4.10 - Locker Room Chat

Natalie would give it to Sofia. For how catastrophically she'd come to her twitching climax, she recovered with admirable speed.

She still hung there, pinned by her wrists to the locker, red-faced and panting—shaking from the aftermath—but her eyes started to clear up after just a few moments. It looked like it took a coordinated effort. Something she managed through willpower only.

"Do you—do you mind?" Sofia finally asked. She wiggled her wrists pointedly, which Natalie still had pinned above her head. 

Smirking, Natalie released her. With some effort, Sofia pushed off the lockers and into a standing position. She swayed slightly, her legs unsteady, but recovered. She pulled up her clothes, then looked around the room.

"I can't believe you did that," she said, sounding vaguely dismayed as she peered around the room. "Here. In a public locker room."

"I had illusions if I needed them," Natalie said dismissively. "Besides, you were the one begging for it. How are you gonna blame me for that?"

"I did no such thing as beg," Sofia said firmly. The flush on her cheeks hadn't gone away, but her composure had at least returned—sort of. She looked down at herself one more time, then shook her head. Cool blue eyes returned to Natalie. Rather than confident, as usual, or even vulnerable and needy as a moment before, Natalie read hesitance. "So. About … what you said."

"What I said?"

"At the star. About how you've wanted this. For so long. That's something we should talk about, isn't it?"

"Of course I've wanted this," Natalie said, briefly confused. She paused as the implication finally set in—how Sofia had interpreted those statements. "Oh. You think I meant—" Natalie laughed. "No, I just wanted to make you cum. That's what I've been waiting for." Natalie certainly didn't want Sofia, not in that way. She paused a second time as she realized she hadn't properly explained herself. "Er, and not even cum, specifically. Just to top you." Okay, this was coming out wrong. "As a matter of speech," she corrected hastily. "You know, because you're always winning, so I wanted my own chance to dominate you. That's all I meant."

Sofia stared at her.

Natalie flushed, embarrassed for the first time in the interaction. Half because of what she'd admitted to—even when interpreted correctly it was an embarrassing admission—and half because of what Sofia had first assumed, that Natalie had somehow wanted her. Looking back on that initial exchange, Natalie could see how Sofia hadn't understood properly.

Deflecting, Natalie said loudly, "Doesn't matter. Anyway, you're mine for the week. I'm not letting you go back on that."

Sofia studied Natalie for a second more, then frowned as she accepted the change in topic. She crossed her arms. For having been a complete mess a minute prior, Natalie really was impressed at how quickly she'd pulled herself together—as if she hadn't just been a twitching mess as Natalie worked her into a hot puddle of pleasure one minute prior.

Remembering that—and seeing Sofia pretend she was composed again—she was struck by a strange urge to pin the woman down and take her apart for a second time. Purely for the thrill of having the upper hand. Or to prove a point. That was the only reason.

"I'm a woman of my word," Sofia said. "So, yes, a bet is a bet. But what does that mean? 'Yours for a week'?"

"Means you're mine to do what I want with." She smirked, making it clear what that would include.

"You're serious?"

"You were the one going on about how you 'didn't get it'. Well, I don't think I'm done demonstrating." Natalie laughed. "Even if I'm pretty sure you get the point."

Sofia blushed, and she looked away. She sniffed. "It was … adequate. Better than I expected. But certainly not good enough to explain all of that." She waved vaguely in the direction of the exit of the locker room, meaning Sammy—and Natalie's other hook ups.

"Adequate?" Natalie asked. "You didn't last two full seconds after I went inside you."

"That's because … I was unusually compromised. Because of … " Sofia visibly searched out for an excuse, and Natalie would be amused if she wasn't annoyed at her persistent denial. "Because we were in public. I was worried about being caught."

"Uh-huh," Natalie said. "You're an exhibitionist? That's what you came up with?"

Sofia scoffed. "I'm just saying that it was more that than you."

Natalie stared at Sofia for a second, impressed at the denial and hoop-jumping this woman was going through, then, rather than being annoyed, found herself smiling.

"What?" Sofia demanded.

"Just looking forward to working out the truth. You're mine for the week. By the time I'm finished, I'm pretty sure you'll be ready to admit it."

Sofia glared. "I need to get dressed. If you don't mind?" She turned back to her locker and opened it.

"Sure," Natalie said. She settled onto the bench across from Sofia and leaned back. "But go slow, yeah?"

Sofia paused, then looked back to see Natalie having sat down, rather than left. Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"What part of 'mine for the week' don't you get?" Natalie asked. "This is just the start. You're gonna be doing a lot more than putting on a little show."

Sofia gaped at her. For a second, Natalie wondered whether she'd refuse. Of course, she wouldn't push Sofia into anything she actually seemed uncomfortable with—too much so, at least—but Natalie was getting the impression the protests were mostly, though not entirely, superficial in nature. Sofia obviously wasn't interested in Natalie, and neither was she her, but that didn't mean the white-haired girl hadn't been impressed by how Natalie had taken her apart. Staunch refusals or not, Sofia wanted another taste. Natalie could read that much.

"Fine," Sofia said. She turned to her locker and starting pulling out her regular clothes, prepping to change from her dueling uniform. "But since you're insisting on using this reward of yours for perverted favors—and I'm really not surprised—then there's some inappropriate topics I've been wanting to broach myself."

"Oh?"

"Namely your class. And," she paused, "you know. Your new equipment." She gave a pointed look toward Natalie's skirt.

Ah. Right—that. They had skipped over that whole discovery. She knew Sofia didn't mind too much, seeing how she hadn't reacted in the slightest—and even reached out to rub at her—but it was still something they should talk about.