The Spoils of War

[hamish1024]

The Brits embraced for a few slow, languid moments, warming to the idea of a celebratory fuck whilst they were riding the high of victory. For both of them, this was largely about lust. Storm, having capped an epic battle by grinding an orgasm out on Wendy’s face, was finding that her libido, long-suppressed these past weeks whilst she had sparred with the Southerner, was awakened enough to be in the mood for another round. Even if it was with Lyssa, who was in her domineering element, and alert to any and all kinds of mischief.

Their hungry groping was eventually interrupted by Wendy’s complaints. Lyssa would happily have continued, spurred on by her captive’s annoyance, but her insults clearly got to Storm, who broke off the kiss and rubbed her face wearily.

“Can we please shut her up? Got to be all kinds of ball gags in this place…” the brunette mused, irritably.

Lyssa chewed her lip thoughtfully and turned back to Wendy. Again, the blue-haired girl was impressed that her victim was far from a whimpering wreck, and showing admirable spirit. Breaking her would be a lot of fun.

“Oh, you want all our backstory?” Lyssa smiled. “You know, most girls don’t stop for juicy gossip whilst they’re in the middle of being electrocuted.”

“Don’t be airing dirty laundry in public, Lyss,” frowned Storm, clearly uninterested in what Wendy thought of all this. Lyssa, though, seemed more minded to tolerate the interruption, especially since it involved talking about her favourite subject – herself.

“Okay, okay, she can have the short version.” Lyssa approached the bondage cross, chatting amicably to her squirming captive. “So, back home, me and Storm fought. A lot. She was such a goody two shoes. As you can imagine, I ended up winning…”

“...because you cheated….” Storm added.

“...whatever, and yes, I might have taken a few liberties when applying a loser’s forfeit. But here’s the thing – Storm’s not a fucking idiot. Despite appearances, she’s not some dumb buffalo willing to bang her head against the same obstacles, over and over again, like some fucking losers around here,” Lyssa glared pointedly at Wendy. “She learns from her mistakes. She learned that we were better as a team, and that it’s always better to end up on top. Oh yeah, and we fucked a few times, I guess that’s really what you were interested in, but it was always a one-night-stand kinda deal.”

“Ha! I knew you wouldn’t admit that I dumped you,” Storm smirked.

“Oh, NOW who’s airing dirty laundry, hmm?” Lyssa hissed. “Look, let’s not get hung up on this, I was trying to reward you, remember? Gosh, I kinda feel overdressed.”

Lyssa slowly sauntered back to Storm, stripping off her vest as she did so, kicking off her boots, and lowering her jeans. Her petite body was left in naught but black, lacy underwear, and she gleefully twerked her thong-cut panties at Wendy as she went back to kissing and groping her partner.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy tensed up at the idea of having a ball gag shoved in her maw. While she owned a couple and would use them on clients or in scenes when requested, she’d always hated having them used on her, and the idea of being stuck in here for who-the-fuck knew how long with one shoved down her throat did not appeal. The smart thing to do in this situation would be just to shut up and let them fuck each other - the more time they spent making out and the less time they spent torturing her, the better.

…but fuck it, she was curious, and it wasn’t like screaming and threatening them more was going to get her anywhere. There were only so many ways she could tell the pair she was going to ruin their shit.

Besides, the subject gave her something to divide her focus on besides the pain coursing through her system from the increased voltage. Her muscles tensed and spasmed, she jolted around in the binds, but the longer it went on, the more she could deal with it - for now. It was starting to cross the gap between annoying and agonizing, though, and she swore she could smell a hint of burning skin from her nipples.

She tensed up as Lyssa came her way again, expecting the woman had some new torture in mind, but she eased up - as much while voltage was running through her - when she instead got the explanation she’d asked for, or at least the abridged version of it. It wasn’t quite what she was expecting, to be honest. She’d gathered that they’d started as enemies, but she figured something big must’ve happened to bring them together. Instead, it seemed like they just sort of…clicked.

