Take Me to Church

[BlackAkuma]

Coconino High School, 11th Grade, Ms. Schnols’ theater class. Not a place Lucy had wanted to be initially. She’d never been super into theater before, and yet, somehow, she’d gotten dragged into it for one of her electives. After coasting by on Cs for most of the year, her then-girlfriend convinced her to try out for Death of a Salesman, the most depressing play she’d ever seen. She wound up getting the role of ‘the Woman’. The main character’s mistress. Or something.

She didn’t remember much about it, but she recalled it being fun. More fun than she would’ve expected. It was a small role, but there was a certain magic to be in front of the audience and having all those eyes on you. She felt it then, she felt it in her music videos, and she felt it now, as she prepared to engage in sensual combat with this living avatar of eroticism. It would all be a bit much for Lucy, but she wasn’t Lucy at the moment, was she? Not that Lucy. This Lucy was more confident. Maybe a little overwhelmed, as anyone would be confronting a goddess in her domain. But brave. Adventurous. Aggressive, if need be. This Lucy could handle it.

She watched with rapt attention as Neith made her way around the room, moving with a hypnotic grace, as if every step was meant to thrill and entice, drawing her in with unspoken temptations. Certainly more for the camera than her, but she was still having an effect, especially when she took her spot at the edge of the bed and dared her to attack.

Lucy’s first impulse was to rush in, but she quashed that - too soon, too sudden. She made her way onto the bed, moving on all fours, a gazelle in the lion’s den. Timid, but not so much that she wasn’t going to move forward, not so slow that she took all day and wasted precious runtime. A healthy amount of caution, with her eyes never leaving Neith’s face for more than a moment.

She came around her opponent’s side, only a couple of feet away. Closer, closer, closer still…

Lucy came in all at once, pouncing on Neith from behind with open arms and legs. She wasn’t a wrestler by trade, but even she’d seen enough to know some basics, and it didn’t get much more basic than what she had in mind: She tried to wrap her arms around the woman’s neck and her legs around her waist, trying to capture her from behind. It was an earnest attempt, too - she wasn’t experienced enough with this sort of thing to fake it, and she doubted it would make much difference to someone with Neith’s skill and power, anyway.

[HotWheels]

Safiya? Restless. Rushed. Needing to move from point A to point B with the least resistance, traits crafted by the life she had lived and the requirements of a life filled with schedules and promises. Neith? Unnervingly patient. Calm. Capable of pushing the world out to milk the absolute most out of this exact moment. At times, Safiya was needed. At others, Neith. At the moment, Neith reigned, not one need to do anything more than bat her eyelashes as Lucy approached from behind.

Lucy might surprise her, certainly. What she lacked in thickness and intimate wrestling talent she might compensate for with scrappiness. Of course, harming Neith would only harm her in more ways than one, and the goddess thought her wise enough to avoid such foolishness. So Neith cared little for what offense came, remaining a presentation, a motionless subject of lust, until Lucy sprang on her. And, to her credit, it was a smart attack.

Neith did spring into action with the arms winding around her neck, both hands lifting to compete with them though she knew better than to think she could pull them off so easily. The legs around her waist? Those she ignored as the opening assault brought her tumbling back down onto the bed, on top of Lucy though the drummer had her all wrapped up. Or did she? Neith, lacking the flexibility to pull a maneuver too craftily but possessing all the grace and suddenness of instinct, tucked both legs and managed to get her feet up on the edge of the bed, forming something of a bridge where the weight of her shoulders pinned down Lucy's upper body and both of their asses were left in pretty, stacked display for the camera.

It eased some of the pressure on her neck and left Lucy almost dangling from her - and most importantly, left the camera to appreciate them. "Not bad," she complimented, her fingers subtly wriggling between her neck and Lucy's arms. "But can you... hold onto such a dangerous body... long enough?"

[BlackAkuma]

The closer Lucy got the more she was drawn into Neith’s aura. This palpable, powerful force around her that pulled you in like magnetism. It was hard - impossible to ignore, but she did her best to cope with it was as she came in, focusing enough to do what needed to be done.

