Submission sexfight
No striking
Climax leads to punishment round ft. Ivan
Match continues until one submits under punishment round.
The golden light streaming through the windows caught the shimmer of Ra's bikini as she emerged from the bathroom, her blonde hair still slightly damp and clinging to her shoulders. The fabric barely contained her curves - a deliberately provocative choice given what kind of match this was supposed to be. She stretched her arms above her head with feline grace, feeling the material strain against her body.
"Mmmm, finally ready," she purred, her voice carrying that familiar warmth even as her eyes tracked Ivan's movements around the small boxing ring he'd set up in the center of the apartment. The camera equipment looked professional - multiple angles, good lighting. She approved. "Someone's taking their job seriously."
IT WAS IN A LIE!!!
In truth, Mr. Q blackmailed Ivan of his paycheck for free labor, saving the midget pimp thousands in manual labor!!!
She walked closer to the ring, her hips swaying naturally with each step, feet bare against the cool floor. The apartment smelled faintly of disinfectant and sweat already - someone had clearly cleaned before setting everything up. Through the corner of her eye, she watched Ivan adjust another camera angle near one of the corners.
The memory surfaced unbidden, and Ra felt heat creep into her cheeks at the recollection. That first "audition" for Mr. Q's roster had been... intense, to say the least. She shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of how her body responded even now to the memory of Ivan's strength, his dominance in the private ring.
Momma did say to find a man stronger than Daddy...
The thought made her bite her lip, a small sound escaping - something between a huff and a laugh. She climbed into the ring, the ropes creaking softly beneath her weight as she settled onto her fours, watching him work.
"You remember our little... practice session?" she asked, her tone casual despite the knowing gleam in her eyes. There was no accusation there - just acknowledgment. Her fingers traced idle patterns on the canvas floor. "Mr. Q really knows how to test potential recruits, huh?"
She tilted her head, studying him properly now. Strong build, experienced hands moving with practiced efficiency as he adjusted the final camera. Everything about him screamed capable - whether in the ring or... elsewhere.
"Guess we're stuck working together again," she continued, stretching out on all fours like a cat warming in sunlight, her position deliberate and inviting. "Lucky you."
Ivan paused mid-adjustment on the final camera, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around the lens cap. His jaw clenched as Ra's words hung in the air between them - lucky you - dripping with that honey-sweet venom women seemed to specialize in.
Lucky. Right. Lucky to have his paycheck held hostage by that midget pimp Mr. Q. Lucky to be reduced to free labor after busting his ass in the underground for years. Lucky to have every hard-earned cent dangled just out of reach unless he performs like a trained dog.
His blue eyes flickered toward her - that golden bikini barely containing curves he remembered intimately from their previous encounter. The memory of that audition still played in his head sometimes during quiet moments, though he'd never admit it aloud.
He straightened slowly, rolling his broad shoulders as he met her gaze across the ring. "Mmhmm," was his noncommittal response, carrying neither agreement nor disagreement. Just acknowledgment.
"Don't worry 'bout me being lucky," he added after a beat, his voice low and rough-edged. "I'm real grateful for the opportunity." The sarcasm was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Ra's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile at Ivan's tone. She could hear the bitter edge underneath those carefully measured words - knew exactly what he wasn't saying about Mr. Q and that damn contract hanging over his head like a noose.
"Ohhh, I think you're very grateful," she murmured, rising to her feet in one fluid motion. The ring ropes bit into her thighs as she leaned forward, balancing herself effortlessly. "Question is... are you gonna stand there sulking all day? Or are we actually gonna put this thing to the test?"
She gestured to the empty ring around them, her movements languid and teasing. "C'mon, big guy. You know Spring Tiger ain't showing up for hours yet. Ring's here, cameras are set up..." Her tongue darted out to wet her lips unconsciously. "Wouldn't you want to make sure everything holds up? Test the sturdiness? See if these ropes can handle... pressure?"
There was a playful lilt to her voice, but also genuine curiosity. Her competitive nature wouldn't let her enter a proper sexfight without knowing the ring could withstand whatever they threw at it - especially if things got as heated as she hoped they would.
"So whatcha say? Wanna go a few rounds before the actual match starts?"
Ivan looked at her and then to the cameras setup around the ring. He shrugged, why the heck not.
A few inches later....
The world narrowed down to sensation - hot skin sliding against hers, the delicious stretch and burn as Ivan's massive cock slammed into her depths again and again. Her back arched off the canvas, breasts bouncing wildly as they threatened to spill free from the already-strained bikini top. Each impact sent ripples through her entire body, the thin strings holding on by sheer willpower.
"Nnh! Ahh! Yesss~!" Her voice escaped in breathless gasps, nails digging into his sweat-slicked shoulders as she tried desperately to maintain some semblance of composure. This was supposed to be a test - checking the ring's integrity - but fuck, who was she kidding?
Her inner walls clutched frantically at every brutal thrust, trying to milk him dry. The pressure building deep in her core was overwhelming, borderline painful in its intensity. Every time he bottomed out, she could feel him battering against her cervix, demanding entry to places she'd never allowed anyone else.
"Ivan! Oh god, I - mmph!"
The words died in her throat as another particularly violent thrust knocked the wind from her lungs. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, heels pressing into the small of his back, urging him deeper even as her mind tried futilely to remember why this was supposed to be professional.
Ivan's thrusts became more punishing as Ra's body responded to him like a instrument tuned just for him, her inner walls gripping him tighter with each slam of his hips. Sweat dripped from his forehead, falling onto her face and chest as he pounded into her relentlessly.
The ring creaked and groaned beneath them, the metal framework protesting the violent movement. Ivan's eyes flicked toward the sound, but he didn't slow down. If anything, hearing the structure strain added fuel to his already burning desire.
Creak. Groan.
The ropes strained visibly now, pulling taut as their bodies crashed together repeatedly. But the ring held firm, solid and sturdy despite the abuse. Good. At least the equipment was worth a damn, unlike his current employment situation.
"Hah! Hah!" His breathing came in short bursts, muscles tensing and flexing with each thrust. His hands gripped Ra's hips roughly, using them as handles to pull her onto him even harder. The sight of her tits bouncing with each impact was mesmerizing, and he couldn't help reaching up to grope one, squeezing it roughly.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he growled, his voice rough with need. "Better than I remember."
Despite his crude words, there was an element of genuine appreciation in his tone - like he was discovering a favorite meal all over again.
Ra's heart swelled stupidly at the genuine appreciation in Ivan's gruff voice, even as her body sang with the pleasure radiating from where they were joined. Her hands slid up to cradle his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones affectionately.
"You too~" she gasped out, her hips lifting to meet his next thrust eagerly. "So big and... ahhn~!"
But then - thunk. The sound of a door opening echoed through the apartment, followed by footsteps.
Spring Tiger arrived.
Well this is awkward...