Not something Wendy could relate with. Come to think of it, she hadn’t really ‘clicked’ with anyone since she came to Japan, and not much before, either. She hadn't been on the lookout for friends, and wouldn’t have been all that good at finding them if she had.

Hadn't been a problem, or so she thought…but, then again, there had been a few times in LAW where having some backup would’ve come in handy. This is just the biggest, most recent example.

And fuck, watching them go at it was just making her more mindful of the fact that it had been a good few months since she’d had any action.

She bit her lip, trying to keep her horniness in check as Lyssa stripped and went back at it with her partner, the two of them getting back into it right in front of her - not something she wanted to see. The electricity was taking a toll, too, forcing out the occasional shriek from her when it lit up a nerve, surging through her body at intervals. She was doing her best to deal with it, but….

”Ah, fuck!” She finally spat out as she sagged forward. ”Fuck, don’t leave me like this, turn it down for second!”

[hamish1024]

The British pair were mid-embrace when Wendy finally began to waver, her wails prompting an amused snort from Lyssa.

“Aha, some cracks in the façade,” she smirked, momentarily breaking off her kiss to survey her captive. “You wanna break? Too fucking late, should have asked nicely. You can bloody well stay like that until Stormy gets the orgasm I promised her!” Lyssa grinned, before turning back to her partner. “Speaking of which, why don’t you make yourself comfortable on that bench over there?” she purred.

Storm raised her eyebrows. “You mean, the bench with the leather restraints at each end? Nope, not falling for that, I know better than to let my guard down around you and bondage gear,” the brunette admonished playfully.

“Fine,” sighed Lyssa, “I guess we’ll rough it and fuck on the floor, then. See that, Wendy? Told you Storm learns from her mistakes!”

Storm lowered herself into a seated position, opening her legs as she looked invitingly up at her partner. “I’d tell you to hurry up, but honestly, if that bitch has to fry until we’re finished, I’m tempted to go as slow as possible…” she purred. Storm was far from an exhibitionist, and part of her knew that playing with her ex like this wasn’t exactly healthy… but at the same time, tonight was the horniest she had been in weeks, she knew that Lyssa (for all her faults) liked to reward favours, and most importantly of all – Wendy looked really, really pissed off at the prospect.

So, for the sake of killing several birds with one stone – Storm sat back and let Lyssa go down on her.

The normally brash brunette was quieter now, fully intending to fulfil her side of the bargain. She knelt and planted kisses on Storm’s muscular frame, quickly slipping the sweat-soaked thong from Storm’s legs, running her hands over her partner’s body and moving her mouth in between her parted thighs.

Minutes passed. Lyssa didn’t lack for enthusiasm, even if it was uncharacteristically submissive of her to focus entirely on her friend. Storm moaned and twitched in pleasure, pulse quickening with each lick of her pussy. Unfortunately for poor Wendy, this wasn’t the quickest of fucks – Storm had largely been joking about intentionally prolonging things, but she still took it steady, and her body wasn’t quite as keenly primed, since she’d recently rubbed herself to climax on Wendy in the ring.

She did come though, thrusting her hips upwards as pure pleasure gripped her. Lyssa dutifully kept her tongue in place until she was certain her debt was paid, and then pulled back up onto her haunches, dabbing at her sticky chin, and smiling.

“Hahhh… that was good….” sighed Storm, staring out at the ceiling. “Do you want a go, or….?”

“Ah, thanks, but no,” replied Lyssa. “I think I’ll pace myself, I’m going to be playing with this fucking loser all night,” she grinned wolfishly as she turned back to the tortured wrestler hanging from the wall.

“Oh, yeah, I said you’d get a break,” Lyssa cackled as she sauntered back over to Wendy. She finally flipped the switch on the battery, ending the painful flow of electricity to Wendy’s body. The blue-haired girl then swiftly stretched up on tip-toes, and forcibly French-kissed her captive, giving the Southerner a mouthful of Storm’s sticky juices, before breaking off and grinning, full of ideas about how to fuck with her plaything next.

[BlackAkuma]

…Jesus, they were actually going to fuck right in front of her.

