L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

"HA!" The sound that erupted from Tanner's throat wasn't exactly a laugh, or even a bark. If anything it was less a sound at all and more hardened lava: disdain held like fire in the belly of the Earth, erupting through the cavern of her throat, and forming a black, jagged stone the moment it met the air. Less of a scorch, maybe, than what Tanner really had in her heart of hearts for this bubblegum strawberry bitch, but God willing, a big-ass rock could still shatter skulls.

Because, really, if Little Little Bitch couldn't even hang with Big Little Bitch, a verbal boulder on her skullcap was the least of her worries.

"Vanilla! You gonna take that from her? Gonna let Mumbles roll up on you like that?" Tanner sneered. "Yeaaaah. I bet you will. You run that pretty little mouth of yours aaaall the goddamn time, but I know your type. The chihuahua who thought she was a Great Dane. Am I wrong?" This time she did laugh. "I mean, seriously, we've all got you pegged. In more ways than one. Me, Yuri—"

It took half a second, if that. The moment Tanner reminded herself that there was one more in their little fourway, her eyes flickered over. And just from that tiny little peek, she realized that her roommate was gone.

Not that Corrine had literally left the table. Hell, Tanner didn't think she could've gotten her butt out of that seat if King Arthur himself ordered Corrine to do it. She might not have even heard the words, the way her eyes were glazed over.

Corrine DuPage sat stock still, upright but only as firm as Jello on the Fourth of July. Her shoulders trembled with every breath, and her thousand-yard stare shot laser beams right through the purple-haired girl she'd been pussyfooting around for the last twenty minutes.

Yeah. Tanner knew that look. The basement was absolutely flooded out in House DuPage, thanks to that little spat Yuri and Nat just had. Or, more accurately, the way one of them just admitted to bouncing on dragon dick like it was a trampoline. To getting her pussy licked by her teammates, and stuffing them all full of the biggest dildos she can find in revenge. The only question was: Which side of things was Corrine dreaming about?

A devious idea took root in Tanner's mind, and she smiled cruelly.

Suddenly, she waved her earlier point away. "Everyone's got you covered. See, I think you're the kind of pervert who'll lose her goddamn mind gettin' split in half by anything bigger than my thumb. Squirting all over the place. Drooling all over those ant-bites you call tits. Then poor Yuri-kins over here thinks you're some stone-faced Peloton instead of LAW's own village bicycle. Dunno where she got that idea, but you're tryna say that you're above it all, aren't you? Some... Casanova, slangin' wood like she got a real one between her legs. Balls full of the white stuff for that 'thrrrrrust' you got goin' on." She drilled a rhythm into the table with the head of the dragon dildo. Tap. Tap. Tap. Each with a slow, smirking shake of her head. "But I know the game you're playing."

"T-Tanner..." Corrine's admonishment came with a shudder, and Tanner knew. Her grin grew wide and fierce.

"Talking a bigger mess than anyone I know." Thwack. "Sayin' you're a real pro at this—" Knock. "—and a sex goddess at that." Ka-dunk. "That you're anythin' but the little lowercase-a-cup two-foot-nothin' bitch—" She booped Natsuki on the nose with the tip of the cock. "—that you've looked like since the day I met you." Finally, she leaned back, ass on the brim of the table, and shrugged. "Maybe it's true. Looks can be deceiving. I know I've seen some tiny-ass chicks pull off some nasty shit here in LAW. But I gotta see it to believe it."

Tanner set the dildo down, base on the wood and tip spiring high to the sky.

"Show me."

Yuri liked to believe that she was cautious in her approach to life, that as many flaws as she might exhibit in her day to day dealings with others, she was at least thoughtful.

In fact, Yuri was realizing, this ascribed to herself far too much imagination—as if she could imagine the worst.

At first, Yuri had reminded herself that she asked for this, which was, of course, true. She'd even felt a hot note of excitement — dare she say pride? — when the famously cutting Tanner responded so...vigorously to Yuri's swipe. But then Tanner kept going, and Yuri's skin started to pull tight around her bones.

She repeatedly, intentionally set herself up until she was intolerable.

