When Elvira Met Bettie Chapter 7 (Patreon)

Bettie sat down, tired and dejected, beside Izzy. She wouldn’t allow herself to cry; that seemed like another way of giving into Danny.

They had crashed in rugged mountain country, rocky where it wasn’t heavily wooded. The ground wouldn’t have been soft even if it wasn’t close to winter.

Izzy moaned; his eyelids seemed to come unstuck more than he opened them. But he focused on Bettie next to him, his hand reaching out to her. She turned to him and happily took his grip in hers.

“Oh Izzy, thank goodness you’re awake! How do you feel?”

“As bad as I did the last time… my head keeps pounding away… I’m not sure how my ears are staying on!”

Bettie stared at his ashen face, his eyes red and rheumy in deep sockets. He was suffering and she could help him, but it would cost so much. It felt perfectly scandalous what Danny expected of her… but if it were any other physical exertion, if she had to risk breaking her leg or her arm in order to relieve his pain… but this wasn’t the same, it just wasn’t!

It was all that preening egomaniac Danny Cannon, the tinpot dictator of their doomed expedition! How could she reward his loathsome bartering, even to spare lovely Izzy his awful pain?

With a long, drawn-out moan, Izzy shuddered and he fell again into unconsciousness. Bettie leaned over him, frantic to see that he was just sleeping, that the pain hadn’t somehow forced him away from her forever.

She sobbed. Bettie loved her little Izzy Ashcan. With him getting Bettie her bookings and photo sessions, her whole life practically revolved around him. It had never occurred to her that she might lose him. Now that morbid thought hung over her, paralyzing her with fear.

Not just the fear of losing him, but of her whole world—her work, her career, artistic fulfillment, public adoration. And the way he touched her, spoke to her, caressed her, made her happy… promised to take care of her no matter what…

Yes! She would take care of him too! He was hurt… suffering! He needed her—all of her—far more of her than simply making him comfortable, dressing his wound and feeding him. She couldn’t hold back. She’d deny him nothing and, as if to show that, Bettie stooped to kiss Izzy’s sweaty brow repeatedly.

Izzy! Oh, Irvin! I love you so dearly! I’d do anything for you! Even… that! Let another man… have me… you were so magnanimous to let me share my body with all those art lovers around the world… now I have to share so much more of it!

Oh, how can I make a decision like this? It’s too enormous… I shouldn’t be expected to choose alone… but who could I tell about it? Elvira would obviously be no help… and Gordon already tried standing up to that man… all I have is myself… and Izzy.

And won’t I lose him if he finds out I let him suffer, suffer rather than suffering myself? Is allowing another man to violate my body really a worse pain than what poor Irvin’s going through?

Then Izzy started mumbling: “Oh God, we’re going down! Bettie, Bettie, hang on! Can’t let anything happen to you… Bettie!” He let out a horrible groan—the terror of it stabbed into Bettie’s brain like a shot of adrenaline to her already frazzled nerves.

Oh God… it’d be wrong to give into Danny, so wrong… but wouldn’t it be a greater sin to let Izzy suffer and do nothing to help? Yes… yes… it’d be inhuman! Inhuman not to care! Inhuman not to love Izzy enough to do whatever he needs!

But if only I had some reassurance… that this was what I was supposed to do! It’s bad enough I have to do this—but with no sign that it’s even the right thing at least…

Thinking she had to do something… anything… Bettie got up, going to the cooking area. She picked out an aluminum pan and walked down to the bubbling little stream. Whether or not she went through with Danny’s proposition, she could bathe Izzy’s face with cold water, maybe lower his temperature at least.

Danny Cannon watched her and he could see that she was conflicted, turning his bargain over in her mind with no respite. He could use a drink anyway, so he went to where she knelt, filling the pan with fresh water.

He stood behind Bettie, his eyes taking in her lavish body—as hungry as it was appetizing. And it was appetizing… maybe even more than he was hungry. That milk-white skin between the belt of her shorts and the square-cut tail of her blouse… the smooth stirring of her vertebra trailing up her back, the soft curves of her ribs, and then underneath, the dimpled curve of her waist flaring into the luscious fullness of her hips. Her sweeping buttocks jiggled in all their roundness when Bettie dipped the pan down then sat back on her heels.

Danny had a sudden glimpse of that same ass without the painted-on shorts, bare and blazing with flushed sexual heat, dancing back to him as his hardened manhood plunged into the source of all her femininity. Christ! His prick pumped upward and outward, throbbing, reminding him of what a rare creature Bettie was.

He’d had plenty of women, but one like her—never! She made him feel the rush of losing his virginity all over again! And it wasn’t all expectation or anticipation or forbidden fruit or anything like that; she was incredibly, incandescently, absurdly beautiful. And he’d never wanted a woman more than he wanted right now.

