SuziSuzuki!! vs. Rebecca
Leaning down as I have you in a sit, midring, the fingers of my left hand sunk into your right trapezius muscle, my right hand grabbing my taped left wrist while lean my weight down and drive the educated tips of my fingers into that nerve cluster. Punishing you, my legs spread wide and up on my tiptoes as I spit down on you. “Say geev ahp, yes?? Geev ahp???” in my thick accent
So strong I am. So ready I was when our match began. And yet now, after almost 40 minutes, I am spent. Exhausted. And Helpless as in the center of the ring you keep me trapped. Not in some vine of limbs, but with a single hand. The digits on which dig into soft, defenseless triggers of pain I didn’t even know existed.
Triggers which cause me to bend over at the thoracic spine. Barely able to keep myself from falling, though you do it for me. Your lips demanding my surrender in an accent that would be cute if it weren’t the sound of my torment. “No….” I reply weakly as I reach for your attacking hand. One I cannot reach. Not because it is unreachable, but instead because of the pain in the nerve endings that would be necessary to do so. Leaving me entirely in your control.
“Yaaaaaahhh!!” my melodic voice screams out, echoing off the old, concrete walls of the small basement ring room where we’ve been paid to battle. My calves flex just above the tape around my ankles as I remain up on my toes, leaning in and putting my 125lbs deep into your trapezius muscle to inflict maximum pain on the tough muscle girl. My thighs also flexing, quads rounding and toned ass clenching around the back of my shiny black t-back thong. My DDs lightly bounce under a thin layer of shiny black material, nipples rock hard and tenting the too small bikini top. Having dominated this match, for the most part, I smile from behind sweat slicked strings of my dark hair. “No geev?” I sing song down to you. “Guuuuddd…” I half moan as I lean in, working the right side of your body into jelly.
Under your weight and the agony you inflict I whimper. Almost seeming to melt beneath you. My bravado and might having evaporated long before you locked on this hold. And though it has — and though it did, I fight on. Refusing to submit. Refusing to let you have this victory. Even as the unmanned camera films my suffering.
Films your moment of complete domination. A domination which sees you almost leap into the air, as when you come back down to the mat, you DIG your fingers deeper into my flushed and aching trapezius.
An increasing of pressure that makes me groan out in pain, as my matted, tangled, sweat-wet hair dangles down before my eyes. MY C-cup breasts heaving as I try, desperately to breathe.
Each such sucking of air growing harder and harder, as in the middle of the squared-circle I sit. Thighs spread in a wide, Indian style position. The damp spot in the center of my thin, baby blue, 2-piece bottoms slowly disappearing as my own pouring perspiration coats and soaks the same fabric.
My upper tricep visibly shaking from the effort of punishing this muscled hardbody, I grit my teeth as I try to fight off the lactic acid attacking my arms and bringing on the familiar feeling of fatigue. My bare toes digging into the sweat as well as other juices stained canvas as I finally decide I need to switch up tactics. Moving totally behind you, I quickly drop to my thonged clad ass, spreading my muscled legs wide before snapping them back together high on your ribcage. “AYAAAAA!!” I shout, my taped ankles locking in front of you, turning to rest on my right elbow and looking to give my left arm a rest. “Cahm ahn!! Wot yuu say?” I screech out, jerking my body once, then twice as my thighs flex and I tighten up the sitting body scissors.
Finally, finally, finally I feel the endless and agonizing pressure applied to my trapezius relent. And it does, I exhale loudly and in a soul-deep relief. But even before that audible escape of pent up breath leave my body, you drop down, and devise a new method of torture. Your sexy, strong legs wrapping around me and then and then locking shut like a bear-trap.
A bear trap that once more makes me suffer and wilt, but this time. As you make clear your irritation at my unwillingness to give, I find it within me to fight! To press my bare feet into the mat, and with my own muscle-etched legs to lift my ass off the mat. Then, as you roll back, ready for whatever I might pull. I use what is left of my once formidable strength to spin, even within your taped-ankle torture, and then dive at you. Atop you. Hoping I can break through your body scissor. Hoping I can FINALLY take back control in this seemingly endless fight.
But as I land atop you. My face, coming to a rest just between your still covered breasts, you once more lock your legs tight and squeeze. So hard I cannot breathe. So hard I cannot see. At the pain I moan out — groan out, and then gently tap your hip. Giving to you. Hoping that finally, I will be free of your dominance.
I jerk my sweat slicked, glistening body once more. Reveling in the moans that blurt past your full lips as i punish you for being weak. It’s then that you remind me that you’re stronger than most as you stomp your bare soles to the canvas and jerk back. With a twist, using our natural sweat as a lubricant, you manage to twist and almost fall atop me. I quickly jerk my arms out wide for balance before recoiling my legs and then snapping them shut, once again, with trap like effectiveness. “AHSSSAAAA!!” I scream, leaning back while my DDs bob, the nipples still diamond tip hard and I catch you, again, on those upper ribs. The slight bit of drool dribbling down the side of your mouth as you moan tells me what you confirm….You’re done. A quick tap lets me know that you’ve given in and I smile wryly. “Guud girl.” I whisper, giving you one more pulse of my thighs before opening my legs and rolling to my side to release you.
