Match Type: Hentai toys KO
Rules:
Rules:
Fumie's tight wet pussy drooled within the confines of her panties. Her slutty little pussy throbbed and ached for a release, so much so that it almost hurt. Fumie's hand unconsciously made its way down to the groin of her shorts and she began to rub her clit through the thin fabric, releasing quiet, whimpering moans as she did so. Bolts of pleasure shot through her clit and spread through her pelvis, causing her womanhood to spasm. Her mind went into overdrive, imagining all of the lewdness that would almost surely befall her in the ring tonight. After mindlessly rubbing her clit for several long moments, her fingers started to sneak their way under her waistband.
"No!" cried Fumie out loud as she swiftly pulled her hand away. A few heads turned. "Not yet," she whispered. "Not yet."
Just then, Fumie noticed that her wetness had left the confines of her panties. Her juices had begun to flow down her inner thigh, leaving a glistening trail of arousal. So much for hiding it, thought Fumie, her face taking on a slight tinge of red. Her heart contained a mix of emotions. She felt shame at her abject arousal, which she had failed to keep contained. She felt worry over how she would be viewed by her classmates at Waseda as her sexual side would once again be put on public display. And she also feared that her small little body would not be able to handle the sexual punishment she was about to receive.
Spoilered for length
Then there was the matter of Yukina, her older sister and manager. Yukina had only told her two things: be safe and do what made her happy. Yet, even though Fumie was bad at reading people, even Fumie could tell that something was amiss. She almost wanted to say that Yukina seemed nervous—possibly even a little fearful. Yukina did not seem to be entirely at ease with the situation, even though her words had given Fumie carte blanche to proceed with the match.
Moreover, Fumie's family—the Suzuki family—did not seem happy with Fumie's choice of activity. Or at the very least, they were not entirely at ease with her activities. Yet, no one in her family tried to stop her, and her parents had expressed their wish to let Fumie make her own choices. The only restriction that Fumie had received from her family was to not use the family name—a way of distancing the family from Fumie's lascivious acts. And, by virtue of overhearing, Fumie had found out that her parents had made a strong demand of Yukina: keep Fumie safe.
"Don't worry, I'll be safe. The mindbreak shouldn't be permanent," whispered Fumie to no one in particular.
"The only one being mindbroken should be Finella." A red-haired woman materialized behind Fumie, placing a hand on her shoulder. The woman was Ayame Aoi.
Ayame laughed. "So literal," she said, "but you're probably right."
"I still intend to fight though. After all, it’s—"
"—hotter when they struggle," Ayame said with a smile. "If you ever happen to turn into a dude though, don't say that sort of a thing. It'd sound messed up."
Fumie smiled back. She had been jokingly lectured by Ayame over the use of that phrase before.
Ayame gave a light squeeze to Fumie's shoulder. The two woman stood in silence for a moment before Ayame spoke up. "So, how are you feeling about this match?"
"Excited because I'm going to get fucked silly," Fumie stated casually before pausing. "But also nervous."
"About your folks and people at school?" Fumie nodded. "Don't worry, you'll be alright. Just have fun out there," reassured Ayame. "And if anyone harasses you at Waseda, send them my way—I'll kick their ass!" proclaimed Ayame as she flexed her bicep.
"AND NOW, STANDING AT 152 CENTIMETERS, AND WEIGHING IN AT 48 KILOGRAMS... FUMIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!"
"Shit! Time for you to go!" said Ayame. She gave a playful front push kick to Fumie's lower back, spurring her onwards.
Moreover, Fumie's family—the Suzuki family—did not seem happy with Fumie's choice of activity. Or at the very least, they were not entirely at ease with her activities. Yet, no one in her family tried to stop her, and her parents had expressed their wish to let Fumie make her own choices. The only restriction that Fumie had received from her family was to not use the family name—a way of distancing the family from Fumie's lascivious acts. And, by virtue of overhearing, Fumie had found out that her parents had made a strong demand of Yukina: keep Fumie safe.
"Don't worry, I'll be safe. The mindbreak shouldn't be permanent," whispered Fumie to no one in particular.
"The only one being mindbroken should be Finella." A red-haired woman materialized behind Fumie, placing a hand on her shoulder. The woman was Ayame Aoi.
Fumie jumped. "Given the disparity in our fighting skills, it is a near certainty that Finella will be mindbreaking me. Not the other way around."
Ayame laughed. "So literal," she said, "but you're probably right."
"I still intend to fight though. After all, it’s—"
"—hotter when they struggle," Ayame said with a smile. "If you ever happen to turn into a dude though, don't say that sort of a thing. It'd sound messed up."
Fumie smiled back. She had been jokingly lectured by Ayame over the use of that phrase before.
Ayame gave a light squeeze to Fumie's shoulder. The two woman stood in silence for a moment before Ayame spoke up. "So, how are you feeling about this match?"
"Excited because I'm going to get fucked silly," Fumie stated casually before pausing. "But also nervous."
"About your folks and people at school?" Fumie nodded. "Don't worry, you'll be alright. Just have fun out there," reassured Ayame. "And if anyone harasses you at Waseda, send them my way—I'll kick their ass!" proclaimed Ayame as she flexed her bicep.
"AND NOW, STANDING AT 152 CENTIMETERS, AND WEIGHING IN AT 48 KILOGRAMS... FUMIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!"
"Shit! Time for you to go!" said Ayame. She gave a playful front push kick to Fumie's lower back, spurring her onwards.
"AND NOW, STANDING AT 152 CENTIMETERS, AND WEIGHING IN AT 48 KILOGRAMS... FUMIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!"
Fumie hurriedly stumbled out onto the stage area. The rush to make her entrance and the light yet unexpected kick compromised her balance. She took unsteady strides toward in an attempt to catch herself. Once her foot hit the slope of the ramp, she completely lost her balance and fell flat on her face with her ass sticking up into the air. The lascivious cameras zoomed in on Fumie's upturned ass, revealing the arousal that had leaked out onto the insides of her thighs. The audience gasped, the glint of the lights on Fumie's womanly juices making it unmistakable: Fumie was dripping wet!
"She's already wet!"
"What a slut!"
The arena broke out into a rowdy uproar. Catcalls, wolf whistles, and all manner of crass sayings sprang from the crowd. Meanwhile, Fumie sheepishly got to her feet. Her arms crossed and her posture became smaller with each step she took. Fumie's face was bright red and several tears dripped down her face. Her pussy also began to drool even more intensely, with new droplets of arousal trickling down her thighs. As she walked, Fumie's clit began to throb once more. She tightly squeezed her thighs together as she walked in an attempt to satiate herself, each step sending small, almost negligible jolts of pleasure through her needy womanhood.
By the time she got inside the ring, Fumie's breath was ragged and moist. Her body screamed at her to pleasure herself right then and there—it would have been so easy for Fumie to release her tension too. All she would have needed to do was touch herself while visualizing Finella's various escapades with Barbara. But somehow, Fumie resisted. She knew that she would get plenty of pleasure during the match. Plus which, she did not want to come across as more of a needy slut than she had to—although Fumie knew full well that she had mostly failed in that regard.
Above the backdrop of sexual need and rapturous enthusiasm inside Fumie, however, laid another feeling. One of trepidation and shame. She worried what her opponent might think and say after seeing her like this. Moreover, the crude jeers of the crowd did not make Fumie feel any better. Shame burned in her chest almost as hotly as arousal burned in her womanhood. Fumie could barely handle the present humiliation, but the prospect of getting fucked silly and humiliated spurred Fumie on, giving her the courage to stand her ground!