Romantic Entanglements

[hamish1024]

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.

[BlackAkuma]

‘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.”

[hamish1024]

Storm smiled as Sabine waved away her concerns about being taken advantage of. As with her partner Morrigan, it was clear that consent was key for these women. Of course, Storm well knew that once you *had* signed up for a scrap with the Morrigan, the gloves would well and truly be off, and the same would surely hold true for Sabine, in an official setting at least.

“Still, I appreciate the hospitality,” nodded Storm. “I wish Lyssa was as good at the whole ‘boundaries’ thing. She could learn a thing or two from you about manners,” she added somewhat ruefully.

The Scot nodded as she surveyed the ring. “Talk about taking your work home with you… I do like it though. Puts my place to shame. Seems like everyone has a side hustle these days.” Storm allowed herself a brief sad thought about her own rather Spartan living arrangements, having taken the default accommodation offered to LAW newbies and, unlike her partner, never sought to upgrade. Storm hadn’t come to Japan for the business opportunities, though.

The big brunette grinned and felt a familiar tingle of anticipation as Sabine suggested a spar.

“Yeah, I’d be happy to,” she beamed, already looking forward to the endorphin hit of a fresh challenge. “Surely can’t go any worse than my last spar,” she smiled, self-deprecating, with a nod to the handcuffs.

“Oh, I would hardly class that as an ordeal. Don’t worry about my stamina, I’m pretty much always up for a fight, and that’s before Jack made sure I had a nice long enforced sit down rest,” she smiled as she stretched in preparation.

“I can’t quite claim it was raw power that brought the war goddess to heel… putting her through a table certainly helped, but I don’t propose doing that today. And actually, ‘bringing her to heel’ is definitely overselling it, to put it mildly!” she giggled. “I had more than my fair share of bruises after that match, I can tell you!” Storm’s eyes flickered briefly with a memory of the pain.

The Scot bounced lightly on her heels and began to circle the ring, clearly looking forward to getting her hands on Sabine. “Standard submissions sparring, yes? You’re not actively looking to be thrown through furniture?” she grinned playfully as she shaped for a test of strength with the other woman.

[BlackAkuma]

Again with this Lyssa woman. Sabine didn’t want to cast aspersions of a woman she had never met, knowing full well how people could come off harsher in retellings. Even in their short time in LAW, rumors abounded about S+M, talk of them abducting women in the halls of the arena and dragging them into heated orgies. Nonsense, all of it, though she wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t make for an arousing picture.

But to hear such talk coming from her own partner spoke volumes. ”Perhaps I will have the opportunity to teach her someday. To hear you tell it, she seems like quite the wayward soul.”

That was a meeting she would look forward to, but for now, she had more than enough on her hands. Storm didn’t strike her as the sort of woman to ever turn down a fight - Morrigan would never stand for such a weakwilled partner. Sure enough, she accepted, and Sabine began bouncing on the balls of her feet, getting her blood flowing and her heart beating.

”Oh, you certainly don’t have to tell me that.” Sabine threw out a few practice jabs, briefly shadow-boxing. ”I genuinely thought Morrigan had been in a car crash when I first laid eyes on her after your match. She was a ruined mess for days, and yet oddly content.” She had a slim smile at the thought. ”I could have done without cleaning the blood out of the shower, mind you, but that’s the life we’ve chosen.”

The two of the circled, with Sabine keeping her steps light and bouncing, maintaining a loose stance. ”Yes, I would prefer my rather expensive furniture not be destroyed, if at all possible. And you’ve read my mind, submissions are perfect. Though you’re a bold woman, challenging a dominatrix to a submissions match, of all things.”

Her bouncing came to a sudden stop, and she moved forward with arms raised. ”Let’s see how bold.”

In she came, locking horns with the bigger woman and accepting her test of strength. It was a contest she expected to lose, but even so, it would give her a good idea of the power Storm could bring to bear, show her precisely what sort of woman she was tangling with. She braced her feet, hunkered down, and gave the effort her all.

[hamish1024]

Storm gave a flat snort of amusement at the thought of Sabine trying to teach Lyssa a lesson in manners, but said nothing. She envisaged such a meeting would go very, very badly for at least one of the women, if not both.

