Paying Your Bar Tab

[hamish1024]

Storm pursed her lips slightly and blushed as Morrigan praised her face sitting skills. It wasn’t that the subject embarrassed her per se, she just wasn’t used to receiving compliments so directly like that.

“Well, I have been trying to use a few more smothers in my matches,” she explained. “Though the idea there is that the victim is intimidated by it, not necessarily enjoying it!”

She gave a thoughtful sigh as she weighed up Morrigan’s offer of domme work. To her own surprise, she didn’t reject it outright. Her partner Lyssa had been eagerly branching out into the sadism business, and making decent money after her first few sessions, from the sounds of it. She wasn’t quite sure she could ever see herself in leather, though.

“Thanks, but I’m focusing on my wrestling for now. If I’m gonna be working someone over, it’s more likely that they crossed me in the ring, rather than me wanting a pay check. Being feared is a fun angle to play, and I want more of it,” Storm purred. It was true, being a heel was one thing, but the reception she’d gotten after dragging Wendy Winston backstage for the express purpose of torturing her was something else. Still, working on her domme skills wouldn’t hurt, on that front.

Storm wriggled into her own grimy, tear-ridden top. It felt weird to be putting on dirty clothes, the stale sweat and staler booze uncomfortable on her skin, but it was only to protect her modesty whilst they trudged to the LAW showers, so she could suck it up.

“Ooh, itching for a rematch, huh? Maybe need to visit the doctors sooner rather than later, cos I’m thinking you need your head checked. But I’ll happily make the score two-nil if you insist!” Storm was grinning playfully as she approached the door, and gave Morrigan’s ass a firm but affectionate spank as she moved past to exit this delicious den of debauchery. She gave the dimly-lit, messily disorganised bedroom a final glance over her shoulder, clearly reminiscing over the raunchy delights of the past few hours. “Wish more of my nights in Japan were that fun,” she sighed.

“Right, let’s hit the showers. Maybe we can talk terms on that rematch, but I’m not sure they’ll let us do another barroom brawl after the damage you did to that place!”

Leaving the torrid, upturned bedroom squarely in the category of ‘someone else’s problem’, Storm led the way along the LAW corridors, beelining for the gym where their spare lockers, and a promised shared shower, awaited.

[BlackAkuma]

”You’re cute when you blush.”

The Morrigan didn’t mean it as some affectionate compliment, just a quick observation of the reality sitting before, but damned if it wasn’t true, and damned if it didn’t come out sounding softer than she meant it. Softer by her standards, anyway. It was true, though. Despite this woman beating her within an inch of her life less than twelve hours ago, there was a gentleness to her, one she wagered rarely got shown to people. She was just…cute. And Morrigan didn’t normally care for ‘cute’, but here, it worked.

”Hm. Offer’s on the table, if you ever want it.” Fully dressed now, she idly watched Storm dress, taking in the full picture as she squeezed back into it.

She was still staring - albeit a little more covertly- as Storm stood and gave her a spank on the way, taking the lead and taunting her along the way. Chuckling, Morrigan took a deep breath, savored that heady scent one last time, and followed right behind her.

The next hour or so flew by. Of course, there was their shared time in the shower, a mix of lazy lovemaking and a genuine effort to get each other clean. With their bodies still aching, they needed the help, working in tandem to cover the spots the other couldn't quite reach. A kiss there, a peck there, some holding, a little humping, a little biting…

Good stuff.

They couldn't get too wild, but it was enough to tide them over for the time being, and soon enough they got the job done. Luckily for them, a swanky bistro nearby, with a name Morrigan couldn't properly pronounce, was still serving breakfast. Not that swanky was her style, but it would do.

The Morrigan found herself gazing at the menu, idly thumbing through the options as she leaned back in the chair. She’d slipped into a Metallica t-shirt, with torn sleeves - always had to show off the arms, come what may. The waitress was somewhere nearby, whipping up their drinks

”So,” The Morrigan settled into the chair, getting comfortable enough to finally broach a topic that had been nagging her. ”I’m guessing your old man didn’t name you ‘Storm’. Unless he was a damn big X-Men fan.” She propped an elbow on the table and leaned in. ”My name’s Jacqueline. But don’t call me that, Jack’s fine. Or you can stick with the ring name, if you want. It’s no nevermind to me.”

