"He belongs to you!" "You deserve him."
Betsy wiped away her tears as she read the entries left on her Facebook page. Then she read the next in line. She didn't recognize the friend. Moreover, she'd never even heard of such language. She read it again to make sure it said what she thought it said.
"Fix that backstabbing bitch."
Fix the bitch. Golly, Betsy never even pondered such a thought. Fix. The. Bitch.
Betsy's pulse stirred. Something inside her began to change. To stir.
The bitch. The dark-haired bitch who stole Eddie.
Eddie.... Oh Eddie. Sweet Eddie. So cute with his red hair and freckles. Eddie, the guy she'd been in love with for so many years she'd lost count.
Betsy heard the rumors. Rumors that Eddie was shopping for a ring. That he was going to propose. She'd been patient. She'd been a good girl. Such a good girl. Betsy even blogged about it. That Eddie was proposing.
Proposing to HER.
Only he didn't. Well he did propose - only it was to that bitch. That bitch Ronnie.
Ronnie - Veronica. The mere thought of that raven haired bitch whose very existence seemed to be as a foil to Betsy made that dark feeling inside her grow ever stronger and take hold.
Rich. Beautiful. Selfish. And through spite, Veronica always seemed to desire what Betsy possessed. Ronnie, who had such self-centered selfish gall to ask Betsy to be her maid of honor - as if she never realized that Betsy was heart-broken - was devastated. It wasn't to Veronica that Eddie belonged. No, he was rightfully Betsy's.
Worse, Betsy was forced to say yes. To be a good sport about it. Betsy - always the good sport - the good girl. Betsy cried some more. She wrote about it on her Facebook page. Everyone was so understanding - and made it all the more bearable. Until she read that last entry.
Fix the bitch. And the something bizarre happened. She blinked her eyes and the comment was missing from her page. Who could delete something from Facebook. Her Facebook.
Then her phone vibrated. She looked at the text.
"revenge -justice." and once again it disappeared.
Who could do such a thing? Betsy had no idea, but it was frightening. There was only one person she could turn to, one person who had that kind of brain power - Dibert Doile.
A Plan in the works
"Oh Dibert," Betsy's whimpered in Dibert's arms. "I'm so scared. Strange things are happening on my computer and phone."
Dibert Doile had never had a girl so close to him. Smelling of peach blossom. The feel of her chest heaving against his.
"Golly, what is this about?" Dibert asked. "Is it about Eddie and Veronica? You know Betsy- you are much too good for him. You need a fellow that appreciates you for you."
"Oh Dibert," Betsy purred. "That is so sweet. But can you check out my phone and laptop?"
Dibert checked them both thoroughly. "I can't find anything." He said, pushing his glasses back on his nose and shaking his head. "What did it say?"
Betsy bit her tongue. Revenge. Could she tell Dibert what it said? She couldn't. She couldn't tell anyone. Not after a dark fantasy had sprung into her mind that night in bed.
The cute blond's sparkling blue eyes grew calculating and she moved in close to the little geek once more. She practically purred like a kitten, her hot breath whispering in his ear. He knew she was a reporter for the school paper, and she was doing an in depth piece...but she needed something. Could Dibert get it? IT would be hard to get, but she'd be ever so grateful. Oh so very grateful.
A Trap is Sprung.
Something had changed inside Betsy Cooper. Somehow she felt more real - while everyone else was just some sort of cardboard cutout. Everyone was so trusting. It was so easy. Too easy really. All it took was a bottle of pills she'd obtained from unwitting Dibert. All it took was a little kiss on his nerdy little cheek. It made her laugh thinking how she'd fogged his little nerd glasses. It was easy. So very easy. "Where did you say we were going Bets?" Veronica asked.
"A little pre-bachelorette party!" Betsy assured her friend. Far too easy. How could she have ever come in second place to such a dimwitted bitch?
"But we just left Riverdale." Veronica felt that funny flutter of fear that always seemed to accompany those times when she was outside of Riverdale. It had been years since she last set foot outside of the city limits.
"I know," Betsy said. "Isn't it exciting?"
"I guess so," Veronica said. "It is my bachelorette party after all."
"That's the spirit," Betsy said, passing the cute brunette a small bottle. "Drink this."
Veronica downed it in one gulp. "Tastes sweet...like licorice..." The last came out as a wheeze and her eyes watered. She began to cough uncontrollably. God, what was that? "Water..." she gasped.
Betsy smiled, passing the poor fool three more small bottles. They were consumed in a blink. Moreover the burning eased up, now it just felt warm in her tummy. She felt warm all over.
"What was that?" Veronica asked.
"Just a little something to get the party started." Betsy said. "And don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from."
"Goodie," Veronica said. "It makes me feel good all over. She ran a fingernail over her full lips and gave a quizzical look. "My lips feel tingly. I don't think I can feel them anymore."
Veronica laughed and began to talk - and talk. About her latest shopping exploits. About how lucky she was to be marrying Eddie. And how lucky she was to have such a good best friend and maid of honor.
