Whiteout Ch. 05

Val jolted awake when she heard her phone go off.

She picked it up off her nightstand, expecting it to be the alarm she set for herself. But instead, it was a call from Reuben. What the hell? He never calls me.

She tapped "accept" and held the phone up to her ear. "Hey?"

"Val," Reuben said, "we need you to talk to Sky Kennedy."

"Who?"

"The pop star. The one you tried to rescue, when..."

Val's drowsy mind took a second to make the connection. "Oh. Yeah, her. Why?"

"We're getting testimony against Blanc. Remember to take the tape recorder with you, get her on record."

"Fine. When's the interview?"

"In an hour."

"What?" Val sat up straight in her bed. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

"This is the only time I could get. I'm sorry."

Val groaned and rubbed her eyes. "But you're already up. Why can't you do it?"

"I figured it would make Sky more comfortable if she was opening up to someone who had the same experience. Anyway, you need to get ready. I'll text you a picture of her front gate. We're gonna have a group meeting at noon. See you later."

Reuben hung up. Val sighed and put her phone back on the nightstand. Yeah, sounds like a great plan. Throw the victim and her attacker's new fuck-buddy together, what could go wrong? She got out of bed and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower and stripping down while it heated up. She looked at herself in the mirror. Specifically one part of herself.

She remembered Weiss saying something about a hidden trigger last night. She thought it was just a ploy to get Val to take her top off, but now that she was actually naked, she realized she couldn't take her eyes off her breasts. She wasn't exactly obsessed with boobs, let alone her own, but for some reason she was completely fascinated with them right now. The way they caught the light, the way her erect nipples poked out of her supple flesh. She kept finding new things to admire about her tits. She was so focused on looking at them that she didn't realize she had stopped calling them breasts and started calling them tits, a word she normally thought was degrading and insulting. But she couldn't think of anything else to call them. Every other term for them was missing from her mind.

Suddenly, her hands reached up and grabbed her tits. She gasped, but then purred with delight at the way her tits felt. They felt so smooth, and round, and perfect in her hands. When she squeezed them, they sent pleasant tingles throughout her entire body. She closed her eyes and savored the sensation, swaying slightly as she groped and fondled her chest. She forgot about Reuben's call, she forgot about her interview with Sky, she forgot about the shower she was waiting on. She floated on a cloud of simple pleasures, her mind narrowed down to focus completely on her tits and how good they made her feel.

She barely registered the click sound. She opened her sleepy eyes and saw she was back in her bedroom, holding up her phone and taking a picture of herself massaging her tits. She saw her thumbs type out a message to someone, but paid it no mind. She felt too good to let something like that distract her.

It was only when her alarm finally went off that she snapped out of her reverie. She looked down at the floor, where her phone was blaring an electronic buzzer sound. She realized she'd spent half an hour fondling her breasts, and blushed profusely. What the hell was that? That's not like me. She looked at the time again and realized what else that signified. Oh, shit! I need to get ready!

* * *

The intercom clicked to life when Violet pushed the button. A small video screen next to the camera turned on, and an ex-military-looking man showed up. "Who're you?"

"Violet Angel, from Team Rainbow. I have an appointment."

He squinted at her. "You're late."

"Only got the call an hour ago, sir. This was all very last-minute. Surely you can still buzz me in?"

"...Alright, fine."

The screen switched off. The gate leading to the driveway opened up, and Violet walked down the long path to Sky's house. She fidgeted with the shoulder strap on the bag she carried. When she finally saw it, her jaw dropped. It looked like the Parasite house on steroids, a giant slab of modernism jutting out of the perfectly-manicured lawn. This place probably costs more than I'd make in 50 years of superhero work...

She got up to the front door and reached for the handle. Before she touched it, though, the man on the video screen opened it for her. "She's waiting in the sun room. Try to make it quick, she's pretty beat." He paused, looking at the bag Violet was carrying. "We need to search that."

"Fine." She handed him the bag.

As he searched through it, he frowned. "You really needed a bag just to carry this?"

"Do I look like I have pockets?"

"Hm. Alright." He handed her the bag. "You can go in."