The Scotswoman’s face formed a thoughtful pout as she listened to Sabine recount the damage that first match had wrought on Morrigan. The goth herself hadn’t gone into too much detail, almost making it seem a point of pride that she’d shrugged it off, though there was no hiding much of the hardcore match’s after effects, all too visible on her naked body. Storm herself had been guilty of downplaying the damage too, at least to Jack. She wasn’t quite sure why; maybe she didn’t want the statuesque domme thinking she was soft, or that she couldn’t keep up with Morrigan’s fearsome capacity for violence. Or maybe she was just as stubbornly proud. In any event, they both seemed enamoured of the fact their relationship had been forged in fire.

“Oof, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Storm confided. “After that brawl, the medics ordered me to stay clear of the ring for at least a week, for some healing time. Jack came very close to doing me some permanent damage. Don’t tell her I said that, though, don’t want it going to her head,” Storm smiled sardonically.

“Surprised you keep expensive furniture around Morrigan,” she deadpanned. Storm was under no illusions that a spar with Sabine would be a very different proposition than a hardcore bout with the Irish hellion, though. Getting an idea of her technique would be interesting, but Storm already knew the redhead was no bar brawler. She’d gotten the sense that the two dommes somewhat corrected deficiencies in each other’s styles, though Sabine was still a fairly big girl herself, even if Storm was broader and beefier in build.

The brunette smiled as Sabine commented on her choice of submissions falls. “Well we can’t have pins, you might cheat the 3 count,” Storm quipped, her tongue protruding impishly. She circled a little, psyching herself up for the impending clash.

“Could have gone smothers, but I’m not sure what Morrigan would say if she came back to find me sitting on your face.” Storm smirked in gentle provocation, watching her opponent’s inscrutable eyes for a reaction to that.

The spar got underway. To Storm’s surprise, Sabine came at her head-on, locking hands in direct acceptance of the test of strength. Her stance was firm, and Storm grunted as she was caught off-guard, ceding a couple of steps to Sabine’s opening shove. This woman was no slouch.

Bullying Storm backwards was a tough ask, though. As the brunette realised she was in for a real contest, she buckled down, muscles straining, and stopped Sabine in her tracks. Slowly, the Scotswoman was able to bring her full strength to bear, groaning with effort as she forced her opponent back. Raising her arms, she tried to force Sabine downwards into a subservient position, where she could transition into a controlling side headlock.

[BlackAkuma]

Oh, secrets. Sabine did love a good little secret. She leaned in close as Storm shared hers,though, in all honesty, it turned out to not being that surprising. She frankly wouldn’t have been shocked if they did themselves some sort of permanent damage in that match, and she was reasonably sure they had, at the very least, shortened their careers. She doubted either of them would complain about that, though.

”I’ve a taste for the finer things.” She shrugged at the mention of her decor. ”One of us has to. I’m fairly certain Morrigan would just have us sitting on beanbags and futons if she had her way.” In fact, it had taken no small amount of wrangling to get the woman to agree on the actual couch in their living room, as she recalled.

Truth told, she wouldn’t have minded a little smother action with Storm. While she wasn’t a switch, she was a firm believer that a domme shouldn’t have a problem taking any punishment they give out, though she would’ve much preferred to be on the giving end. ”A terrible prospect, I’m sure. Next time, perhaps.” She threw the woman a sly wink as her eyes slid towards those fulsome hips. ”Do not be so quick to count me out, however. I might not have the same…talents as you and Morrigan, but I am not without my own gifts. My breast smothers in particular are nothing to be ashamed of.” She gave her chest a quick bounce for emphasis. ”Or so I’ve been told.”

With the pleasantries set aside for the time being, the two of them engaged, locking horns in the middle of the ring and vying for position. Sabine tried to hold her own, and at first she had some success, but then Storm brought her full power to bear and she was forced to wither. Bit by bit, inch by inch, she was brought low, until she was in a prime position to be snatched away and trapped in the side headlock.

A good transition, but Sabine knew the answer for it. Instead of trying to pull her head free, a futile gesture, she back up into the rope, bounced off them, and used their momentum to push at Storm’s back, attempting to send her running off to the opposite side of the ring.