Trojan Horseplay – Storm’s Revenge

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“Oh!? You’d wreck us one-on-one!?” Storm was incredulous at Wendy’s outburst. “Then why the fuck did you attack me from fucking behind!?” The big brunette put extra pressure into the submission hold to punctuate her reply. This was one of the things Storm was finding interesting about the dark arts of playing heel – the different ways victims would react when faced with the prospect of a prolonged torture session could be quite revealing. “I knew you were a liar, a cheat, a sadist…”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Lyssa mused idly.

“But now I know you’re a fucking hypocrite,” Storm snarled, really yanking back on Wendy’s arms this time, and digging her knee sharply into the victim’s shoulders. She drew it out for several long moments, before allowing Lyssa her fun. “Aye, go on then, stinkface this bitch, it’s not like they’re rationed!”

“You got it!” Lyssa giggled, and immediately reached back to grab two handfuls of Wendy’s hair. Not needing any further encouragement, she thrust her hips back sharply, giving the trapped wrestler a hefty smack to the face with her denim-clad booty. That initial thud was nice, but Lyssa made sure to keep Wendy in place after that impact, squashing her up against her ass cheeks and then starting a slow, punishing grind.

There wasn’t much give in denim, so the chance of actually smothering Wendy in Lyssa’s butt crack was slim. It was, however, quite tough, and Lyssa knew that her victim’s face would be getting quite the painful buffeting with each movement, which is why the blue-haired girl went for a rough, twerking grind, happily yanking on Wendy’s hair, safe in the knowledge that her target was stuck in Storm’s grip and had no way of retaliating.

“Take that, you dumb cow!” Lyssa crowed as she continued the mean-spirited stinkface, glancing to the various web cameras to check the recording angle was a good one. “We’ll have to keep score of these, Storm, so it’s nice and fair!” she smirked, letting her victim -and potential viewers- know that there would be plenty more humiliations to come.

[BlackAkuma]

Yeah, Wendy kind of figured that would tick Storm off. She didn’t much care, but she said it anyway, and she had no regrets, knowing how true it was. If she had the chance, she would absolutely lay waste to either one of these bitches, especially the blue-haired little brat who was currently dancing around her apartment.

When Storm dug her knee even deeper into her spine, however, she wished she’d waited a while to voice that opinion. Like, say, at the moment where she was in a position to prove her assertion. That might have been ideal.

”Ah! Ah, fuck!” Wendy groaned as her arms were yanked further back and her chest shot out so far she was afraid her arms might dislocate. Painful as that was, though, it wasn’t her primary concern - no, she was far more worried about the blue-jeaned ass of the blue-haired bitched in front of her, ominously shaking about as the partners talked amongst themselves. ”Don’t you dare, don’t you fucking-”

Oh, Lyssa dared. She threw her ass back, grabbed Wendy by the hair, and proceeded to put her in one of the worst stinkfaces she’d ever had the displeasure of enduring. The Backstage Bully had never done a facesit with blue jeans on before, preferring the feel of a face on her bare skin and liking the knockout option, both of which you didn’t get when you covered up with denim. Now, though, she was reevaluating her preference in the worst way. What the jean stink face lacked in smothering power, it made up for in sheer pain, as Wendy’s features were run across unforgiving material, scratched up, buffeted left and right, up and down.

Wendy kicked her legs and squirmed about as much as she could, but it wasn’t getting her anywhere. It just worsened her predicament, adding to Lyssa’s gyrations, as the little demoness laughed it up and mugged for the cameras. A stream of muffled curses flew from her lips as the torment continued and her face grew redder by the moment.

[hamish1024]

“Bwahahaahaaa!” Lyssa leant back and cackled indulgently as she rubbed her ass thoroughly across Wendy’s trapped features. To her mind, that was one of the key things about stinkfaces – sure, they were disorienting, potentially painful, often smothery – but above all else, they were fucking funny. Giving some hapless bitch a face full of ass was a punchline that never got old. Doubly so when the humiliation victim was someone as haughty and full of herself as Wendy. Lyssa knew she had an annoying laugh, abrasive, leering and shrill, but she didn’t give a damn. Hell, if the joke was already at someone else’s expense (and with Lyssa, it usually was) then it was a plus, she wanted them to be extra annoyed, for her callous cackling to stick that extra little knife in to let the stooge know how badly they’d been humbled.

Lyssa was certainly enjoying giving Wendy the rough stinkface treatment, but she didn’t prolong it – thirty seconds or so, enough to put her plaything’s nose out of joint and make her mad, but brief enough to keep it as an appetizer for the main focus of events – properly fucking up Wendy’s day. The blue-haired girl gave a final jiggle of her cheeks to batter Wendy’s face, and then stepped away, releasing the stinkface and twirling around to admire her handiwork, and to take a lead from Storm.