Needless to say, though, that all changed the moment they made contact. Having watched her fight the boys, Lucy had her ideas of how it felt to brush up against Neith and what her body was like. She was no stranger to intimate contact, and while she wasn’t a supermodel by any stretch, she wasn’t in bad shape, and most of her lovers seemed pleased enough with what she brought to the table. She figured she wouldn’t be out of her depth.

Those expectations were shattered the moment she caught Neith and the woman threw herself back, bridging up and letting her body come down on top of Lucy. She wasn’t heavy by any objective definition of the word, but she was much more extensive than Lucy, at least fifty pounds. She didn't doubt that some of that was muscle, but it was also pleasing flesh, enveloping curves that engulfed the smaller woman. More than most guessed, Lucy had a wiry strength, but she could feel the power rumbling under Neith’s supple form, all the strength in her tempting body. She wasn’t the one in danger, here.

Lucy struggled underneath Nieth’s form - genuine one, too - but it wasn’t getting her much of anywhere, and her legs didn’t have the power to make anything real happen. She tried to power down with them and inflict some damage, but she got the sense that she was in mild discomfort at best. It didn't help that she really liked the feeling of Neith practically grinding into her lap, and her body seemed more interested in thrusting back, even if her mind was in the game.

”I think I’m doing a good job of holding onto you so far goddess.” She clamped tight and added a mocking tone. Not outright disrespectful, but a touch irreverent. Behavior for Neith to correct, something she could work with, a story to tell. ”Having trouble?”

[HotWheels]

Not the least convincing of threats. Neith might have to inquire later whether Lucy had any experience in... filming from this side of the lens. And while Neith might have opted for outright viciousness with anyone who tightened up any on her neck and threatened her with her mortal enemy, pain, she had just enough wiggle room that her tensing proved convincing but not a sign that Lucy would momentarily find herself unconscious from the retaliation. Good, good. This felt like a scene already - perhaps not the best for teaching as of yet, but the makings of a worthy plot for a horny viewer to follow.

"On the contrary," she groaned back, with infuriating calm despite what many wrestlers would have seen as a dire situation. All part of the play, the show. "I find you comfortable. Like a throne." A bit of foreshadowing for both "client" and audience. "One I am... soon to prepare for myself." As she spoke the words, devilishly slowly, she found more purchase with her feet against the side of the bed, lifted her hips a touch, steadied herself.

She slammed down with all the weight in her broad rear, using the shifting plane of the bed to ensure she struck Lucy in her hips, crotch, all the places that would trigger any number of sensations. Almost as quickly as she had landed, she wrenched forward, pushing off with her hands on the edge of the mattress to spring herself free and rise to her feet at the side of the bed. Contortion? She didn't need it. She had cleverness. Momentum. And a chance to throw herself backward again, this time hoping to land butt-first on Lucy's stomach.

[BlackAkuma]

Neith found her comfortable? Sheesh. It took real effort for Lucy not to laugh at that. She’d never thought herself super kinky, nothing more adventurous than ropes and candle wax now and then, back when 50 Shades of Grey was popular and just about everyone was giving it a try. But less than a minute in, she was already reevaluating her bedroom preferences. It wasn’t just the feel of Neith’s body against her own - though, god, did that feel good. But what made the whole thing work was that voice. Hypnotic, erotic, neurotic. Every time the goddess spoke, the vibrations traveled through her body, setting Lucy’s nerves aflame. You wanted to please a voice like that. You needed to.

The haze of it all was enough to drag Lucy’s mind away, and when it came back, it was already too late - Neith lifted and brought those swarthy hips crashing down on her lap, hammering her with softness. The moaning groan that came out was embellished for effect, but not by much - while that did hurt and knock the wind out of her tiny frame, the grind against her most intimate parts struck like lightning, a burst of pleasure that left her shaking.

By the time she recovered, Neith was on the attack again, leaping up and landing on Lucy’s stomach to knock out what little wind she had left. The bed took away a good deal of the impact’s punch, but it was still far more than she was used to take, and the tiny drummer found herself writhing underneath the looming goddess’. She tried to push her way off, once for the show, then a genuine and authentic attempt, hoping to wriggle her way free before Neith could capitalize. She could feel the muscle underneath this woman’s curves, more than enough to hold a twig like herself down if she wished to.

