4.06 – Strip Spars II
Rosalie managed to win round three as well, but it was by an even closer margin than the first two. Hair-thin. Then, left with the unfortunate choice of having Delta strip her bra or panties off, she picked the less distracting of the two: her bra.
Round four went to Delta.
Not because Rosalie was distracted. Rather, Rosalie would have to concede that Delta must be a better fighter than first appraised. Which was a hard admittance to make. But the alternative was to acknowledge she was becoming distracted. And she wasn’t.
Maybe even it was luck. Rosalie couldn’t always win. It wasn’t that her eyes were sticking to inappropriate places, making her miss obvious tells to what Delta’s next move would be.
As her first bounty for a win, Delta chose Rosalie’s top. Exposing herself, even in a small way, to her aggravatingly confident teammate had almost as much of an effect as Delta’s own stripping. Rosalie’s performance for round five was even worse than round four, and Delta won again. So, Rosalie’s pants ca off, leaving Rosalie in panties and bra, and Delta in just panties.
The worst part was the amusent in Delta’s sparkling purple eyes. The constant smirk, the quips and taunting remarks. Most of them focused on Rosalie’s blushing, not that she was blushing. Delta just interpreted it like that. The reality was that she had worked up a sweat. This was a spar. Of course her face and chest were flushed. Never mind that Rosalie’s stamina was far greater than to be getting flushed in a few quick exchanges. This was … an exception. Sohow.
Her irritation at Delta’s teasing actually provided enough fire for Rosalie to focus for another round. She won match six, and Delta’s panties ca off, leaving her naked.
The brief rallying effect dissipated.
For two reasons: one, that Delta was naked, and sure, it wasn’t the first ti she’d seen that, considering their adventures in the second shard, but this situation was different. They didn’t need to be naked. The shard hadn’t forced it.
Secondly, Rosalie lost her weapon. The final rounds, as laid out by Delta’s rules, required the winner to pin down their naked opponent. It had sounded like a distinctly made up addition, but Rosalie couldn’t call her on it. Obviously, she’d never done sothing like this before. An expert on the rules of ‘strip spars’.
So, round seven. Where Rosalie needed to grapple a naked Delta, who still had her daggers. It was too challenging of a task. She lost two additional rounds, being stripped of her own bras and panties. The defeats were only the result of the weapon disadvantage. Grappling an ard opponent without taking hits was too difficult, even for her. It wasn’t that getting her hands on a sweaty, naked Delta caused problems for her focus. Not in the slightest.
Which mortifyingly led them to this mont.
“Rember, princess,” Delta said, tail swishing behind her. Rosalie tried hard to maintain eye contact. Though that wasn’t even what she was supposed to do; she should be watching her hips. They telegraphed movent most obviously. But … it might actually be worse for Rosalie to look there. Too much to see. “Your girlfriend doesn’t want us to do anything without her,” Delta said, almost startling Rosalie, who’d, again, zoned out. “So keep control of yourself.”
“Keep control of myself?”
“Nothing too fun,” Delta confird, as if it had been a real question, and not a growled protest. “But it’s winner gets, so play hard.”
Nothing too fun. As if she was implying this final wrestling match could get out of hand. Maybe—maybe—Rosalie could admit Delta had a body that was mildly—mildly—distracting, but that didn’t an Rosalie was remotely interested in Delta. That she’d get ‘carried away’ during this wrestling.
Really, the only possible way Rosalie would consider sothing like what Delta implied—intimacy—was if Zoey asked. Because she herself wasn’t interested. Not remotely. Not even slightly. She couldn’t imagine sothing less appealing than sleeping with this monuntally irritating woman.
But if Zoey asked, maybe Rosalie could be convinced.
Because then Rosalie could make it clear she was just entertaining Zoey’s wishes. Keeping her perverted girlfriend satisfied.
She wouldn’t have to admit anything.
“No reply?” Delta asked.
Rosalie started, again.
“Lost in thought?” Delta teased. “Distracted by sothing?” She raised her hands in the air and stretched, thrusting her chest out. Rosalie glanced away, instinctively, and Delta tutted. “I’m just stretching, princess. You don’t need to look away.” A grin. “Plus, I could’ve taken advantage of that, like you ntioned earlier. You’re lucky I’m not trying my hardest.”
Infuriated, Rosalie looked back forward. She was right. That could have been an easy advantage. Why had she looked away? Delta’s body wasn’t flustering her. “Can we begin, already?”
She raised her eyebrows. “If you want your hands over that badly, I guess we can get going.”
Instead of entertaining the banter for a second longer, she stepped forward. “I’m starting.”
Delta settled into a fighting stance. “Hand to hand isn’t my strength, but not yours either, I’m taking it.”
“I’ve trained in all styles.” It might not be her forte, but she was more than capable.
“Of course you have,” Delta said. “Still. I’m bringing this one ho. Ready?”
Rosalie began the fight, surging forward. The distance closed in an instant. Delta twisted out of the way, dodging her first attempt at a grapple. Despite Rosalie being the shorter, more agile-looking of the two, Delta was actually quicker than her, and by a noticeable amount. Her runes. As a bow-and-knife wielding damage-focused wayfarer, Rosalie would be hard pressed to find an opponent as slippery as her. Rosalie’s own specialties were with offense mixed with defense.
She steadied herself, but Delta’s dodge had put her in a great position to follow up. Her hands wrapped around Rosalie’s stomach, and—apparently more than happy to take this to the floor—yanked her up, then heaved and purposely fell, dropping the two of them. Rosalie hit hard enough to be stunned. Delta’s teasing, apparently, had extended only to the pre-match. She wanted to win, and was fighting like it.
