Restrained⍆ m.e/s.m + omaha squad

~1~

"Okay, baby girl, you've got to get to class."

I look up to see my blond, blue-eyed, adorable, wise best friend, Jack Johnson, staring at me with his arms crossed.

I move my monopoly piece three spaces, and then grunt. "Ugh, Jack you bring out the best in me but I'm lazy. I don't wanna go today!"

"Come on, Sheridan, you are a fighter! You got your black belt in karate at age 6 and now you are taking Krav Maga! Do you know what a big deal that is? Not only is that a self defense class, but it's fighting techniques and shit is taught to army soldiers and police officers! You gotta go fight and I better see--"

"Bloody knuckles when I get home," I finish Johnson's sentence with confidence. I love him; he gives me that same speech every time I get lazy about going to my fighting class. And of course I know he's going to say...

"Sher, I love you for being so badass! You can literally kick anyone's ass!" Jj throws his hands up in the air.

I finish the last sentence of his usual speech."But, I don't want literal bloody knuckles because I don't want you hurt. I want the bloody knuckles and strongly healed scars to be in your tough heart, mind, and soul."

I laugh, giving Jj a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He laughs, murmuring something about how I always finish his sentences.

Jack has always had a beautiful, lyrical way with words. I swear, that'll get him far one day. And not to mention, his repetition and speed-talking is the reason I listen so intently to everything he says until I reach the point where I finish his sentences. Perfect example for today: my lazy "Get off your ass and fight" speech, only presented when I don't wanna go to Krav Maga. Wait till you hear Johnson's "Beat Your Opponent Raw" speech.

I exit Johnson and I's near-campus house and hop in my car. I'm already dressed in my proper clothing for class, so I decide to drive straight to class and be a little earlier.

I arrive at the joint and grab my usuals: water, punching gloves, thin gloves, plastic retainer, crotch cup, bandages, and extra ice. I leave all my other occasional stuff in my car.

I walk up to the building that houses my class; it's fairly big, which has always made me wonder why such a small portion of the building is used for class.

People exiting from the beginners class greet me as I walk into the Krav Maga studio. I'm greeting by one of my instructors, Leo, a middle-aged bald man. But, don't underestimate him. His punch would knock a bull out.

And then the youngest instructor, Jack Gilinsky, comes up and pats me on the back. He usually instructs my expert class, but today he isn't dressed in his usual sweats and bro-tank; he's wearing basketball shorts and a hoodie.

I'll admit, he will have any girl drooling over him. I mean his jawline could easily slice through cheese! Oh, and his eyes... Oh his dark, enticing eyes. And that body... man.

Yeah, yeah. I had a crush on him for a couple months. But now, as he said, "we are strictly professional."

"Sheridan, I need to talk to you."

"Sure, Jack." I take my tank top off, leaving me in only yoga pants and a black sports bra. Jack scans me, but as I stated before, it's for strictly professional reasons. I put on my thin gloves, examining the blood stains around my knuckles.

"Wait, you won't be needing those today," Gilinsky says, placing his giant hand on mine.

"Okay..." I trail off before taking my knuckle gloves off.

"Follow me." Teacher Gilinsdreamy starts to walk towards the locker rooms and bathrooms. He slows down a little to make sure I can keep up. Despite me being tall, he's taller, and I haven't managed to pick up on the skill of catching up to his long legs.