Chapter 4

Blake lay awake under her covers, feigning sleep while she waited for her new teammates to pass out. She was a part of team RWBY now, and while her comrades weren't exactly the ones she would have chosen, she had to admit that their trial in the Emerald Forest had warmed her to them a little. Even Schnee, who she grudgingly supposed she would have to start calling Weiss from now on so as not to seem standoffish. If nothing else, she could at least rest assured that her teammates were strong enough to be relied on in a fight. Living with them might turn out to be another matter, but that was a question for tomorrow, when they had planned to wake up early to unpack and decorate before classes started.

There was also the team across the hall: JNPR, the ones they had fought alongside in the forest. Other than Pyrrha, they were all… She supposed quirky was a suitable word. Odd, while more accurate, seemed a bit hurtful. Still, if those moments of battlefield bonding carried over into a real friendship, then Blake supposed having them live so close would be a blessing. Yang had also told them that some friends of hers were living on the same floor, albeit on the other side of the building, but having witnessed what Yang and her friends got up to, Blake wasn't sure how involved with them she cared to be.

She fought not to let her cat ears twitch as she listened to the sounds of the room again. Wearing her bow even to bed to hide her Faunus nature was going to be a pain. Schnee—Weiss was definitely asleep. She had dutifully put head to pillow as soon as they'd finished introducing themselves and made their plans for the next morning, and now she was breathing softly and slowly like the angel she resembled only physically.

Ruby had been antsy all evening, not that Blake could blame her. To find out that she was two years younger than any of them and had still been appointed team leader was no doubt a privilege and a burden on her, and the younger girl had been jittering well after Weiss had gone under. Discerning when she fell asleep, however, couldn't have been easier for one simple reason: Ruby snored. Thankfully, it was little more than a rhythmic little snort, rather than the grinding of a chainsaw. If it had been any louder, Blake would have worried that she'd never be able to sleep again unless she could think of a way to plug all four of her ears without looking conspicuous.

Yang was the most difficult to determine, despite being in the bed on the same side of the room as Blake's. Every time Blake thought the blonde was asleep, there'd come the crinkle of bedclothes as she rolled over or sighed in a way that Blake couldn't discern as being sleepy or awake. Ruby had been asleep for half an hour now, and Yang was still turning. Blake did her best to stop rubbing her thighs together as she waited, but this was starting to get ridiculous. She'd been horny all day, damn it! They'd had a fight for their lives mere hours ago, so why couldn't Yang just get tired and go to sleep?

Finally, Blake couldn't take it anymore. She sat up, making sure she made no noise, and looked over at Yang's bed. The blonde was splayed across the mattress, having kicked her way out from perhaps half of the covers. Her mouth was open, her eyes were closed, and her diaphragm rose and fell far too slowly for her to be awake. Blake furrowed her brow. Looking at her, Yang had probably been asleep for an hour, only keeping Blake from her catharsis because she was a restless sleeper. Not to mention, with her mouth gaping like that and with her hair ruffled and her limbs flung out from all her moving around, she painted something of a sensual figure. Blake supposed, knowing what little of Yang she did, that the image was appropriate, if not a trifle irritating.

But at least she was asleep. Blake crept out of her bed and crouched amongst her suitcases in the corner by her bed. She rifled through the compartments of her bags until she found her copy of Ninjas of Love and her hairbrush. She took them, along with her Scroll and her earbuds, into the bathroom and locked the door. The bathroom had dimmer switches, though Blake had no idea why they would have such things installed at a school. She supposed it was to save money on light bulbs and electricity, but it seemed a tad saucy to give hormonal teenagers coed rooms with access to mood lighting. However, a little window of obscured glass at head height in the shower let in a nice ambient glow without her having to turn on the lights

She sat on the toilet, freshly cleaned in preparation of her team's arrival. How lovely that she would be the one to give it a christening. She plugged in her earbuds and clicked through her Scroll to her music playlists. She Scrolled down until she reached the one titled 'Reading Music' and set it to play. Soft guitar and saxophone music began to tickle in her ears. The playlist was mostly smooth jazz and lounge music, but not the kind she would listen to in public. A few seconds into the song, and a heavy, distinctively female breath sounded alongside the music. By the time the song was halfway over, the instruments were joined by a carnal chorus of moans and wet, popping sounds that could have been kisses put probably weren't.