The Scot had been quietly enjoying her front row view of Wendy’s muffled struggles in the stinkface, but was ready to resume her revenge beatdown. Sure, the surfboard was a damaging hold, but it only scratched the surface of how badly the brunette wanted to debilitate this white-haired bitch. As soon as Lyssa was done shaking her derriere, Storm would drop Wendy’s arms, temporarily relinquishing control, but immediately grabbing a fistful of Wendy’s hair to compensate. Storm shuffled onto her ass and brought her legs up, whilst pulling Wendy backwards, enveloping the Southerner in a Triangle Choke. Storm grunted with effort as she tightened her thighs around her victim’s neck, as she started to get serious about making Wendy suffer.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy might not have been in Lyssa’s cheeks for long, but it damn well felt like an eternity, as the hellion made sure to rub the predicament in her face, both figuratively and literally. It would’ve been bad enough if Storm was the one who got the better of her - at least the Scot was big and strong enough to be a real threat. But this bitch? If Wendy got her hands on her, she could’ve broken her in half. She was the sort of girl that the Backstage Bully took pride in demolishing, punky smart-asses who thought they were hot shit. She wasn’t supposed to be on top. She wasn’t supposed to be dominating. She was supposed to be on her back, crying as their faces got caved in by a superior ass.

That thought alone brought a flash of a smile to her face, before Lyssa whipped it away with a smack of her cheeks, plunging her back into the denim-covered hell. She had to endure it for a few more seconds she back off, finally giving her some time to breathe.

Storm let go of her hold, as well, but Wendy suspected that reprieve wouldn’t last long. She was proven right, as the Scotswoman pulled her head back, wrapped her legs around her neck, and clamped down with a tight hold, crushing her neck between the same thighs she’d admired when they first met. Now they swelled with vengeful power, robbing the breath from her, threatening to knock her clean out.

In her apartment? On her turf? Fuck that. Wendy might be going down, but she would go down fighting. Gritting her teeth, she did her best to endure the hold and retaliated, bringing her arm up and driving her elbow into Storm’s calf, again and again, as many times as she could get away with.

[hamish1024]

Storm gave a grimly satisfied smile as she locked on the Triangle Choke and tensed her thighs, crushing Wendy with a long-awaited – ow. OW ow ow. The white-haired bitch was fighting the hold with everything she had – in this case, a free arm to fire sharp elbows into Storm’s leg.

“Fuck off,” grunted the Scot, channelling her anger and continuing to squeeze Wendy’s neck. “I got enough fucking bruises from you, you are NOT adding to them today.”

Lyssa belatedly stepped in to assist, scooping up Wendy’s left leg and lifting it into the air. “Yeah, cut that RIGHT out,” she snarled, stamping down onto Wendy’s unprotected crotch to try and disrupt the victim’s struggles. “It’s cute that you think you have a chance here, but… you don’t.”

As Lyssa kicked the downed girl, Storm took the opportunity to ratchet up the Triangle Choke, grabbing Wendy’s right arm that had been threaded through her legs. Meanwhile, Lyssa would sit down on the mat at Wendy’s left side, keeping hold of her leg to stretch it out painfully, whilst simultaneously snatching for Wendy’s left wrist, pulling the arm out at ninety degrees to her body. Lyssa’s feet dug painfully into Wendy’s left side. With most of the white-haired girl’s limbs under their control, Storm was free to proceed with punishing her enemy.

“Don’t worry, I won’t knock you out,” cooed the brunette. “I just want you nice and pliant for the rest of the shit that’s coming your way…”

However, Storm was also pretty sure that Wendy was tough enough to endure a prolonged hold, so she would not be relinquishing control any time soon!

[BlackAkuma]

No, further antagonizing the women who’d broken into her apartment and were bent on revenge was not a smart move by any stretch of the imagination. There was a reason she’d done the sneak attack on Storm instead of coming at her straight up, after all. While she hadn't seen the woman wrestle yet, she could tell just from looking at her that she was built, tough, a rough fight. Beating her would’ve been a hard thing one-on-one, but with Lyssa there? No, it wasn’t happening. This was not a fight she was ever going to win.

But, the thing was, Wendy was pissed. When Wendy was pissed, she often did things that were, say, less than smart. Some might even say ‘dumb’. Ticking off the woman who was currently choking her lifeless qualified.

”Go…fuck…yourself…” Wendy wheezed out her insults as best she could while her throat was being compressed, defiant, but that came to an end when Lyssa grabbed her legs. She shook her head, realizing what the little hellion was about to do, but it was too late - down came her foot, crashing into her crotch and sending a spear of agony straight through her midsection. Wendy squealed, only for her cries to be cut off as Storm amped up the pressure.

