The Spoils of War

[BlackAkuma]

This was the fourth time Wendy had been knocked out today? Maybe the fifth. She honestly was having a hard time keeping track of it now, her sense of time utterly wrecked from the deprivation. She wasn’t even sure how long she’d been in this room now - god, it felt like a day, but maybe longer than that. No way of knowing, no way of guessing, and she was so, so hungry.

Wendy laid there, adrift in her muddy thoughts, under something hard and heavy came down on her chest, pounding it into the floor. Her eyes shot wide and the disorientation would’ve made her vomit if she had anything to spew in the first place, taken off guard by being upside.

Trampling. Lyssa was tramping her as she hung upside down, dangling like a piece of meat in the slaughterhouse. The woman wasn’t too heavy, but that ultimately didn’t matter too much - she was heavy enough to hurt, Wendy’s body couldn't take the abuse, and she had those hard boots to make it even worse.

”Fuck, fuck, stop, please!” Wendy cried out and shook her head as Lyssa danced a jig on her tits. ”I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, please!”

Wendy hated the sounds coming out of her mouth right now, but she wasn’t even in a position to control them anymore. She needed to survive, so she begged in the vain hope that it might stop the pain.

[hamish1024]

Lyssa’s laughter was manaical. This bitch had been the bane of her existence, ever since she and Storm had started at LAW. They’d had to tolerate Wendy’s ambushes, scornful tough talk and bullying demeanour for weeks. Now, though, her wannabe rival was reduced to wailing and begging, trussed up and helpless as the Southerner’s naked body got trampled and squished beneath Lyssa’s cruel boots.

The blue-haired Brit was revelling in her position of absolute dominance, but she also knew not to take things too far. She wanted Wendy conscious, not crippled, and she could sense that the painful ordeal was pushing her victim to the edge.

“Fine… I’ll stop,” Lyssa sighed, giving Wendy a final stomp, before skipping off the bound girl’s body.

“Though… I’m not sure you’ll have an easier time breathing, when I’m sitting on your face…” Lyssa leered, standing over Wendy’s head. She ran her hands down her hips and lifted her miniskirt a little, letting the white-haired woman have a good look at her assets. Lyssa’s pert butt sat atop her stockinged legs, clad only in the skimpiest of thongs, the same electric blue as her hair.

Avoiding the temptation to roughly butt-drop her foe, Lyssa lowered to her knees, facing Wendy’s legs, savouring this long-awaited situation.

“I know this goes without saying, but… absolutely no biting,” Lyssa chided, pulling the ball-gag back up into Wendy’s mouth, smirking at her protests before licking her lips, and swiftly shoving her backside down into Wendy’s upturned face.

Lyssa gave an ecstatic sigh of happiness as she sank into the reverse facesit, wiggling her rear to get nice and comfy in the smother. Rubbing her butt in Wendy’s hapless face was delightful; it felt like soaking in a hot bath after a tough day. She let her skirt hang down, framing her seat’s head, making the facesit that much darker and oppressive for her victim.

“How’s that facesit war working out for you, hmm?” Lyssa taunted, moaning happily at the feel of Wendy’s nose wedged up against the back of her thong.

Although her victim was doubtless struggling to breathe, Lyssa was far more interested in the sexual side of this smother hold. The little hellcat had abstained from humping her prey for far too long, and soon found herself feeling horny as fuck. She rearranged her position in the reverse facesit, allowing Wendy some air gaps, but also angling herself so that she could grind her scantily-clad pussy against Wendy’s face. Before long, Lyssa was hot, damp, and desperate to orgasm on her plaything’s face.

When she came, she came hard, clamping her thighs around Wendy’s head and gripping her tits as she pulsed with pleasure, riding out the high for as long as possible at the expense of her captive.

[BlackAkuma]

‘Please’. God, Wendy hated saying that word. It didn’t even sound right coming out of her mouth, like she was trying to speak French and fucking up the accent, but more than anything, she hated what saying it meant. ‘Please’ meant you needed something from someone that you couldn't get yourself. ‘Please’ meant you were under them. ‘Please’ meant you were beneath them, inferior, and she refused to be that anymore. Hadn't been in a long time.

And yet, here she was, trussed up, on the floor, while this fucking imp did a riverdance on her tits.

So it was a relief when the woman stopped and gave her some mercy - a small one, but she was more than willing to take it at this point. She sagged and seethed as her tormentress eased up, giving her the momentary freedom she’d craved.

And it was temporary, she knew that. She even had a better than good idea of what was coming next, before Lyssa even hinted at it. She was in the perfect position for a facesit, and Wendy would’ve done the same thing if their roles were reversed.

God. Such a sweet thought, that.

