Throes of Passion: Madeline Christiansen vs Cleo Hulbury

[Bare]

Bam.

Landing a massive, clean rising kick straight to Madeline's jaw. A blow that clearly sent the woman reeling and knocked backwards clear off of her feet and down to the mat in a spread eagle position. Lowering her leg back to the mat Cleo would then smirk down at her rival, now finally feeling a measure of control in this match and she was intent on making the most of it.

Reaching down to grab Madeline by the ankles and lifting them up Cleo would then raise her leg back up before placing her heel down on Madeline's groin, not hard enough to cause pain just yet, but to make Madeline aware that it was there.

As she did so Cleo would then cross the legs of Madeline around her own before falling back, aiming to lock her opponent in a figure four leg lock while simultaneously starting to systematically press and grind her heel into her opponent's groin, pleasuring her in that way while inflicting agony with the submission hold all at once!

[Lightman]

The world snapped white for a heartbeat as the kick connected, the brutal impact to her jaw ringing through her skull. The mat rushed up beneath her, and she hit hard, body sprawled wide, the taste of copper blooming fresh on her tongue. Her chest rose and fell in short bursts as she blinked against the daze, vision fragmenting before settling back on the figure above her. Cleo’s smirk cut through the haze, the sight of it stirring something sharp in Madeline’s chest, a blend of irritation and begrudging admiration. For the first time in the match, Cleo had knocked the English Rose flat.

The sudden pressure at her ankles snapped her focus back into place, instinct bristling before reason could catch up. Cleo’s grip was firm, deliberate, each movement designed to claim control. Madeline felt her legs lifted, her core tensing as the heel pressed down against her groin. Not quite pain, not quite pleasure either. But a promise of it. Her body jerked subtly, the involuntary reaction betraying her, and a faint, strained laugh slipped from her lips despite herself. “Straight for the crown jewels, I see…” she rasped, her tone thin but still teasing through the ache in her jaw.

When the figure-four was locked in, the pain hit like fire, slicing up her leg and through her hips. Madeline’s teeth clenched, the conflicting sensations of pressure and unwanted pleasure tangling into a dizzying knot that forced a low groan from her throat. Cleo’s heel ground against her again, cruelly precise, and her muscles burned with effort as she fought to twist her hips and alleviate the hold. “Nnnh…how cruel…” she hissed between shallow breaths, her fingers clawing at the canvas for leverage. Sweat slicked her temple, her composure tested but not yet shattered, as her mind already began searching for the angle she needed to turn the trap against its maker.

[Bare]

Moving to lock in the figure four and dropping down to the mat to have it locked in fully Cleo would smirk viciously as she saw Madeline's reaction. Clearly she was feeling the pressure of the hold, as well as the hard force Cleo was putting on Madeline's groin, trying to send shock waves of pleasure and agony through Madeline's system. All to a point that Madeline was barely able to comment on the state of things to try and maintain her facade of being calm and collected but Cleo would do her damnedest to break that composure.

"Hehe, cruelty is something I excel at." Cleo purred out to her caught opponent, adding an additional twist of her heel to add a particularly sharp sensation to what the girl was feeling. "I'll make you mine!" Cleo said gleefully as she then pushed her hands against the mat and hefted her hips up while lifting her legs along with Madeline's into the air... All before dropping them down to slam Madeline's legs and hips into the mat for a extra shock of pain which would also force her foot deeper into Madeline's pussy!

Upon doing so Cleo would lean back, lifting her hips up again before dropping back down to repeat the same move! Something Cleo would aim to do a total of three more times for five drops to the woman to really set things in and inflict as much pain and bliss as possible! If that didn't work however... Then Cleo wold lift her hips up once more but this time keep them up while bridging her back to try and go into a figure eight submission hold!

[Lightman]

The pain and pleasure merged into something molten as Cleo’s hold tightened, her cruel precision radiating through Madeline’s legs and core. The pressure of the figure-four was punishing, the strain on her knees and hips flaring bright, but it was the grinding of Cleo’s heel that truly broke through her control. Each movement sent tremors through her, her muscles tightening involuntarily as she fought to keep her composure. Her jaw clenched, her nails scraped faintly against the mat, and her breaths came shallow and uneven. “Oh, such talent…” she managed to breathe, her tone thin but defiant, though her body betrayed her in shivers.

The sudden jolt of impact as Cleo lifted and slammed their locked legs sent a sharp cry from Madeline’s lips before she could swallow it down. The shock pulsed through her hips and spine, the cruel heel pressing deeper, the dual sensations colliding until her vision sparked white for a fleeting second. The second and third drops followed mercilessly, each one drawing out a harsher gasp as Madeline’s body arched against her will. By the fourth, her control was faltering, her body glistening with sweat, her composure cracking under the relentless rhythm. “Damn… you…” She hissed between clenched teeth, the faintest curl of a smile still ghosting her lips.