Blake closed her eyes and swayed to the erotic tunes, letting the sound venture from her ears down to her core. The rocking made her throb, and she tried to make the pulses of pleasure sync up with the beat of the song. When she felt her breath starting to catch in her throat, her body's heat moving between her legs and to either side of her nose, she finally opened her book to the page she'd left off on, where the novice ninja Miyu had just been captured by the mysterious Master Kenta.

Miyu struggled to free her arm, Blake read, but the kunai Kenta had thrust through her sleeve held firm, and the weapon's blunt blade made tearing through the fabric impossible. To make matters worse, she couldn't even struggle with all her might, poised on the tree branch so high above the ground. One wrong move could send her plummeting to her death.

"Careful," Kenta said, striding as easily across the narrow branch as he might a wide bridge. "Lose your balance at this height, and a rookie shinobi like you won't be able to recover."

He stalked closer, taking a moment to flick the hilt of the kunai imbedded in the tree's trunk, as if he needed anything more than her continued presence to confirm its solidity. He reached his gloved hands to his mask and lifted it off his head. Beneath was revealed a handsome face, with a strong, angular jaw and a long, sharp chin. His eyes were like a cat's, bright and green, and a scar stretched from his forehead, across his left eye, to his ear. He was older than her, but not so old that his face had lost its youthful vigor.

"I've had my eyes on you for a long time, Miyu," he said as he reached up and pulled the pin that was holding his hair back. Gorgeous locks of silver hair cascaded down to his shoulders.

"I've heard all the gossipers talking about you, about the beautiful daughter of the great Akita family," he continued as he removed the glove from his left hand. "And you are beautiful, Miyu."

He slid his bare hand under the lapel of her gi and cupped her bosom.

Blake slipped her free hand into her kimono and fondled her right breast, alternately squeezing and rolling her thumb over her hardening nipple.

Miyu cried out, but there was no one in the forest to hear her except Kenta. His touch made her want to melt, as if his palm were pumping heat into her body. When it seemed simply feeling her was not enough, with a flick of his wrist, her gi fell open to reveal her sculpted bust.

Blake shrugged her kimono off her shoulders, moonlight washing over her chest as she resumed groping her tit.

Miyu's insides felt like they were on fire, each motion of Kenta's fingers across her yielding flesh driving rational thought from her mind. It took all her focus to keep her shaking knees from collapsing and sending her tumbling downwards.

"What sort of ninjutsu is this?" she stammered, barely able to maintain her composure.

"No ninjutsu," Kenta replied, tweaking her nipple in a way that made her mind go blank. "Just skill. You crave power, don't you? You want to break away from the bonds your family has placed on you? I can teach you how. I can make you invisible, able to strike from the shadows with impunity. I can teach you to do what I'm doing and drive men and women alike mad with a simple touch. Would you like that?"

Miyu's body was crying out for more, and what little logic she still possessed knew that the man spoke true. He had ambushed her effortlessly, defeated and immobilized her too quickly for her to react. He wasn't lying when he said he could give her strength.

"Yes," she pleaded. "Teach me."

He smiled, though whether his intentions were noble or malicious, Miyu couldn't tell. "Very well," he whispered in her ear. "Then you must do exactly as I say. Will you?"

She nodded, her tongue suddenly unable to form words. He gripped the back of her gi, and without a word of warning, he tore it off entirely.

Blake sat up just enough to undo the sash at her waist before letting the outfit slide down her arms into a puddle on the floor, leaving her in nothing but her lacy black panties. As Kenta continued exploring Miyu's body, Blake's hands mirrored his, going from her breasts to her smooth stomach, testing the difference between the soft flesh around her navel and the firm texture of her abdominals.