[HotWheels]

And just like that, the tides had turned. Certainly, Neith could have used superior technique to escape. Powered her way free. Perhaps seduced Lucy into freeing her of her own accord. But she had learned the power of the shock factor, and it suited a goddess to merely snap her fingers and watch reality rewrite itself. Besides - what can could resist watching her topple another beautiful woman with nothing but two impacts from hips that most women would die to have and most men would pay all too well to touch?

And as such, she found herself sitting on Lucy's midriff, again looking over her shoulder. Rather than anticipation, danger now welled in her eyes, and while Lucy's efforts were true and not unwelcome, she utilized one of her simplest and most longstanding techniques, all the way back to her first months as a session wrestler when she had lacked the strength to simply overpower another woman, much less a man: she applied her weight to its fullest, her humps grinding down against Lucy's abs, her knees and calves wedged to the woman's side, her palms both pressing down on either side of Lucy's crotch. Utterly imperious.

"A goddess moves when she wishes," Neith told her, with a shake of her head to send her newly extended hair bouncing across her shoulders, cascading down her back. "Are you the one having trouble?" She scooted back without warning, cheeks landing just below Lucy's breasts. "Do you sense the danger?" One more scooch, now entirely atop her chest. She twisted a leg just enough for the camera to see.

"Do you know what comes next?"

[BlackAkuma]

Okay, seriously, Lucy could not move.

It was so crazy that she might’ve chalked it up to magic, if she were ever the type to believe in such things. She struggled underneath Neith, put up a good fight, did the best she could with her small body, but no matter how she twisted and tossed and writhed, the goddess kept her under control, showing a preternatural awareness of her body and everything connected to it. Lucy might as well have been bound down with rope.

But then, rope wouldn’t have felt this good to struggle against, would it? Rope wouldn’t grind against her abs, wouldn’t kept her trapped with thick legs, and wouldn’t have those hands at her hips, tantalizing close to something much wilder.

Closer. Neith was moving closer, shifting up her body, as if claiming more territory for her own. She was heavy, but only as heavy as she needed to be, enough to ensure Lucy’s compliance, making it harder to breath but far from impossible.

Closer still, on her chest now, pancaking what little chest she had.. Lucy breathed deep and took in all of Neith’s scents, a heavenly mixture of herbs and earthly scents that tickled her nostrils. More than anything, she smelled clean - the sort of clean you only achieved bathing more in a day than most did in a week. A good thing, too, considering what she suspected was about to happen.

Speaking of, how should she play it? Challenging? Dismissive? Worried? She went with the middle ground, not wanting to give the goddess full respect just yet, but throwing in a little fear under the voice, a slight stammer, whistling in the dark. ”I’m not-” She planted her legs and bridged up in a futile attempt to unseat Neith, only making her sink further into the cushion, as her face scrunched up with exertion. ”I’m not afraid of you. I’m not.”

Breathe deep, breathe deep, breathe deep.

[HotWheels]

Lucy was a giver. Neith could spot them in her line of work as easily as most session girls could spot a back pimple that needed attention before a shoot. Most of her clients were takers. It made sense; they paid for a service where they "took" plenty of punishment. Neith was giving to them, in a way, while taking the pay in return. She obviously had no problem with well-paying takers, but stumbling across a giver who knew how to take what Neith could give - so, so much - and give back to add to the appeal of the exchange or the scene was a rare treat. Lucy was giving her an apt performance. That sold hundreds more videos. That made both of them more money.

It was obvious what she teased, and Lucy was no fool, either. As she remained wedged tightly to the woman's chest, she peered away for effect. Wriggled her rear enough to jostle the smaller woman's entire body. Stretched as if she were unconcerned. "I have to decide what's more attractive," she began. "The bravery or the foolishness. But... you are right. You have nothing to fear from me. I bring pleasure and passion. The pain is a part of that blessing."

Tease it out; Neith wanted to maintain this in-character waltz a bit longer. Lucy was keen, so why make this simply another video, passing from one devastating hold to the next? They had the means to make this a unique addition to her already impressive library.

