Take Me to Church

[BlackAkuma]

Could Lucy fight back a little more? Probably. Should she? Probably. But it was an easy thing to forget when you had a body like this draped across you. As much as she wanted - and would continue - to make fun of Willy for falling under her spell, she was starting to get a better idea of the magic he’d went through. Neith was just intoxicating - her words, her touch, her style consumed you, and as much as Lucy wanted to play it off, she was suffering the effects. If ‘suffering’ was even the right word.

Thankfully, Neith had more than enough experience for them both. Lucy managed to listen to the woman’s words and not just indulge in the tone. She kept on licking, enjoying the taste, but she wasn’t so far gone that she couldn't pick up on the clues being dropped. They had a job to do, and while Lucy doubted she would hate what those thighs were getting in position yet, they were a treat she hadn't earned yet.

Neith wanted competition. Competition she would get.

Lucy waited until the last second, the last second, just when it looked like Neith’s thighs might engulf her skull, and sprang into action, snapping up with her legs and wrapping them around the Egyptian’s heads in a…reverse scissorhold? She wasn’t entirely clear on the name, but it put them in a 69ish position with Neith facing her ass.

She clenched the hold tight, putting as much force into the move as she could muster - which likely wasn’t saying too much. She couldn't imagine it was a pleasant sensation, she had the legs of a woman who regularly ran and stayed in shape, but nothing spectacular, damn sure not close to Neith’s level. She figured the woman could take her best.

At the same time, she had the presence of mind to try and slip out out from under Neith’s body and roll them to the side, all while she let out an exhilarated gasp, as if she’d just pulled off the counter of the century. ”There!” She was supposed to clasp her ankles, right? Yeah, should do that. ”How’s that for ‘ferocity’, huh?”

Just the right amount of punk-flavored cockiness. Came naturally.

[HotWheels]

Often, Neith's business sense stood in stark opposition to her pride. She could recognize the desire for people to see a beauty such as her in a perilous situation. It had at times been requested. She had, many of those times, scoffed. But her desire to make money did compel her to find some places where she could provide some leeway. Certain holds lacked the indignity of having a sweaty ass smothering her face or a foot shoved in her mouth. A headscissor, applied with the right pressure to simply frame her pretty face in sculpted thighs, was one of those holds she had come to tolerate. As long as there was little to no pain, anyway.

So she prepped, she laid the most subtle self-inflicted trap, and she was all too pleased when Lucy grasped her clues. And she was surprisingly quick; Neith almost felt her legs clasping around her head before she saw them, and already prepped to be succulent in her suffering, she moaned and her hands moved to clasp the thighs that ensnared her.

The second moan, however, was real. Neith, ever allergic to any degree of pain, went genuinely wide-eyed from the squeeze which would have likely been commonplace for most wrestlers. While her instincts told her to cry out or retaliate, she kept her composure - for once - well enough by remembering she didn't want to ruin this too-perfect video. She peered at the lens with distress in her eyes when they rolled to the side, unknowingly making the scene even more appealing, and opted for a slap on one thigh, an unmistakably tight pinch of Lucy's ass, and silence save for her moaning to communicate that she should stop squeezing so incredibly hard.

[BlackAkuma]

Huh.

You know, Lucy had seen those watermelon-crushing videos on TikTok, and always figured it was just a thing for muscle babes to show off with, nothing much to it. But now that she had someone between her thighs and was getting her crush on, she had to admit, she could kind of see the appeal. It was like squeezing a big stress ball with your thighs, just took all the tension out of your body, and she loved the sensation of Neith’s heated breath over her bare skin. She wouldn’t be doing something like this on the regular, but maybe the next time she had a good date with a willing partner…

Lucy was so lost in the revelry that it took a couple of seconds to register the sharp pinch on her butt as something she needed to pay attention to. Her brow furrowed, away from the camera, along with a confused pout. Was Neith seriously hurting from this? It didn’t seem possible that she could hurt an actual wrestler, but that moan had sounded a little too real.

Better safe than sorry, she figured. She eased up on the pressure by a few degrees, doing her best to judge the intensity. By her guess, she got it down to about half-strength. Real effort, but not her best.

