Throes of Passion: Madeline Christiansen vs Cleo Hulbury

[Bare]

Cleo gasped and growled softly as she clawed at the mat, desperately trying to get free of Madeline's hold but it was in solidly against her, preventing Cleo from moving or even really crawling, a result of the weight that was Madeline's own body holding her down.

"Grrr... Damn you... just stop talking!" Cleo demanded though the need and escalating pleasure in her voice was undeniable. Soon enough however even trying to drag herself across the mat would become an impossibility for Cleo as Madeline's legs locked tighter across them, making it near impossible to move her hands.

Worse yet on top of the very real physical threat that was Madeline's body tangling further around her and constricting her movements more and more with each passing second along with her mouth and tongue probing deeper and deeper into her core Madeline was also taking sporadic breaks to continue her mind games and taunting, infuriating Cleo as much as she was being turned on.

"Ngh.... fuck! fuck! FUCK!" Cleo shouted, each word rising with volume and urgency as she felt her libido climbing ever higher with each intentional lap of her foe's tongue, every increase in pressure on her glutes, and every warm vibration caused by Madeline's hum coursing through her body, it was all leading to one thing. "Ahhhhh FUCK FUCK FUCKKKKKKKK!" Cleo shouted as she orgasmed to Madeline's hold!

[Lightman]

The harder Cleo thrashed beneath her, the deeper Madeline dug herself in, weight pressed firmly down, her limbs threaded like roots around the opponent’s frame. Every claw against the mat was futile; every gasp of resistance only music to her ears. Madeline’s lips curved against the heat of her rival, savouring the mounting desperation coursing through her, knowing it was hers to orchestrate. She squeezed tighter, thighs cinching around Cleo’s arms, a serpentine coil that robbed the woman of movement. Every whimper, every gasp poured into her ears, intoxicating fuel that only sharpened the dominance already painted across her lips.

“Stop talking?” Madeline purred into Cleo’s folds, letting her tongue linger in a slow swirl before pulling back just enough to breathe the words against her flesh, “Oh darling, this is the best conversation you’ve ever had. And you’re far too lovely like this, trembling for me~.” The English Rose sank back in immediately, tongue and lips working with deliberate cruelty, her legs coiling tighter until Cleo’s arms were little more than pinned ornaments beneath her.

Every moan, every ragged curse spilling from Cleo’s throat fed her hunger. Her voice rose to a crescendo, ragged and furious but betraying her lust with every syllable. Madeline relished the rising pitch, the tremor that built with each calculated lap of her tongue, each squeeze of her thighs, each hum that buzzed through sensitive flesh. Madeline tasted the climax before it hit, the tightening of hips, the violent shudder that rolled down through the compatriot’s body. She pressed harder, unrelenting, until Cleo broke in a cry that filled the ring. Madeline took everything, lips sealed, tongue buried deep as she drank her foe down. Sweet, sharp, and utterly intoxicating, it was one of the reasons she was here, and to claim such a victory over a compatriot made it taste all the sweeter.

When at last the spasms ebbed, Madeline loosened her coil and slipped gracefully out from beneath the shuddering compatriot. She moved with calm certainty, crawling like a predator before mounting her weight astride Cleo’s back. She pressed her chest flush against the woman’s spine. One hand snaked beneath her top, possessively claiming the soft weight of her breast, kneading it with an unhurried dominance, massaging with deliberate pressure as her other arm snaked around Cleo’s throat, lifting her head back. Madeline chuckled darkly before crashing her lips onto hers in a bruising kiss, forcing Cleo to taste every single bit of herself as her own juices began to transfer inside.

Her abs and chest rubbed firmly against Cleo’s back, slow and relentless. Each subtle grind of her hips and each kiss was calculated to keep the fire stoked, to deny her rival any chance of cooling off. Her hand kneaded, teased, rolling a nipple between fingers as her tongue invaded Cleo’s mouth with utter command. Layered movements, physical dominance woven together with intimate corruption.

[Bare]

Cleo groaned softly as she finally finished riding out the remaining wave of passion and ecstasy that was the forced orgasms from Madeline's manipulation of her lower body. "Ugh... mghhhhh..." Cleo let out moaning and shuddering in the aftermath, trying to get her bearings together and push her palms against the mat to lift herself up.

Unfortunately however Madeline was not about to give Cleo the chance to get back up or even take a breath as the brunette crawled on top of Cleo from behind, draping her large breasts upon Cleo's back, her legs curling around Cleo's own and arms encircling her own before Madeline's hands latched onto her breasts. "Ngh! Damn you!" Cleo hissed out in a mix of pain and renewed pleasure.

Feeling an arm wrap around her throat Cleo would then choke slightly and grunt as her neck and head was yanked backwards, forcing her to look upwards, more than enough for Madeline to come down and plant her lips on Cleo's own! "Mphhhh!" Cleo groaned out, twisting and resisting to the best of her ability against Madeline's hold.