Wendy wasn’t even given a moment to cope with that agony before she was subjected to something even worse, as Lyssa moved in and grabbed her free arm. The next thing that the Backstage Bully knew, she had a pair of heels digging into her side as her arm and leg were pulled, stretching her out while Storm continued to choke her.

So, yeah, the little assurance that she wasn’t going to get knocked out? Not a comfort. If anything, going to sleep would’ve been a blessing. Storm wanted to draw this out, make it a humiliation, and Wendy couldn't do a damn thing to stop. Her struggles were growing weaker by the second, as she wasted precious energy writhing about, her spasms turning to twitches and her groans turning to whimpers.

[hamish1024]

“Hah. Gonna fight this, huh?” Storm grinned as she garrotted Wendy with her legs. The Scot was wearing pants, so there was a slight give in the stranglehold. Not ideal if you wanted to choke someone out – Storm would have preferred going skin-to-skin for that – but, as she’d said, this was about a lot more than just efficiency.

“No discussion… no begging…. As feral as ever, aren’t we Wendy?” Storm continued as the triangle choke ground on, the victim’s squirming becoming pleasingly strained. “We’ll really have to work on that no begging thing, since I am NOT leaving here without an apology. A grovelling, begging show of absolute fucking SORROW!” Storm snarled and gave Wendy’s head an extra firm wrench between her thighs, to emphasise her point. She was starting to feel the satisfying, self-righteous hit of revenge, now, but Storm was nowhere near sated.

They’d worn Wendy down for a little while, and the Brits were starting to get restless. With their victim looking sufficiently strangulated, Storm would finally release her legs. The big brunette scuttled up to her feet, taking a handful of Wendy’s hair to ‘help’ the floored girl upright. As they rose, Storm would also drive a firm knee up into Wendy’s chest, trying to keep the victim staggered.

Lyssa got to her feet too, so that Wendy was now stood directly between the two intruders. The smaller wrestler stepped up and delivered a hard kick to Wendy’s back, sending her staggering towards Storm… who would respond with a brutal fist to the stomach. The duo clearly felt they had the situation under control, and could play a particularly evil form of tennis with their prey, batting Wendy back and forth with well placed strikes from both directions!

[BlackAkuma]

The last thing Wendy wanted to do was go down without a fight, but it wasn’t amounting to much at the moment, as Storm continued to grind her to a pulp between her fulsome thighs. She was growing weaker by the second, spots were forming in her vision and the darkness was setting in, with every little struggle becoming weaker than the last. As much as she hated the idea of going to sleep with these bitches standing over her, maybe that was for the best - if she was out, they couldn't torture her, and maybe she could get an early reprieve from this nightmare.

It was an oddly comforting thought, but it wasn’t happening, as the two bitches let up just before Wendy could fade all the way, leaving her to gasp and sputter and cough as she was dragged back into reality. All she wanted to do at the moment was lay there and wallow, but she wasn’t even afforded that comfort, as Storm grabbed her by the hair and started pulling her up.

”Ah, cunt!” She hissed as she reached up to feebly paw at Storm’s grip. ”Let go of my hair, you-”

Her curses were stopped when Storm’s knee shot into her chest, driving out what little air she’d managed to regain in the last few seconds.

”Stop-” She took a kick to the back.

”Wait-” A harsh punch to the stomach.

”Please-” A push kick against her butt.

Wendy was battered back and forth between the tag team partners, unable to defend herself, open to every attack, her cries growing weaker with every strike. Eventually it proved to be too much - she collapsed, fell forward, and came down on her knees before Storm, breathing heavy, wheezing, groaning as the pain took its tool. There was hardly an area of her body that wasn’t hurting at this point.

[hamish1024]

“Oh, this is… hah… good!” Storm exclaimed breathlessly as she fired well-aimed, rhythmic blows into Wendy’s body. Alternating her attacks with Lyssa, the British pair were able to keep their prey staggered, raining knees, jabs, uppercuts and snap kicks into their target in smart succession. It was a good workout - Storm felt her temperature rise, and a tingle of sweat on her skin, as they toyed with their target, leaving Wendy with no reprieve, and no avenue of escape.

“If we do this again we’ll have to find somewhere we can hang her from the ceiling, give her the real punching bag treatment!” the Scot exclaimed with relish, firing a side kick into Wendy’s chest. The revenge-hungry brunette was finding this exercise extremely satisfying.