She had the upper hand, though. Needed to do something with that, couldn't just let it sit in silence. She let out a satisfied purr, an imitation of a noise she’d heard Neith make with Willy, and ran her hands along the Egyptian’s leg, careful not to grab anything that might’ve been a step too far. ”Enjoying the view, goddess?” She wiggled her hips and drew Neith’s face closer to her ass. Her own best feature, even if Neith’s was undoubtedly better. ”I know I am.”

[HotWheels]

A gasp sensual enough to melt steel beams - one that lay somewhere between genuine and forced for the camera - poured from Neith as Lucy let up on the pressure from the scissorhold. It was still sturdy, still ground a bit at Neith's ears, but even the neurotic session goddess could tolerate that degree of pressure for the act. She offered a massaging knead to Lucy's perky rear to express that she had struck the correct degree. Then it was time to - how did they say it in the west? - chew the scenery. And the goddess could do so with the best of them.

She remained filled with moans, and all the while, she shifted, squirmed, grasped, struggled, and peered into the camera as if asking those enamored souls soon to be watching as if they could offer her help. Several times she began to try and push herself up on her palms, only to fail and dramatically clutch at Lucy's thighs once more. "Oh... can't... breathe..." she gasped, the appeal dripping from her tongue. While the control of another body was what brought her pleasure after years of having her own body too often brought to heel, the low stakes and the situation did have her growing quite warm herself.

But, ultimately, the people paid to see her in control, or so she would believe until she was informed otherwise. It was a convenient belief to maintain. Lucy's fingers against her leg she used as the first "step" to the drama of the reversal, she let her legs writhe and squirm. The words she used as the second point of drama. "No," she said once, pitifully, but the second one was more defiant. "No. No goddess will-" And as Lucy wriggled, driving her face deeper and silencing her, the goddess took one more longing glance at the camera before her countenance steeled.

She hugged Lucy's lower back and ass tightly in her arms, and thankful that the drummer was light, she lifted her hips up but an inch or two, letting her toned back strain and flex with the effort. Of course, the counter was obvious and no great challenge, but she made it look like one as she perched on Lucy's chest before sliding back another inch so the string of her bottoms pressed against Lucy's chin. Her calf scooped at Lucy's head, situating it between her thighs, and then both legs extended into crossed ankles with the first "big" squeeze. Not her damndest, most certainly. But enough for the shock factor.

[BlackAkuma]

For a second, Lucy was worried that she might have seriously hurt Neith, but that fear was laid to rest when the woman gently squeezed her cheek, kneading the muscle and earning a pleased squeak from her that she couldn't quite help. Luckily, she knew enough editing voodoo to make a sound like that disappear in a way that only the sharpest ears would notice, and she wagered that most people watching this clip would have other priorities for their attention.

While she managed to keep her cool as Neith struggled between her thighs and even gave her legs a few flexes for effect, her inner child was thoroughly amused by the display, with it becoming more and more apparent that the woman was putting on a show. Her moans were distressed but erotic, though they never reached the embarrassing heights of porn parody. For someone who was so good at dishing out real pain, she was excellent at affecting fake agony. Made sense, the more she thought about it.

But, amusing as it was and as much fun as she had ‘in control’, Lucy wasn’t the star, here. Neith was, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she made that abundantly clear.

That matter of time turned out to only be a few seconds, as the woman abruptly seized control, rolling them around taking a top spot. Lucy didn't to fake the shocked gasp when she was flipped over, nor did she have to throw out a fake groan when those thighs clamped around her skull, swelling over her head and threatening to swallow it whole. She had no idea how much of this was her real strength, but she got the distinct impression that there was so much more she could be pouring into the hold.

For now, though, what she had to deal with was more than enough. Lucy tried to keep her legs around Neith’s legs for a few more moments before the exertion proved too much and she was forced to release, leaving her skinny limbs to thrash about beneath the goddess. She kept her legs wide, careful not to hit Neith in the face with her struggling, but she wanted to play her distress up for maximum distress.