When Cleo lifted her hips once more and bridged into the figure-eight, the pain sharpened to near unbearable levels. "Ahhh!" Madeline’s breath hitched, her legs screaming from the pressure, yet her mind cut through the haze with trained instinct. Her fingers clawed for the mat, twisting her upper body just slightly to change the angle of the torque. “You want to…make me yours?” She rasped, voice hoarse but edged with quiet menace. “Then…you should have finished me already...”

[Bare]

Cleo was relishing every moment of dominance she had over her opponent in this moment, savoring every lift and then drop of her and her opponent's legs to the mat to inflict as much pain and pleasure on Madeline as possible. "Talent that will make you beg for mercy!" Cleo hissed with a diabolical smile on her face. What really got Cleo going however was hearing her opponent actually curse at Cleo, potentially the first time in this match making Cleo grin and chuckle as then bridge high for a figure eight submission.

However while holding their hips high up to inflict pain on her opponent while also digging her heel deeper into the woman's pussy was exceptionally fun to do, Cleo noticed one important thing. Madeline was not nearing her limit yet. Yeah Madeline was screaming in pain and thrashing about but it wasn't enough, Cleo needed more to win this and even the score between them.

As if reading her mind Madeline began to shift and manipulate in Cleo's grip, shifting her body slightly to change the angle of Cleo's hold. Accompanied by the words of her opponent practically mocking Cleo for not finishing her yet. Something that made Cleo growl in frustration. "Fine then." Cleo hissed as she brought their legs down suddenly, untangling their legs in the process as she did so.

Sitting up suddenly Cleo would then reach over to grab hold of Madeline's legs, continuing to make those her target as she stood up. Raising her leg up as she did so Cleo would bring her heel down mercilessly on Madeline's pussy and as she did she would start rocking back forth, lightly grinding her appendage on her opponent's groin, aiming to pleasure her into an orgasm with a foot job, all while holding the woman's legs by the ankles to prevent her from fighting back!

[Lightman]

Every drop of Cleo’s hips sent another bolt of searing pressure through Madeline’s body, the rhythm punishing, the force behind it almost vindictive in its precision. Her limbs trembled beneath the strain, her breath breaking into low, guttural gasps as each impact spread through her thighs and into her core. Pain rippled outward, meeting waves of unwilling pleasure until her body was caught in a twisted balance between the two. The taunting hiss of Cleo’s voice reached her ears, each word sharpening the humiliation that came with being bent and used as a display of dominance. “Mercy?” She breathed through her teeth, voice low and ragged. “You will not hear that word from me.”

The moment Cleo bridged into the figure-eight, the pressure twisted into something monstrous. Madeline’s spine curved taut, her legs screaming as the angle locked. Yet through the agony, clarity crept in. The more Cleo pushed, the more control she took of her own rhythm. That control was a weakness, one Madeline felt in the tightening of Cleo’s muscles against hers, in the faint tremor of effort it took to hold the bridge steady. Her instincts surged beneath the pain, honed from years of combat where composure meant survival. She shifted minutely, body rolling against the grain of the hold, her eyes flicking up toward Cleo with a faint, cold smirk. “You call…that finishing?” she grunted, every word dragging between shallow breaths.

Her goading struck home. Cleo’s reaction was immediate and sharp, releasing the figure-four with an audible growl and dropping their legs to the mat. The jolt of impact drew a choked cry from Madeline, her nerves flaring in protest as the hold broke apart. The relief was brief and harsh; her legs twitching involuntarily as blood rushed back through the strained muscles. She had bought herself a breath of freedom, but Cleo was not finished. The moment Madeline tried to roll her hips away, her opponent’s hands caught her by the ankles, dragging her legs back beneath her with cruel precision.

The heel came down like a hammer, a cruel mix of pain and pleasure radiating outward as Cleo ground her foot against Madeline’s sex. Her breath hitched sharply, her head tipping back as her fingers clawed at the mat for purchase. The friction was maddening, every movement of Cleo’s foot measured and deliberate, every grind tearing at the edges of her composure. Madeline gasped, voice caught somewhere between a growl and a moan. Beneath the haze of sensation, her mind was already recalculating, every nerve in her body screaming for air, for an opening.

[Bare]

Cleo growled as she forcefully dropped her submission on Madeline, having realized that it was not going to be enough on it's own to make the woman caught in it submit nor orgasm. As such she needed a new plan, and dropping the hold in such a way that her opponent cried out in pain was exactly what Cleo needed as she then reached out, grabbing at her opponent's ankles and once again extending her leg out to drive her heel into Madeline's groin to forcefully stimulate her in the most painful way possible while still bringing the brunette into a orgasmic state. "Fine then. I offered you a way out but fucking you until you're spent sounds just fine to me!" Cleo snapped out as she continued to gas pedal Madeline's pussy with an aggressive but timed tempo, aiming to push Madeline to her breaking point and even past it, determined to make the woman orgasm complete and humiliate her in as resounding a way as possible!

