Storm raised her eyebrows as Sabine tapped her nose, seemingly considering her points about dealing with Morrigan’s rough edges. Still, there was a hint of condescension in the German’s response, which may or may not have been down to her normal brusque and businesslike demeanour. Storm tutted but said nothing.
Sabine was similarly sneering, albeit subtly, on the subject of Morrigan and sex. Storm was initially surprised, given her first-hand experience of the Irishwoman’s lively libido, but the nature of Sabine’s comments were quite enlightening, on consideration. Of course the redhead didn’t care for the chaotic variables of a three-way, they absolutely upset her control-freak nature. Where Storm was intoxicated by Morrigan’s insatiable whims and creativity, able to switch between top and bottom based on the vibes of the moment, she could imagine Sabine would be frustrated by her partner.
“I’m sure she was messing with me, then. I do know what you mean,” Storm replied indifferently. “Personally I think Jack’s amazing. Maybe it’s because it’s the first lesbian hook-up I’ve had where *I* get to be the dainty little one,” she grinned playfully. “But yeah, talk about getting aches in muscles you never knew you had…” Storm started to enthuse about Jack’s bedroom performance, before realising it probably wasn’t the most tactful of subjects.
“Ahh, brilliant!” Storm beamed as the work with the restraining cuffs finally bore fruit, and Sabine pulled away. She slowly clambered upright. Being sat at Sabine’s feet had been a slightly chastening experience, even if the German had dealt with it gracefully, and Storm enjoyed being able to stand tall again. She still had a slight sheen of stale sweat from her earlier spar, which made her feel a tad dishevelled compared to the radiant redhead, but at least Storm wasn’t completely helpless now.
“I appreciate that you could have, um, taken advantage there, but you didn’t, you helped me out, so thank you,” Storm smiled.
She rolled her neck and shoulder blades, and stretched her slightly stiff arms. This had the unintended effect of pushing her chest up and out, which when combined with her low-cut top, displayed a lot more cleavage than she meant to.
“Damn right you’ve got to stay sharp. I’m always saying to Morrigan that she needs more match practice, and passing time with tied-up subbies is no substitute for the ring, but I digress.”
Storm couldn’t quite hide the flicker of disapproval at Morrigan’s domme work, though it wasn’t a fervent dislike. It was more a matter of scheduling - hours spent with clients were hours not spent with her.
“What kind of training you doing?” Storm asked personably. “Quite a neat setup here, with your own private ring. Using your free time well. That’s got to help with staying sharp.”
Storm glanced around. With no sign of Morrigan, she was obviously at a bit of a loss as to what to do next, given her original plans involving her lover appeared to have gone out the window.
Romantic Entanglements
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Re: Romantic Entanglements
‘Jack’.
It wasn’t the first time Storm had used that name in this conversation, but this time it drew Sabine’s attention and held it, making her perk up. It was only natural that Morrigan would have shared her real name with someone she sought a more serious relationship with; that wasn’t surprising. But it was interesting that she choose that name over the more theatrical one. Even Sabine typically defaulted to her stage name. It suited the woman more, in her estimation, and while the big bruiser would say she didn’t care which one she used, she had also gotten the impression she preferred the grander title.
An interesting note, and one she mulled on as Storm rose to her full, imposing form. The two of them seemed of the same height, but the differences in their bodies were stark, and on full display thanks to their outfits. Sabine’s body was athletic, yes, but she was thinner, slimmer, more compact. Storm’s body was fulsome and fierce, packed with curves and muscles. If the two of them collided, the Scot would bowl her over, every time.
”Perish the thought.” Sabine was quick to wave her hand away at the idea of ‘taking advantage’ of Storm. ”Tease as I do, play as I might, I would never take such liberties with an unwilling participant. Consent is everything.”
Besides, she could only imagine the wrath that would bring upon her when Morrigan returned. Sabine would rather half of her home not be destroyed by an enraged Irishwoman, thank you.
She nodded as Storm voiced her approval and gestured about them. ”Would you believe it came with the house? Apparently, the previous occupant was a wrestler of some fame in the area, long retired. A fortunate find, well worth the extra we paid. Aside from training, it’s fairly popular with our clients, as I’m sure you can imagine. It’s already paid for itself, many times over.” She began strolling about the perimeter, hands tracing along the ropes as she went.
”I had hoped to do some rope-running, working on my falls, et cetera. With an added body and time to kill, however, I now think there might be something more interesting on offer.” She brought her hands behind her back and strolled closer to Storm, as she brought out her most playful of smiles. ”Sparring, perhaps? If you still have the stamina for it after your ordeal. I would love to have a taste of the power that brought the Goddess of War to heel.”
It wasn’t the first time Storm had used that name in this conversation, but this time it drew Sabine’s attention and held it, making her perk up. It was only natural that Morrigan would have shared her real name with someone she sought a more serious relationship with; that wasn’t surprising. But it was interesting that she choose that name over the more theatrical one. Even Sabine typically defaulted to her stage name. It suited the woman more, in her estimation, and while the big bruiser would say she didn’t care which one she used, she had also gotten the impression she preferred the grander title.
An interesting note, and one she mulled on as Storm rose to her full, imposing form. The two of them seemed of the same height, but the differences in their bodies were stark, and on full display thanks to their outfits. Sabine’s body was athletic, yes, but she was thinner, slimmer, more compact. Storm’s body was fulsome and fierce, packed with curves and muscles. If the two of them collided, the Scot would bowl her over, every time.
”Perish the thought.” Sabine was quick to wave her hand away at the idea of ‘taking advantage’ of Storm. ”Tease as I do, play as I might, I would never take such liberties with an unwilling participant. Consent is everything.”
Besides, she could only imagine the wrath that would bring upon her when Morrigan returned. Sabine would rather half of her home not be destroyed by an enraged Irishwoman, thank you.
She nodded as Storm voiced her approval and gestured about them. ”Would you believe it came with the house? Apparently, the previous occupant was a wrestler of some fame in the area, long retired. A fortunate find, well worth the extra we paid. Aside from training, it’s fairly popular with our clients, as I’m sure you can imagine. It’s already paid for itself, many times over.” She began strolling about the perimeter, hands tracing along the ropes as she went.
”I had hoped to do some rope-running, working on my falls, et cetera. With an added body and time to kill, however, I now think there might be something more interesting on offer.” She brought her hands behind her back and strolled closer to Storm, as she brought out her most playful of smiles. ”Sparring, perhaps? If you still have the stamina for it after your ordeal. I would love to have a taste of the power that brought the Goddess of War to heel.”
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