Your hands shake as you weald the weapon. It’s sharp, but you’re not afraid of hurting someone, no you’re afraid of being hurt by one of the other weapons pointed at you. It’s simple, Ambessa wanted you, someone who wasn’t really for her protection but more -Ambessa’s reasons are a grey area, and your sights are purple with panic for now and all eternity you suppose for the life you’ve been dealt, face down- entertainment you’ll supply for now, to entertain the idea of you against this Kiramman person.
She gives a grimace almost as she sets her sights on you, looking at Ambessa with a quizzical pause. They don’t speak, something you don’t know you’re grateful or not for, instead a nod is all she gets and a shriek is returned. Not from her, of course, but you as you drop your weapon before she even gets close to you. As a lamb in lambskin -or maybe cotton or silk, you’re not really sure what you’re wrapped in right now, definitely something that you could never afford without Ambessa- you fumble for your future in this world, your pulse pounding against your place in this world. You’re not even sure how you made it this far, but a tap to your being reminds you of how cowardice is chronically lifesaving.
You split your eyes to see the edge of the weapon poking you, not dull but not exactly dedicated to your demise as it barely grazes deep in your stomach. Caitlyn pulls it back quickly, and Ambessa’s voice rocks through the room. “Try without weapons this time.” Caitlyn does without question, maybe it’s because she’s Ambessa, or because she’s with knowledge you don’t have of this fighting dance, you don’t really know, but since it’s basically engraved in your blood, you refuse not to follow first.
You kick the weapon aside lightly, moving into a stance that you’ve seen many times before, a slightly mimic of Caitlyn. She must’ve been taught well. You still shake, a tremor to your being as you wait for a sniffle from Caitlyn, a moment of movement that traps you in a trance. But you’re left bare in the open because you’re not a fighter, you’re just you.
It’s quick when you’re taken down, that’s all you’re glad for, when the floor takes your being and your back burgeons with a bruise you don’t know how you’ll address. You audibly moan at the action, a hiss mixing between your teeth as you open your eyes, just a tad bit glassy Kiramman’s hair is in a bun, only a few strands with sweat framing her face as she looks over you, hands on either side of your face. If it weren’t for her actions, you’d think her beauty made you fall.
You say nothing but breathe a few needed breathes as you wait for Ambessa unwittingly. “Your skills have improved, Young Kiramman.” You hear her feet, looking towards her shoes as she makes her way towards you. Maybe not you intentionally, especially given her speech, but she makes her way towards your taken down form. Caitlyn adjusts, moving to just sit on your hips, her own hands bunched on her clothed thighs, and your hands still beside your head, right next to where hers were. It’s as if you’re not a real lamb, but a wind-up one, without Ambessa’s words, touch, presence, you are nothing.
You might be okay with that, given how long you’ve been ‘hers’. “But you are still distracted, that other woman proves it.” Caitlyn looks to her, follows her with her sights until it’s obvious she’s swarming you both like a hawk. It’s more like surrounding though, maybe swarming you like a hive of bees to a bear’s claw, or the wolf who’ll never bare sheep’s skin, unless for fashion, but she’s with too much of a presence, too much overt strength and power and influence- Ambessa had you before you were even you, so she could never truly be a you.
Regardless, you’re almost suffocated, will be suffocated as you sit in this room. Not sit, but lie in your demise, your weakness that’s never not culpable to your downfall. Literally, this fall. “If you’re talking about-” Ambessa finishes speaking as she nears your head, interrupting, “There are certain distractions though, that are permittable. That are reasonable and not refutable when Piltover still needs to pilfer what it lost.” She gestures with a weigh of her head for you to sit up, and you do her form sitting right behind you.
Maybe you could be a decoration, something skinned and worn, at least it makes that purported possibility plausible as she cages you in with barely a touch to you. For now, at least, her legs on either side of you one arm seemingly propping her up a bit to her side, and the other in wait for something, just a bit closer. You feel incomparably small when squishes between these two. Or maybe suffocated is the word, smothered without a mother but two woman who will always be more than you. “A… defendable distraction.” Ambessa hums, the echo of her voice a deep core=hitting sound. You can’t move, but you still try, something that pulls Caitlyn’s, and most likely Ambessa’s attention to you.
You try to pull your gaze away, but something catches you like you’ve done a dirty deed, taking your throat and tilting your chin up with a thumb, bringing you to an awkward gaze with Ambessa. She offers a smirk, and your eyes dart to her lips, something that’s overt as she shakes her head. “Getting to the point, now, are we?” You don’t know who leans in first, but you know you’re ensconced in heat, from your ears to your shoulders, to the grip tugging your pants off. It’s a slight discomfort more than a sting as you’re freed to the freeze of the milieu. Ambessa’s lips are oddly soft, though a slight hint of battle to them, a history of battle as she takes your lips with her own, her hand still resting on your throat, almost stappling you to her -something you’re more than fine with- even if it’s unnecessary. You don’t know if it’s from years of manipulation or your true desire, you just know you’re trying to take her lips like a battle of their own.
