Dungeons and Dalliances Ch. 160-169

"A voyeur?" Natalie asked, finally responding to Jordan. It had taken her a second to process what the other woman had said—then look at Sofia in a new light, her lips curling as she, like Jordan, made all sorts of wildly incorrect assumptions.

"A giant pervert," Jordan agreed. "Who likes to barge in and watch her friends fuck. Who can't tear her eyes away from your big, fat cock plowing into my pussy." She emphasized the statement by thrusting her ass into Natalie's hips with a loud smack. "I mean, look at her. That look on her face. I bet she's already wet. How gross."

Natalie laughed, and the demeaning sound of it sent a thrill through Sofia. A thrill of indignation. Not ... anything else.

"I guess I don't mind putting on a show," Natalie said. "But really, it's weird to barge in, then just stand there. Without without even asking."

"She's a pervert," Jordan agreed. "I guess we can't blame her. She's always been repressed."

"I—I came in here to tell you two that you'd be late," Sofia protested. "Trust me. I've learned my lesson on being polite."

The words felt limp, faint, and ridiculous, even to her own ears. The fact she was still glued to the spot, watching Natalie's movements become even more brutal as she hammered into Jordan, didn't do much to help her case.

Natalie's thrusts ... really had some power behind them. They left meaty claps as they hit Jordan, rippling her ass and thighs with each hard impact.

Natalie had learned how to use that thing in the short time she'd had it, hadn't she? And it was a menacing enough weapon in its own right. Jordan's fraying composure made sense. If Natalie ever plowed into her like that, Sofia doubted she'd keep her sanity intact for long, either.

Though, why was she thinking about that? Natalie using that gross thing on her? She couldn't imagine something she wanted less. Even the 'bet' was enough of an ordeal.

Natalie would be completely insufferable about sex. She would turn it into a competition—taunt, tease, and degrade her, making it clear who was the better. That Natalie knew what she was doing, and Sofia didn't. Like that event in the locker room. And when she extracted Sofia's climax, it would be in as embarrassing a way as possible.

Natalie would put her in her place. Pin her down and take her. No consideration. Just dominance.

Sofia watched, transfixed, as Natalie worked her hips. What would it be like, to be in Jordan's position? What would it feel like to have that pounding into her? Natalie's powerful hips, driving her thick cock deep inside, splitting her open with relentless force. Pounding so hard the bed rocked.

The idea ...

The idea disgusted her, of course.

"Hello? Anyone home?" Natalie said, jolting Sofia back to the moment. "Princess?"

Sofia's eyes flicked back up to Natalie's face. She realized she'd just been standing there, staring. Not responding. What had Natalie said?

Natalie looked amused, which didn't spell anything good. "Tell you what," she said, her voice taunting. "Since you want to watch so bad, come here. You can do it up close."

"... what?"

It actually took a second for the words to register. Why were her thoughts so sluggish?

"You heard her," Jordan said. Her tone was surprisingly lucid, her eyes bright with amusement. Sofia joining the fray had apparently cleared away some of her melting-down thoughts. She wanted to tease Sofia that badly. "Aren't you supposed to do whatever your Master says?"

Sofia stiffened. "Master?" Natalie had told Jordan about that? That was ... so humiliating. It was one thing to demand that of her in private, but her friends knowing?

Why ... did it make her stomach clench? Knowing that Jordan was aware of that mortifying development? Why was her traitorous body always responding like this?

And, even more relevantly, why was she obeying? Her feet carried her toward the bed, approaching Natalie like she'd been ordered to.

Because of the bet, Sofia told herself. And the collar. The collar which she was wearing—which she had buttoned her uniform up over, the shirt's collar fortunately tall enough to hide it. She'd known it would be better to keep it equipped, in case, well, something like this happened. She'd just expected Natalie to take advantage of the situation in class, not this early in the morning. And not with Jordan.

Though, the bet, and Natalie, wasn't remotely how this had happened. Sofia had walked into this mess. Voluntarily. Unnecessarily. Then stayed.

Seriously—why?

"Get on the bed," Natalie said.

Sofia, again, obeyed. She climbed onto the plush sheets. Her body not hesitating.

Because of the collar.

The collar. Not because the authority in Natalie's voice switched her brain off. Not because surrendering to her came with a rush of intoxicating excitement that she couldn't even begin to put into words. Not because Natalie's confident, taunting gaze left her so dizzy and weak-kneed that she felt like she was close to fainting.

