colleagues, of some of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the city, are all downstairs. What would they do if they knew their conservative and traditional district attorney was eating pussy whenever she could?"

Lindsey said nothing, but she didn't tighten, didn't recoil. "Who told you?"

"Benjamin."

"Who told him?"

Sasha released Lindsey's shoulders and continued circling around her prey, trailing one finger lovingly over the fine dress Lindsey wore, letting her nail tease the skin whenever she could.

"Secrets," whispered Sasha. "Though I could tell you if you were interested in my trade."

"I'll figure it out."

"Perhaps you will, but you won't deny it?"

"I'm not sure what good that will do."

"You don't quit. I admire that."

"I accept realities."

"From what I hear, you accept Elizabeth's reality most of all."

Lindsey stiffened. "What?"

"Would you prefer I call her Mistress?" Sasha's smile widened. "Like you do?"

***

Betsy

Betsy's thighs quivered as Esther finished her second orgasm. The hypnosis made training her incredibly easy. She already knew Betsy's pussy better than Ben. Jesus, she may already know Betsy's pussy better than Betsy herself. Esther pulled away, gasping for air, and curled up against Betsy.

For a moment, she didn't know what to do with her. Esther belonged to her; that was undeniable. But she was spent, exhausted. What does one do with their toy when they're done with them? Put them away? Is that what was left? Clean up?

But whatever beast Madame Sasha had woken up was still hungry. Esther was used, but there were other women, other toys and projects waiting for her.

"Pet?" asked Betsy, shaking Esther's head. The older woman stirred and sat up.

"Yes, Goddess?" she asked, her chin covered with Betsy's juices.

"Go find Mary Anne and bring her to me."

"Yes, Goddess."

Esther got up to leave. "Wait." Esther turned around. "Put your clothes on and wipe your face."

"Yes, Goddess," said Esther.

"Actually." Betsy smirked and climbed to her feet. Her body was tired, but she was still hungry. There were so many more women to fuck tonight. She stepped up to Esther and pulled the blonde's mouth down to her breast, down to the red lace letters. Esther started kissing immediately, sucking on the skin as though she could drain the ink with enough effort. Betsy sighed with relief and stroked Esther's hair.

"Don't wipe your face," commanded Betsy. "You look better this way."

"Yes, Goddess," moaned Esther between kisses.

Betsy pulled Esther away by the hair. Her bitch didn't complain. "Go," she commanded. "Get Mary Anne and Peggy. I'll take them both at once."

Esther quickly pulled her dress up the length of her body, but it was sloppily done. The plunging neckline was a delicate thing, and Betsy smirked knowing half the party was about to see Esther's tits and wander about her smeared lipstick and slick chin.

Not that she cared so much what any of them thought. It was strange to pick at her mind and find complete apathy for Ben's opinion of her. And as she kept picking at it, she found that she didn't care what Madame Sasha thought either. If her Mistress wanted to fuck her, to break her, Betsy would gladly comply. But until then, Madame Sasha ignored her, so why shouldn't she return the favor?

For once in Betsy's life, she only had one person's plans as the center of her attention: hers. And they were going to be delicious. She knew she'd savor each depraved moment of her descent.

***

Sasha

"And what, exactly, do you want from me?" asked Lindsey when Sasha finished explaining most of what she knew. "Some favors when I'm in office? Or maybe some friend of yours I'm about to prosecute."

"Please," said Sasha, holding up a hand. "You insult me. I'm no criminal."

"Blackmail is—"

"No one is blackmailing you. I want you to know what I know. I want to help you. If I know it, others do. We can't have that for your campaign, can we?" Sasha gestured to the edge of Ben and Betsy's bed. "Please, sit."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I want you to win."

"And then?"

Sasha dismissed the comment with a wave. "Politics have jaded you."

"Life has jaded me. Everyone wants something. Is this an opportunity or a trap?"

"This is the beginning of a business relationship. I want both of us to profit."

"I'm not going to agree to a deal without terms. I want—"

"How about this?" asked Sasha. "I have a party to attend to." She turned to the dresser and turned on the television Ben set up for her. A black screen came on, but there was a thin blue line cutting through the center. It was Sasha's masterpiece, a file much more subversive and gripping than anything she had on her site. "You watch this video about my company, and if you like what you see, then we'll start working together. Fair?"

"Your company?"

"Yes," said Sasha with a smile. "The Blue Viper Foundation."

