SSMM Ch23

“I guess we check on them,” Ava says with a shrug.

They leave, and Viv and Annette are talking to each other. The vibe has certainly improved. Out in the foyer, they stop at the top of the steps.

“Where the hell have you been?” Ava snaps at the blonde downstairs, who looks accusatory.

“Uh,” Hailey replies, but she seems to be at a loss for words. The FUTA mascot wears her soccer uniform, which is styled for the male gaze, but still recognizable as a soccer uniform. It’s not beyond the pale like the tennis and wrestling outfits. FUTA horniness walked so these other crazy projects could run.

“Who the fuck?” Jane mutters.

“She’s with Annette.”

It’s Jane; she’s staring at Jane. And that’s fair. The swimsuit is doing its job. Maybe too well.

“Bro.” Ava points a finger down at the blonde. She catches herself before she can say what she’s thinking: that it should’ve been Hailey doing all this modeling bullshit. But on the other hand, this nonsense has led to a lot of fun stuff. So maybe it’s OK.

Hailey reads between the lines.

“I had cramps!”

“Let’s go,” Ava says, rolling her eyes and taking Jane’s hand.

“But I’m hungry,” Hailey whines.

“Your plate is on the counter. It’s under a heat cover. It’s thirty feet away,” Jane tells her calmly, pointing.

“Oh. Do you have Dr. Pepper?”

“Help yourself.”

The blonde shuffles dejectedly toward the kitchen.

Ava and Jane exchange a look and cross the foyer to climb the stairs to the guest wing, where they find another blonde by herself.

Ingrid stands in the corridor, staring intently at a framed movie poster for one of Viv’s projects. She notices Ava and Jane coming and smiles at them politely. There’s only the slightest look of shock as she sees Jane’s costume and all that goes with it, but she controls that quickly and politely goes back to her poster. She does not stare like everyone else has, or in Viv and Chitose’s cases, leer at Jane’s exposed state.

It's hard not to be a little self-conscious walking past this Swedish woman, one of the few people in this house who has any shred of dignity and self-respect. Well, there can’t be too much self-respect if she’s here to pitch something to Viv. No, that’s not true. Ava’s literally an intern at FUTA, and well aware of how contracts lock people into things.

But where’s Ebba? Ingrid looks put together, although she is clearly not making an effort for Viv’s sake in her beige pants and gray sweater. It must be their turn to go and stand before the queen.

The poster that Ingrid’s looking at must be for a horror film; it’s dramatic and painted, like… Giallo style. A young Viv is tangled up, artfully nude in some bedsheets while the shadow of someone holding a knife falls over her menacingly. It’s a cool poster.

Jane pauses at the corner ahead, stealing a glance back at Ingrid, who is still admiring the poster.

“They’re up next,” she murmurs.

“I figured.”

“I heard they want to adapt Ingrid’s book but the studio pulled a lot of the funding and changed directors on them. I guess they want more money for the project so that it doesn’t come out really bad,” Jane speculates.

“I hope they get it,” Ava whispers. Perhaps better than anyone else here, she knows about what Ingrid went through. CCL has capitalized on those events, but they’ve also left some scars. There’s still a lot of fun to be at CCL, but everything is so complicated now. All the drama used to come from politics; having the legacy of those murders to deal with as well has not made it easier. It’s really fun to be getting a slice of pie in Gurlberg and hear some older lady telling her friend about how those degenerate sluts deserved to die for sinning. Really fun.

“You good?” Jane asks.

“Yeah.”

Jane pulls up short barely five steps later. She points.

One door is not like the others; it’s not exactly ajar, but it isn’t quite shut. That’s Chitose’s door.

“Something’s wrong,” Jane says, hurrying forward.

There’s a moment of uneasiness as Ava follows, then a moment of real panic when she hears the sounds inside, and then none of that.

Some clothes are on the floor and Chitose is on top of Belinda in the bed. She’s still wearing her wrestling top, but her bare as is in the open. The black belts of the strap-on she wears make her already well-muscled anatomy seem more powerful. She thrusts into Belinda deeply and almost violently, but at a deliberate pace that keeps the older woman breathless. Belinda’s eyes are closed and her face is locked in an expression that looks deceptively like agony. It isn’t agony.

Chitose, meanwhile, looks supremely satisfied as she stares down at the woman underneath her.

Ava and Jane carefully back out of the room and close the door. They move down the hall a little.

Ingrid is still down there.

Ava and Jane lean in excitedly to whisper chaotically.

“What the fuck?”

“How do you go from there to pounding that fast?”

“Belinda is really pretty.”

“That was hot.”

Jane blinks a few times and gathers herself.

“I didn’t realize they were a thing,” she says finally, a bit more calmly.

“I don’t think they are. But Belinda did say that Chitose, uh, has needs. I think she wanted me to be doing that.”

“Uh, I think she wanted it,” Jane says, pointing at the door. “Pretty sure.”

“Maybe she didn’t want to like, cross a professional boundary?”

“It’s crossed!” Jane snorts.

“Right?” Ava waves a hand. “Whatever. They’re celebrating. Lucky.”

“I guess they’re OK.”

“Man, I wish I was that OK.”

Jane starts to speak, then looks away, blushing. “I was going to say that can be arranged, but I don’t have that kind of confidence. Chitose’s a little bulldog. And I don’t have anything like that.” She gestures vaguely downward.

“Me neither.”

Jane can’t contain herself; she laughs. Then wipes her eyes.

“Wow. OK. So.”

“So.”

“Want to hang out?”

“Yeah.”

“Have some fun?”

“Yaaas.”

Jane frowns suddenly and looks past Ava.

Down the hall, Ingrid looks at her watch.

“Uh… but if we do my plan, it could mess with her. You know?”

“What? What’s she got to do with it?”

“Nothing. But if we distract Viv, we distract her from what she’s doing. And she’s supposed to be doing her. I mean, her pitch or her business stuff.” Jane shrugs. “Maybe we should wait.” She looks pained as she says it.

Even before walking in on that, waiting would not have appealed to either of them. It doesn’t matter that Ava got off less than an hour ago. She feels blueballed to an eleven.

Wait?

Or do Jane’s plan?