No, the collar. And the bet. She was simply accepting her lot in life. It was a task that she had to see through. She was a woman of her word. And a practical woman.

Natalie picked Jordan up, handling the woman easily.

"Lie down," she told Sofia.

Sofia did.

Natalie shuffled forward, then dropped Jordan onto her. Jordan's sweaty, naked curves pressed into Sofia's uniform, and Sofia froze beneath her, the other woman's proximity finally turning off whatever last parts of her brain had been functional.

Jordan also looked surprised by the position Natalie had chosen. "Lucky you," she murmured, green eyes just as taunting as Natalie's, but friendlier, and only a few inches from Sofia. She cozied up, indulgently getting situated. "You really get the V.I.P. treatment, don't you?" She buried her face into Sofia's neck just as Natalie's hips hit her ass, and the impact bounced both of them.

Natalie was ...

Fucking Jordan. While Jordan was on top of her.

And still, she wasn't stopping them?

5.03 - ❤ Intimate Viewing II

How had this happened?

Five minutes ago, she'd been sitting on the couch, annoyed at the lewd noises coming from her teammates' room. Now, she was spread out on the bed, a sweaty, naked Jordan pressed into her, both of them bouncing as Natalie, between their legs, plowed into her with even more energy than before. And she'd already been going at it like an animal.

"Her cock feels so good," Jordan murmured into Sofia's ear, shamelessly, the words earnest and husky. The way she was rubbing against Sofia with each bounce was incredibly obscene, setting her on fire. Jordan's tits, bare, pressed into her own, her nipples poking through her uniform. The sensation was electric. She felt like she was melting, and neither of them were even doing anything to her.

Well. By the standards of what they were doing to each other, at least.

"Is our gross voyeur at a loss for words?" Jordan asked, propping herself up and forcing her face into Sofia's vision. She grabbed either side of her head, cradling her. "Cat got your tongue?"

The lewd bouncing of their bodies served as a backdrop for Jordan's teasing. Sofia couldn't focus on anything besides the smacks of flesh. Natalie, jack-hammering into Jordan, making her sweaty, naked body bounce and rock against her own.

"It's kinda mean, getting her big, fat, juicy cock all to myself," Jordan said, still cradling her face. "You should just admit you want it. I mean, how long are you going to pretend? You can't keep lying to yourself. It's not healthy." She leaned closer. Her lips hovered less than an inch from Sofia's. "You want Nat inside you. Her huge, thick, hot girl cock splitting you open. Just say it for me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sofia mumbled, the words falling apart, getting quieter, as she went. The contrast between the humiliating words, and the way Jordan's hands cradled her face, her friendly but taunting eyes, was doing something strange to her.

Dealing with Natalie alone was next to impossible. Having Jordan on the offense, while Natalie was making them both bounce? Sofia could only say one thank-you—that Natalie seemed lost in Jordan's pussy, rapidly coming unglued as her thrusting made the entire bedframe creak. Not paying attention to her and Jordan's conversation.

"You can do it," Jordan said. Her thumb gently stroked Sofia's cheek. "It'll feel good, you know. To give up. To accept your place. On your knees. Her plaything. Her cock slut. You might be better than Natalie in a sparring ring, but in this arena, you're nothing—and you know it."

"I ..."

"There's no shame. You know it's true. A girl like you is meant to be a cock sleeve. Who cares about image? Status? What people think about you? Giving in would feel so good. So just do it."

The words thrilled through her. How did Jordan know exactly what to say to turn her insides into a hot mess? Voicing the thoughts Sofia refused to acknowledge—digging into her secret desires, drawing out a pulsing lust that radiated across her. Did she really see through her that easily? Because that was all she wanted. To give in. To stop caring so much. Not that she would ever admit it out loud. Or even to herself.

This woman was far, far more dangerous than Natalie.

"No?" Jordan asked after Sofia only panted into her face, unable to muster a response. "Not there, yet?" Her closeness threatened to give Sofia a heart attack. She smelled so thickly of sex it made her head swim. "That's fine. You haven't had a taste yet. You won't last long, once you do. But, I have one more question."

"What is it?" Sofia breathed.

"Can I kiss you? While your Master finishes inside me?"

Sofia stared at her.