This you could win, would win if it were fair. Nothing is ever fair to you. Your legs are pushed open, your core bare and your throat tugged away with a whine, some pressure added in pleasure of the sound. Ambessa’s tongue finds a way into your throat, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as she delves into you like a dessert, like honey drips from the hive of your lips as you let her overtake you, the light hint of honey on her own tongue, making you swallow.
Maybe life isn’t all that unfair, justice jutting from Caitlyn’s lips as she spits onto your clit. It’s not so much of a spit though, more like a dollop, like what you’re doing here is making a dessert. It doesn’t feel this good though, never as good as what’s happening to you here.
You don’t pull away so much as you lose focus, needing a feather of flurry or a moment to not drown in dissociation as her hand moves against you slowly, just in time with Caitlyn’s ministrations. You stay against her being, too busy with the pleasure they inflict upon you rather than the fact of what this is, of what you’re becoming.
Caitlyn’s fingers find your slick, brushing over your glistening folds and spreading them as if it were a feast. She admires you, from what you can see with your lidded lids. You’re not able to do the same as Ambessa’s hands find your barely clothed top, more bounded by strips of fabric than anything. She’s able to tug at your top, your flesh hidden underneath and nip at your nipple with her fingers, pinching the softness with one hand, letting herself be a place for you to rest, to dig into as you moan against her, almost grind as Caitlyn follows her. They must share looks or something as you feel her fingers become distant, two digits barely fanning over you as you hear a scraping of some kind.
You’re barely lucid enough to see the blade appear again, barely able to experience panic before it’s taken off, something you didn’t know was capable of Ambessa’s blades. or at least that one it seems. “Be a good distraction,” Ambessa whispers, her words almost as reverberating as purr as she twists your other nipple, moving to smooth it over with a pat of the same finger.
You’re not used to how quickly this is going, you’re not used to any of this, the attention from one powerful woman let alone two. The notion is quickly forgotten with your whimper as Caitlyn’s fingers find you again, mushing around the forgotten spit for your accretive slickness. You lean back into Ambessa, your eyes fluttering as you forget what’s occurring- or not forget maybe indulge is more the word for what you’re doing. Your hips lift a little as Caitlyn spanks your pussy lightly, more like pats to test how wet you are, how much follower her hand as she moves it down, and down again like a slip ‘n slide as she forces two fingers into you.
You haven’t been touched in a while- if at all if you compare what women have done to you to what they’re doing- so it’s a burgeoning burn that lingers as she carves into you and pulls out. You receive a kiss on your cheek though, warm and welcoming as you move with the touch. Ambessa finds your neck again, moving up to grasp your chin. Luckily, you’re still heavily submerged in the darkness of your eyes, the wholeness to masked ministrations as you make out with Ambessa, slow and sipping more into sensual than sexual.
You’re not distracted enough, but maybe a bit more prepared as you feel something slim and slick tickle your hole. It’s a bit nice than the grasp of your slick from Caitlyn’s fingers. Still, there’s a tease of a stretch as your toes curl, one thigh pushed further up as Caitlyn moves closer, watching and breathing against your folds. It’s something you pull away to see, witness happening to you as the handle of the debladed-sword meets your entrances. It’s slim and long enough that it feels nice but not overpowering. No, overpowering comes from the woman herself who licks at you. First, it’s a kitten lick, like a lick for milk, but with a smirk akin to the woman who taught her to fight with bared teeth once unknown it quickly escalates.
It’s a disgrace to the impartiality of spit, how she dives and suckles on your clit but is quick enough to switch up, to goad out more of your pleasured pain with huffs against your clit, piercing blows as your held now by one hand across your middle, descending from your ribcage and chest area.
It’s teasing and tantalizing until you hear her voice burgeon against the shell of your ear, “Beg.” It’s one word but it tumbles against your lips, what she wants, what’s expected as you whimper with the words, pleading and begging with both of their names like it’s your job. Is this your job? If it is… well, for now you’re more than okay with it, up until the haze of desire passes. “Go ahead, little one.” You don’t know who’s she’s talking to, because Ambessa is usually one with the slightly jabbing jests of her nicknames. Regardless, Caitlyn’s lips find your clit, pulsing and wet and warm- hot, it’s hot as you cum with the dip of the handle into your core, how you clamp at the slight tug and pull of it inside of you, how her wrist works slowly and thoroughly, making sure to use it to your pleasure as you scream like a siren- Something Ambessa doesn’t let ring for long as she clamps a hand over your mouth. You, in turn, have your hand on her wrist, not so much of a threat as it is a purchase for your grip, your prints pressing into her wrist as you almost sob form sinful sensations, your eyes shutting as you squirt a little from the omnipresent sense of Caitlyn.
What’s that saying, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. Yeah, you remember faintly being told it before your friends were killed. Yeah, satisfaction does nothing for murders, the blood is still under their fingernails. You’re still a distraction at the end of the day, no matter how satisfied you are here, between them both.