Madeline Christiansen vs. Ishigami Yuto - Thorns into Roses

[Lightman]

Madeline’s smirk deepened as she felt the hesitant warmth of his lips against her foot. She had expected some level of resistance—part of the fun was in watching him struggle with the very thing he wanted. Her toes curled ever so slightly, brushing against his cheek before she pulled her foot back just a fraction, barely out of reach. “Of course I did,” she mused, her voice carrying that same silken amusement, “but I expect you to go above and beyond, not to strive for satisfactory.”

She maintained the armbar with perfect precision, her legs cinched around his trapped limb without exerting full pressure—just enough to remind him of her control. The moment he hesitated, she gave the slightest measured squeeze, just enough to make him wince and redirect his attention back where she wanted it. “Don’t get distracted now,” she cooed, tilting her head as if she were genuinely concerned for him. “You’re not trying to disappoint me, are you?”

The look in his eyes was all the confirmation she needed. Even as he pouted, even as he pretended this was something he had no choice in, she could see the shift in his demeanour. The way his lips pressed a little firmer, the way each kiss grew more deliberate. “Mmm, see?” she purred, shifting her foot just enough to encourage him further. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Better than this facade of reluctance you tried to pull.”

She sighed, feigning a sort of amused boredom as she flexed her grip on his arm ever so slightly, as if deciding what to do next. “Now, obviously, you are not as skilled, but I’m sure you’re smart enough. Figure this out.” she murmured, her foot pressing lightly against his lips once more. Just a tease, just a test. “What comes next? What do I want you to do here? You know.”

[Lico]

Even with all that kissing, Madeline was still holding onto Yuto's arm. She wasn't satisfied yet from the look of it, prompting him to do more for a chance of freedom. Such a tough customer. He paused his kissing for a moment, trying to figure out what she wanted next. Her foot still pressed against his lips was the hint, which didn't leave him with too many options.

He decided to lick her toes next, and thought of something else as well. If above and beyond was what she demanded, then this ought to be the answer. Starting from the big toe, after running his tongue around it, he sucked the digit gently and licked it some more. The boy repeated this on each of her toes, then moved down to lap her tongue on her sole. Whatever embarrassment he felt before had been gradually vaporing into thin air, replaced with more excitement.

A bulge was forming on his pants, which wasn't really noticeable to the audience yet, but Madeline? She had the front row seat even if her legs might block the view. It'd be only a matter of time until she found out. Not that he really cared if she did. Sooner or later things were bound to get spicier between them after all.

[Lightman]

Madeline reclined slightly on the mat, propped up by one elbow, as she let her leg drape across Yuto’s chest like a velvet chain. Her foot remained right where he’d left it—slick with his obedience, glistening from each deliberate flick of his tongue. She felt the warmth of his breath still lingering between her toes, and her gaze flicked down at him through her lashes, heavy-lidded and faintly amused.

“So that’s what it takes…” Her voice, honeyed and soft, firmly reminded him who held the leash. She flexed her foot against his cheek lightly, not in violence, but in command—subtle, refined. “You were not fooling anyone, my dear. Even your body knows better than to lie.”

The growing bulge in his pants didn’t escape her notice—impossible to miss from her vantage point, despite the positioning of her legs. A knowing smile spread across her face as she registered this unmistakable evidence of his arousal. “This is what you wanted all along. And all I want…is honesty.” she teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief. While she could keep Yuto there for as long as she wanted, it would eventually get boring. In one fluid motion, Madeline would shift herself up, bringing herself to a kneeling position, with his arm still in her grasp and her foot pressed on his face harder. After grabbing onto the other arm, the English Rose shifted her weight, rolling onto her back with him in tow. She’d quickly secured control of his wrist with both hands, all the while that sole remained on his face.

“So, now that we’ve moved away from all pretences,” she whispered, applying just enough pressure on his arms and shoulders. “Indulge. No more pretending, no more resistance. Do as you truly desire.” Madeline would say, while her other foot gently tapped onto that bulging crotch of his to buttress that point further, no doubt straining underneath his shorts.

[Lico]

Yuto could feel himself getting increasingly flustered. Madeline was right that he couldn't fool anyone, or at least, not her, and not those who had been watching his matches. It's only a question of when. He looked at her, embarrassed, but also not denying anything as she noticed the proof of his excitement.

As Madeline shifted herself, Yuto gasped in surprise as he felt her foot pressing against his face harder. While the armbar was released, she now had both his arms in her grasps, still completely in control as ever. Her other foot then found his bulge, drawing a quiet moan onto the sole on his face, his body squirmed a little in response. He could feel his shaft throbbed through his pants. Her words might sound like an encouragement, but somewhere in the back of his mind, it also sounded like an order, one which he couldn't disobey.

"Mmmhhh..." his lower half wriggled, slightly rubbing against the foot between his legs, while he sniffed and kissed the other one.

[Lightman]

Madeline watched with satisfaction as the truth settled over Yuto’s features—the futility of his pretense, the acceptance of what they both knew was happening. His expression—that delicious mixture of embarrassment and undeniable arousal—confirmed what she had sensed all along. Now, the last threads of Yuto’s pretense unravelled before her eyes. There was something deliciously intimate about witnessing someone’s façade crumble, especially when it revealed desires they’d tried to conceal. The audience already knew when it came to Yuto, but she alone was experiencing the full surrender of his resistance, the admission without words that this was exactly what he’d wanted all along.

With practiced precision, she pressed her foot more firmly against his face, feeling his warm breath quicken against her skin. She observed with clinical detachment as her other foot found the hardness between his legs, rewarded with the vibration of his moan against her sole. The squirm that rippled through his body was impossible to miss, a physical testament to his mounting arousal. His throbbing response beneath her foot registered as merely another data point in her complete domination, another surrender to add to the collection.