It’s over. Finally. The pain. The struggle. The humiliation of being beaten so thoroughly by a woman I saw as an equal before our match began. And though that ending is heaven-sent, still do I cry, curled up into a ball next to you.
A smirk no doubt on your face. Your dark eyes studying my weakness and despair. I hate you. Though before today we were strangers. I loathe you, though I agreed to every bit of what happened here today.
But it is finished and I have done what I promised and will get the money I so desperately need. With that payment in mind, and sure you are gone. I slowly press myself up to my knees, wiping tears and run mascara away from my shame-filled eyes. Hoping to make a quick escape to the changing room, without seeing another human being. Hoping to forget all that happened here as quickly as I possibly can.
That is until I feel it, your hand slide through my sweaty hair, and grab it tight — pulling me towards some new horror — some new pain.
I slowly stand, your body quivering and groaning beside me as I get to my feet. Wiping sweaty hair from my face, I walk behind you, quickly peeling my wet top from my body and releasing my firm, but enhanced, DDs. The nipples still hard as I stroll to my bag and pull out a huge, nine inch black dildo and harness before stripping out of my thong. Walking back towards your still struggling body, I reach and grab a handful of that thick, wet hair as you get to your knees. “Where yuu going, slut?” I hiss, “You here to serve me now!” I jerk your head around by the hair while my free hand snaps down, smacking you across the face to remind you of who just beat your ass.
“Now slut….strip!” I shout down at you, releasing your hair and standing back. Dropping the plastic phallus to the canvas, then putting my hands on my hips as I bite my lower lip….watching and waiting for you to comply.
“Owe, owe….” I mutter in only the softest of protests, as you yank me to the side so hard, that in the wetness of the canvas I spin towards you on my knees. In your hands I see a giant, black, strap-on.
In your eyes a look of fire and force I cannot match, not after all I have been through. After all you have done to me.
And in front of me your sweat-slicked body. One rippled with definition I wish I had, coupled with breasts I have always wanted.
Each of them telling me to submit. To obey. And though there is a pride still inside me. Somewhere, buried beneath the memory of nerve holds and scissors, I still wilt. My trembling hands moving to my bikini top and bottoms and pulling them off and down. Not because I want to, but because I know I would be a fool to resist you.
My mistress for this moment.
My wrestling queen, as you have deemed.
“Yuu are guud slut for me, yes!” I smile as I watch you comply. Slowly stripping out of your sopping clothes, revealing that thickly muscled body most deities would dream of….that, now, belongs to me. Biting my lower lip, transfixed by your beauty and physique, it makes me want to break you even more. I reach down, shaping my index and middle finger into a V and place them on each side of my already swollen petals. Pulling them up as I sigh and release my waiting bladder, aiming a hot stream of yellow piss right for your face. “Open fahkeen mouth!!” i shout at you as I drench you in my urine. “Thees eeven tuu guud for yuu!” I shout before rearing back and letting fly a glob of spit to mix in with the golden shower you’re getting the privilege of having. I laugh as I finish up, then step into the harness and securing the thick cock in place. “Yuu nahtheen but trash!” I shout, grabbing your wet hair with both hand and shoving your gaping mouth onto the erect cock. “There. Start saahkeen!” I grunt as my hips start to gyrate.
They said it as if it were an afterthought. A quick little note. A P.S. of little if any import. “Oh, and uh there might be some after match stuff if the winner wants.”
I dismissed it. Ignored it. Certain that I would win and that when I did, I would maybe step on your chest and pose. Maybe lift you and carry you around the ring triumphantly. And yet here I am. On my knees. Stripping myself nude for you. My sopping wet ring attire dropping to the mat as I look up at you with puppy dog eyes.
Hoping for mercy. For softness. For even gentle sensuality, perhaps. But then it comes as you spread your lips. A hot stream of piss you fire not at my body, but at my lips. Lips which part as you instruct, letting your golden arch of dominance enter and fill my mouth.
An allowance that makes me cough and hack. Hack and drool out, as if I might vomit right there and then. Not because I am rebellious but because of the thought of it. Not the pee itself, but my own weakness. And your overpowering dominance.
A dominance you exert again as you demand that I suck your after-market cock. A black one, visibly stained from those girls you beat before. Girls who no doubt did just what I now do. Leaning forward, and with my urine soaked lips parted in a oval-shaped circle, take it in. Sucking it.
And as if you are the man of my dreams.
Knowing that if I do not, things will only get worse.
