Fiora CYOA

	The Grand Duelist sighed, tugging her bodysuit up her legs and over her noticeable hips.
	“Another dull morning, another boring day,” Fiora huffed, slipping her arms into the suit and pulling the clinging material past her moderate breasts. Strapping on her breastplate, she looked at herself in the mirror. A raven haired beauty, a streak of red running through her neck-length hair to compliment her rosy lips. C-cup breasts and child-birthing hips offset by a tight, toned waist, with the vague outline of abdominal muscles outlined by a suit which left little to the imagination. Below that, thick but athletic thighs led to toned calves and dancer's feet. Fiora allowed herself a smile, proud of her dashing figure.
	“Well, with no Judgment today, I fear my schedule is depressingly blank. How to spend the day?

http://strawpoll.me/4897646/r

	“Just because I have the day off, doesn't mean I waste it. I'll root that bum Jax, and see if he'll be a worthy opponent!”
	Her course of action decided, Fiora finished donning her armor, strapped her swords to her waist, and set out to find the Grandmaster at Arms. Since there was only one way for him to be passing the time on his day off, Fiora immediately began to trawl through Demacia's many bars and taverns, following the trail of broken bar stools and shattered jaws until she narrowed down his location to a particularly sleazy part of town.
	The bar didn't even have a name, just a sign with the depiction of a rather curvaceous barmaid holding two flagons of ale. Scoffing, Fiora pushed open the door to the pub, bracing herself against the wash of stale air and stink of alcohol that came rushing out as she did so. As the bar patrons turned to look at the new arrival, some began to smirk lecherously. Chin held high, Fiora entered the bar amidst a hail of catcalls and wolf-whistles.
	As her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside of the bar, Fiora scanned the crowd for her mark. Spotting a distinctive purple robed silhouette, as well as an even more distinctive red-haired giant, Fiora picked her way to the table at which the figures sat. In front of Jax, countless discarded tankards lay, strewn about by drunken revelry. Gragas, on the other hand, only had his signature wooden keg, and was greedily downing its contents as Fiora approached the two. Curling her lip in distaste, the duelist coldly addressed the shabby figure: 	“Jax.”
	“Who- huh, what?” With the majority of his face hidden behind his mask, it was always difficult to tell exactly what Jax was looking at, but his head turned to face Fiora and he seemed to regard her before continuing. “You again? Look, I've told you, I ain't got your dedication for beating the sauce out of each other as training. A champion doesn't train, he just wins. So, if you're planning on dragging me away from the lovely evening I have planned, you better be giving me some incentive, yeah?” He punctuated his demand by grabbing another flagon of alcohol and slamming it down in front of himself.
	Bristling at the challenge, Fiora pondered her next move. Jax, especially a heavily-inebriated Jax, was stubborn as an ox and infinitely as strong. Getting him out of this dive would take some doing, but Fiora was struck with a sudden idea.

http://strawpoll.me/4897856/r

	As a strangely-hued serving girl strutted past, Fiora snatched a flagon from the girl's platter, and sat herself down across from Jax. Sneering at Jax, Fiora nods at his flagon. “How about this, zen? We 'ave a drinking contest, and if I win, you spend the rest of the day sparring with me.”
	“Woah, woah, woah, hold up, little lady. I've already been at the drink with the big guy here” Jax thumps Gragas on his belly “for quite some time. Either I get a handicap or I get a nice big reward for winning.” Fiora grinned as Jax took the bait.
	“Fine; if you win, I'll do any one zing you ask that's within my power.” Hearing that, Jax straightened up. He stuck a finger into Gragas stomach, hard enough to draw his attention away from his drink. The fat man seemed to notice Fiora for the first time, as he blinked the slow, heavy blink of the wasted.
	“Fatzo, me and the lady here are gonna have a match, and you're gonna ref it. Make sure neither of us cheats or doesn't drink all their liqueur.”