When at last Kenta's probing touch reached between Miyu's legs, Blake couldn't get her hand down her panties fast enough, tangling her fingers in her pubic hair. She was already soaked, foreplay practically a formality. She teased the inner lining of her labia and used her fingertips to flirt with her entrance, and she had to bite her lip to keep from groaning. When Kenta freed Miyu of the last of her clothes, Blake tore her underwear off and let it fall to rest beside her kimono. Blake attacked her clit, alternating between rubbing with her fingers and gently patting it in time with the music in her ears.

At last, Kenta freed Miyu from the tree, leaving her clinging to the branch with her legs and putting her face to face with his erection. Blake followed Miyu's lead, slipping three fingers past her lips as her heroine took her new master into her mouth. Blake could taste herself on her hand, a tang that lingered on her tongue but wasn't unpleasant. When her fingers were dripping with spit, she grabbed her hairbrush and started running her sopping hand up and down its handle. As Kenta lifted Miyu off the branch, her legs dangling over his arms, Blake spread her thighs and placed the butt of her brush against her pussy.

The book was unnecessary now, so she placed it on the sink, closed her eyes, and pushed the handle of the brush inside, just an inch before she pulled back and repeated the process. Gradually she pushed deeper, teasing new depths, new degrees of sensitivity, until all four inches of plastic were inside her. She paused a moment to catch her breath, letting her makeshift dildo rest as deep as it could plumb her. She imagined herself there in the woods with Kenta, his broad chest pressed against her slender body while his strong hands kept her back from rubbing against the rough bark of the tree. She imagined her legs kept wide by his powerful arms and his throbbing manhood encased within her, pre-cum weeping into her like drops of napalm.

She began to gyrate her wrist, the brush handle dilating her walls and striking every tender spot as it, appropriately, combed through her. She slid it in and out, slow at first, but picking up speed as it became harder and harder to control herself. Soon, the hand that was helping her keep balanced on the toilet forsook its duty and flew to her clit, leaving her to adjust her position to keep her balance, a task made difficult as she began bucking her hips in time with the motions of her hands.

It felt like all her blood was being funneled to her vagina, building pressure like a universal collapse. Her body was on autopilot, the only voluntary motions being her attempts at controlling her voice and keeping herself from falling over. She was at the point of no return, where even if Yang or Weiss were to open the door, she wouldn't be able to stop. Just the thought of one of them walking in provided the release valve for all the pent-up frustration. The joints of her legs locked up as she came, her thighs and hips in spasms as wave after wave of pleasure slammed into her, each twitch of her fingers on the brush lifting her back to the top of the mountain whenever she felt she was coming down.

She wasn't sure how long the orgasm lasted, but when it had finally ceased, she collapsed in a fit of panting breaths, her bangs clinging to her forehead. Beads of arousal dripped down her legs, carrying away the tension in her core. She removed the brush handle from her pussy the way she might have pulled a knife from a wound, each motion making her twitch and wince until it was gone, leaving her feeling strangely empty. She sat there with her eyes closed, her music the only thing still forging on. When she'd caught her breath and the aftershocks had faded, she looked towards the window, the blurred image of the moon visible behind the frosted glass.

I needed that, she thought with a small smile.

She put her clothes back on after she'd cleaned herself off, and she washed her brush and her hands under the tap. When she'd dried off with the towel she'd stowed under the sink, she turned her music off and cracked the bathroom door. She peeked into the bedroom and was glad to see that she hadn't woken her teammates. She supposed that made her a ninja of self-love.

And that joke means I desperately need to go to sleep, she thought, almost rolling her eyes at herself.

She put her book, her Scroll, and her hairbrush away before hopping into bed and snuggling into the covers. Exhaustion stole over her in seconds, and, finally contented, she drifted off.