Tracer raised a hand as her mind cleared itself of the fog of sleep, surprised to find that she wasn’t restrained in any way. She held the hand over her eyes, trying to rub the sleep from them as she crossed her legs underneath her, a thick duvet resting on her lap, warm from her own body. “What’re… Ah… My head…” Tracer whimpered, raising both her hands to her head as she japan squeezed her eyes shut, the pain passing quicker now. “Do not worry, that’ll pass. I know.” Tracer felt the mattress beneath her dip slightly to one side and she forced herself to open her eyes, seeing her more clearly now, Widowmaker, her foe and enemy sitting beside her, delicate eyebrows raised, a cup in one hand held out towards Tracer, the liquid inside dark and steaming. “Widowmaker… You’re… Wearing a T-shirt?” Tracer asked, incredulous, not taking the cup, as if out of everything in this situation Widowmakers attire was the most baffling aspect to her, a T-shirt and what looked to be sweatpants. Widowmaker scoffed and set the cup down on the nightstand beside the bed at Tracers arm, “What? You thought I wore that skin-tight suit everywhere I go? And my name is Amélie, you might as well use it.” “Why?...” “Because that is who I am when I’m not in the suit, Lena,” Amélie said flatly, rising once again to her feet and stepping away towards the window, glancing out and around, the light reflecting on her amber eyes. “No, I mean, why am I alive? Why aren’t you trying to kill me? Why are you…” Lena glanced down at the cup, her voice regaining a little more of its girlish vibe, “Making tea?” Amélie let out a soft little sigh and leaned on the windowsill, silent for a moment as Lena observed the woman's slender profile. Their fights were always so incredibly fast paced with her chronal accelerator and Widowmakers ballet trained pace that she seldom got to view her without either of them moving at some speed. After a moment of staring at the svelte figure and before Amélie replied, Lena looked away, an almost imperceptible hue colouring her cheeks. “Because, Lena, japanese I was getting sick, sick of our little game.” “What game?” Amélie shot Lena a glance and raised an eyebrow again, her ponytail still intact as it wound down her back, “The endless game of cat and mouse that you and I play but neither of us ever seem to win.” “Not for a lack of trying, love,” Lena said, matter of factly. Amélie smirked slightly, “Mm, I do like it when you call me that…” Lena felt the blush touch her cheeks a little warmer and she raised a hand, running it through her short dark hair, messing it back up into its rightful place, “Are you going to let me leave?” Amélie pursed her lips, “Mm, technically.” “What do you mean, ‘technically’?” Lena replied pouting her lips in growing frustration at ‘Amélie’s’ continued evasions. “I don’t want all of your little friends swooping in to rescue you and wrecking my home.” Amélie glanced her eyes around the sparsely decorated room. She didn’t have much in the way of possessions, but the likes of Winston rampaging through here would do her walls, floors and ceilings little good. Uncrossing her legs Lena swung them out of the bed, glancing down as she felt a plush carpet between her toes, seeing her bare smooth legs for the first time and noticing the t-shirt she herself was wearing, “Hey! You undressed me!” “Mmhm,” Amélie mused dismissively then sat down on the bed, casting her eyes over at Lena as petite she peered back at her over one shoulder, “Lay down Lena, and I will explain.” Lena eyed her stubbornly. “Lay down, pétale.” Lena felt a single shiver run up her spine and after a moment she scooched downwards, laying back down on the bed, albeit on top of the covers this time, one leg crossed over the other Schoolgirls defensively. “W-what, what was that! How did you make me do that!” Lena protested, her body fighting her as she tried to sit up again, but it was as if her muscles were no longer under her control. “Shh pétale, let me explain,” Amélie said with a soft smugness, her hand, unnaturally cool to the touch, coming to rest on Lena’s slender pale thigh. The girls' cheeks flushed red as she parted her lips to reply, but presented Amélie with silence. “Good, in short, I used some of the… Methods… That were employed on me when Amélie first became the Widowmaker. "Something smells incredible. But just as it did, one guy declared, more loudly than he should have, “Hey! I pumped away a few times, driving Mrs. Albertson wild, then ripped my girl-dick out of her snatch. I came closer and closer to erupting. I felt relieved and she went to her drawers and reach in the back and pulled out a little sheer g-string. Martin japanese tugged at his tie, letting it hang loosely from his neck as he ran his fingers through his hair, yawning off the days work, headed to the coffee machine to Schoolgirls get himself a mug of the good stuff before Adrianne got home from school. I slowly opened the door to the dressing room. I ended up helping by lifting her leg up. She wanted to know why I was mad at her. Katie holds the side of the table as Rick pushes his entire cock into her; his stomach pressing up against her petite ass. I never thought I was attractive or appealing, so I just wasn’t, Stephanie japan realized. I realized that I never wanted that moment to be over. “I was wondering why they were so quick to follow your orders,” she remarked. Megan leaned closer and whispered, “That is what is it is, and the winner gets to select what happens to her afterward.” A minute later she had pulled my arms and wrists up to padlock them to the chain. I realized it was my phone. His hard cock pressed against her accepting hole.