Or, at least, Lyssa was going down on Storm right then and there. Storm had kind of thought the two were making some kind of weird joke before, that this was all them screwing with her head and trying to piss her off - which was working fucking splendidly if that was the case. She believed that they’d been a couple from the way they embraced and were all over each other, but she didn’t think they would go that far. Not right here and now.

But nope, they were going that far. Wendy looked on through watering eyes as Storm lowered and went Lyssa went to work,putting her tongue to use. Soon enough, the room was filled with the sounds of her ecstasy, moans and sighs that bounced off the walls and slithered there way into the Backstage Bully’s brain.

Hell. This was what hell was like - two bitches you hate fucking while you fry on a cross for all eternity.

Wendy did her best to keep it together, but she was only a human, and there was only so much anyone could resist, especially when she had to watch these two in the process. A whimper slipped out. Then a groan. Then a full cry. As the minutes ticked on like hours, each second brought a new agony, a new shock, a new jolt to her system, and it all took a toll.

By the time they finally, finally, finally finished up, Wendy had broken down to intermittent screams, jerking this way and that in the bonds, like a puppet getting her strings yanked. Her breasts bounced about with every jolt, her hair hanging about in a matted mess, and she slumped forward when Lyssa turned the juice off, lifeless in the bondage.

She found a new spurt of energy when the woman reached up and took her mouth with an impish kiss, giving her a forced reminder of what Storm’s pussy tasted like. Wendy growled and snapped at Lyssa whens she pulled away, but the woman’s lips were already out of her teeth’s range. ”Fuck…” She wheezed, struggling to take in enough air. ”Fuck. What the hell is wrong with you? Jesus Christ…”

[hamish1024]

“Ooh, still bitey,” Lyssa scoffed as she sharply pulled away from Wendy, making a narrow escape from the bound woman’s snapping teeth. Lyssa wasn’t complacent about her victim, her movements swift enough to keep Wendy on the back foot and, more importantly, not offer the Southerner any avenue for revenge, no matter how pointless or petty. It was clear that Lyssa had absolutely no intention of allowing these tables to be turned.

“What’s wrong with me? Oh, love, this is your therapy session, not mine,” she smirked. Lyssa leant in again to whisper in Wendy’s ear.

“You know, you’re missing something really important about all this. I wonder if you’ll work it out?” Lyssa purred cryptically, before nipping playfully -and painfully - at Wendy’s earlobe.

Meanwhile, Storm had been lounging on the floor in a contentedly post-orgasmic daze, but seeing this whispered exchange made the brunette stir, and she staggered upright.

Lyssa smiled at her partner. “Wendy wants to know what’s wrong with me.”

Storm sardonically raised her eyebrows. “Hmmm... how long have you got?”

“Heh. As it happens, all fucking night!” Lyssa beamed, punctuating her response by pinching and twisting at Wendy’s battery-clamped right nipple, purely for emphasis.

“Look, since you asked… I like hurting people, alright? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. This is a tough business. People gotta get hurt. Might as well be people that aren’t me.” Lyssa mused as she mauled her captive’s chest. “And people that hurt my friends can go right to the top of the fucking queue,” she added before finally stepping away.

Storm had now roused herself sufficiently to get involved in the conversation. “Christ, is this woman still at the whimpering ‘why me’ stage?” she snarled, pulling a mock pout at Wendy. “Ugh, let’s make this really fucking simple…”

The big brunette balled her fist and drilled it into the bound girl’s belly, thumping her for every word she said. “You. Will. Never. Bully. Me. Again.” Six hard, hateful punches, straight to poor Wendy’s sensitised stomach.

The half-naked Storm paced around, wondering whether to continue. Her anger had largely been sated, and her point made, but she knew Lyssa was just getting started.

“You know, I should probably call it a night,” the Scotswoman sighed. “It was a rough match, I could really do with a hot shower and an ice bath...”