But now that excuse was becoming a talisman, a thin and dishonest sacrament akin to I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Yuri's hands pressed into the tabletop until the nail plate turned white, and she could see a thin yellow line just below the nail. A miniscule amount of dirt you just couldn't scrub out in the shower. Then she realeased the pressure and watched the skin turn beige. Tanner was still talking, and tapping, so enthusiastic and loud. A detached fleck of Yuri's mind, floating somewhere numb, noted that for all her devil-may-care affects, Tanner spoke with the talent and intention of a calculating orator. It was an observation that hung in the same space that noticed Tanner's affinity for Matcha, and the way she had — until now — submitted to Corrine's little reprimands.

Tanner would finish soon. She couldn't keep on talking forever. Soon, she'd twist her last knife, and they could move on, and Natsuki...

There was a block in Yuri's mind when it turned towards Natsuki, a kind of magnetic repulsion of the same type as the one that had turned Yuri's eyes to her cuticles.

"Show me."

Oh no. Oh no no no. Nooooooo. No.

Except, well, Yuri's lips weren't quite cooperating, but she could shake her head! Vigorously!

"Mm...mm! Mmm-mm!"

"...What do you mean no, Yuri?" Natsuki's voice was like a clenched fist. Yuri breathed.

"...It...would be—unsanitary. Sh...sharing our um..."

"Ooooohohoho. OK. So I'm vanilla, and I'm dirty now? Too dirty for your precious dragon cock, Yuri?"

Yuri often dreamed about Natsuki. Or, more accurately, she had dreams that featured Natsuki—usually furious for reasons either unclear or irrational. An unstated murder with a knife perhaps. Waking up was always nearly worth it, the relief was so intense. Perhaps something like that could happen soon...?

Yuri, timidly, looked up from her fingers. Natsuki glared back at her. Her body was rigid and her cheeks were deeply red.

"It's just...not a good idea Natsuki..."

"Oh? And why is that, Yuri?"

"I...um..." Yuri blanched. Something about the look in Natsuki's eyes unsettled her. It was as if there was something pleading underneath the grit teeth and clenched fists. "I'm sorry..."

And then the look was gone, as Natsuki rolled her eyes and stood up. "Yeeeeah, well." She grabbed the dildo around its center. It flopped like a shake-it weight, then slapped on her shoulder when she folded her arms. "You better be, Yuri, 'cause I'm gonna make you eat all that absolute CRAP you just said and freakin...swallow. You and..." Her eyes shifted to Tanner. Her grin lengthened in proportion to how her cheeks pinkened. She shut her eyes. "Yeah, ESPECIALLY you, sweet cheeks. Lemme just say, when I'm done, an apology, ain't gonna cut it, OK? I'll be expecting...c-compensation! For your bullcrap!" Compensation? What? "Fff. C'mon!" She pushed her seat out with her butt and started stalking away. "Looks like we're going to my room."

"Compensation!" Tanner guffawed, watching Natsuki stomp away. "What, you wanna sit on my face if you don't get broken in half?" She snorted, kicking her chair aside and starting to follow suit. "Fuckin' deal. Fussy little bitch like you would think that's a threat, huh? News flash: I like pussy. Long as it don't talk back."

The bickers trailed into background noise, following the louder two of Corrine's companions through the hall, but the Hedge Knight herself simply chewed on her cheek. How had it come to this? She'd crossed a hundred lines, that much she knew, but simply asking the wrong question rarely spiraled out of control so quickly. Now so many cats were out of so many bags, and something—something was about to happen.

Corrine groaned, a low crackling in her throat. When she opened her eyes, they slid to the table, and the noise peaked.

Her chair slid back. They'd left the matcha set on the table. That simply would not do. A brief breath, a press of her lips against each other, and then she stood. Upright, yet loose. Always loose. Proper as can be.

Corrine glided across the table, emptying chawan and stacking them. The water was still warm enough to rinse with, so she dipped their chasen into the bowl and let them drip to dry. Any residual moisture was swiftly wicked away. Napkins folded, bags were sealed. Bowls were stacked and left concentric, large to small. Even the tablecloth was straightened out where it had been sent askew.

Everything was sorted.

It would all have to be washed and stored away eventually, but for now she could be pleased with stealing a march on that front. Corrine allowed herself a satisfied nod, then looked back to the hallway her compatriots were walking down.