Like this, the stark difference between their bodies was never more apparent, with Neith’s curvaceous form practically melting over Lucy’s skinny frame. Even so, she fought and wriggled and ground against her captor, struggling for every breath. Her hands came up to pull at Neith’s legs - or at least, that was how it would seem on camera. In truth, it was more akin to a massage, sinking her fingers into the flesh and kneading at the muscle, throwing some secret pleasure into the mix.

The whole time, she looked up Neith’s back with a strained grimace. ”Get…get off!”

[HotWheels]

The rest of the unwritten script followed its usual plot. No one had ever managed to beat Neith in a straight battle of leg power - even those silly, obnoxious fitness models with their burly legs. Of course, while the goddess held Lucy deliciously tightly between her thighs, she didn't wreck her video "partner" like she would have one of those fitness models, but it was all proportionate. Her half-squeeze beat Lucy's half-squeeze, and the legs around her head fell free. The goddess, appearing so very renewed, pushed up, arched her back, and propped her hands on Lucy's thighs. Her legs drew somehow tighter though still without sending Lucy to the point of blacking out, and she let loose with a genuine moan from the contact with her bare skin and the lovely feeling of Lucy's sweet little head occupying the snug space.

"That's better," she cooed, peering back over her shoulder and enjoying how small Lucy's head looked between her thighs. Oh, if she wanted to, she could have buried her back there, left her so drunk on pain and pleasure that she would have likely forgotten how to tap out entirely. But still she resisted. There was a flex of her glutes, but it resulted in no more pressure than before. She strained her legs in such a way that Lucy's wandering hands could find new dimples where the muscles deformed her skin in the most appealing ways. She threw her head back in ecstasy.

Lucy was keeping up the banter, and Neith laughed at her, a deep, mocking sound. "Beg, and I'll consider it. Or continue complaining, and I'll show you that I hold your life in my hands." It was said for effect, of course, but there was a genuine offer behind her words. Lucy could beg, and she would switch positions. If not, and she wanted to test some real pressure... Neith could so easily make that happen, too. She pumped her legs as if to urge her along to her answer.

[BlackAkuma]

What did Neith do to get legs like this, exactly? She imagined the woman worked out, you didn’t get a body like this just lazing around on a sofa all day and eating fine chocolates, but Lucy couldn't imagine her, say, hanging out in a gym doing squats. She didn’t seem like the type for cross-country running or spending an hour on a stairmaster or any of the myriad, menial things that people had to do to get this kind of leg power.

But, holy fuck, did she have it. Lucy could feel the power within those thighs, swelling under the surface. They were softer than pillows to the touch, but there was corded steel beneath, rising to the top. She could sense it, she could feel it, Neith could’ve ended her if she so desired.

But did she desire that?

It seemed the offer was being left to Lucy, and she gave it serious thought. She wasn’t a masochist, or so she thought, and the temptation to just let it go and spend her time worshiping this woman’s divine body was strong. But she had a morbid curiosity, a wandering thought, eager to see what this woman could do at her maximum, just to have these thighs engulf her. The void calling to her, only instead of a tall drop off a building, she had a pair of premium legs to stare at.

She dared. ”I don’t…” Lucy tensed up, pulled at Neith’s legs, then sagged back down. ”I don’t beg!” She kept her defiant face, but the hand that was out of sight found Neith’s and laced with her fingers, gripping tight. Her body tensed in preparation, she breathed deep.

Ready, set…

[HotWheels]

The goddess worked so very hard for the body set to crush Lucy into oblivion if she dared test her power. She did pilates from bed. She did weighted squats while watching her shows. She wore ankle weights while dancing. She cut any corners she could to build muscle at the most convenience to her, and it was so hard to find those corners best to cut. But years upon years of dedication to the craft had ensured that thick muscles crossed every important stretch of her body - from her calves to her back - and she enjoyed peering at her own tensing glutes while she waited for Lucy's answer.

And her answer? She wanted it. The worst. The goddess' face lit up with excitement that morphed into outright laughter.

She was of two minds between the hand that gripped hers. Was that merely preparation, a sign of trust? Or was it a sign she should temper the power she used against someone she imagined lacked experience having her head mashed between two thighs that could have squeezed the most offensive muscleheads unconscious in a matter of seconds? Neith opted to believe that the truth lay somewhere in between. She had a solution for that, and she wriggled her hips to situate herself better for that solution, grinding her curves along Lucy's cheeks all the while.