Then, she nodded.

Jordan's lips met her own. She pried open Sofia's mouth, her tongue slipping against her own. Sofia surrendered to the advance, melting into her.

At the same time, Jordan gave into the climax she'd been fighting. She started to shake atop Sofia, and her moans went straight into Sofia's throat, kissing her even as she shuddered and came apart, Natalie's hips slammed into her over and over, her whole body rocking into Sofia.

Natalie fell forward next, elbows propping to either side of them, sandwiching Jordan even tighter into Sofia as she also came to her peak. Natalie's hips arched forward, shoving Jordan's lower half hard onto Sofia's, groaning loudly.

Cumming inside Jordan.

While Jordan was on top of her.

Kissing her.

Natalie, spilling hot, sticky seed straight into Jordan's womb.

The thought, for some shameful reason, pushed Sofia over the edge—a shockingly sudden arrival, coming from nowhere. Panic coursed through her as the most pathetic whimper she'd ever made escaped her, muffled by Jordan's mouth.

It wasn't fair. She was cumming? How? She'd barely been touched. Only glancingly as Jordan bounced atop her. Had the situation really set her on fire that much? She'd been brought that close to the edge just by Jordan's teasing? And the kiss?

She had to hide it. Natalie couldn't see. It was too embarrassing. Coming while barely being touched.

But ecstasy coursed through her like molten metal. Her whole body quivered, and her hips, pressed down by the two girls, tried to lift, only for the weight of them to keep her down. She wiggled and ground herself into Jordan, getting what contact she could, climaxing even while Natalie kept pouring a hot load into Jordan. The pleasure crashed through her with an intensity she'd never experienced.

Her only saving grace was that Natalie and Jordan were too lost in their own orgasm to notice. Or, that was what she hoped.

Finally, the mortifying moment passed, and Sofia went limp beneath them, panting and sweating. Jordan pressed her head down in the blankets next to Sofia. All three of them panted and caught their breath, a tangled mess of sweaty limbs.

"That easily?" Jordan murmured, turning to look at Sofia from the corner of her eye. She chuckled, her words less than a whisper, only audible to Sofia. "You naughty girl. I won't tell. We're really gonna have fun with you, aren't we?"

5.04 - Mediator I

Jordan watched as Natalie's two-handed warhammer crashed into a tower shield easily as tall as herself. The oversized block of stone met reinforced metal shield with a clang reminiscent of a blacksmith's anvil. Despite having braced for the blow, the heavily armored tank—a boy with dirty blond hair, whose name Jordan didn't know—staggered back, his guard broken.

Though the vicious impact had rattled Natalie too, her follow-up was swift: a second, then third, then fourth wind-up blow hammered into the tower shield, entirely forgoing subtlety and technique. She chose instead to bash her way through with pure determination. It was very Natalie.

Her sparring partner was, unfortunately, no match for her: the fight was a foregone conclusion. That was how it went sometimes. The difference in strength between the low and high ends of talent, even within the same year, could be insurmountable. And the gap would only grow more pronounced as time passed, as they moved into their sophomore, junior, and senior years. If Jordan had to guess, this boy hadn't even reached level two yet. So against Natalie? It simply wasn't a fair fight.

"She really is a monster with that thing," she said idly, wincing as another ridiculous clang cut through the air. It pierced even the din of the dozens of other active fights throughout the training yard. "If ... a bit noisy."

"A bit?" Sofia asked dryly. She watched the display, arms crossed as piercing blue eyes scrutinized the two fighters. There was a distasteful curl to her lips, and Jordan guessed why even before Sofia voiced the sentiment. "She's being a brute. It's disrespectful. To herself and her opponent. She can do better."

The events earlier that morning, in the bedroom, had gone forgotten. Or, ignored. Sofia was her usual self, if somewhat fidgety, especially when their eyes met. Jordan admitted she had gotten carried away. To be fair, she'd been more than a little compromised, with Natalie taking her from behind and a blushing Sofia squirming underneath her. In that kind of scenario, of course her better senses had vanished.

Still, considering what she had said—and the kiss they'd shared—she knew they needed to talk about it. She'd been meaning to chat with Sofia for a while now. About a whole bunch of things. Though, Natalie at the forefront.

"Well, it's working," Jordan said. "That's all that matters, in the end."