Sure enough, Lyssa dropped down for a sit on her face, thankfully not with a butt drop to lead into it, and Wendy found herself being smothered by the woman’s ass again, this time in the reverse, her pert cheeks spreading over her face. The gag was out, thankfully, so she didn’t have to deal with it getting rammed down her throat, but Lyssa’s humping more than made up for that in the torture department, as the woman used her face as a sex toy. Grinding, thrusting, gyrating, pounding her skull into the floor with every hump. The humiliation of it all would’ve been the worst thing, if Wendy wasn’t so far from caring about that at this point, her pride crushed somewhere in the past few hours of isolation.

Wendy didn’t use her teeth, but her tongue was fair game, and it slipped out without even thinking, no doubt driven on by the lack of oxygen, and slid along Lyssa’s pussy as she humped away, trying to hurry the process along. By the time the woman finished up, she was already starting to get lightheaded, dangerously close to passing again, and all she could do was meekly moan beneath her ass and feebly try to turn her head away, desperate for a single whiff of clean air.

[hamish1024]

Lyssa squirmed at the pleasant surprise of probing tongue, stimulating her already-wet sex. Ecstasy was quick to surge through her, gripping her body, forcing her to cry out in approval as Wendy rapidly brought her to orgasm.

The Brit savoured her hit of post-orgasmic joy, staying seated on her hapless victim, feeling superbly dominant as she literally rubbed Wendy’s nose in it. Eventually, though more ordered thoughts returned to the blissed-out blunette’s brain, as she realised she still had work to do.

She finally peeled her hot, barely-clad ass from Wendy’s face, and flopped to the side. Lyssa licked her lips thoughtfully as she sat on the floor, surveying her bound and beaten plaything. She didn’t exactly feel sorry for the Southerner – she’d gambled, and lost, badly – but Lyssa wasn’t delusional, and she recognised that luck had played a part in brining this formidable foe to heel. She leant forwards and patted Wendy on the cheek.

“I enjoyed that. I’m guessing you didn’t,” Lyssa smiled, testing the waters with the white-haired woman.

“I’m also guessing you’d rather avoid going through all that again? Since you’re not a total fucking idiot?”

Lyssa ran a hand along Wendy’s shoulder and bicep, showing a lot more care than she had previously.

“You’re better than this. I’ll keep using you as a punching bag if I have to, but it seems like a waste. I actually really respect you, you know.”

Lyssa chuckled to herself, realising that her sentiment probably sounded pretty hollow to the woman she had just subjected to an hours-long torture, trample, and face-fuck session.

“Okay, but seriously, I do. Listen, remember when Storm was still here, and I said you were missing something really important about all of this? I don’t blame you if you’ve forgotten, I think it was just before you got face-sat by Storm for like the hundredth time.”

“Anyway, the key thing you’re missing, is – I’m not filming any of this. And I totally should be, because an hours-long video of you suffering in this dungeon would be streaming gold. If that apartment ambush video was anything to go by, I could have put a camera in here and been fucking rich! But I didn’t, because I do respect you. You’re more than a subbie stooge. Did I make the right call? Should I have auctioned off your dignity to the highest bidder?”

Lyssa stared at her captive with interest, wondering if Wendy did at least appreciate that this could have gone worse for her.

[BlackAkuma]

This was far from the first time Wendy’s tongue had went to work on another woman, as Lyssaa would likely have guessed - if she still had enough wherewithal to form coherent thoughts, at least. Wendy didn’t have much a track record on the dating scene, but she did have the occasional relationship that made its way to the bedroom, and her partners never complained. They complained about other things, sure, but never that.

It wasn’t her proudest moment - eating this woman out so she could spend slightly less time getting facefucked - but Wendy was far past caring about pride at this point, and just wanted the ordeal over as soon as possible. In that regard, she had some success, bringing Lyssa to another rumbling climax on top of her, making the woman collapse in post-coital bliss. She sucked in deep lungful of air as her tormentress laid beside her, and shook her head to clear her eyes of Lyssa’s juices.

Heaving, gasping, she listened as Lyssa spoke - not like she had much choice in the matter. It was weird having her be so caring all of a sudden, and maybe just a little creepy, as if the woman was setting her up for some new torture, but a break was a break. Wendy would happily take the moment to catch her breath, whatever happened next.

Her eyebrow quirked up at the notion of ‘respect’ - she’d hate to see what this chick did to people she disrespected, fuck - but she otherwise kept quiet and let Lyssa cook. She did remember the comment about missing something, though it had somewhat faded into the background after all the torture and the dehydration and the starvation…

God. God, she was hungry, now, too. She hadn't noticed it before, too panicked to really register it, but now that she’d had some water and a chance to settle, the stomach aches were coming back in full force. Ugh.

She kept her focus, though, long enough to parse what Lyssa was saying. There was a point, there. Yeah, she could’ve recorded all of this and made a killing off it. Hacked the clips into thirty-minute chunks and put it online, make a whole store out of that footage, huge returns. Wendy had seen lucrative careers sprout from less.