His quiet moan elicited no reaction from her, her expression remaining coolly observant as his hips began their subtle, needy movements against her foot. Madeline remained perfectly still, allowing him to work against her, offering no assistance or encouragement beyond just being there. She noted with clinical interest his methodical alternation between sniffing and kissing her foot. Only this time, she offered nothing in return—no words of praise, no sounds of pleasure, nothing to indicate whether his efforts pleased her.

While he writhed and sought stimulation, she remained present in the moment, the centre of gravity around which his desperation orbited. Her breathing remained steady, controlled, in stark contrast to Yuto’s increasingly ragged inhalations. The Englishwoman simply watched, emerald eyes unblinking, as he indulged himself against her foot—his actions now fully his own choice, his desire laid bare without her needing to command or coerce. This was the ultimate victory: not forcing submission, but where Yuto would choose to submit of his own accord, where he would reveal his true self without prompting.

[Lico]

With Madeline seemingly content to leave Yuto to his own device for the time being, he's slowly sinking deeper into the sea of lust. His hips now rocking back and forth, humping her foot, while he inhaled the scent of her other sole deeper as well. Even without her doing anything else to him, the boy was falling further and further under her spell. The more he's indulging himself, the less he's caring about everything else surrounding him. The crowd's cheering only sounded like distant echoes as he's too occupied with his own arousal.

As his member was reaching its full vigor, his movement was also getting more eager, and his expression was also turning a little silly. Just like a puppy in heat, he kept sniffing, licking, and humping her as if he already forgot that he's in a match. Her feet truly conquered his body and melted his mind as he's working towards his own defeat.

"Nnnhhh...! Hnnnggg...!"

[Lightman]

Madeline remained perfectly still, an island of composure amid Yuto’s growing storm of desire. She watched as his hips began a more deliberate rhythm against her foot, the mounting urgency in his movements telling her everything about his deteriorating self-control. His face pressed deeper against her sole, his inhalations growing more desperate, more primal with each passing moment. Watching someone surrender so completely to their baser instincts was fascinating, especially when she had orchestrated that surrender through her dominance. The crowd’s reactions registered dimly in her awareness, but her focus remained entirely on the boy—monitoring the way his consciousness seemed to narrow down to nothing but the sensations she was allowing him to experience.

The transformation was remarkable to witness—his hardness now fully apparent against her foot as his grinding took on a more frantic quality. His expression had shifted into something almost comical in its abandonment, a mask of pure animal need that bore little resemblance to the determined competitor who had faced her earlier. The subtle twitches beneath her foot, the rhythm of his movements growing more erratic—these signs were unmistakable to her experienced eye. She could feel the heat radiating through the fabric of his pants, the pulses that signalled his approaching limit. Yet she maintained her statue-like composure, neither encouraging nor discouraging, simply existing as the object of his desperate attention while he did all the work himself.

His stifled sounds of pleasure—those choked utterances—broke the silence between them but elicited no change in her expression. The quivering in his thighs, the increasing pressure of his face against her foot, the subtle arching of his back—all pointed to the inevitable conclusion of this match. The power of that realisation that she reduced him to this state, with no serious input on her part, hung in the air between them, unspoken but undeniable, as tangible as the sweat beading on his forehead as he worked himself toward the ultimate surrender.

[Lico]

Yuto could feel himself getting closer and closer. He thrust his lower half harder, and only pulled his face away a little from Madeline's foot when he needed to breathe. Otherwise it looked like he had got acquainted too well with her sole he didn't want to leave it for more than five seconds. Madeline not saying or doing anything made it a little awkward but he had gone past the point of caring by now, simply driven by his growing need for a release.

"Mmmpphh... Mmmhhff...!"

The signs began to show. His body tensed up a little, his breathing getting even heavier. His eyes rolled while he picked up his humping pace shamelessly. Even the crowds were encouraging him to finish himself. The boy was almost at the peak of ecstasy, but whether Madeline would remain still or not was a question nobody knew the answer.

[Lightman]

Madeline watched as Yuto’s movements grew more desperate against her foot. His brief moments of separation from her sole—those precious seconds where he pulled away just enough to gasp for air—told her everything about how thoroughly he had surrendered to his desires. The silence she maintained was deliberate, a void she created for him to fill with his mounting desperation. Every thrust, every ragged breath was a testament to how completely her passive dominance had conquered him.

His muffled sounds against her skin vibrated through her. Those barely contained exclamations, marking his descent into pure physical need. She observed the telltale signs with experienced eyes—the tension building in his muscles, the increasingly erratic rhythm of his breathing, the subtle tremors beginning to course through his frame. The crowd’s encouragement registered dimly in her awareness, but her focus remained entirely on monitoring his approach to the precipice.

Just as his pace reached its most frantic, his eyes beginning to roll back in anticipation of release, Madeline finally broke her silence. “Stop.” The Englishwoman commanded, her voice cutting through his haze of arousal like a blade of ice. The single word carried absolute authority, brooking no argument or hesitation. In the same fluid motion, she pulled her feet away and planted them against his chest, pushing him firmly onto his back with a forceful shove.

[Lico]

Stop.

Madeline's voice was clear despite Yuto being already too deep into his lust. However, his mind had to pause for a moment to process the command. Stop? Now? Why?

His body did froze for a moment, and as Madeline shoved him with her foot, he stumbled backwards, gasping and yelping as he landed on his ass. The confusion was written all over his face, while his bulge was throbbing in frustration. The boy was still trying to catch up with what happened that he just ended up starring at Madeline in a seated position, bewildered. He was so close, and yet so far.

"U-ugh..." he eventually would roll onto his hands and knees to try getting back on his feet, his confusion replaced with frustration.