Lyssa made a show of grimacing at her partner’s decision. “Ugh… maybe we should be asking what is wrong with you,” she joked. “Fine, fine, you wanna be virtuous, you can miss out all the fun if you want… before you go, though, will you help me knock this bitch out again?”

“Oh, one for the road? Sure,” Storm grinned, and swiftly drilled her knee up hard between Wendy’s spread legs. Whist the Southerner was reeling, the Brits unfastened her from the wall shackles, roughing her up with gut punches before throwing her to the floor.

“Would it be boring to just arse-smother her again?” Storm grinned as she surveyed her fallen foe.

“Ummm… nahh, I think she likes it,” Lyssa leered. “Besides, I don’t think she’s had the bare ass treatment yet… ooh, and we can double team her, too!”

Beaming with cruel intent, the Brits scooped up Storm’s discarded black thong, cramming the sweaty garment into Wendy’s mouth. “That’s what you get for being a biter,” Lyssa chided, as Storm slowly straddled the floored woman, her big, round butt hovering ominously above Wendy’s face.

“Any last words?” Storm cackled cruelly, before shoving her fulsome rear down hard, locking her rival in a torrid reverse facesit. With no underwear in the way, Storm could feel every futile struggle of the woman below her.

Lyssa would relish the scene for a short while, before sauntering over to her partner, and sitting down on her lap – adding her own weight to the facesit, and piling on the pressure for poor, smothered Wendy. The Brits would show no mercy – they fully intended to make this knockout as nasty as possible.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy just seethed when her bite missed. No, it wouldn’t have changed too much or gotten her free - in all likelihood, it just would’ve gotten Lyssa to do something crazier to her. But she was tied up in a sex dungeon and being tortured by two psycho lesbian brits. The little brat had already made it clear that she would twist her in all kinds of ways before they were through here, so it was hard to imagine anything worsening that situation. She might as well try to get her licks in when she could.

She hissed at the nip on her ear, though that little bit of pain wasn’t what stuck with her. Missing something? Missing what? She’d been a little busy being tortured to suss out too much beyond that, but for the life of her, she had no idea what the woman was talking about.

Mind games, probably. Whatever the case, she wasn’t given long to ponder, as the woman came in and promptly tried to twist her nipple off. It wouldn’t have been a pleasant sensation if she’d just done it raw, but after all she’d went through, the electricity working all her nerves? Or it felt like someone was putting hot coals on her sensitive skin, and there was no containing the howls that came out.

Even with that, though, she couldn't help but have a hoarse, harsh chuckle at one thing. ”Friends?” She managed a few laughs before the screams took over again. ”What fucking friends? Crazy bitches, like anyone else would put up with you cunts!”

No, she wasn’t one to talk. Didn’t make her wrong, though. From what she’d sussed out so far from these two, they didn’t exactly have a booming social circle back in England or Scotland or wherever-the-fuck they came from. In fact, she got the impression that they spent their days not unlike the way she did, pushing her weight around in the locker room, getting what she wanted when she wanted it. Could almost respect that.

It was a small comfort, made even smaller when Storm came in and gave her another round of stiff shots to her stomach. She croaked after everyone, gasping and wheezing, struggling to fill her lungs only to have the wind knocked out of her once again. She was a sagging mess of a woman by the sixth punch, limply hanging from her bonds, dead on her feet.

And then came the knee to her pussy.

Wendy flopped to the floor when her captors tossed her away, her hands between her legs, kicking her feet and gritting her teeth while she dealt with the pain. It likely wouldn’t have made much of a difference either way, but she was easy prey when the two bitches descended on her, unable to stop Lyssa as she stuffed Storm’s soaking panties in her mouth.

Wendy’s muffled pleas filled the room as Storm descending her once again, filled her nostrils with her familiar scent, blotting out all her vision, covering her in a wet, musky blackness. As bad as that was, it grew even worse when Lyssa added her weight, pressing her skull into the floor with merciless pressure. Not a single whiff of air was going through, and the spots were already beginning to develop.

She kicked. She squirmed. She twitched. She flopped. She slumped. She laid still, so very still…

Out. Again.