Her jaw shifted for a moment, as she took the rare step of considering her words before she spoke. ”Let’s say you did. Okay.” Wendy rolled her neck around to get out of some of the kinks from having her face ridden so hard. ”What for? Like, what is this all about? What do you want from me?”

[hamish1024]

“Hmm, what do I want? Oh, good question!” Lyssa smiled. The brief, far-off look in her gleaming eyes belied the fact that Lyssa’s wants were often varied, voraciously ambitious, and very bad news for people on the wrong side of them. “Ooh, let me just get something from my bag,” she added breezily, not stopping to consider that this might seem somewhat ominous to a bound, beaten woman in the depths of this dungeon.

Wendy needn’t have worried, though. Lyssa returned with her smartphone in hand, albeit with no interest in making a recording.

“See, I actually love your ‘Backstage Bully’ bit. This place is full of fucking divas that deserve to get taken down a peg or two. You’ve totally got the right idea – keep them on their toes, prank them when they least expect it, and absolutely trash them if they’re dumb enough to let their guard down,” Lyssa explained, with relish.

“Bit embarrassing, but I’m such a fan, I’ve actually started doing it myself,” Lyssa added, holding up a video on her phone for Wendy to see.

It was only a brief excerpt, but the gist was clear enough; Lyssa having handcuffed a hapless blonde wrestler to a turnbuckle backstage, and making a show of stamping, shocking, and stinkfacing her.

“Streaming stuff like that works wonders, doesn’t it? Why bother faffing about in matches when you can have far more fun fucking people up backstage, right? Pays better, too!” she smirked.

“So, I know you probably hate my guts, but really, we’ve got a lot more in common than you think. This whole feud thing with Storm has gotten messy. We could go round and round, brainlessly butting heads, butts in each other’s faces over and over… but... I don’t want you like this,” Lyssa gestured vaguely at Wendy’s helpless, battered form. “I want you back at your best, looking for prissy bitches to pulverise.”

“Thing about bullying, though, is that it works better when you’re part of a gang. You’ve been doing the lone wolf thing up to now, which is cute, but true wolves should hunt as a pack. I mean fuck, you think me or Storm would have been half as successful at ambushing you if we hadn’t double-teamed ya? Kinda proves my point, doesn’t it?”

“So… what do you think? Can you trust me enough to be your spotter? Or sidekick? Even just a sounding-board for whatever evil shit you have planned? It’s got to be a little tempting, right?” Lyssa stroked Wendy’s thigh affectionately, eager to see if her sales pitch had any purchase.

[BlackAkuma]

So, this was getting weirder. Weirder.

Wendy, frankly, had no idea where this was going or how it was going to end, but she felt safe in saying that, whatever the case, it wouldn’t be on a happy note. Most likely, the bitch would just leave her here and wait for the janitors to find her, like she’d done with her big bitch best friend. Some part of her worried that she might try to take her home and keep her, but as kinky as that sort of thing sounded on paper, it was way too much of a hassle and they both knew it. Leave that for the fanfiction.

What she hadn't expected, though, was a business proposal. And yet, here she was, listening as this woman made her elevator pitch, keeping quiet and giving her an ear. The video made for an interesting little demonstration, one she would’ve liked to see a little more of, and it drilled the point home - the two of them had a few things in common. More than she would’ve liked to admit.

Predators, both of them, turning the backstage into their little playground. Lyssa was right about that much. Most of the fun Wendy had in LAW took place when the cameras weren’t watching, when she could get away with every little thing she wanted at her own pace. That was the great thing about wrestling, why she got into it in the first place. If she tried this sort of thing in any other sports, they’d suspend her at best or lock her up at worst. But with wrestling, off-screen drama was part of the package deal and appeal. That, they could agree on.

But having a ‘sidekick’? A partner? Especially one who’d just spent hours torturing her? That was a new concept. Wendy hadn't really made friends in a longtime, if ever. Not even partners. She liked it that way, suited her, but she would be lying if she said that mindset hadn't brought her problems. Sometimes the people she targeted had friends, and those friends helped her, and, well…this was a good example of how poorly that could go, wasn’t it?

Wendy chewed on her lip, mulling it over for a minute as Lyssa lazily stroked her thigh. She lifted her leg up, encouraging more of the soft touch, then side-eyed her potential partner. ’Let’s say I’m down for it. What about Storm? Guessing you ain’t ran this by her yet? She gonna be cool with us being buddy-buddy after all the shit we went through?”

[hamish1024]

Well, this was promising. Wendy hadn’t reacted with her usual angry, posturing bravado, and seemed to be giving some actual consideration to what Lyssa was saying. Lyssa hoped that this was because she had made some decent points (she might be a devious little gremlin, but she could also be a persuasive one), rather than a by-product of Wendy being handcuffed and leg-spread, and willing to say anything to escape.

