Safiyah Neferet vs. Gwendolyn DuPont Bettencourt - Reclaim The Throne

[Lightman]

Safiyah’s world narrowed to sensation and symbolism rather than flesh, the moonlit arena feeling less like a battleground and more like a living fresco in which willpower itself was being tested. The pressure that enclosed her was not described in crude terms but as an overwhelming assertion of authority, an imperial presence that sought to bend her spine and temper her defiance into something ornamental. Her once coiled resistance did not vanish, yet it was forced inward, compressed beneath the weight of expectation and dominance that Gwendolyn so effortlessly embodied. Blue hair spilled across the canvas as Safiyah’s breath came shorter, her heterochromatic gaze flashing with a mixture of fury and incredulity. This was not surrender, she told herself, but a moment of reckoning, the stark understanding of how close she stood to the precipice between rebellion and being made an example of before all who watched.

Disbelief trembled through Safiyah when she finally found her voice, breath rasped and edged with defiant disbelief rather than submission. “You speak of thrones and crowns as if they were eternal…” she muttered, the words strained yet unbroken, each syllable a refusal to yield her spirit even as her body was compelled to stillness. The containment tightened, forcing low sounds from her throat that betrayed effort and discomfort rather than pleasure, grunts drawn out as she fought to regain leverage that was no longer there. Her hands clawed for purchase, bare feet pressing against the ground as she endured the constriction with stubborn resilience. Even held fast, Safiyah’s resolve flickered like a living ember, promising that this moment, however suffocating, would not be the end of her resistance but merely another verse in an unfinished duel.

[killcarrion]

Imperious whims dictated the fates of any yearning for celestial providence. An opportunity to be bathed within prosperous kismet once deemed to be worthy vassals within the divine sanctity of their ethereal deity, awash in an empyrean nirvana whose seraphic blissfulness Safiyah continued to rebelliously rebuke even once she was taken as the defiant throne upon which Gwendolyn's benevolent reign shimmered. Beforehand puppeteered into decorative compliance as a beauteous symbol of her own inadequacy and pathetic plaything quashed beneath the Imperial Rose, now basking underneath the luminous radiance of the evening stars with whatever chortled breaths of Safiyahs now wafted betwixt elysian thighs. Accompanied by the brazen mutterings of her heterochromatic adversary whose multicolored irises would become unified underneath the sublime derriere shuffled and settled onto her countenance with a hued breath taken from Safi's rebellious words watering her flower once more.

"Mmm~...Than you misinterpret my words entirely~...I bear no false allusions in regard to the immutable passage of time through which all thrones, crowns, and kingdoms crumple into earthen dust. However, beauteous splendor worthy of reverence and those passionate servantry who cower in subservience can become heralded within tomes forevermore. Otherwise, pitiable and defiant rabble may only be cast into the mired muck as befits them~..." Gwendolyn's pontification whispered towards the heavens with her ringletted hair cascading behind her, eyes closed to the sparkled starlight above as perspiration sheened from her opulent abundance. A kneading hand circling and stroking one of the Egyptians breasts with divine precision and immaculate grace, conspiring to erode the borders withholding Safiyah from embracing true subservience and abandoning her forked tongue for one honeyed with words of abject fealty and blind worship for the Imperial Goddess bestowing her sultry touch upon her~...