There. That was out. It was easier than she’d imagined.

”Your turn.” She canted her head to the side. ”If you want.”

[hamish1024]

The joint shower was heavenly. The hot water rejuvenated their senses and soothed some of their aches, whilst washing away the ungodly amount of sweat and grime the warring women had accumulated. The frisson of wandering hands certainly helped. With a wince, Storm realised her spine was struggling to bend properly, undoubtedly the result of suffering Morrigan’s repeated, ruthless power moves – but now this gave her the perfect pretext to have the domme make amends, and kneel at her feet to help wash her otherwise inaccessible lower half.

Fun times.

Now smelling of soap, and dressed somewhat more respectably (if still scruffily) in a spare pair of grey sweatpants and a faded white gym tee, Storm settled happily into a leather chair as she awaited her strong black coffee. She smiled at the goth’s choice of small talk, finding it quite endearing. Storm was still getting used to the contrast between Morrigan’s big, imposing presence, and the softer, more personable underbelly that she was guardedly letting Storm have glimpses of. The duality was delightful.

“Ooh, Jack, I like that, it suits you,” Storm answered earnestly. “I mean, being the Morrigan, goddess of destruction and suffering suits you too, but it’s nice to have a break, you know? Thanks for telling me, Jack, I appreciate it.” She gently allowed their legs to rub up under the table, a subtle acknowledgement of her affection, that she understood the implications of lowering the guard of your ring name like that.

“Yes, I suppose it is my turn,” she sighed awkwardly, fidgeting with a teaspoon and avoiding eye contact. “You know, you’re the first person to even question that? Like, since I even got into wrestling? Now, I don’t particularly want to tell you my actual name, since it’s embarrassing as fuck, but I guess you’ve earned it, and you’ve shown me yours so I respect that I should show you mine,” she smiled.

“First of all, fuck you with the X-Men jokes, Storm is a real name, it’s on my birth certificate and everything,” the brunette teased, playfully jabbing the spoon in Morrigan’s direction. “It’s not that uncommon for girls in Scotland, you know – I think it’s the influence of the bitter North Atlantic weather on the west coast. That was the case with me – born in a howling, driving rain, my parents commemorated it with Storm as a middle name.”

“But you’re right. It’s not my first name. I was originally called… Edith.” The Scot cringed at the admission.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s the name of a girl that wears fussy dresses and drinks tea. I fucking hate it. Even as a wee girl I knew it wasn’t right. As soon as I found out my middle name was a hundred times cooler, I demanded to go by that. And to be fair to my family, they already realised I was one hell of a tomboy, and they readily accepted it.”

“So, yeah, I’ve been Storm since pretty much forever. It’s on my passport and everything. I think you’re the the only one in LAW who even knows my real name… so if it gets out, I know exactly whose arse to kick,” Storm grinned, although it was the grin of someone used to carrying out their threats, even when made playfully. “I know you dommes are into humiliation games, but that one is off limits, okay?”

The waitress chose that inopportune moment to set down Storm's drink, but she simply chuckled and seized gratefully upon the fresh source of caffeine.

[BlackAkuma]

This was nice.

The Morrigan - Jack, whatever - hadn't done something like in a long while. Sitting down with someone over breakfast, just chilling and talking, with nothing sexually adjacent going on at the moment. While she and Sabine ate out sometimes, it was usually when they were heading to or back from business, amped up or winding down. Not that she had any problems with her partner in a social setting, but the two of them always kept a certain distance by default.

This was nicer, more personable, warmer. Hanging out and spending time with a woman she was increasingly suspecting wanted to spend a good deal more time with her.

Jack leaned back and let her legs slip out a bit further, making it that much easier for them to rub together under the table. She still had some residual tingles from their sexual escapades, but she was doing a good enough job of keeping herself controlled and adhering to societal norms. She might break them, just a touch, in a minute or two, though.