[Lightman]

With a menacing growl that filled the air, Cleo abandoned the hold with brutal power, bringing all her weight down on Madeline. A shock went through Madeline’s body, causing a burning pain that spread across her back, as the mat muffled the sound of the impact, sweat stung her eyes, and the taste of physical effort filled her mouth. Her scream was involuntary, a raw and desperate echo in the close space; pain hit her hard, leaving her dazed and vulnerable, with the cool air against her flushed, wet skin as pleasure enveloped her like a thick mist. Before she could draw a ragged breath to steady herself, Cleo’s fingers clamped around her ankles with iron-like firmness, the rough calluses scraping against her flesh as her legs were wrenched apart, and Cleo thrust her own leg forward, her heel plunging into the sensitive folds of Madeline’s groin with a brutal, unyielding force that merged excruciating pressure with an insidious throb of arousal, the scent of musk and sweat mingling thickly in the humid atmosphere.

Through the confusing fog, Cleo’s words cut, her voice dripping with venom and a slight breathlessness, as she declared that Madeline, having rejected her previous kindness, would now be brought to complete ruin through constant torment. Her heel pressed relentlessly forward, the steady pounding against Madeline’s pussy resembling the persistent revving of an engine, each purposeful thrust creating a mix of slick friction and sharp sensations that grew faster, the warmth from their bodies heightening the charged silence, interrupted only by Madeline’s shallow breaths and the wet, rhythmic sounds of skin meeting skin. Conflicting waves of sensation engulfed Madeline, the sting of torment weaving through rising tides of involuntary pleasure, her breaths coming in hitched whimpers laced with the salty tang of sweat on her lips, her hips bucking uncontrollably as the pressure coiled tighter within her core until it shattered in a blinding crescendo, her body convulsing in a powerful, humiliating orgasm that rippled through her trembling frame, leaving her spent and quivering in a pool of her own release as Cleo’s triumphant gaze bore down upon her.

[Bare]

Cleo was so close right now, precisely because she knew Madeline was close to bursting in an orgasm and after the humiliation from earlier at being the first to do so at her foe's hands Cleo was practically foaming at the mouth to get vengeance. It was why she was so quick to change strategies and tactics against her opponent, not letting Madeline get too used to one position for long and risk her getting free as a result.

Now after making her declaration to break the beautiful brunette Cleo would make good on it as she stood up, holding Madeline's legs by the ankles and quite literally taking a step onto the woman with a foot planted on her groin and starting to rub and grind it against her, pleasuring Madeline with aggressive skill, not wanting to make her feel good but to make her cum above all and going by the sounds Madeline was releasing as a result then progress was being made, but Cleo needed more, she needed to break this woman below her.

Thankfully however that absolution would finally come as Cleo felt warm liquid seeping onto her bare sole as Madeline finally suffered an orgasm, shuddering violently as her juices drenched Cleo's foot. "Hah... Finally. Fuck that felt good didn't it?" She asked mockingly as she lifted her heel off Madeline's groin and glided it over her foe's body until it hovered over Madeline's face, at which point Coe would drop her foot down, pressing her cum soaked foot on Madeline's face. "Have a taste of yourself why don't you?" Cleo asked mockingly, grinding her heel in before lifting her leg up again before dropping down more violently for a quick stomp onto Madeline's face before pulling back and going to kick the woman in the ribs while she was down!

[Lightman]

Madeline was held in a state of precarious suspension, her ankles gripped with a firm, bruising intensity that signalled a total shift in her opponent’s strategy, one born of a desperate need for retribution. The air was thick with the scent of exertion and the looming threat of a total psychological break as a foot was planted squarely upon her groin. It was a heavy, intrusive presence that began to rub and grind with a savage, timed tempo, bypassing any hint of tenderness in favour of a purely clinical extraction of sensation. She fought to maintain her composure, yet the aggressive friction undermined her defences with terrifying efficiency, driving her toward a peak she was no longer able to resist. A sudden, visceral shuddering took hold of her frame as she finally reached the point of no return, the warmth of her own release drenching the sole that had so ruthlessly demanded it.

The exhaustion that followed was a heavy shroud, yet it offered no protection against the chilling sensation of the damp foot gliding upwards across her skin like a predator’s mark. Madeline’s breath caught as the moisture-slicked heel was pressed firmly against her face, forcing her to endure the salt-tinged reality of her own undoing while mocking words rang in her ears. The grinding weight against her features was a deliberate act of debasement, one that was punctuated by a jarring, violent stomp that sent a shockwave of pain through her skull and rattled her very teeth. Before she could even begin to regain her bearings, a heavy kick drove into her ribs, the impact sharp enough to drive the air from her lungs and leave her gasping against the mat. Even as the ache bloomed through her torso and her vision swam, the stubborn core of her resilience remained, flickering beneath the surface of her physical exhaustion.