The Book of Lucia, Chapter III - Sister Lucia (c) vs. Madeline Christiansen for the LAW Hentai Championshp

[BlackAkuma]

Sister Lucia was starting to truly loathe this woman. Granted, there was no world in which Madelin - an unashamed heathen, a proud temptress, a seducer of wayward souls - would be friends with one such as her. But she suspected that, even if she had not been chosen for this divine task, and the English Rose hadn't stood athwart her path, she would’ve still found the whore detestible.

It was those eyes. Yes, she hated so many things about the woman, with her haughty attitude and her purile japes, but something about those eyes was positively infuriating. The way they drew attention demanded it. The way they looked her with not a shred of seriousness. That mocking glare, that condescending gaze.

It was all much too much for Sister Lucia, and as she writhed beneath the larger woman, she wished for nothing less than to shut those eyes and smash the face they were attached. Sadly, such goals were currently out of reach.

”A reaction of the body, nothing more.” She scoffed at Madeline’s accusation, dismissing her as she once again mounted her. [color=#80000BF]”I merely…wait.”[/color] She shook her head as the woman’s chest began to descend upon her face. ”No, no, no, not again, not-”

Again, Sister Lucia found her face between Madeline’s breasts, though this time she was at least able to breathe. Consciousness was a mixed blessing, as it meant that she had to endure this woman’s acrid scent in her nostrils and see those eyes - those damned eyes - gazing down at her.

She tried to struggle, but Madeline had strength, size, and leverage on her side, using them all to keep Sister Lucia’s hands pinned as surely as if they were iron manacles. It was infuriating enough all by itself.

But then…then came the grinding.

A shudder ran through Sister Lucia at the first press, an involuntary motion, a betrayal from her body. It was slow at first, so small it could’ve been dismissed as accidental if not for the woman’s nature. But then came another, and another. Without even thinking, her own hips rose to meet it, seeking out pleasure without her leave.

Sister Lucia closed her eyes and tried to blot out the pleasure, tried to shield her mind from this woman’s wicked spells, but it was an increasingly futile gesture. With no escape, no reprieve, she found herself at the challenger’s mercy, and all she could do was defiantly resist what they both knew was coming.

From within the confines of Madeline’s chest, Sister Lucia screamed in pure rage.

[Lightman]

“Shhhhh.”

Madeline silenced Lucia mid-protest simply by lowering herself that little bit further, soft flesh pressing over the nun’s mouth once again and reducing the rest of her indignation to muffled frustration. The brunette rather liked the sight beneath her. Lucia’s face remained partially visible between the curves of her chest, just enough for those fierce blue eyes to peer outward with equal parts outrage and something far less righteous. There it was again, beneath all the fury. That flicker. That dangerous warmth the blonde kept trying so desperately to bury beneath scripture and insults.

Cute, in its own way.

Madeline could even see the moments Lucia attempted to shut her eyes entirely, as though darkness might somehow spare her from what her own body was beginning to admit. It would not. Both of them understood that much already. One did not arch beneath another woman’s thigh from mere biological reflex alone. Not like this. Not with such an instinctive hunger threaded through the movement.

The Englishwoman continued at an unhurried pace. Her thigh glided steadily between Lucia’s legs, bare skin brushing and pressing with measured precision against the trapped blonde’s centre. There was patience in the motion. Deliberate consistency. Madeline knew perfectly well how the body responded to repetition, to mounting anticipation, to the slow erosion of resistance through sensation rather than force.

Sure enough, Lucia’s hips betrayed her soon after. The first hesitant rise earned a quiet gleam from Madeline’s emerald eyes. The second made her smile. “There. That is honesty.”

Her wrists remained pinned securely overhead while Madeline shifted her weight just enough to keep the champion firmly trapped beneath her. Every adjustment came naturally to the brunette. Tiny redistributions of pressure prevented Lucia from finding leverage anywhere beneath her body. The woman could struggle all she wished. Madeline controlled the centre line entirely now.