"What is—"

Sasha turned out the lights. "The video will explain everything."

Sasha started the video and closed the door. There were a dozen important people here tonight, and Lindsey Sterling was only the first.

***

Betsy

"Fuck!" shrieked Mary Anne. "Harder! Fuck me harder!"

Betsy took a deep breath, trying to concentrate. Her wrist burned as she pumped the dildo deep into Mary Anne's pussy. Her arm tingled and begged for her to stop, but she couldn't. Not yet. Mary Anne was close to cumming again, and Betsy enjoyed the way her whole body shivered after an orgasm.

Most of the party-goers had left. Ben was somewhere out there cleaning it up or entertaining the lingering guests, but Betsy wasn't done with Mary Anne or Esther. The two women were spent, their bodies glistening with sweat, their chests heaving from the workout, but Betsy wasn't going to stop. She couldn't stop. She knew Peggy was out there, that Esther had convinced her to stay, and when she was done with Mary Anne, she was going to fuck Peggy too. Hell, maybe she'd fuck anyone else out there. She didn't care anymore. She didn't discriminate. It's not like they didn't know what they were doing here. Esther said they stared at her when she went to get Mary Anne and talked to Peggy. By now the whole party knew Betsy was taking women into her laundry room to fuck them, but they were all too polite to say anything. They pretended to ignore the thudding of the dryer against the wall. They pretended they couldn't hear Esther's moans.

But no one could ignore Mary Anne. She wasn't just a moaner, she was a shrieker and a talker. Betsy was surprised to find that she didn't have to do much peeling to find Mary Anne's inner slut beneath the surface. In fact, she'd barely gotten to any of the good programming with the dark-haired girl, but she knew she could have her tonight, that she could fuck her stupid when she saw that underneath the suburban housewife attire, Mary Anne was covered in tattoos: over her chest, underboob, a sleeve on one arm, tattoos on her belly trailing away from her pussy and thighs. Her belly button and the hood of her clit were pierced. She was practically a pornstar underneath turtlenecks and oversized sweaters.

No wonder she took to the programming so eagerly.

Betsy pulled the dildo out of Mary Anne and stood up, catching her breath. She snapped her fingers at Esther. "Eat her out." Esther moved quickly, putting her head between Mary Anne's legs and licking aggressively.

"Oh come on," whined Mary Anne, but her voice was thick with mockery. "Fuck me. You said you wanted to fuck me." She laughed, and Betsy looked at her, whipping her head around to glare at her.

"Shut up," she snapped.

"Come on. Can't you fuck me hard?" Mary Anne ground her hips in Esther's face. "Or is this little cunt the best I'm going to get?"

Rage bubbled up in Betsy. No one had ever talked to her that way. Ben had always been doting and submissive. Even Madame Sasha talked to her like a lover, like a prized thing. No one made her feel like she wasn't good enough in bed, like she was anything less than a precious and rare thing.

"Fuck you," she said coldly, clenching her hands. The burning in her wrist and tingle in her arm faded as adrenaline and anger flooded her system.

"Why don't you?" Mary Anne's smile widened. "Or are you too tired?"

Betsy's mind softened, as though the thoughts rushing through her were blurry. She knew she was thinking something, but it was far away, fuzzy and muted. It felt almost like going into a trance, like watching the Blue Viper Files and seeing Madame Sasha rub the "sleep" tattoo. Her body moved without her thinking, without hesitation, and she stepped past Esther, over Mary Anne, and slapped the filthy back-talking cunt as hard as she could.

She froze, her thoughts stabbing her, catching up to her body. What the hell was she doing? What was she thinking? Why would she—

Mary Anne moaned and brought her hand to her cheek. "Yeah, baby," she said, her voice breathy. "Like that."

Betsy smiled and grabbed a fistful of Mary Anne's hair. Her new slut yelped at first but then eased into a long moan. "You want it hard?" asked Betsy.

"Yes."

Betsy squeezed, pulling the woman up by the scalp. "Yes, what?"

Mary Anne shrieked in pain. "Yes, Mistress."

"You want to get fucked hard?"

"Yes, Mistress."

Betsy snapped, and Esther stopped licking Mary Anne's pussy. "Twist her nipples," commanded Betsy. "Hard."

Mary Anne's smile widened. "I cum first," said Betsy. "That clear?"

"Yes, Mistress," said Mary Anne, and Betsy pulled her newest plaything into her pussy.