"Hey," Veronica said as she suddenly noticed something was amiss. "Why aren't you drinking anything."
Betsy smiled sweetly and took a tiny swig. "I have been drinking. As a matter of fact, you aren't keeping up with your best friend in the whole wide world. Here, have another."
Veronica dutifully did. While Betsy spotted just what she'd been looking for. She picked up the com for the limo driver.
"Driver, pull over there. Right there."
"Are you sure Miss Cooper?" the voice on the phone did his best in the given the situation.
"Don't get your panties in a wad," Betsy said. "I know these girls." But she didn't know them - not personally. However, they appeared to be just the sort of girls she was looking for. The too short skirts. The tramp stamps. The bare midriffs. Oh they were perfect. If they weren't she'd know for sure in just a few moments. Putting her window down, Betsy yelled out the window.
"What up skanks!" Betsy hollered.
The girls yelled back. Oh yes, these were just the girls Betsy was looking for.
"You want to party with me and my friend? It's her bachelorette party and we are going someplace a damn sight better than this." And then the coup de grace. "She's buying."
Veronica had one last chance. She almost succeeded.
"Betsy wait..." Veronica said. But she hesitated. She didn't grab Betsy's hand to restrain her. She didn't ask the driver to floor it. After that, it was too late.
The door was open. And in a blink the car was full of the wrong sort of people. They dressed terribly. They smelled of smoke. Yuck!
Betsy passed around a few more bottles and things snowballed downhill from there. There was an embarrassing question answer game about sexual experiences - and everyone seemed to be much more experienced than Veronica. Even Betsy was more experienced.
There were other games. A game like hot potato, only the potato was a very realistic dildo. Worse, you were not allowed to use your hands to pass it. If it buzzed while you held it, you lost an article of clothing.
Veronica thought of protesting. But everyone else seemed to be having so much fun. She didn't want to be a stick in the mud - especially when she was being given so much attention. A few times, Veronica was suspicious that Betsy never seemed to lose her clothes - never seemed to have to try to pick up the latex cock between her thighs - or her mouth.
But it was hard to think about Betsy when the drinks were making Veronica feel giddy and disoriented at the same time. Too hard to think about perserving her modesty, when the rest of the girls had no such inhibitions. Veronica wasn't even the first girl to loose her clothes. That honor belonged to a young red-head that was now dancing in the limo...if you wanted to call it that. It was more of an erotic display of flaunting her body about, showing off her tattoos and pubic hair that had been dyed bright pink. And things grew even more weird. The nude girl hopped up on Veronica's lap and began to bump and grind.
Poor Veronica could feel that wiry muff rubbing against her stomach and her thigh. Clad only in a pare of small panties, Veronica felt defenseless against such an onslaught. There was something more she didn't want to think about. There was a silky smooth wetness left behind wherever the girl touched her.
"Stacy," Veronica said, taking the girl by the hips and trying to force her off. "I would appreciate it if you - I mean ah - I don't think you should be ahh - mphhhhh..."
Yuck! Oh God, she'd been kissed. Full on in the mouth. Tongue and all. By a girl. Worse, the limo felt like it was going around in circles. Everything was spinning. She could hear Betsy laughing. "Poor Ronnie looks like she may not want to get married after all. Kiss her again Stacy. Kiss her like you mean it."
It was like the world sped up - or that Veronica was in slow motion. Stacy wasn't just kissing her, she was kissing her hungrily. Veronica was being kissed by a naked girl on her lap. The feeling was surreal. At first Veronica resisted, but she soon gave in and let the girl have her way. Soon, Veronica returned the favor. She kissed back. Her nipples grew hard. Her breath grew heavy.
There were flashes of light, as if Veronica was seeing stars. The bright pink of Stacy's muff. The scent of musk. A taste of...
Sitting across from Veronica, Betsy giggled as she snapped photo after photo. This was an unexpected bonus. She'd hoped to use these skanks to pressure little Miss Perfect into partying too much. But the girls started drinking Veronica's drinks...drinks that were spiked with Rohypnol that Betsy managed to scam off of Dibert Doile. The skinny red-head in particular had consumed 3 bottles of the spiked booze. Betsy dutifully captured it all for posterity.
Poor Veronica could feel someone touching her inappropriately, touching her nipples, her clit. But by the time she opened her mouth to protest, she'd forgotten what it was and what she wanted to protest. In a blur she was getting dressed. Wearing a bridle crown. A tight body hugging minidress with lifesavers stitched on it. No bra. No panties. Lugging a plastic ball and chain about on her leg. Giggling. Staggering about the club, assaulted by smoke, flashing lights and loud music.
Men eating the lifesavers off her dress. Inserting dollar bills in the garter around her thigh. The girl with the red hair always nearby. Being sandwiched between two girls on the dance floor. Being humped by them. Humping them back. Kissing men. Kissing women. Flashes of light. Her head hurt. Oh it hurt. Her mouth felt of sandpaper and cotton. But at least Eddie held her tight. His tight body. His...
Eddie!