	The contest begins, and both participants down their first few flagons with ease. As she finished her fourth flagon of alcohol, Fiora began to feel the effects of all the ale. Jax's mask gave no indication of how he was faring, and for the first time, Fiora considered that challenging a barfly like Jax to a drinking contest might not have been the most prudent measure.
	'At this rate, I'll be so drunk I won't even be able to duel him!' as this thought flashed across her mind, Fiora realized she had to win the contest before she drank much more. She made a decision:

http://strawpoll.me/4898091/r

	“Jax,” Fiora offered “why don't we let this next drink decide the winner, yes? All or nothing, I believe it's called?” Jax made a show of pondering the deal, letting out a great deal of 'hums' and 'hahs', before placing both of his hands on the table and leaning towards Fiora.
	“Why not? But! If we're gonna do this, we do it right. High stakes call for high proof.” Fiora smiled a competitor's grin.
	“But of course.” Fiora stood up, bracing herself on the table, and called out: “Bartender! Two shots of the strongest drink you have!” As the waitress from before hurried over with the tray, the patrons finally took notice of the two champions and their makeshift battle. The atmosphere of the bar grew excited, then frenzied, as the waitress meekly placed the shots in front of the two legends. Fiora motioned to Jax, and they both picked up their glasses. Gazes locked, they threw back the shot glasses in unison.
	 As soon as the liquid entered her mouth, Fiora knew she had made a grave mistake. The drink was so vile that she could feel the fumes evaporating just from the warmth of her mouth. The taste was so bitter that a lesser woman would have gagged then and there. But Fiora was a duelist, THE duelist, and she wouldn't be taken down so easily! Fighting down her nausea Fiora forced herself to swallow. The drink traced a line of burning heat as it traveled down her throat, before settling in her stomach as a low but stoked fire.
	Suddenly, she didn't feel so well. Shooting a glance at Jax, Fiora saw that he was resting his head in his hands, and was drawing deep breaths. Feeling a surge of triumph, Fiora stood up, proclaiming: “Is that all you have, you miserable purple sack? This was hardly a-”
	Fiora was unable to finish her boasting before collapsing to the floor, unconscious.

–

	When she awoke, Fiora found herself lying on a firm mattress.. Through the fog of her addled mind, Fiora remembered her circumstances. Bolting upright, she looked around, finding herself alone in a rather spartan, plain room. She also found herself wearing only her bodysuit, her armor and weapons nowhere to be found. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, she drew the sheets around her form as the door opened, revealing the Grandmaster at Arms himself. “You're up earlier than I would'a thought. You went out like a light.”
	“I almost had you, at the end. You looked ready to pass out.”
	“Ready to, yes. But was I gonna? Do you really think I'm such a lightweight? Plus I have the smarts not to jump up after drinking something that tasty.” He waggled a gloved finger in her face as he continued: “Now, Missy, since you lost, you've gotta pay up. And I'm gonna call in that favor right away.”

http://strawpoll.me/4898265/r

“You can't expect me to wear this, can you?” Fiora's face twisted with equal parts disdain and horror: laying on the bed before her was a maid's outfit, but one unlike any Fiora had ever seen. Frilly and thin, the fabric was cut so that almost more skin was revealed than was covered; the skirt was short, the neckline low, and the stockings tight. Included were a pair of white gloves, silky and satin.
	“You lost a bet, you made the terms. You're my maid for a day, babe.” Jax was lounging against the wall, still clad in his trademark purple sack-cloth. “If you wanna back out, that'll be a mark on your honor. So pick, be my cute honorable maid, or an honor-less duelist?”
	Fiora bit her lip before offering, “May I at least wear my bodysuit underneath?”
	“But of course! That was what I had intended the whole time. Now, I'll take that as your acceptance of the situation. I've matters to attend to in town, so I'll leave you to get dressed and start working. Here's a list of what I want done. Have fun, babe!” With that proclamation, Jax excused himself, leaving Fiora alone with the embarrassing getup. Sighing, Fiora began to put on her new uniform.
	As she did so, she noticed something odd; where the outfit touched her suit, it was almost as though she weren't wearing her suit at all; the fabric rubbed against her skin in such an intense way Fiora wasn't sure if she was just imagining it or if she was still under the affects of whatever it was that she drank. As she pulled the rest of the outfit on, she looked at herself in the room's mirror.
	She cut a remarkable (if slutty) figure in her new uniform, the scarce cut of the cloth, combined with the sheer nature of her bodysuit, made her look almost like she was wearing overly-elaborate lingerie instead of a maid's uniform. Oddly enough, Fiora found herself not minding how -sexy- she looked, and struck a lascivious pose before catching herself and blushing.
	Remembering her duty, she looked at the list of tasks Jax had laid out for her, ready to get to work.

TO BE CONTINUED AT A LATER TIME