Casual card games, with a punishment for losing.

Elisalotte couldn't believe it, at first. She triple-checked all the cards laid out before her on the table, running numbers through her head over and over, as if she didn't believe what was printed on them. The scenario she found herself in felt exactly like being handed a jackpot-winning lottery ticket, and she scoured the board for some detail she'd missed, some number that was one off from what it should have been.

She found nothing. In truth, she'd pulled off a statistical feat far more unlikely than merely winning a few million dollars.

She'd won the game.

Across the field of cards occupying the table, Miho sighed deeply after coming to the same statistically improbable conclusion. She didn't hesitate to begin scooping up her cards, wordlessly admitting defeat with a sour expression on her face. Then again, that was Miho's default expression, so she probably wasn't that frustrated by the unexpected loss.

If anything, it was the punishment for losing that bothered her. Well, even that wasn't entirely accurate- after all, this wasn't her first high-stakes card game, nor her first loss. No, it was the cavalier attitude the other girls held towards the same fate, not caring one bit what was about to happen.

Derya, on the other end of the table, had been far more worked up about losing the game itself, drowning her disappointment in her underperforming deck with another glass of dark iced tea and an energetic perusal of strategy articles and decklists to see if there was anything she was missing out on. The raven-haired fluffball had only wound up jotting down three entirely new deck ideas while absentmindedly drinking her way through not only her first tea, but a refill, without even noticing.

Aurelie beside her was hardly better, as she didn't care about losing at all. As soon as her life dwindled to zero, she'd idly begun shuffling her deck before returning it to its neon-colored box. She returned the garishly rainbow-hue object to her equally colorful bag, replacing it with yet another- her phone. The airheaded blonde checked endless social media accounts at a glacial pace while sipping at a brightly-colored tropical number, one that had come off the very same menu section that the three of them would soon have to order from anyway. When that was drained, she too had ordered another.

Both of them were insane, clearly. Derya was the smallest of the quartet in general, meeting Inryoan standards of width and coming up just shy in terms of height. Somehow, Derya herself had never realized that, and made up for her size with raw aggression, particularly directed at things wider or bustier than herself... which was most people, and more than a few inanimate objects. She fearlessly charged into everything she did, and never seemed to retain any lesson about thinking ahead or staying calm for any longer than a couple of hours.

It worked out for her, at least. Where willpower and endurance failed, she at least had the capacity to rival much wider girls in a very specific, very Inryoan way.

Aurelie was one of those much wider girls. From what was visible above the table, she resembled Elisalotte in a lot of ways- a little bustier, and a little taller, but otherwise within the higher end of Inryoan average. While Elisalotte was an hourglass, however, Aurelie was a true pear, taking up almost as much of the booth as Miho herself did. Her hips alone were double the width of her shoulders and then some, a goal that many girls would aspire to but sadly never reach. An equally-wide, freshly-empty glass sat beside her on the table, having once been full of a fizzy, neon-green drink that came off the exact same menu the losers would now have to order from.

You know, as a punishment.

Aurelie wasn't the widest among them, though. That was Miho's domain. Though she was every bit as modest as Derya above the waist, her immense ass took up almost the same space as two average girls pressed together would, and her hips were very nearly three times as wide as her shoulders were. Being flat only emphasized the sheer absurdity of her rear even more, and she was already on the tail end of the bell-curve.

Given her utterly unreasonable figure, she was the only one who had any right to not be worried- and yet, here she was, the only one with any sense in her head. It wasn't like she hadn't had drinks- she'd just done so in moderation, especially once the game started.

Then again, there was the peach soda she'd had on the subway ride over, and the large fruit punch she'd finished off while waiting for everyone else to arrive, and...

Oh well, there was nothing to be done about it now. Drinking in moderation was a concept exclusive to winners, after all- losers simply got the drinking part. Winners drank by choice, losers simply drank. Losers drank whatever, whenever, in whatever quantity winners deemed appropriate.

Elisalotte knew all of this first-hand, from being on the receiving end so often. It went without saying that she had an implicit understanding of Inryoan mercy, when it came to such things.

Namely, that there could be none. Miho gave the Specials menu one final looking over as their waitress approached the table. The cute, bespectacled brunette had ensured that all their glasses stayed topped off during their hours-long game, filling sporadic orders with remarkable speed and consistency- especially given the state she was in. Her uniform was purpose-built to emphasize it, with a midriff-bearing cut-off shirt and shorts so miniscule they may as well have been a belt- the perfect way to show off her bulging, full-to-bursting bladder and the constant, frantic crossing of her thighs. Despite being wholly unable to sit still, she still noted down orders precisely and completely, enduring the waves of desperation caused by the mere mention of each drink with professional practice.

She looked to be so far past her limit, teary-eyed and sweaty from the sheer effort of containing such an immense volume, but she held it all the same. When she returned from the back, a tray of massive drinks precariously balanced on one hand, the other jammed between her legs despite the fact that it now pressed hard into her burdensome, bowling-ball sized bladder. Each of her shaky steps must have sent a wave of agonizing need through her whole body, but she took **** care not to spill a single drop.

If she had, she'd start her next shift even more full than she was now. After all, that was the entire point of this particular café- big drinks, **** waitresses, and impeccable service.

All in all, they were a dime a dozen in any of Inryo's cities. Miho might have felt something approaching sympathy, if not for having spent a few years in the exact same job, or if her future looked even remotely different from what this particular waitress was enduring.

Really, all she felt was resignation. Resignation, and a tiny spark of happiness. Sure, the Bahama Mama she ordered was served in an entire pitcher, the bright, orange, tropical color practically advertising the **** potency of every drop within... but it was also delicious. Since she was going to be suffering anyway, may as well order a favorite.

Derya's choice in equally monstrous, tart blue lemonade and Aurelie's extra-large glass of something that looked like a fizzling, syrup-sweet sunset served in a tall glass indicated that they were probably thinking the exact same thing. Smaller and less unreasonable drinks did exist on the menu, after all.

Then again, they'd lost. Playing optimally didn't matter any more.