Diana sprinted, going down the track as fast as she could. This has always been her thing, running- just how long her legs were, even growing up, gave her a solid advantage that was hard to meet.

This was merely a practice (the next legitimate meet was next week), but Diana gave it her all, pushing her body to its best as she let her mind wander off to the seven girls who were shrunk.

Natasha was cooped up in the ravenette's bra, and Diana could feel the mute's tiny body bouncing between her breasts, back and forth in line with her footfalls. She wasn't the issue, surprisingly- while Diana's mind whirled with doubt and hope in about equal measure about Natasha's proposal, there was definitely more positives than negatives in that aspect. Diana did remind herself that sign language was probably something she'd have to take up, to earn what she'd received, but honestly she had all the time in the world.

Diana was almost equally fine with Paris, Becky, Tamara, and Kayla- those four were all going to help her more than hurt her, out of either their own code of honor or acceptance that Diana was merely desperate. At least, that was what the Amazonian lesbian hoped; however, there was no telling which way they would lean.

However, Rei and Val scared Diana more than she was willing to admit. They were smart, had learned exactly which strings to tug to make Diana their own marionette. Worse, they each were really likely to try to spin this story to get Diana locked away for good, if not put to death. She couldn't think of a way to defuse that bomb without potentially making it bigger, which only made the issue more frightening. Soon, even with the absoltely criminal level of parental negligence that was going on (no police outreach, no questioning, no signs whatsoever of an investigation),someone was bound to go searching for the girls eventually, and Diana doubted herself before people trained to weed out lies, to cut away any possible defense Diana could potentially muster.

There was really only one hope: that Val and Rei never again see the outside world. Still, she doubted her capacity for real cruelty on that level. Diana would not be made a murderer any more than she already was . . . that was something that nothing would change.

***NATASHA***

Life was good, the mute had to admit.

The uneven rocking she was getting from being cooped up in Diana's cleavage, plus the strong scent of brass and salt that was the massive athlete's sweat, was definitely a familiar, happy place to Natasha- it felt like a long day at relatively rough seas, and the darkness was definitely not a dealbreaker. However, the newer aspects of being here while the ravenette ran- the heavy thumping of her heart, the swelling rise and fall of regulated deep breaths, the mild crunching down below of sneakers impacting pavement- were almost . . . exciting.

Natasha admitted to herself that she had it bad. 

Yes, Diana still scared her somewhat, especially what with her display earlier of making absolutely sure Alex stood down, but . . . Natasha had already rationalized that it was for the best. What would happen to her if Diana got caught, after all- probably far worse than she could imagine! At least the Amazon was only out for a girlfriend, and was relatively harmless all things considered . . . being caught below someone else Natasha had helped torment under Anne's orders would probably end in one of a few assorted painful deaths.

Besides, Natasha thought with an embarrassed grin, she liked being forced down and fucked raw. With a little self-confidence, Diana could definitely do that for her, and would if Natasha made it clear that was what she wanted. The mute went red imagining it, and realized something.

She was going to be the next Val, alright. She was going to wrap Diana around her little finger. However, she didn't want murder. She wanted sex, pure and simple. However, what set her apart from Val, Penny, and Rei was one simple detail:

Diana was probably perfectly fine with being used to sate Natasha's sexual appetite.

This might just have been the mute brunette's own self-indulgent train of thought; however, she doubted it.

***PARIS***

Paris had always been a designated "gamma" personality- never very important, never in the spotlight, always doing as she was told by the actual important people in a group. She didn't like being mean to anyone, but would do it when ordered. She always knew her place.

However, now she didn't know what to think. 

Anne was gone, Evy was gone, Val was now a servant to Becky, even Rei wasn't able to tell her what was what. The only one left to take orders from that would give them was Diana, and she was both out all day and had yet to speak directly to Paris.

This led to the tiny teen sitting. Thinking. Observing.

Tamara and Kayla were currently discussing how best to bridge a conversation with Diana on keeping everyone warm, because heat was the biggest issue, and the only real threat to their safety. Minus Val's influence, Diana's worst seemed to be exile, so much of the mortal terror had defused, so the two girls discussed Diana as if she were just a rather irritating relative.

Val was currently enduring the worst of Becky's anger, the normally cheery girl kicking the blonde repeatedly while she was down. Paris didn't interfere, but couldn't watch for long. She was made sick by how quickly everyone had turned on each other. One short week, and all her friends had become vicious and angry . . . it made tears well up in Paris's eyes.

But no one paid any attention.

Most people never did.

***DIANA***

Locker room showers were never comfortable. Hadn't been even before being forcefully outted.

However, being segregated away from everyone else while she did so was rather unfair. It wasn't all that bad, all things considered, considering that Diana understood the logic- the other girls were uncomfortable with the thought of being leered at by their Amazonian teammate while they were relatively defenseless under the hot water- but it was still demeaning.

However, being made to shower last, after everyone else got dressed, came with distinct advantages, like no actual time limit. Like the water being almost guaranteed to be hot, as it wasn't being forced into any other showerhreads.

Like being able to wash herself and little Natasha simultaneously.

She had known about Shrinking Violet's ability to distort and amplify emotions . . . but she had never listed "horny" as an emotion before. Holy hell, she hadn't needed sign to comprehend Natasha's hand gestures after practice.

So, in order to best satisfy tiny Natasha's insane lust without hurting her, Diana had played fingers over the miniscule girl's body, taken care to wear the brunette down with rolling, kneading, and gentle stroking done with exclusively one hand, while the other worked to clean Diana's own sweat-soaked body, to wash away the stickiness of sweat from practice.

This is steamy in more ways than one, Diana thought wryly, using a single finger to help clean her own cloying sweat out of Natasha's scalp. She was honestly in disbelief- a drop-dead sexy mute was actually orgasming in the palm of her hand, bucking and thrashing in the way one would assume is exclusive to porn.

Diana finished cleaning herself up with one hand, and looked at the post-orgasmic brunette in her hand- eyes aflutter, chest heaving, smooth body sprawled out in Diana's palm- and let out a rattling breath. 

Show self control, she chided herself, show self-control. You need to prove you can wait for her . . . maybe masturbate while thinking of her later, Diana permitted herself, entirely forgetting Natasha herself had suggested the idea.

It still took an immense amount of self-discipline to leave that shower room without touching herself.

"Just thirteen days," Diana reminded herself, that delay seeming decades away.