Lyssa was fairly sure Wendy was taking her seriously, though. The white-haired woman had progressed from her previous, pleading state, and now seemed pleasantly responsive to Lyssa’s touch. What’s more, her point about Storm’s role in any collaboration was actually quite a sharp, attentive one.

“Oh, what about Storm? Well….” Lyssa began to ponder her answer. Truth was, forward planning and empathy weren’t exactly Lyssa’s forte, and she hadn’t really stopped to consider Storm, before Wendy had pointed out the obvious.

“Storm’s not a complicated woman, you know? You attacked her, she attacked you, fair’s fair, all sorted, yeah?” Lyssa chattered unconvincingly, aware her gift of the gab was deserting her a little. “I mean, she never actually came back here to dish out another round of torture, did she? She probably thinks you’ve suffered enough.”

“Look, honestly, we’re not like soul mates, or anything,” Lyssa continued, rubbing her brow. “Between you and me, I wasn’t even that bothered about you giving her the Backstage Bully treatment, at least until you fucked up her back – that was really inconvenient for our match scheduling, you know?”

“So anyway, I’m sure if we tell her to suck it up and get on with it, she will. The two of you powerhouses on the same side would be fucking phenomenal, if we can just put this little grudge thing behind us, right?”

Lyssa felt she was close to sealing some kind of deal, now, and her eagerness to work with Wendy’s sadistic side was really starting to show.

[BlackAkuma]

Lyssa was working her. Wendy might not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, she would admit that, but even she could tell when someone was trying to pull her strings. Not that she necessarily disapproved of it - hell, she used similar tactics when she could get away with them. While she was never going to just forget all the shit that had happened in this room and would definitely look to even that score at some point, she could put that off for a while if there was some benefit. That was looking like the case, here.

But then there was Storm. That was the big-assed fly in the ointment. The two of them had just gone to war, and while it felt like ages ago, now, it had only been half a day or so ago. It was pretty damned obvious that Lyssa hadn't ran this idea by her partner at any point, so…

”She didn’t come back here ‘cause she’s fuckin’ tired as fuck. I’m, like, 99% sure she ain’t the ‘bygones be bygones’ type. But if you say you got her under control, fine, okay.” It did seem like Lyssa was the brains behind the operation, anyway. And it would be funny to watch Storm chafe at the partnership.

Wendy was close, on the cusp of giving into the deal, genuine agreement and not just because she desperately wanted to get out of this position. But she wasn’t there yet, not just yet. She needed a push. A specific sort of push.

”All right, I’ll go for it. But, I want something to seal the deal. One thing.” Wendy sat up as best as she could, making sure she locked eyes with Lyssa to gauge her every reaction. She needed not to miss a beat. ”You got off. Storm got off. It’s my turn.” She thrusted her hips up, pressing against Lyssa’s wandering fingers for emphasis. ”Let met out, untie me, we fuck. First act of trust.”

About the best way she could think to gauge how serious Lyssa was about all this. Plus, fuck, could she use the relief.

[hamish1024]

Lyssa was an avaricious woman. She’d come from nothing, and that poverty stung. It shaped her worldview, always leaving her asking what she could get out of this, how could she get hers. Even now, on a relatively good LAW contract, supplemented with her after-hours sadism streams, she still had that hunger, that desire to always be spinning things her way.

The blue-haired brat wasn’t prone to analysing things, herself or otherwise, but she damn sure recognised that same kind of hunger in Wendy, staring right back up at her. Lyssa couldn’t help but grin.

“Tied up and tortured, but still not shy about making demands, hmm? Can’t say I blame you…” Lyssa purred . Wendy’s thrusting hips were a tempting target for Lyssa’s hands, and she let her fingers stray encouragingly close to the bound girl’s bare crotch.

“Haha, you’re okay. I wouldn’t drag you to a sex dungeon and not get you off – I’m not a monster,” she smiled. Lyssa drew back, pulling herself up to reach for Wendy’s raised ankles, and started to unfasten the binding on one side of the leg spreader.

“By the way, I don’t buy this ‘act of trust’ thing all that much – I know we aren’t gonna be best buds, braiding each other’s hair,” Lyssa began, keeping half an eye on Wendy to reassure herself that the white-haired woman wasn’t about to explode out of her bonds with yet more violence.

“I do trust you not to be a fucking idiot, though, and realise I’m a lot more useful to you as an ally.”

Lyssa gave Wendy’s thigh another teasing stroke, then moved to extract Wendy’s other ankle from the spreader.

“You able to kneel, hun? I think I left the handcuff key over here… Really hope I haven’t lost it…” she chuckled, turning her back to look for the precious key.