Not So Fast!

Lyra’s eyes flashed wide with that same fractured intensity. The moment Bayley’s fingers yanked hard at her top, Lyra twisted violently against the fence, using the chain-link for leverage. She drove a sharp knee up into Bayley’s ribs, then followed with a wild, looping elbow that cracked across Bayley’s temple.

Bayley’s grip broke. She stumbled back a step, dazed.

Lyra shoved off the fence like a spring and charged. She grabbed Bayley by the shoulders, spun her, and slammed her down hard onto the gravel. Bayley hit with a grunt, the blue-and-silver of her gear scraping against the rough ground. Before she could roll away, Lyra dropped on top of her, pinning her shoulders with both knees.

That manic grin returned—wider now, almost delighted.

Lyra’s gaze dropped. The struggle and the earlier impacts had shifted Bayley’s high-cut top just enough. A flash of her bra—dark against the pale skin—peeked from beneath the mesh and sequins. Lyra’s head tilted, the broken little laugh bubbling up again.

“Ohhh… look at that,” she whispered, almost sing-song. “The Role Model’s already showing off.”

Without hesitation she reached down, fingers hooking into the neckline and straps of Bayley’s top. She wrenched upward with both hands, trying to peel the garment up and over Bayley’s head while she still had her pinned, determined to expose more of what the stipulation promised.