She chuckled along at the backstory with her parents and the middle name as she waved off the X-Men joke. ”Naming you after a crazy random thing that shows up out of nowhere and wrecks everyone’s shit. Sounds about right.” As if she were one to talk. Even so, she braced for what came next, expecting Storm’s real name to be something awful and cringy. Hortense or Prudence or Olga or…

Edith. Huh.

Jack took a moment to roll the name around in her head, trying it on Storm. It wasn’t the best fit now, of course, but there was a sweetness to it. A softness she saw more and more in the woman as the day went on.

”I think it’s a pretty name.” She decided after a moment. ”Little old-ladyish, sure. But you’ll probably be an old lady someday. Might grow into it.”

It was a lovely thought, and she entertained it as the waitress returned with their drinks. Just water for Jack, she was extremely dehydrated and needed a pure refuel in the worst way. She brought up the menu and gave it one final scan before looking up at their server. ”I’ll have the tam…tamo…” Ugh, she couldn't get the word out; it sounded weird on her tongue. After a second, she gave up and just pointed to the picture. ”That, please.”

Jack waited for Storm to place her order, then handed off the menu as the waitress walked away before easing back into the chair with a sigh. ”Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Discretion is, like, the number one thing when it comes to my line of work, trust me. You work with people who really, really don’t want the world to know what they’re doing in a remote hotel at ten o’clock at night. The first time that gets out, your career’s pretty much done, doesn’t matter how good you are. Guys won’t even touch you, you’re radioactive.”

Jack wasn’t kidding, either. If anything, she was underselling. When she’d first started, Sabine had told her all kinds of horror stories about dommes that fizzled out because they let that sort of stuff slip out. One bad review could cost you thousands.

She tipped her head to the side, curious, as a thought occurred. ”So, wait, you’ve got a partner, right?” A beat passed before she added on. ”Tag partner, I mean. She doesn’t know your real name, either? I’m the only only one?”

[hamish1024]

There. Her secret was out. Her first name was somewhat silly. Storm braced herself for the inevitable ribbing, watching intently as Morrigan mulled over this information. Her eyes widened in disbelief as the goth declared it pretty, and that she could grow into it.

“Pfft, don’t get cute with me,” the blushing Storm said dismissively, giving the other girl a gentle kick in the shin by way of protest. “It’s going to be a long time before I take up knitting.” She didn’t say it, but she was again pleasantly surprised at the black-haired woman’s gentleness when it came to personal matters; it contrast to her fierce looks, it was strangely reassuring, and made her easy to talk to.

Storm’s stomach was rumbling again as the waitress arrived. She couldn’t even work out what Morrigan was trying to order, but she sympathised at the difficult menu.

“It’s a damn shame you don’t have Lorne sausage. Scottish hangover cure of choice. I guess haggis is out of the question?”

The server’s face remained impassive.

“Okay… uh… some fruit and yoghurt… and then a LOT of fried bread and bacon please,” Storm shrugged. “I need vitamins, but I also need an ungodly amount of grease,” she grinned by way of explanation to Morrigan, as the waitress went back to the kitchen. “I can just about handle my booze, but I don’t hit it that heavily that often, I can tell my liver is out of practice.”

Storm nodded slowly as Morrigan – Jack, now, she supposed – swore herself to secrecy. It seemed genuine, especially with her spiel about the domme code of honour, and Storm found herself inclined to believe it.

“You do seem quite trustworthy,” she confessed. “Hell, even our brawl last night was less dirty than I expected, given the lack of rules. Hard but fair, I guess… plus you did honour the stakes, I give you that,” she added with a lewd grin.

“Yup, you’re the only only one, probably in the whole country right now, who knows my secret name,” Storm giggled somewhat girlishly at Jack’s surprise. “You’re just that good at teasing secrets out of people!” she joked.

“But yeah, my partner, Lyssa she, er…” Storm exhaled thoughtfully, as she wrestled with how to describe the blue-haired little sociopath to someone who’d never met her.

“She never thought to ask, I guess. And I wasn’t about to tell her. If she senses a weakness to exploit – any kind of weakness, really – she will hit you over the head with it. I’m sure if I confided that to her, I’d wake up with ‘EDITH’ written across my face in permanent marker.”