Rather than scooting backward for the smothering finish, she folded her legs more tightly. Both of her feet swung back, and she rested them on top of Lucy's face. She leaned back, adding that bit of danger as both dorsal halves of her feet and her toes pressed down, but it was meager compared to what had been teased. Self-satisfied, she peered back over her shoulder.

"Kiss those. See? Pleasure and passion. Nothing to fear."

[BlackAkuma]

Neith wasn’t the easiest woman to get a read on - not that Lucy was ever all that good at doing so in the first place. While she wasn’t as bad at reading women as, say, Willy, she still wound up with far more hits and misses, often putting off potential suitors when her attitude got in the way. That sort of thing had bothered her when she first hit the dating scene, but these days, she was content just to cast her net and see what she wound up catching. If she found someone who could put up with her or, better yet, liked the spice, good. If not, well, screw it.

All that to say, it had been a while since she’d put real effort into impressing another woman, and Neith was a challenging person to try it on. She got the sense that the goddess act was just that, but it was difficult to tell by how much. How far under the surface was the real Nieth? How would she take a little challenge? What were the right buttons to push?

Lucy took a little gamble, and was rewarded—this time.

The goddess didn’t bring her hammer down, keeping things light for the time being, not the least bit concerned by the mere mortal beneath her heavenly body. At first, Lucy thought she was in for a facesitting - a new experience, but one she was interesting in trying - but instead she found herself with feet pressed against her face.

Flashback. Three years ago, one of her first partners. A little bit on the kinky side, nothing too wild, but did she ever have a thing for having her toes sucked. Lucy would’ve been fine with at least trying it, if she kept said feet in decent condition. She did not. She spent a lot of time on her feet at her job, and well…it showed. After a couple of attempts, Lucy had shut the idea down. It wasn’t the main reason their relationship fell apart, but it was a reason, and she figured the experience would turn her off from anything like it ever again.

She was wrong.

It likely helped that her feet were immaculate like every other inch of the woman. Impossibly clean and pristine, practically shimmering in the dull light, and presented with words that held the slightest hint of malice. The sweetest demand Lucy had ever heard. How was she supposed to resist?

Instead of going in hard and spoiling the moment, she figured the best bet was to build to it like good music, starting light and working her way up. One kiss, a little shy. Then another with more gusto. Again, as she got the taste for it, followed by a quick lick. Once more, sucking on the little toe.

With every second, with every touch, Lucy enjoyed it more and more, even bringing her hands up to give the feet a soft caress. She lost herself in the act, closing her eyes and focusing on the taste, as her body began to squirm without any instructions. Getting hot. Getting real hot.

[HotWheels]

Neith watched with a gaze that was equal parts encouraging mentor and intimidating overlord as Lucy began. She did not, of course, know how her "partner" in this video cared for this particular act, but in her mind, no one could resist any part of her no matter their inclinations. And the woman was settling into the act with enthusiasm all her own, enough that Neith sighed in satisfaction as her feet warmed and relaxed from the contact. Lucy's hands became involved, and Neith let her gaze wander ahead, briefly glancing at the camera with a look of pleasure that could have driven kings from their thrones before she whipped her hair once more and rested on her elbows, her chin nearly on Lucy's stomach. She would invite the woman to show some of her ability to... "resist" again, but she would likely need a hint.

"You've lost that ferocity, I see," she commented. "You're already intoxicated in my presence. And all you've truly been able to adore is my feet. How pathetically sweet." While she spoke, her hands brushed over Lucy's thighs, and she glanced back at the woman long enough to make eye contact, to beckon her. At the same time, the brush of her thighs turned into a small tug, a small sign that Lucy should lift them and use them. That she had permission... for the sake of the video, of course. It was not often she had someone only interested in the cinema of the scene. She would make use of it.

Her message sent, she dipped again, this time with her face clearly in position for Lucy to "capture" it. "A great deal of wisdom tells me you would not resist even if I gave you the chance..." Along with the verbal cue, she stretched her legs out so she would be more comfortable, acting as if she planned to scissor Lucy's head herself.