The interior of the house was somehow even more impressive than the exterior. It reminded Violet of Raymond Hawthorne's apartment. That place was lavish, full of intricate detailing and furniture that gave an immediate impression of unimaginable wealth. But it also looked staid, a distinctly "old money" idea of affluence. Sky's house had none of that. The place was almost exclusively grey, the concrete walls left unpainted and raw. The only splashes of color were the light wood floors and small accents that looked like they were made from obsidian. Everything had hard, 90-degree angles, making the entire house look like it was made of boxes. There were almost no furnishings anywhere in the house from what Violet could see. It still looked like the house of someone with incalculable amounts of money, but also someone who wanted to look as modern as possible.

When Violet found her way to the sun room, she saw Sky lounging on a worn-looking couch. It was the one thing in the house that looked like something someone actually used. "Um, hello," Violet said.

Sky's head jerked upwards in surprise. "Huh? Oh, yeah, you're the hero lady. Come in, have a seat."

Violet looked around the room. The only things in it were the couch Sky was sitting on and a large TV attached to the far wall. "...where?"

Sky scooched down the couch a bit and patted the seat next to her. Violet shrugged and sat next to her, trying to keep a bit of distance so she didn't seem overly-friendly.

"Want anything?" Sky asked. "Coffee?"

"I'm good. Thanks. Sorry about how early this is, apparently this was the only time that worked with your schedule."

"For me, it's not early, it's late. I was out all night at a concert. I might pass out on you, so just poke me or something if that happens."

Violet nodded and pulled the tape recorder out of the bag. When she saw it, Sky snorted. "You guys still use those things?"

"PCPD uses them, so if we want them to use this as evidence-"

"Excuse me?" Sky looked concerned. "You're taking this to the cops?"

"Well, yes. We have to, if we want to actually prosecute Madame Blanc."

"Don't you hero-people just, like, throw criminals in jail?"

"It's not that simple. Technically, we're deputized private citizens. We can make arrests if we find someone committing a crime, and we can assist in investigations, but everything still has to go through the courts."

"Then this interview is over." Sky got up from the couch and started walking out of the room.

"Ms. Kennedy?"

"Eric will escort you out. Oh, wait, you're the teleporter, aren't you? Or are you the one with the zappy stuff?"

"I'm confused, don't you want Madame Blanc put away?"

"Yeah. But not like this."

"What do you mean?"

Sky stopped walking and sighed. "I wanted it done quietly. No press pounding at my door, no one questioning whether I was 'asking for it' on the news. I sure as hell don't need any more people speculating whether I'm gay online."

"So you'd let her walk free just so you could avoid some bad publicity?"

Sky turned around and glowered at her. "You're so lucky, you know. You get to hide. I can't."

Violet straightened out her back. "I'm not hiding."

"Bullshit. You wear that mask, you live in some anonymous building where no one will ever find you. You're one of the most famous people in the country, but you can walk down the street and no one will recognize you."

Violet didn't know how to respond to that. Sky wasn't wrong. She did have the luxury of anonymity when she went out in her civilian clothes. "But... that doesn't mean we shouldn't get justice for what happened to you."

Sky chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Wow, you even talk like someone out of the 30s."

"'Justice' isn't some outdated concept."

"Yeah, but your idea of it is. If 'justice' involves putting myself through hell, maybe even destroying the career I've spent my whole life working for?" She threw her hands up in resignation. "Then fuck that."

The two women sat there in silence for some time. Violet was the first one to speak up. "So you're not going on record?"

"No shit."

Violet put the tape recorder back in the bag and stood up. "Then I guess we're done here. Sorry to bother you, Ms. Kennedy."

She opened a portal a few feet in front of her and stepped through. It closed behind her, making a quiet shimmering sound.

Sky stared at the spot where the portal had been. "...okay, that's actually pretty cool."

* * *

Val threw her mask off in frustration. She laid down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Well, that was... terrible.

She sighed and pondered the conversation she just had. Sky's just a coward. Justice needs to be done, no matter what the cost. And she already has more money than she could ever spend; even if her career does implode, it's not like she'll end up on the street or something.

She sat up and rubbed her temples. But... to get justice for Sky, and Raymond, and all those other people, Madame would have to go to prison. But that's a good thing, right? She's a criminal. But she's also my... Val frowned. Your what? What is she, actually, to you? Your girlfriend? You haven't exactly gone on a dinner date with her. Do you even love her? Or do you just love what she can do to you?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a buzz from her phone. She picked it up and saw she had a message.