“Mmmm…yesssss….yuu such guud slut for Suzi!” I shriek in glee, both hands in your wet hair now. Using the sweat and piss laden strands as a leash to jerk your head back and forth, burying the thick, veiny, black dick down your throat, forcing you to gag and sputter as I sneer down at you. “Nahteen baht trash!!!” I hiss, pulling the dildo out after ramming it down your throat a final time. Giving your face a hard and loud slap before using your head to pull your head down to the mat where I put my bare sole on the back of your head. “Now….kiss foot!!” I shout down at you, rearing back again and unleashing another thick glob of saliva on your well muscled back.
You are so beautiful. So hot. And in truth, I have always had in me a desire to submit. To give in to another. And be owned. Be controlled. But you are so cruel. So hateful. That as you wrench my head back and forth, choking me with your ebony cock, I begin to cry once more. Not even able to look at you as you torture me while calling me trash.
A name that suits how I feel, there on my knees before you. My self-worth shattered. My gym-earned confidence sapped from me. So much so that as you yank me down, and demand I kiss your feet, drips of saliva mixed with urine dripping onto your feet, I comply. Not eventually. Not after thought. But in an instant. Feeling, at this moment like I am your slave. That I am worthless.
My lips puckering and planting in small, gentle kisses that climb your left foot slowly. The saliva you spit at me sliding down my back and to the mat as I continue, in tiny heaves, to sob.
I moan loudly as your lips caress my bare foot and your long tongue slides between the toes then up the top to the tape on my ankle. I absently run my hands up my ripples abs and under my enhanced DDs before cupping them, my thumbs roughly flicking the hard nipples as i watch you subjugate yourself fully to your Asian Mistress. “Now for fun!” I say in my sing-song voice. Making sure the harness is cinched up and secured, I pull my foot from your face and move behind you. Kneeling, I slap your ass..”Spread legs!”I command as I put the head of the cock atop your ass crack and grab those rock hard cheeks, spreading them. Without hesitation, I slide the tip down the valley of your ass before roughly ramming the head into your asshole, going about halfway in and then stopping…wanting you to get the shock of the thick, veiny plastic entering your rear. I slap both ass cheeks as I lean in a bit. “Tell Suzi yuu wahnt eet.” I say plainly. “Say it.”
What if I had beaten you? What if I had won? Knowing what I know now. Knowing what you would have done to me. How would I punish you? How hard would I subjugate you? How much fun would it be to watch you cry…? To watch you do, as I do now…?
I cling to those thoughts as I worship your feet. My tears dripping onto the skin of the same and then rolling between your toes. That descent adding a taste of salt to my sequential lapping of one valley between toes and then another.
I can hear you enjoying it. My tongue. My kisses. And I hope, pathetic though it is, that you will soften. That you will reward me.
But just as that silly, foolish thought enters my mind you move around me, pry my thick ass cheeks apart, and then without warning drive your 9-inch rod into my chocolate rose. And when you do, I scream out in pain.
That entrance has never been used. By boyfriends or girlfriends — lovers or friends. It always having been off limits. To everyone but you. A woman to whom I lost the right to refuse.
A loss of autonomy I do not question, even as my insides tear. Or when you demand I tell you that I want it. My lips opening, as in the most timid, quivering, terrified voice you have ever heard I respond. “I…. I….” I fight to speak between sobbs. “I want … it…. Give…. Me…. More….”
A wide grin upturns my lips, just before they peel back in a vicious snarl and I flex my six pack tummy. Violently thrusting my hips forward, my hands grab your wide hips as I start to undulate my body and ram the plastic phallus home. Letting out wild grunt with each thrust, my firm DDs bounce wildly on my chest as I jackhammer that black cock deep into your anus. Back and forth, back and forth I go, listening to you groan and grunt with each forceful pounding. Your muscled ass slamming into my muscled pelvis, our damp hair flying wildly as I give you what you’ve asked for.
“You….uhhhhh….luv…..uuhhhhHHH….this…..uuUhhhhh….don’t you….UHHHHH?!” I groan pounding you harder and hard as my hands slide from your hips, up the sides of your muscled frame and to your mouth where I hook a finger on each side, effectively fish hooking your as I abuse your ass. The sweat flying off me as I jerk my body harder and harder, wanting to really teach you a lesson in punishment.
For nearly three hours, you punish me under the hot lights of the arena. In front of the recording camera and for all those who ordered the live stream. And not once do I resist you or fight for my own freedom. Letting you do as you please, and yet still you are cruel. Still you taunt me. Still you ravage me. Until you are so tired, so satisfied in your lust for domination and humiliation, that you collapse onto the mat, your eyes blinking closed.
Your last command to me coming only in a fatigued and failing mutter. “Lieck sweat off body, slave. Then you go.”
One I needn’t listen to, give how spent you are and that only a moment later, you fall asleep.
And yet I do. Spending the next 30 minutes in silence, washing every inch of your body with my gold-coated tongue.
One that finally retracts into my dry mouth before I roll out of the ring, gather my clothes, and after dressing leave.
Our encounter being a nightmare I will forever remember. And you an alpha mistress I will never forget.