"Hm?"

Their third was there now, too. When had she left the table? Corrine hadn't noticed her while cleaning. Yuri trailed well behind Natsuki and Tanner, and the gap was only growing. Even a frame that had been shrunk so often as hers seemed somehow miniscule as she shuffled along the hardwood. Corrine gripped the tablecloth and huffed.

Corrine speedwalked down the hall until she found herself apace with Yuri. She turned and smiled and bent over ever so slightly to peek beneath her long purple locks. "Hi," she said, gentle and kind. Her hands laced together in front. "Are you... How are you feeling?"

Natsuki was right about one thing: Whatever they were about to do should not be new territory for any of them. It appeared that Yuri and Natsuki were, as a dyad, beyond familiar with one another. And it wasn't as if the Young Lionesses as a whole strayed away from the sexual aspects of their competitions. Far from it, actually. But... them, and with her -- not to mention the Tanith Del Rio of it all. Something about all of this felt...

Well. If she could put her finger on it, things would be a lot better, wouldn't they?

"I..." Really, she should apologize. For overstepping my bounds, and worse, for letting things get out of control. And she would. But now was not the time to litigate. "You don't have to let me drag you into this, you know. Into whatever's going on now between—" She canted her head down the hall. "—between them. I'm sure that at this point, they wouldn't even notice." Corrine cringed, then tucked and rolled. "That is to say," she added carefully, "they're so caught up in this dare of theirs that, honestly, even I... I mean, if you wanted to, we could...?"

"Ooohoho. Trust me Tanner, you're not wrong. You're gonna enjoy yourself alright, like you haven't in a long time..."

Yuri felt like a ghost phasing imperceptibly from one reality to another, unconsciously exploring different versions of her pocket of the world.

Mere moments ago, Tanner had unloaded on Natsuki the kinds of insults that would have made it challenging for Yuri to roll out of bed in the morning—attacks that would not merely have blown holes in her psychological walls but would have then set fires to her basement that would leave her smelling smoke the rest of the month.

And yet. The way they trotted ahead together now, half grins, half glares, flushed, bickering like excited children...It wasn't precisely friendly, but—

"I..."

"Hm...?"

Ah, Corrine. Speaking of ghosts, the scion of house DuPage certainly knew how to sneak up on you.

As Corrine got into the meat of her speech, Yuri's head crooked a few degrees downward, enough so that her bangs fell forward and obscured her eyes. With one hand, she wove a strand of hair between her fingers, which she stroked absently—a look of far-away gloom, one might assume, were it not for the overheated blush on her cheeks and the almost imperceptible smile at the edge of her lips.

"I don't believe I've seen you discomfited before..." Yuri murmured. Her speech was an instinctive stream with her state of mind, until with a wince she realized that speech might be painful. "W-which is sweet—kind of you. It's kind of you to be so concerned for Natsuki. And myself, I suppose."

She felt compelled to add myself because even to Yuri, naming Natsuki alone felt hollow when she said it. Some shade of dishonest. Normally, Yuri could tolerate that kind of self-effacing dishonesty, which was a kind of hedged gambling—better to bet low and win.

But in this moment, Yuri felt two things. One was the warm buzz she often felt when Corrine's attention was on her, as if Corrine's thoughts emitted an invisible sunshine, and Yuri was a lizard warming its cold blood in the heat. The second was stranger, an unidentifiable mix of fear and guilt and happiness, that had begun when Corrine first tripped over her words. Recognition, perhaps, suited the feeling—though perhaps naming it was a mistake. It would be unthinkable to reveal any of it.

"...I mean, if you wanted to, we could...?"

Yuri's ears burned at the same time they perked up.

"Ahrm." Yuri coughed, as politely as she could, into a closed fist. The hand woven into her hair paused, turning slightly white as she tugged almost painfully on on the strand. She considered her words carefully. Or tried to, anyway, despite the deepening flush in her cheeks. "...They do, admittedly, seem...tied up in themselves. It's possible Natsuki might not even notice my absence." Though, if she did, Yuri knew, there would be a price to pay.

"What um...What kind of activity did you have in mind instead of...?"