"Mistress Weiss sent you a private message.

Madame forgives titslave for its foolishness. Send me a call when you can, Valerie. I think you're owed an explanation."

What the fuck?

Val opened the messaging app and scrolled up, past Madame's last post. She gasped when she saw the nude selfie she sent, and blushed furiously when she read the message that went alongside it.

"titslave apologises fur its insulince"

Wait... call her? She opened her contacts and scrolled through. Right at the start of the "M" section, there was a listing for Madame Weiss. When did I get her number? She tapped it and started a call.

Within a few moments, someone picked up. Val recognized the voice instantly. "Why, hello, Valerie," said Weiss. "I believe you found that trigger I told you about last night?"

"I think it found me, actually."

Weiss chuckled. "Honestly, I wish I could've seen it in person. But the picture was very much appreciated. Did you enjoy it?"

Val squirmed on the bed. She wanted to say no, but for some reason, the idea of lying to Weiss seemed impossible. "Yes, Madame."

"Good girl," said Weiss. Val whimpered, feeling a rush of pleasure across her whole body. It wasn't making her aroused, but instead making her feel warm and contented. It reminded her of when she would get an A on an assignment in class, but amplified. She was proud that Madame called her a good girl.

"Madame..." Val sighed softly, trying to collect herself. "I'm a little confused."

"Hm?"

"I don't remember getting your number, and I feel this... need to be honest with you. Is that something you did?"

"Yes, it is." Weiss paused. "I think I went over it last night, but I'll admit you were pretty fractionated while I went over it. Basically, when it's something small - like, say, whether you enjoyed being turned into a slave to your own breasts - you won't be able to lie to me. But you can still ignore it if you need to, and it only works if I ask you something directly. You won't be going around blurting out your deepest secrets, in other words."

"And I agreed to that?"

"Of course. But, again, you were a bit out of it. I probably should have brought you all the way up, but it was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing and I wanted to keep the momentum of the scene up. I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay. I'm fine with it. But, uh..."

"But what?"

Val sighed. "Well, it's a little embarrassing. But, earlier this morning, when I was..."

"Drooling over your own tits?"

"...yeah. That. Uh, when I was doing that, I actually had an appointment I needed to go to, and I was almost late to it because I was doing that instead of getting ready."

Weiss cursed under her breath. "Valerie, I'm so sorry. I always try to make sure my triggers only work when you feel safe and don't have anything else to worry about, but I must have forgotten to add that when I installed the titslave programming. Do you have some free time right now?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'd like to put you back under and tighten that up. So that it only works when you're alone, and safe, and you have enough free time to enjoy it. Does that sound good?"

"You can do that over the phone?"

Weiss laughed. "Sweetie, audio hypnosis is a very popular pastime. And besides, I can just use my magic word."

Val sat straight up. "You gave me a drop trigger?"

"Yes, of course I did. Seemed like a sensible thing to do. So, how about it?"

Val took a deep breath, trying to calm down the butterflies in her stomach. "Y-Yeah, go ahead."

"Good girl." Val shuddered with pride.

Weiss said something, and Val's mind went dark.

* * *

"...and five! Wide awake!"

Val breathed in and opened her eyes. She felt like she'd gotten more rest just now than she did waking up that morning. "Mmm... hi."

"Hey there," Weiss said. "You feeling alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Weiss."

"My pleasure. Wanna keep chatting, or do you have somewhere to be?"

Val checked the time. She had about a 20 minutes before her group meeting. "Actually, yeah, I gotta go."

"Alright." Weiss sounded disappointed. "I'll talk to you later, then."

* * *

Gibson groaned and leaned back in his chair. "Where is he? This is like the first time he's ever been late to one of these."

The group sat at their meeting table, waiting on Reuben to show up. He was 10 minutes late already, and no one had heard anything from him about when he might be there. Yun-hee spun slowly in her chair. "Guess he and that Hawthorne guy are still talking," she said.

Brayden tapped at his phone, the obnoxious music and sound effects from whatever game he was playing on it filling the room. "Maybe he's using offering some 'special treatment' for Ray-"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence," Gibson snapped.

"Fuck off, Gibson," sneered Brayden, "you're not my boss."