Storm grimaced at the thought. She was being playful, but in hindsight it was exactly the kind of prank Lyssa loved. “So yeah, discretion’s not really her thing. Hmm, actually… you remember how I told you last night that she’d been dabbling in a little bit of domme work? Well now that you say all that stuff about secrecy, it really makes me think she might be extremely unsuited to it. Huh.”

Storm scratched her nose indifferently as the realisation sunk in. “Eh, wouldn’t be the first time she’s charged into something without thinking it through. Anyway, her problem, not mine. As you might have guessed, me and Lyss aren’t exactly soul mates. The tag partnership is more of a… practical arrangement. Probably for the best. Keeps us a bit sharper in the ring, you know? Clear-eyed? Going into fights alongside a lover probably gets a bit messy anyway.”

“Sorry, I’m babbling,” Storm blinked, as she realised she might have inadvertently put her foot in it. “I don’t mean to be rude. If you and Sabine are all soul mates or whatever, that’s cool.”

[BlackAkuma]

”In my defense, you are insanely cute. Especially for a woman who knocked me out less than twelve hours ago.” That definitely wasn’t the word that Jack would’ve used to describe Storm when they’d first met, no, and probably not the one she would’ve used during their wild sexcapades. But now, in the light of day, as they talked, spilled secrets, and shared this warm, oddly wholesome moment? It kind of fit. Her adorable bashfulness worked for Jack. A vulnerability that made Jack want to hug her.

And not even a sensual groping hug, either. A genuine hug.

She waved off the second part with a snicker as she brought the glass up. ”You never know, you might like knitting. It’s oddly calming.” Sip, sip, sip. “Can teach you sometime if you like, it’s not hard.” Not an offer she would give out to just anyone, but one that she felt good about. Honestly, it would almost be worth it for the image of two big bitch like them spending an afternoon knitting up sweaters like old bitties.

The mention of haggis brought a faint smile to Jack’s face, a little tinge of nostalgia. She hadn't eaten it in a long while, but her cousin from Scotland would make some whenever she came over on holiday. Good stuff. Taste was tied to memories, and it brought quite a few back, making her think of simpler times and letting a warm comfort seep in.

It might not have seemed like much, but she took Storm calling her trustworthy as about the highest complement she could get. It was a lot coming from a woman she’d only just met, regardless of how they were clicking, and she could tell the name thing was sacred to her new…friend? Lover? Fuckbuddy? She didn’t want to put names on things just yet and risk overreaching.

Jack leaned in as the subject shifted to Lyssa, Storm’s partner, a topic she’d been passively curious about for a while. She’d been building her own mental picture of the woman, trying to visualize who she was and who she was to the big Scot, and hearing how she was being talked about now, she wasn’t too enthused by what came out. Lyssa, frankly, sounded a little toxic. Storm was a big gal, a damn big gal, and could handle herself, so she didn’t want to coddle her, but she couldn't help tinges of worry slipping in.

She tabled the thought for now, wanting to gather a bit more data before she made any hasty assumptions, as the topic turned to her own partner. ”Soul mates? Nah. Sabine’d never mark up my face while we slept, mind you, but…” She tipped her head the Scot’s way before she leaned back and slumped in the chair.

”She’s the opposite of me in a lot of ways. Neat. Pristine. Professional. More than you’d expect from a woman who wrestles close to topless.” She chuckled at the thought, still remembering how she’d reacted the first time she'd seen Sabine’s look. ”She’s very…German. I feel like that’s a little bigoted, but she kind of is what you’d think of. We live together, fuck from time to time, but she likes to keep this wall up, doesn’t get too personal. Could probably get past the wall if I really tried, but I don’t think it’s worth the effort. Can’t really see us getting too close.”

Jack held the mental image for a few more seconds, trying to make it work, but she just… couldn’t. It was like her brain didn’t have the processing power to do it. ”How’d you and Lyssa meet?” Just from the way Storm was talking about her, she could guess there was an interesting story.

[hamish1024]

Storm shuffled in her seat with a hint of shyness as Jack called her cute. She wasn’t an idiot; Storm knew she had a killer body and good looks, but she still wasn’t used to receiving compliments like that, especially since she scorned makeup and rarely dolled herself up. And even more so when the compliments came from someone possessing of such starkly gothic beauty as Jack.