Bettie felt his presence crowding in on her, above and behind and suffocatingly wanting more. Lovemaking with him would be like going to bed with an octopus—limbs wrapped around everything she had to squeeze. She had to stay cool, calm, unknowable… not allowing Danny to see he was past her defenses even if he got through.

Even if he already had.

Coming to her feet, she turned to look at him. His cool blue eyes repulsed her: not so much with their lust as with their chill. She could maybe forgive a rapist, but the way he wanted a piece of her hand-delivered and neatly wrapped… God! The nerve of it alone! If he could control himself, he should control himself!

Silently she stepped past him, intending for their last conversation to be her final word on the subject. He grabbed her arm and swung her back around like he wasn’t done looking at her.

“Don’t you think it’s about time we settle accounts? I thought you aspiring actresses had to have a good work ethic. Strike while the iron is hot and all that!”

“We don’t have anything to do together, Mr. Cannon! And there’s nothing for us to discuss!”

Danny slumped comfortably, his tone relaxed as he indicated the ride to the north. “Up there, you see it… there’s a big oak tree… beautiful view. After lunch, I’m going to be there, enjoying that view. You come up there, say about one-thirty, and I think you’ll like the view as well.”

“If you’ll be so kind as to take your hand off me… Izzy needs me.”

“He certainly does. Shame you’re too much of a stuck-up little bitch to get him what he needs.”

“You’re cheap! Vulgar!” Bettie flared. “A man like you wouldn’t get a second look from any decent woman if we weren’t in this mess.”

“But we are in this mess. Back in the real world, you’ve got no problem getting by on your looks. Well, now you can get by on them here. And I’m getting what I want for what I’ll pay for it, the same as your pals Gordon and Irvin do on their own time. They’d never give me an even break if I were in their world, or you… isn’t that why you and Izzy are together in the first place?”

“Izzy gets plenty of what he wants by treating people fairly and decently, not like a crude scoundrel! Neither of us would want you rewarded for acting like a heel. So if you’ll excuse me…”

The pilot grinned as he let go of her elbow. “I’ll be waiting,” he said confidently.

Bettie would’ve rammed into him, except she didn’t even want to touch him that much. She made her way back to the airfield. Izzy was still out. She washed his face anyway; he soon came to, opening his eyes and looking at her with pain contorting his face, twisting his groaning lips.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Bettie cooed, leaning down to kiss his fevered skin. “I’ll make it better, I promise, promise…”

Even as she said it, she knew it was a promise she had to keep. She’d be as bad as Cannon if she didn’t promise; worse if she broke her word. She had to do it. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t follow through on the vow she so lovingly made to her beau.

According to the plan of attack Danny Cannon had drawn up against their situation, it was Bettie’s turn to prepare the noon meal. She did the job using a fat squirrel Danny had managed to kill. She made a stew out of it as he had proscribed. In matters of survival, his will seemed to be the only thing that mattered. And everything was a matter of survival at the moment.

***

“Hhhnnnn… uuummm…”

Elvira moaned sleepily and picked herself up out of the pool, where she’d been more waterlogged than Leonardo DiCaprio at the end of Titanic. Unlike him, though, she got to luxuriate in the feel of however many tentacles had tried their suckers at impregnating her sundry orifices.

God, it felt good trickling out of her, even if it hadn’t taken. Even after having been knocked unconscious somewhere along the line, she still had a vivid memory of Moe pumping away in her. After they’d left, she’d spent a good hour alternating between napping to recover her strength and fondling herself—using up whatever stamina she regained to keep that memory fresh.

By the time she was done, the pool probably smelled enough of her cunt that she could sell it as perfume. But that seemed a little too Gwyneth for her brand.

Groaning huskily at the thought of sharing her many-armed man (or whatever) with Madame Goop, Elvira reached down with both hands to caress her tender, still-slightly-bulging belly. The great thing about a creature that was pretty much all cock—it always gave a hundred percent. She’d come even harder than she had with the Plague Doctor; her, who’d jilled off to every episode of Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story! Who would’ve thought she’d find a better fetish than serial killers?

Now tentacles… she didn’t know if she’d ever love anything more than taking a delicious tentacle and sucking the cum out until not a drop was left in whatever it had for balls. If only it were here to give her a fresh helping!

She hadn’t come off as too needy, had she?

Taking a quick moment to thoroughly rinse herself off, Elvira at long last got out of the pool. But just before she stepped out, she took a moment to shake her ass.

“Well, thank God that monstrosity at least didn’t fuck me in my ass! My big, fat ass that I just got an enema in the other day! I’m sure my mind would’ve broken if I’d gotten ass-fucked just now!”

Not even a ripple in the water. Well, they hadn’t been black tentacles after all…