"Settle down, children." The group turned their heads to see Reuben walk into the room, still in his uniform. He removed his mask and set it on the table, and took his seat. "Sorry for running late. Mr. Hawthorne's appointment before mine ran long. So, who wants to go first?"

Nobody raised their hand. After a moment, Reuben spoke up. "Val? Why don't you start? You had the first interview of the day, after all."

Val sighed. "Sky won't go on record. She's worried about the publicity aspect. She didn't tell me anything."

"Well, that's disappointing," Reuben said. "Let's just go clockwise, then. Yun-hee?"

"Mr. Ward didn't remember anything," Yun replied. "He didn't even remember making the 9-1-1 call."

"Hm. Gibson? How about you?"

"Same here," Gibson said. "That Collins guy didn't know what I was talking about."

"And Brayden?"

"Yep," replied Brayden.

"Very eloquent," Reuben said. "Mr. Hawthorne said the same thing he told Marvin. Swears he's dating this Blanc woman, but he wouldn't name anywhere they'd been together or anything they'd done. Wouldn't tell me her actual name, either."

"Maybe he can't," Yun-hee interjected. "Val and Gibson got to his apartment pretty fast. Assuming Blanc implanted this memory of being in love, she probably didn't have time to implant anything else."

"But that's just a theory, right?" Reuben glared at Yun-hee. "We don't really have any proof that she messed with his memory. He denied it when I brought up the possibility, and he seemed pretty convinced it couldn't have happened."

"What if he's just convinced because of Blanc's suggestion? If he thinks they're in love, he naturally wouldn't think she'd hurt him."

"You just said she didn't have much time to mess with his head. Could she really have made his feeling for her that strong in such a short amount of time?"

"What about those flashes?" Val interrupted. "What if whatever causes those makes someone more suggestible? Or it makes suggestions stronger or something?"

Reuben turned his head towards Val. "PCPD didn't find anything in Hawthorne's apartment that would create something like that. So Blanc couldn't have used it on Mr. Hawthorne."

"What if he's hiding it somewhere?" Yun-hee said.

"There we go again," Reuben sighed. "'What if' this, 'what if' that. It's all conjecture. We don't have any actual proof of anything. Yun-hee, you went over all the alleged victims. Did any of them report anything stolen? Any suspicious activity on their bank accounts? Anything at all that would actually prove that Blanc did anything to them?"

"Well, no, but-"

"And is there any concrete connection between any of them?"

Yun-hee pushed up her glasses. "They're all wealthy, but aside from that, no."

"So we have nothing," he snapped. "There's only two confirmed victims here, and one of them isn't talking."

"One is enough," said Gibson. "That can still put her away for a long time."

Everyone turned to look at Val. She froze.

"Val?" said Reuben. "Is something wrong?"

Val's heart felt like it was going to explode. She suddenly became acutely aware of the temperature in the room, and how her hands wouldn't stay still. "Can... can we take a break?"

* * *

"Pick up, pick up..."

Val tapped her foot on the locker room floor. The phone shook in her hand.

Click. "Hello?"

"Weiss!" Val almost jumped off the bench. "I didn't know who else to call, I'm freaking the fuck out right now, my heart is going crazy-"

"Valerie?" Weiss sounded concerned. "Valerie, what's wrong?"

"I-I'm at work, and something happened, and now I'm just- I'm shaking a lot, and I just feel really scared, and I need you to drop me right now."

"Valerie, I don't think that's a good idea-"

"Weiss, please! I need you to help me!"

"It's really not a good idea to mix therapy with kinky stuff. I want to help you, but I-"

"Please!"

Weiss sighed. "Alright. But just this once, alright?"

"Thank you! Thank you, thank-"

Val heard Madame say something. Her eyes slammed shut.

* * *

Val felt someone pushing her shoulder. She stirred and slowly opened her eyes. "Mmm..."

"Val?" said Yun-Hee. "You alright?"

Val jerked away from Yun-hee and gasped. "Jesus!"

"S-Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. You left the meeting, and we were all kinda worried about you. You seemed pretty stressed."

Val took a deep breath and relaxed a little. "Yeah. I'm okay now, though. Just... I guess I'm just really anxious about this whole Blanc thing."

"I can imagine. It's gotta be really scary, having all this happen and not knowing whether she's still out there, or if you might run into her again."