“Well, you’re insane AND cute,” she countered. “In fact, you’re the prettiest girl that ever pulled a bar down on my head,” Storm smiled, deflecting as best she could. She found it inwardly funny that they’d navigated a depraved night of whisky-fuelled bondage smothers quite effortlessly, but managing the heartfelt niceties of affectionate small talk was making them blush awkwardly. Still, she was enjoying the latent chemistry immensely.

Storm then snorted involuntarily at the latest revelation, that Jack practiced knitting, of all things. Spluttering, she had to bring a hand to her mouth to avoid spraying the tablecloth with coffee.

“You? Knitting?” she exclaimed, narrowing her eyes as she tried to determine if she was being had. “Actually… I suppose I can see that.” Now that she’d seen Jack’s gentler side, the mental image of a goth war goddess carefully crafting a sweater didn’t seem quite so far-fetched.

“Knitting lessons could be useful, can never have too many layers in a Scottish winter. Hell, could combine them with the domme lessons you offered, I could be stitching and pearling or whatever whilst sitting on the subbie’s face,” Storm smiled. “I’m joking of course, it looks really fiddly, I think the poor guy would asphyxiate before I slung out a half-decent scarf.”

Storm focused her gaze as the topic turned to the more serious subject of tag team partners. The goth’s description of Sabine as her inverse - and by extension, Jack identifying herself as a messy, chaotic amateur - was interesting, to say the least. Jack was evidently very self-aware, but Storm wondered if it was almost to a fault. Did the domme even *want* to be more professional? Or was she outsourcing all the sensible stuff to this Sabine woman? She remembered Jack’s background was in pit fights, where too often talent would get crowded out by the sheer thuggery of blood, sweat and violence. From what Storm had seen, Jack’s raw ability deserved better than that - she could only hope that Sabine was putting it to good use.

Storm found herself pleased, though, at the admission that S+M weren’t too emotionally entwined beyond ‘occasional fuck buddy’ status. It seemed like there was a distinct possibility Storm could have Jack *to herself*, which was unexpectedly heart-lifting, even at this very early stage in their relationship.

“I’ve nothing against Germans,” Storm opined non-committaly, “but I get what you mean with the ‘ruthless efficiency’ thing. It’s not a *bad* trait in wrestling though, to be honest.”

Storm didn’t say it, but if the Morrigan had been more ruthlessly efficient in their last match, she would have doubtlessly destroyed the Scot.

On the subject of partners, they inevitably swung back around to Lyssa. Storm glanced around the bistro, hoping that the breakfast might arrive as a distraction from this topic, but no such luck. She didn’t want to lie to Jack, exactly, but Storm fretted that the whole messy truth of that partnership would paint her in a bad light.

“We, er, were in the same promotion. Bitter rivals to begin with. I was pretty established there, a respectable face, if you can believe it. She was an up-and-comer, desperate to make a name for herself by any means possible. Moving fast, breaking things, I guess her collision course with me was inevitable. She’s not a big girl, I kicked her ass a few times, but I didn’t take her seriously enough. She kept pushing the rivalry, doing run-ins, pranks, a real irritant.”

Storm sighed and shifted in her chair. “Not a great period for me, career-wise. Playing face wasn’t working out, whilst Lyssa was breaking all the rules and boundaries, and getting quite the following from it. I foolishly accepted a pretty high-stakes POW match, and she won with some pretty blatant cheating. I could have been bitter, but it made me realise some pretty harsh truths about this industry.”

Storm shuddered slightly. Being Lyssa’s league-sanctioned plaything had not been a pleasant experience. She glossed over that part.

“So, yeah, I realised I like winning more than anything else, and Lyssa’s an excellent opportunist. She was smart enough to ditch the rivalry and accept the team up. My size and her sneakiness seems to work well together. Still, I see it as a means to an end. Once I’ve mastered the dark arts of the ring myself, I’ll probably ditch her.”

Weird thing to admit to a woman you’ve not long met, but Storm was keen to emphasise that her relationship with Lyssa was a transactional one at heart.

“Hope that doesn’t make me sound like too much of a bitch,” she added with an awkward smile.