"You will," she declared. Her legs coiled, and she deftly turned the straight headscissor into a figure-four that tucked Lucy nice and tight between her hungry glues. Oh, she loved that sensation of so many delicate features getting crammed against her sensitivities. It summoned a moan. But she remained all business, tilting onto her side enough that Lucy's eyes, the only part of her face remaining visible between her legs and her ass, could be seen by the camera.

Then she grabbed at the foot elevated by the figure four and cranked, squeezing her head within the tightest of spaces. It lacked the power of a straight headscissor, but it looked and felt all the more hopelessly devastating. "Enjoy."

[BlackAkuma]

Mmm. This was comfy. Weirdly comfy. Maybe she owed Willy an apology - a small one, and he wasn’t going to get it regardless, but it was becoming easier and easier to see how the galoot had fallen into Neith’s leggy trap. The woman was simply intoxicating. Lucy had never thought she could get so turned on by simply having a woman on top of her, but here she was, wishing she could lay down and let Neith use her like a futon for hours on end. But that would’ve made for a poor video, right? Neith had plans. Active plans. Painful plans.

Lucy steeled herself, knowing she’d called down the wrath, though she wasn’t 100% sure what could come her way. She knew that the woman could, were she so inclined, knock her out in all sorts of ways. Even ignoring the goddess's mini-match with the boys, she had been hanging around LAW’s backstage long enough to know what a pair of strong thighs could do, having seen more than a few wrestlers get taken out by legs less impressive than these. Would she put her to sleep? It was on the table. Since they hadn't figured out a safeword or anything, there was nothing she could do to stop her.

Would she even want to?

Luckily - or unluckily, perhaps - that wasn’t the play, as Neith wanted her awake for the time being. Instead she was gifted with an even better view of the woman’s ass, as she flexed and drew her face in closer, closer, closer, until her mouth and nose were totally engulfed by supple cheeks, until she couldn't move her jaw, until she had to fight for every lust-laced breath of air. Lucy let out a long, hot moan that reverberated through Neith’s body, partly from the pain and partly from the ecstasy, as more and more of her overwhelming power came to the fore.

She considered bringing out her tongue and going to work, but decided against it - not quite proper, still trying to read the boundaries with this woman. She felt safe in burying her face in even deeper than it had to go, slipping into darkness, her features totally enveloped by dangerous curves, as her mouth worked to form pleas that would never be heard. Her squirming grew appropriately stronger and more desperate, and her rose to paw at the titanic thighs, helpless pawing away.

Poor little rabbit, stuck in a trap. Nowhere to run, nowhere to go.

[HotWheels]

Delicious.

Neith licked her lips as if to reinforce her own approving thoughts. Of course, Lucy contributed - that moan, those little muttered, desperate words, they all sent shivers throughout Neith's body. But she became enamored equally as much seeing Lucy disappear into her thighs and glutes, feeling her body swallow her victim's head like a toy she intended only for her own pleasure. She would not have been as successful if she did not enjoy wrapping others within the confines of her body, she knew, and having Lucy so completely tucked in could have had her wailing in ecstasy. As it was, she stuck to a simple moan and threw her head back, keeping the lock tight with her folded, levered legs.

"Breathe me in," Neith demanded, softly enough to sound like pillow talk. The moan that followed sounded enticing even to her own ears. "Drink of your goddess. You'll never want to be free of my legs again." She had the right of it; Lucy's motion indicated she was sinking more deeply into the hold, not pulling herself free. She could barely see her eyes anymore. Perfect. Neith let go of the foot she used to wrench the hold tighter so she could lay on her side, still keeping Lucy completely tucked into her figure-four but becoming more comfortable, casual. She propped on an elbow and traced the other woman's leg with her fingers.

As usual, the temptation to hump the poor, trapped woman's face until it was red with how tightly she was tucked struck her - but she was a professional. She held her there, her grip tight and all-encompassing but not merciless. Let her remain until she needed air. Which would have been right about... "Let me see what I've done to you." She unfolded just enough for Lucy to free everything but her chin from her glutes, and she peered back with a wild, eager smile. "Do you surrender to me?"