Chapter 8: Stripped Justice
Sweat dripped from Sakura’s chin as she strained against the leg press machine, the rhythmic clank of weights echoing through the humid gym air. Willow’s sharp Scottish brogue sliced through the noise, "Oi, Sakura! We need tae huv a wee chat aboot ma property!" Sakura’s dark eyes widened in pure panic; she scrambled off the machine, snatching her worn black gym bag like a lifeline. Without a word, she spun on her heel, her jellyfish-cut hair whipping around her face as she bolted towards the heavy double doors leading to the locker room corridor. Willow snarled, "Ye think yer gettin' away, ye thievin' wee shite?" and launched herself forward, the scent of old rubber mats and desperation sharp in her nostrils.
Her fingers hooked into the waistband of Sakura’s little black bike shorts just as the younger wrestler reached the doors, yanking her backward with a startled yelp. Sakura stumbled, the gym bag flying from her grasp as she landed hard on her backside on the cool, unforgiving mats, the air whooshing out of her. "Tha's better," Willow growled, towering over the terrified young lion, her own blue tartan gear damp with sweat. "Now, where's ma good blue lace ye pilfered after trainin'?" She snatched the fallen bag, tearing open the zipper to reveal the crumpled, unmistakable sapphire lingerie nestled amongst Sakura's gear. Sakura flushed crimson, her wide eyes fixed on the floor, unable to form even broken English in her utter humiliation.
Sakura flushed crimson, her wide eyes fixed on the floor, unable to form even broken English in her utter humiliation. Then, with a desperate gasp, Sakura snatched the crumpled blue lace from Willow’s hand, scrambling backwards on her elbows like a cornered animal. "No! Mine!" she shrieked, her voice cracking as she twisted onto her knees, clutching the lingerie tight against her chest. Willow lunged, fingers snagging the thin black fabric of Sakura’s cheap T-shirt just as the younger wrestler tried to surge upright. A sharp, brittle rrrrrip echoed off the gym walls as the flimsy material tore clean away from Sakura’s body, leaving her bare-skinned and trembling on the mats. "Yer done hidin', wee shite," Willow snarled, holding the ragged scrap of shirt like a trophy.
Sakura gasped, scrambling backwards on the mats, her bare skin slick with panic-sweat against the cool rubber. Willow lunged, fingers hooking deep into the thin black cotton of Sakura’s bike shorts. With one brutal, upward yank, Willow tore the shorts clean off Sakura’s hips, leaving her sprawled in nothing but her plaid bra and matching thong.
Sakura whimpered, scrambling backwards on raw knees across the unforgiving mat, the blue lace bundle clutched desperately against her plaid bra. Willow lunged, snagging Sakura’s ankle with a grip like iron, flipping her onto her stomach with a heavy thud. A sharp, stinging crack echoed as Willow’s palm landed hard on Sakura’s exposed thigh, drawing a startled yelp. "Enough, wee shite!" Willow growled, the sting radiating through Sakura’s skin. Defeated, Sakura shoved the crumpled blue lace towards Willow, her breath hitching in surrender.
Willow snatched the crumpled lace from Sakura’s trembling hand, the soft fabric damp with sweat against her palm. She turned sharply, her blue tartan boots thudding decisively on the worn rubber mat as she strode towards the exit. The heavy gym doors seemed impossibly far across the echoing space filled with the clank of distant weights. Halfway there, her stride faltered; she stopped dead. Turning slowly, Willow fixed Sakura, still half-naked and trembling on the mat, "ye know I love plaid." Her gaze raked over Sakura’s exposed bra and thong, a slow, predatory grin spreading across her face. "Actually, that wee set o' yours looks far better suited tae me than that cheap blue lace ever did." Sakura stiffened, pure horror dawning in her wide eyes as Willow stalked forward again.
Sakura scrambled backwards, bare heels squeaking against the sweat-slicked rubber mats as Willow closed in, that predatory grin unwavering. "N-No, Willow! Mine! New!" Sakura stammered, her broken English thick with panic as she desperately tried to cover herself. Willow lunged, surprisingly fast for her size, her calloused wrestler's hand darting past Sakura’s feeble guard and deftly unhooking the clasp of the designer plaid bra in one sharp flick. "Pretty," Willow murmured, her Scottish brogue low and dangerous, snatching the bra away to reveal pale skin, leaving Sakura gasping and exposed as she immediately wrenched the matching plaid thong down Sakura’s trembling thighs. "Much better than cheap lace, aye?" Willow held up the stolen lingerie triumphantly, leaving Sakura curled on the mat, utterly defeated and stripped to her skin.
Sakura curled tighter on the mat, trembling arms barely covering her exposed skin as Willow loomed above, the plaid lingerie dangling carelessly from one finger. A choked sob escaped Sakura's throat as she scrambled backwards on raw elbows and knees, the rubber mat scraping her bare skin, inching desperately towards her discarded gym bag near the leg press. Gasping, she tore the zipper open, fingers fumbling blindly inside past damp towels until they closed on thin, black fabric. She dragged out a simple black lace bra and matching briefs, her entire body shaking violently as she pulled them on under the cover of her hunched form, tears streaking down her cheeks. Willow watched, arms crossed, a cold satisfaction in her eyes as Sakura finally slumped against the machine’s frame, muffling her sobs in her hands, the pale skin of her back gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. "Pretty," Willow murmured, examining the stolen plaid set. "Mine now."