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“Are you okay, Val?”
Val’s okay. Val’s wet, porn-wet, the kind where she’s dripping through her underwear. She grins, wide, trying for well-adjusted. Well, trying to seem nonthreatening and less freakish. “I’m good, Nat. You wanna try again?”
Nattie blinks, lips parting. She clears her throat. “Are you sure?”
Val latches onto it immediately, leech to blood. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure. C’mon, you know I can take it.”
Deep breath. Wind-up. Nattie hits her blindingly hard. Val moans, choked-sounding. One side of her face is pink as a promise. “Do it again,” she urges.
“You’re gonna bruise…”
“So? It’s like, sparring. I’m not scared of a fuckin’ bruise.”
“You’re just standing there. I feel bad.” Nattie’s worried cow eyes dart to Val’s briefly. A little quieter: “Like I’m using you as a punching bag.”
Val briefly has a vision of herself hanging from the ceiling, suspended by the wrists, stomach and ribs covered in dark bruises. She laughs, a little hysteric, a lot turned on. “Nah. It’s not like that at all. Look. Hit my stomach this time.”
“I don’t -”
“What, you think I can’t take it?”
Nattie’s fist connects just beneath her ribs, knocking the wind out of her. And it’s not only Val who’s getting excited now. Nattie is blushing, pupils huge, hands flexing like she’s imagining the next strike or relishing the memory of the last one.
Val smiles. She just brings out that side of people. “Again, Nattie.”
Knuckles sink right into the soft part of her gut. Val folds over with a groan, falling to her knees at Nattie’s feet. Pain radiating through her core, she peers up at her friend through her lashes. She knows she’s pretty like this, pretty as a dying saint.
A deep shade of red tints Nattie’s round cheeks as Val wobbles back to her feet. It hurts to breathe. “Nattie.”
Nattie startles, staring with big uncertain eyes. “Wh-what?”
Val practically purrs. Made confident and shameless, nearly brazen, with an oily scorpion smirk. “One more, just one more.”
“I’m not enjoying this,” Nattie blurts. Desire made more obvious in its denial.
“I know, Nat, I know.” She’s breathing hard. Cunt throbbing. She doesn’t feel bad about this, not with euphoric endorphins screaming through her veins. “I just wanna see how it feels. Last time, I promise, do it for me?”
Nattie makes a strangled noise. Fist swinging like she can’t help herself, colliding beautifully against the corner of Val’s mouth, digging the tender fleshy inside of her mouth into the uneven edge of her teeth. Blood sweetly bursts onto her tongue, nerves burning white-hot. She staggers back, pain-sweat dripping down her spine.
“…Val?”
“Uhn?” Val blinks past the dancing stars.
“Did you -” Nattie glances down, then quickly away. “Did you pee?”
Val looks down. Her pussy’s oozed into her basketball shorts and through the blue mesh, staining her crotch dark. “Yeah,” she lies. “Probably when you hit my stomach.”
Kicked-puppy guilt. “Sorry.”
Val switches into damage control mode. “‘s fine, Nattie, I was asking for it.”
Nattie flinches. “You should clean up.”
“Really, Nat, I swear, I wanted -”
“Val!” Nattie buries her face in her hands, shamefully. “Just… please go change your shorts. I. I’m done training for the day.”
“…Sure.” Val folds her arms defensively across her aching abdomen. Swallows down the blood and bitterness. Still burning hot under the skin. Smug with the knowledge Nattie liked it; Val could see it in her eyes.