“Hah, I love that we’re unlocking your evil side,” Lyssa purred approvingly, the blue-haired girl also working up a sweat as she blasted their victim in the kidneys with a heavy wind-up punch. “But don’t say ‘if’, say ‘when’ we do this again…” she grinned wickedly.

“Well,” said Storm, thoughtfully, as Wendy finally collapsed to her knees from the barrage of blows, whimpering. “That depends, doesn’t it?” She took a handful of white hair and held up the kneeling girl’s face, angling her for forced eye contact. The victim’s blue eyes looked tired, but Storm’s were anything but.

“You’re a nasty fucking piece of work, Wendy, but I haven’t quite figured you out. A bully with bad judgement, who needs to be taught a lesson? Or a rabid fucking dog that needs to be put down?” The lecturing Scot emphasised her last point with a knee to the tit, but kept the hairpull in place on her kneeling victim. “So. Help me decide, and it’ll choose how the rest of the night goes for you. Lyssa, hold her in place,” Storm snarled, her dominant side coming to the fore, now that her appetite for vengeance had been piqued.

Lyssa happily complied, a smirk on her impish face, only too happy to indulge her partner’s sadistic impulse. The big brunette had been moping for a long time, casting a real downer on their move to Japan, so Lyssa was thrilled to see her sullen friend coming out of her shell. Lyssa took over the hairpull, filling her left fist with Wendy’s hair, whilst using her free hand to grab Wendy’s right arm and twist it up behind her back in a controlling chickenwing hold. The blue-haired girl held the victim roughly, rapt and eager to see what Storm was cooking up.

A cold intensity shone through Storm’s brown eyes as she looked down at her foe. “Your choice now, bitch. Give me a grovelling, and I mean absolutely fucking begging apology, and maybe we’ll let you off with a little light humbling. And to start…”

Storm grinned, and began to slide her pants down her muscular thighs. She half-turned, to reveal her fantastically round ass was wearing nothing but the tiniest of black g-strings. The Scot stood so that her divine derriere was placed pointedly towards Wendy, hovering a few inches from her face.

“… you can kiss my fucking arse. And it had better be good, this thing has been giving me a wedgie all day,” she ordered, with a cruel grin. Storm patted her big backside and gave her thong a playful tug, both Brits now waiting with baited breath to see how badly Wendy would debase herself by kissing the big butt cheeks being waggled in front of her.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy tried to get her arms up a few times as she was battered about, trying to defend herself, but it was a futile effort. The more she struggled, the worst the beating got, as she wasted precious energy and wound up disorienting herself even worse. She lost all sense of direction, so bad that she couldn't even tell which one of the bitches was battering her anymore. One second it was Lyssa, smacking her across the face with a backhand, then Storm would lay into her with a heavy haymaker and spin her about…or was it the other way around? It all descended into a flurry of blows, buffeted here and there and back again, over and over, this ceaseless whirlwind of strikes…

It was too much, and she fell to her knees, breathing hard, blinking in and out of consciousness. She muttered a few curses under her breath but couldn't even muster the air to speak them out loud. All she wanted to do was stay there and recover, holding out the faint chance that she could turn this around, but that notion was growing increasingly distant with each passing second.

”Hey!” She yelped as her hair was yanked and forced upright, hissing while Storm looked into her eyes. Yeah, she was pissed - you could almost feel the malice radiating out of her, coming in waves, and Wendy had no doubt she would follow through on every little notion that came her way. She definitely would do the same if the positions were swapped…which they would be, if Wendy ever had her say about it.

For now, though, she was at the partners’ mercy, helpless as Lyssa took control and secured her arm. Sure enough, this wasn’t just about beating her around. No, Storm was looking for a little psychological validation, too, and it was going to start the only way it really could: by evening the score. Wendy gritted her teeth as the Scotswoman swung about and brought her hot - but not as hot as Wendy’s - ass out to play, ripe for the kissing.

The smart thing to do, here, would’ve been to just get this over with. They wanted an apology? Fuck it, give them an apology. They wanted her to kiss Storm’s ass? Fuck it, a few pecks wouldn’t hurt. Hell, it was a nice ass, there were many worse things she could’ve put her lips on. Just a few seconds of humiliation, a small price to pay, and she could always live to get them back another day. It was a no-brainer.

That was the logical course of action. But, as Wendy kneeled there, a captive in her own apartment, beaten about by two women she was sure she could’ve taken one-on-one, on her own turf…well, she didn’t feel that logical.

”Fuck you!” She lashed out, opened her mouth, and gave Storm a vicious bite right on the ass. No, it wasn’t the smartest move by any stretch of the imagination. Yes, it was about to make her situation exponentially worse.

She just didn’t care. She would in about two seconds, tops, but not right now.