Another muffled scream reached her chest. Madeline answered it with a low hush near Lucia’s ear, her lips barely grazing warm skin as she leaned down further. “You fight this harder than you fight the match itself.” She whispered. “Interesting priorities for a champion.”

The thigh between Lucia’s legs picked up slightly in pace afterwards. Not enough to become frantic. Just enough for the change to feel undeniable. Each pass dragged firmer than before, teasing more insistently against the blonde’s rising reactions while Madeline calmly observed every tiny betrayal crossing Lucia’s body.

“How you speak endlessly about corruption…” Madeline continued, voice smooth as silk. “About temptation. About sinners and falsehoods.” A faint breath of amusement escaped her. “Yet the moment your body is honest, you treat it like an enemy.” Her fingers tightened lightly around Lucia’s wrists. “Perhaps that is why you are…struggling to perform tonight. You are too busy pretending to be above desire instead of understanding it.”

Lucia’s hips rose again despite herself. Madeline felt it immediately. A satisfied hum slipped from the brunette as she lowered her head once more, allowing her voice to settle intimately beside the nun’s ear while the crowd noise blurred into distant static around them. “No one else needs to know.” The English Rose said quietly. “You may taste them if you like. Lick to your heart’s content. Feel free to enjoy. Just between us.”

Her smile deepened against Lucia’s skin. “I promise not to tell your congregation.”

[BlackAkuma]

The longer this went on, the harder Madeline was to resist, as Sister Lucia found herself sinking into the woman’s miasma. Her nose being free to breathe was the worst part, she decided. Aside from it meaning that she couldn't feign unconsciousness again, it almost meant that she had to inhale every scent this whore sent her way, drowning herself in her foe’s fumes. There was something about her natural perfume that made her fine hairs stand at attention, the sweat, mixed with the subtle hints of roses…

No, no, that was only in her imagination. But that was how the Devil worked, was it not? Taking roots in fantasies, watering them like weeds in a garden, until they were impossible to strip away. Even now, as she shut her eyes tight, such filthy images worked their way into her mind, such degrading notions, that they set the stomach to turn and ground her teeth tight together.

And this heat! This infernal heat!

It was infuriating, even more so with Madelin whispering her vile poisons. It was not simply the words she spoke but the hubris behind them, as if she had no single concern in the world, as if she regarded Sister Lucia as no true threat, no true champion. Dismissive, disrespectful, she longed to make the slattern regret those words. If only she could get up, if only she could fight, if only-

Another moan came out as Madeline’s thigh rubbed against her sweltering sex, sending lightning through her spine. Sister Lucia’s brow furrowed as this succubus tempted her and made offerings, as if she could be made to give into such carnal cravings. Defiant, she shook her head, as much as she could within the confines. She would not surrender, she would not so easily bend.

But then her tongue came out. A quick, teasing lick, followed by another. Sister Lucia’s eyes widened as the foul muscle moved of its own accord, disobeying her commands and tasting of Madeline’s flesh. It slipped along the skin, circled around it, even made its way beneath the fabric to the tender center beneath. Her lips were moving, too, kissing at the flesh, suckling it, even nibbling.

It was as if some dread hand was working her body, a puppet on invisible strings. Surely, this was an assault from the foulest pit, making Sister Lucia partake of the flesh that she certainly wanted no part of. Sister Lucia moaned - a moan of desperation, not of lust, clearly - as her body moved of its own accord, forcing her to fill on the woman’s offerings. An indulgence beyond her control.

Powerless to stop it, she did her best to keep her mind clear as the pleasure threatened to consume her like flames in the grass, rapidly spreading and leaving ruin in their wake. Through it all, she focused and kept a calm center - Satan may have taken temporary dominion over her body, but so long as her mind remained pure, she would not be tainted, even as she felt the warmth growing between her legs.