The Book of Lucia, Chapter XVI - Beware of False Prophets

[Liesmith]

Well then.

Admittedly, Tris knew she was being played. But, as contrary as she was prone to be, this time Chastity’s not all that subtle suggestion matched entirely with her own instincts. And, to be honest, she could really use the fun, not to mention the workout. She kicked off her trainers. Stood barefoot on the matted floor.

Stripping off leggings was admittedly not exactly simple for Tris, given the design and the constraints of her build. As an American client of hers liked to say, this girl had a wagon.

Trying to strip them off and make it look sensual? She wasn’t sure that was doable. But she gave it the old college try, taking it slow for Chastity’s benefit, swaying her hips and making the most of what she had as she peeled them over and down.

Underneath, the pale redhead wore a pair of simple black workout shorts, ones clearly on the verge of being overwhelmed by the sumptuous, powerful curves of the hips, thighs and arse they were struggling to contain.

Tris considered it a minor nuisance, a small price to pay for what she had.

With her upper body, things were easier. She let her hoodie slip off her shoulders, down to her upper arms. Held it there for a moment then let it fall the rest of the way. The tank top Tris pulled up and over her head, fully revealing the matching, almost equally strained sports bra that was all she wore underneath.

She gave the blonde sister a good long moment to look to her heart’s content.

Then she threw the bundle of clothing in the other woman’s face.

“Here, hold this.”

By the time that Chazzie had cleared her view again, Tris would be casually walking up the steps to the ring, all lazy confidence as she slid through the ropes and stalked over to where the twins were struggling.

One of the pair was just rising – the British bombshell went to give her a forceful shove so as to make some space, stomping pointedly on the still-downed twin’s belly as she moved to follow Victim #1.

[BlackAkuma]

Sister Chastity, despite her appearance and the way she often carried herself, could, when called upon, be fairly sly and duplicitous. She had to be. Sister Prudence was the blunt instrument of the group, the hammer, loud and blunt and about as subtle as a thunderclap. Sister Lucia was…well, Sister Lucia. The twins were new and untested. So the onus fell on her to be the scalpel in a box of hammers.

But, that being said, it wasn’t as if it took some great stagecraft to push Tris in this particular manner. A word, a glance, an implication and the work was done. She knew what she would do if their position were reversed, and while they were unalike in many ways, she wagered this was not one of them.

She stood and watched as the redhead undressed, taking in the show and enjoying the fine display of flesh before her. It was a short show, and it ended abruptly when Beatrice used her as a human coatrack, tossing the clothing about her face and driving a surprised squawk from her.

A touch rude. Perhaps she herself would need to have a little engagement with Beatrice whenever what was about to happen came to an end.

Sister Chastity stumbled a step back and threw an edged look back at Beatrice, one that the world would never see in the light of day. It was gone by the time she had the clothes off of her, and she neatly set them down on the floor as she brought her focus to the ring. She could be perturbed later. The show was about to begin.

Sister Hope didn’t seem to pay Beatrice any heed - perhaps she thought her to be Sister Chastity herself, coming in to join them, or she was just that wrapped up in the moment. Whatever the case, she was easily flung off and tossed away as the redhead made her imposing presence known, sending her tumbling away while she used her sister as a stepstool - needless to say, but Faith and her tortured midsection were less than thrilled by that, filling the room with her anguished cries.

Hope rolled off her back and deftly popped to her feet, coming down in a crouch as she spied the new challenger. Confusion was quickly replaced with intrigue and no small amount of amazement as she registered exactly what she was dealing with, but to her credit, she didn't balk at the oncoming obstacle. She licked her lips, nodded and sprang, coming straight at Beatrice without an ounce of fear.

Beatrice was quite a bit taller and more substantial than her, so while it looked like she wanted to charge the woman head on, she had a trickier idea in mind. Hope ducked low at the second and swiftly tried to make her way to the redhead’s other side, where she reached and attempted to wrap her arms around the waist and its endless curves, trying to secure her with a waistlock.

[Liesmith]

It was petty. It was childish. It might well come back to bite her.

But petty and childish and likely to haunt her or not, Tris felt it was totally worth it simply for the raw sound she’d finally dragged out of Sister Chastity. Her only regret – she’d got her back turned and couldn’t see the nun’s no-doubt delicious expression. In short, it gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling deep in her shrivelled soul as she slipped into the ring.

Like a nice mug of hot chocolate on a winter’s day.

As she closed the distance between the edge of the ring and the tangling twins, Tris moved as quietly as any cat, padding surprisingly lightly on her bare feet for a woman of her build. But silent she wasn’t; they just weren’t paying attention and that was an immediate strike against them in Tris’ book.

Of course, it made it much easier for her, so perhaps she shouldn’t complain.

Tris didn’t waste much time on the downed twin, a quick stomp and grind of her heel as she stepped over her being all she was prepared to spend for now. It was all she needed to do from the squeals she got, but the majority of the advancing redhead’s attention was fixed squarely on Sister Wednesday, the one she’d sent tumbling. Sister Thursday would keep.

As Tris came on with slow menace in her every step, the chosen victim clearly didn’t intend to just lie down. She popped back up like a bad habit and Scylla could see the moment when realisation hit. The redhead smiled her wicked, lazy smile, waiting to see what Victim #1 would do.

The answer – charge apparently. Straight at her, barely a beat, no hesitation.

Brave? Stupid, in Tris’ book. But, hey, never interrupt an enemy while they’re making a mistake.

The Sister came at her like a shot. Only to vanish at the last moment, ducking out of Tris’ field of view. Tris paused, lips quirking in bemusement as she felt a pair of arms lash around her waist and another body snuggle up behind her.

Cute.

First, she grabbed her opponent’s hands to make sure she didn’t go anywhere.

Then, arching her back to get some space, Tris went to slam her substantial backside into the smaller body behind her. And again.

She did a little twerk and popped her hips for the trifecta, before going to toss the hopefully-tenderised Slutty Sister back to the mat.

[BlackAkuma]

Hope was confused. Intrigued, surprised, more than a touch aroused, but more than all of it, confused.

She and her sister had been enjoying a little spar. Nothing too serious, some casual rolling about and squeezing, of which she had been getting the better end. It was just a boring day with nothing terribly much to do, so they had figured some training would be beneficial. Typically they would ‘volunteer’ one of the initiates to be one of their punching bags, but their usual victims seemed oddly occupied today.

It had been going well - for Hope, at least - when Chastity came into the room, and neither of them paid her much mind. That was, until the woman came in, shoved her off Faith, and-

And that was not Chastity. Okay.

The woman - whoever this was - had a body that could rival the blondes; she would give her that much. A full body, replete with pleasing flesh and muscle under the surface. Fulsome. Long, burning-red strands of hair floated behind her. Moving with confidence, with power, seemingly unfazed by her lack of clothing - Hope could respect that.

The woman moved toward her, too, and Hope saw it right away for what it was: a challenge. She didn’t know what possessed whoever-this-was to do what she was doing, and it didn't much matter, she supposed.

Unafraid, she came in to grapple with Big Red and tried to slip around to catch her from behind. It was a tactic that would’ve worked on her sister, but her sister wasn’t packing quite as much heft as this woman was.

One strike. A hard, powerful thrust of Big Red’s hips that likely would have knocked her off her feet if she hadn't been held in place.

Two strikes. This one made Hope gasp as the wind was knocked clean out of her. It might have looked silly to see, but it was like taking a battering ram made of flesh.

Three strikes. That was all Hope could take and down she went, falling to her knees behind the larger woman. Her face fell forward, coming to rest on Big Red’s impressively pleasing ass - totally by accident, of course.