X-Men: The Bitch Queen Ch. 02

Emma Frost had something to prove. Not just to Scott, and not just to Betsy Braddock, but to herself too; maybe to herself most of all.

She'd gotten what she wanted and dragged a more aggressive side out of Scott in the bedroom, but she hadn't been prepared for just how aggressive he'd been or how she'd responded to it. In her head she was still going to be in control of everything even when she drew out the animal inside of him. More control than ever, really, because once Scott had lost himself in the sex, the frenzy, she'd be the one who'd taken control from him and held onto it herself.

That wasn't what had happened. She had lost control of that encounter right away. As soon as she pushed Scott far enough to make him let go, he'd introduced her to a side of him that had swept her up in submission. She'd embraced being his toy--the little slut she'd play-acted for Shaw and the others, she'd become it for real with him. Embraced it, enjoyed it, and wanted even more.

It'd taken embarrassingly long for her to come to her senses. If this could be called that. Her Scott, who she loved, she now intended to loan out to another. All her zeal over pulling him away from Jean Grey, from her very memory, and now Emma would let a rival for his affections sink her teeth into him.

It chafed to think about how easily she'd fallen in line and allowed Scott to truly take control of her. She prided herself on being able to hold onto control at all times, and he'd wrested it away from her far too easily. The pleasure Emma got from that incredibly intense fuck was undeniable, and she felt a tingling inside of her when she thought about it, but her wounded pride had still not recovered from how easily he'd made her submit to him. She needed to prove that she was stronger than that, or at least, stronger than others. That anyone else would have been broken and bent to his will even more readily than she had. Tonight was the night she was going to prove all of it, with the help of Scott's 'work wife.'

Sitting in the teacher's lounge, which was thankfully deserted enough for a potent privacy, she fixed her eyes on Betsy. Word around both the school and the X-Men was that she was Scott's work wife, as close to him as Emma was, only without the romance and sex that Emma enjoyed. There was an obvious attraction between them and Betsy enjoyed flustering him as much as Emma did, but it was Emma who laid claim to his affections.

Not that that stopped their mutual attraction, as Emma well knew. But Scott was hardly the sort to be lacking in self-control, and so she'd never worried about Scott's close friendship with another woman. In fact, she appreciated the jealousy. There was an ugly side of her that took pleasure in having what another woman wanted, reaping that envy like it was a cash crop. But now, Betsy could make herself even more useful. And she'd do it simply by getting what she'd always wanted.

Tapping at her phone, Emma sent the photo to Betsy. She watched as Betsy's phone pinged and the woman answered it, slender eyes widening to see what her screen now displayed. "Bugger me! Of all the bloody cheek, who--Emma--wait, is that...?"

As Betsy went through the storm of emotions, Emma moved in to make the kill. Betsy's psychic defenses weren't so good that Emma couldn't tell she'd reacted precisely as Emma had meant her to.

First, she'd seen the photo Emma had taken earlier of Scott in the shower. As Scott had to bathe with eyes closed and sunglasses off, he hadn't noticed, but the picture had still come out nicely. It showed Betsy everything she was missing and everything Emma was enjoying. The tall, compact body, the broad shoulders that weren't jockish enough to imply machismo, but held definite muscles. Then the thick arms and six-pack abs that every self-respecting X-Man seemed to have. Scott pushed all of them hard to be in peak physical condition and he asked even more of himself. And finally, the pièce de résistance. No training regimen was responsible for what hung between Scott's legs, but between Jean, Emma, and all the other beautiful women who'd dallied with him, there was no doubt he'd learned how to use his natural gift.

Naturally, Betsy had been incensed to receive an unsolicited dick pic, but then she'd realized that it wasn't actually erect. That size was when it was flaccid, and it had still been enough to make Betsy double back on her feminist leanings. And then she'd realized who that body, and that prick, belonged to. Scott Summers. Which meant it belonged to Emma. The same person who had 'accidentally' sent Betsy the picture in the first place.