She wanted a ‘favor’ from Rosalie.
The two of them struggled against each other, Rosalie wiggling out of her grip and trying to secure her own hold. Naked, sweaty skin rubbed against naked, sweaty skin. Only the adrenaline of the fight kept Rosalie half-way focused.
An intense, heated exchange took place. Wrestling was very much not Rosalie’s strength, but, as Delta had said, not hers, either. By the standards of the previous matches, it was sloppy.
Still, Rosalie eventually found an opening. Her muscles strained as she secured a grip on her opponent, maneuvering into a pin. She’d wrapped Delta with her legs, and locked her arms with her own. Despite the poor beginning, she’d co out on top.
Delta thrashed, putting up a good fight to break free, but Rosalie held firm. If she kept her pinned down, then this match was over. Rosalie had won.
She’d won.
But … did she want that? Given the brief half-reprieve of simply having to lock her muscles tight and hold Delta in place, she was given a mont to think. If Rosalie held still, she’d win.
Which would an she would get the ‘favor’.
Which ant Delta wouldn’t.
Rosalie couldn’t ask for anything inappropriate. Her pride wouldn’t allow her. Delta was the shaless one, not her. So if Rosalie wanted anything to co of this event, then Delta had to win.
Not that she wanted sothing to co of this event.
But …
Rosalie’s grip slipped.
Given even a small opening, Delta pried into it with vicious efficiency. In a flurry, she beca the one pinned into the ground, locked into a pin by the naked girl she was wrestling with.
Rosalie gave it her best effort to co back, but once an effective grip had been established, it was almost impossible to break free.
That Rosalie’s had? Well … that was a fluke.
It hadn’t been intentional.
Eventually, Rosalie was forced to admit defeat. She did give it her best effort breaking free, her pride demanding it of her, but Delta gave no such openings like Rosalie had. She finally went still, realizing the futility of continuing.
“I’m pinned,” Rosalie said flatly. “You win. Get off .”
She tried desperately to ignore the reality of the situation. Delta’s breasts pressed into her, their heated, sweat-slicked skin touching in more places than it wasn’t. There was pressure—legs and arms and hands—in places distinctly difficult to ignore.
“You let win,” Delta panted, loosening her grip slightly, but not releasing Rosalie. “Why?”
“I didn’t.”
Delta tightened the pin, and Rosalie grunted. “At least admit it.”
Rosalie refused to.
“You’re so annoying,” Delta growled.
“Says you?”
“You know what I think?” She leaned forward, breathing hot air into Rosalie’s ear. “You want make good use of the favor. So you gave it to .” Finally, Delta let go and rolled off. “And, fine. You better believe I will.”
Rosalie likewise rolled to the side, muscles aching, and stood. She stalked toward her clothing, pointedly facing away from Delta. Not because she was blushing, and not because all of that sweaty contact had put Rosalie in a very compromised mindset.
Panties and bra slipped on, at least, Rosalie turned and faced Delta. The fox girl had rolled onto her side and propped her head up, not returning to her clothes as Rosalie had. She stayed happily naked, facing toward Rosalie. As shaless as always. Rosalie refused to be cowed; she didn’t look away.
“So. What is it?” Rosalie asked.
“What is what?”
She crossed her arms. “The favor.”
“Dunno yet. I’ll probably get Zoey’s opinion. Help cook sothing up. She knows what you like, I’m guessing.”
Rosalie stared disdainfully down at her teammate. “Of course you would, pervert.”
“I’m the pervert?” she asked. “You’re the one who let win so I could ask sothing freaky of you.”
For a second, Rosalie almost denied the accusation. But she hesitated, then, instead, huffed and turned back to the rest of her clothing.
“And you won’t even deny it,” Delta said. “Because your prudishness and ego are fighting. You don’t want to admit wanting , but you also won’t admit you lost. You have to make it clear you threw the fight.” She laughed, and Rosalie’s face burned furiously as she continued to dress, ignoring her opponent’s words. “I really can’t decide if you’re cute or obnoxious, blondie.”
“It’s no such struggle for .”
“You think I’m cute?”
“Obnoxious,” Rosalie emphasized, shooting a glare over her shoulder, which turned out to be a mistake, because it gave her a generous view of Delta’s naked body as she stretched on the sparring mat.
“You sure about that?”
“Exceedingly.”
“Not the slightest bit cute?”
Rosalie ignored her.
“That’s fine,” Delta said. “I think and Zoey can change your attitude, once things get going.” She sighed inconsolably. “It’s a sha we have to wait, though. Wanna go track her down and get started early?”
In the addled state Rosalie was in, she actually paused. And, of course, Delta noticed.
“That’s a yes,” she grinned.
“No.” Then, more firmly, “No. We already have plans tonight. Dayti hours are for practice, at a very minimum.” It should’ve been all day and night spent productively, but Zoey was having a bad influence on her. Rosalie was losing her willpower to keep to her routine. At least she could fall back onto the convoluted excuse that she was helping Zoey with her class. Powerful as it was, there was even rit to the reasoning.
“You sure? I’m all worked up, now.”
The statent had Rosalie’s heart skipping a beat. She ignored it. “Get dressed. Your … contest …” the word dripped with disgust, “has been decided. Let’s get a few real spars in. And you said you knew the competition.”
Delta pouted. “But if we go spar other people, I can’t stay naked. I like catching you staring.”
Rosalie, for the tenth ti, just gave her a disgusted look.
Truly an insufferable woman.
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