Sofia grunted her disagreement. "Every fight should be taken seriously. Even easy ones. She's not giving it her best."

Jordan half agreed with the perspective. But she didn't think Natalie wasn't taking the fight seriously, exactly. More like, she was seeing just how much she could accomplish with pure brute strength. Testing her limits.

Though, admittedly, having an inappropriate amount of fun while doing so. She was wearing that wild grin of hers as she spun around with her towering warhammer. Jordan had always found that look equal parts endearing and worrying. Natalie could get carried away way too easily. Jordan had seen it more than once in their youth. She might be the only reason Natalie hadn't gotten herself killed in their reckless early years.

"She's definitely getting better, though," Sofia said. "Her footwork is cleaner. Giving less openings. Better integration of her illusions, too." She wrinkled her nose. "In her earlier fights, at least. This one is a regression."

Sofia had always been more willing to acknowledge Natalie's skill than the other way around. There was a definite begrudgingness to the compliment, though. Sofia handled her competitive streak with much more maturity, but it was definitely still there.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jordan watched Sofia more than she did the fight. The woman's attention bored into Natalie with an intensity that was rather telling—and would probably embarrass Sofia if she realized what she was doing.

Jordan wasn't completely certain what Sofia and Natalie's relationship was. Obviously, she could tell the two women were secretly feral for each other, but were they romantically interested? Jordan was actually somewhat undecided.

That they wanted to fuck was a given. But hate-fuck only, or something more? If Jordan could dig past the hundreds of layers of denial, did they want to date each other? Be girlfriends? While those two girls going on a romantic date conjured hilarious imagery, Jordan thought they might actually want to, if they could work past their ridiculous hang-ups.

At a minimum, they needed to get it out of their system. Which was slowly happening, thanks to their silly bet. And the collar. And developments earlier that morning.

Their denial, added to their extreme competitiveness, made things tricky. She thought of Natalie's unceremonious collaring of Sofia. Natalie hadn't given the girl much chance to protest—she had clipped the collar and leash on without remotely giving the event the discussion it deserved. Not that a discussion between Sofia and Natalie would ever be productive, considering the two idiots, but Jordan was mildly concerned about the direction their relationship was heading. Both the speed and the lack of communication. It seemed like a train wreck waiting to happen.

Jordan was guilty of adding fuel to that fire, too, with everything she'd said that morning.

Sofia glanced over, catching her staring. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, stop biting your lip and just ask," Sofia said. "You clearly have something to say."

It was as good a segue as any. It was Jordan's duty, as Natalie's friend—and Sofia's friend—to smooth things over in whatever way she could.

Plus, Sofia wasn't as likely to be obstinate when trying to have an honest discussion as Natalie would. Though 'as obstinate as Natalie' was a low bar to clear. It still wouldn't be easy.

A part of Jordan wondered whether she was even qualified to be a mediator in their relationship. Considering her own mess of tangled emotions when it came to Natalie, she didn't have too much of a leg to stand on.

But someone had to. And it sure as hell wouldn't be either of them.

"So," Jordan started casually. "How are things going with you and Nat?"

Sofia stiffened, though imperceptibly, as if she'd been ready for the question and had tried to stop herself from reacting—but couldn't, not entirely. She turned back forward. "That's what you're stewing over?"

"Just asking as a friend. I know Nat can be a handful. Maybe we can talk about it? Honestly, we're in kind of the same situation."

"Us?" Sofia asked. "You think we're in the same situation? Natalie actually likes you, if you haven't noticed."

The response caught Jordan off guard. Both what she'd said, and how she'd said it. The almost resignation hidden behind the sarcasm. Sofia didn't believe that, did she? That Natalie didn't like her?

Well. It was admittedly a bit of a mess. But while Natalie might swear up and down that Sofia was the devil, Jordan was confident she didn't actually dislike her.

Or—it was a hot-and-cold thing.

Clearly, Jordan did need to have this talk. Except, she wasn't exactly sure how to handle it. How did she go about reassuring her?

"Sofia," Jordan said slowly, picking her words carefully. "There's not a person on the planet who gets Natalie going like you do." Yes, she phrased it that way on purpose. "Don't be stupid. Of course Natalie likes you. I don't care what she says. You know her. She's an idiot." She raised a finger to interrupt Sofia's response. "At a very minimum, you're special to her. In a way no one else is."