Emma sat down beside Betsy, hitting her along with the realization, right when the iron was hot. "Oh! Dear me. That wasn't meant for you, Betsy, obviously. I'm terribly sorry. Please, accept my apology and delete that dreadful bit of smut."

She reached for Betsy's phone, to handle the deletion for her, and Betsy automatically held it out of Emma's reach. "Hold on a tick. If you're that leery of others seeing your man, perhaps you should take more care who you send his picture to. This could make for a valuable lesson."

Emma gave Betsy a poker-faced smile, meant to be as unreadable as it was stunningly photogenic. She didn't want to give away to Betsy what she was thinking. Of course, she could keep a neutral expression, but she also wanted Betsy to make certain false assumptions about what she was thinking. Emma knew how Betsy thought, after all. There were only so many thought process that led to wearing a one-piece swimsuit into battle.

"I suppose you're right. You and Scott are so close, after all. I'm sure he wouldn't mind you having such a thing--he can trust you to be discreet. As can I."

Betsy looked at Emma warily. "Who were you sending it to, anyway? I know you, Emma, and it's not like you to share the wealth."

"Oh, what a horribly classist thing to say. Multimillionaires shouldn't fight amongst themselves, Betsy. In the end, all us snobs have is each other."

Betsy's purple eyes bore into Emma, seeming to grow more vivid as her gaze grew more intense. Emma was confident in her psychic defenses to keep Betsy out. And she knew that like a horse to water, Betsy's mind would go where she wanted it to go.

As much as she loved being a telepath, manipulating someone the old-fashioned way was such a thrill.

"You didn't answer my question," Betsy said after a pause.

Emma bobbed her head in consideration. "Just a friend," she demurred.

Betsy scoffed. "Some friend. If I had a man like that, I wouldn't spread him around."

"Oh? You wouldn't? You don't think there's enough of Scott to go around?"

Betsy licked her lips. "I suppose there's not much chance of him being spread too thin. He is rather broad--in certain places..."

"That's not what my friend said."

Betsy blinked. She seemed distracted now. Given to fantasies. Emma had poured gasoline on the simmering flame of her attraction to Scott and it was all Betsy could do to stem that flow and keep the fire from burning out of control. "Oh no?"

Emma's eyes flickered to Betsy's phone, leading Betsy's gaze to it as well. The screen had long since gone dark to save power, but Betsy knew as well as Emma did that all she had to do was unlock it and she'd be able to see Scott again. All of him. A feast for the eyes. But that only whetted Betsy's appetite. A hunger like hers needed more to be satisfied.

Emma sighed. Inwardly, she had to keep from laughing. It was so easy to beguile Betsy. She should've done it a lot sooner, just because it was so very, very uncomplicated. "Well, she seemed to think that Scott was... too much. You know. For her, at least."

Betsy pinched her luscious lips together. "Dumb witch."

Emma laughed. "Yes indeed. Scott is quite a lot to handle, but--as you saw--he's worth it."

Betsy nodded distractedly. "Indeed."

"I had so hoped she would help me share the load, but if she's not interested, she's not interested." Emma lifted her downcast eyes to Betsy's face. She spoke so innocently it wasn't innocent at all. "I don't suppose you are?"

"I'm what?" Betsy mumbled. Then she shook her head, as if to rid herself of some persistent thought...

Which was the last thing Emma wanted. "Interested," she continued. "In sharing Scott's load."

"Oh." Betsy's face colored. "I..." Her eyes danced to the phone and back again. Her thumb actually twitched for the fingerprint scanner, but didn't actually summon up Scott's body. How could Betsy forget it, after all? "I..."

Emma smirked at her. Hook, line, and sinker. Eat your heart out, Mr. Summers. That's how you dominate someone. "Be at our room at ten," she said firmly. "And wear your costume."

***

Scott 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.