All in all it was a vicious hold, one that both would weaken Cleo and build up her libido. Not to mention humiliating her... However Cleo refused to bend to Madeline, to let the woman have her way with her again. No way in hell would she be allowed to make Cleo orgasm twice! Feeling the taste of herself on Madeline's tongue especially was the thing that incensed her the most, but also gave her an idea.... Opening her mouth Cleo would then bite down hard onto Madeline's lips!

[Lightman]

Madeline could feel every tremor running through Cleo’s body as she pressed down from above, her weight and warmth suffocating any hope of recovery. She purred low in her throat, almost pleased at how deliciously vulnerable the British model still was, her palms sliding across the swell of Cleo’s breasts as though she were playing with spoils already won. “Damn me?” she murmured against the nape of her neck, her voice velvet over steel. “Darling, you have no idea how much worse I intend to be. Curse me as much as you'd like, but you cannot deny me.” Her legs entwined more firmly with Cleo’s own, spreading her out helpless on the mat while she toyed with her chest with deliberate cruelty.

The English Rose’s arm tightened across Cleo’s throat, just enough to arch her backwards, just enough to make her gasp and strain while her own lips hovered a moment before capturing Cleo’s mouth. The kiss was deep, possessive, everything about it a declaration that control was hers. Madeline pressed into her rival, her tongue invading, tasting, pushing that same sweet taint of climax back onto Cleo’s tongue. She relished the muffled groans and protests that only spurred her onward. “There you are…” she whispered between shallow breaths, “…tasting yourself… quite the delicacy, isn’t it?”

Her grin widened against Cleo’s mouth, the kiss deepening even as her hands kneaded greedily at the compatriot’s breasts, tugging and teasing until she could feel the heat rising again through her foe’s taut frame. The humiliation of being handled like this was as much her weapon as the grip itself, and Madeline knew every second of prolonged closeness eroded Cleo’s resistance. “I can keep you like this all night.” She taunted softly, her lips brushing Cleo’s as she spoke, her words punctuated by the soft press of her chest sliding deliberately against her back.

Then came the sudden snap of pain, sharp and hot as teeth clamped hard into her lower lip. Madeline’s eyes narrowed instantly, her smirk breaking into a low hiss as she tasted iron on her tongue. For the first time, she broke the kiss, releasing Cleo’s throat and chest as she drew back. Her hand rose to her mouth, fingertips brushing across the faint bead of blood. Her lips curled once again as she licked the copper taste from her lip. “Biting already? How very animal of you...Though I do adore it when my prey has some fight.”

Her weight shifted back as she uncoiled from Cleo, giving her foe the space she had clawed for, though her gaze never wavered. Dark eyes lingered on the compatriot’s frame, drinking in the signs of strain, of heat, of fury. Madeline chuckled lowly, the sound sultry and sharp all at once. “I hope that was worth it,” she said, her voice like velvet cut with glass. “Because now, sweet Cleo, you’ve given me an appetite.”

[Bare]

Cleo was caught in quite the predicament right now. Being forced into having an orgasm and then immediately afterwards being caught in another hold, pulling Cleo's body taught against Madeline's own while trapping her in a searing kiss. "Mmmmph... Nghph....." Cleo moaned out in turn into Madeline's mouth, the pleasure being difficult to ignore even after having been forced into orgasm just moments ago.

However Cleo refused to be done in so easily by Madeline, orgasm or not she would make Madeline play for what she had done... even if it required fighting a bit dirty in the process, hence the rather brutal bite to Madeline's lips! Thankfully it had the desired effect and forced Madeline to lean back and away from Cleo' mouth. "You'll find that I can get very visceral when needed." Cleo spat out indignantly while taking the chance Madeline gave her as the brunette backed off from her.

Immediately clawing forward on the mat and scrambling out from under the woman. Tucking forward and rolling to get further distance from the English rose Cleo would end up on one knee with another foot under her, looking over her shoulder with an intense glare at her opponent. "That apetite... is nothing... compared... to mine!" Cleo hissed out angrily as she got to her feet, fists clenched in anticipation, ready to clash with Madeline once again.

[Lightman]

Madeline’s lips still tingled from the sting of Cleo’s bite, the faint metallic taste of blood clinging to her tongue as she drew in a slow breath. The defiance had been vicious, almost desperate, and that made it delicious. Watching Cleo struggle, body trembling from pleasure yet clawing for control, sent a spark of admiration through the English Rose’s chest. She brushed her thumb across her lip and smiled, a languid, knowing curve that only deepened the tension between them. “*sigh* I suppose visceral suits you.” She murmured, her voice low and honeyed, “But it makes you forget your manners."

She let Cleo scramble away, deliberately not chasing her immediately. Instead, Madeline rose with a dancer’s poise, pushing herself up to her knees, her chest rising and falling with controlled rhythm. The ache along her body was a pleasant reminder of the chaos they had created, and her eyes followed Cleo’s every movement as she rolled clear, the distance between them thick with heat and hostility. “Run if you need to.” Madeline said softly, almost teasingly. “But we both know you’ll only come back for more.”

When Cleo turned with that glare, the feral spark still blazing despite her exhaustion, Madeline met it with calm amusement. Her smile never wavered, even as she rose fully to her feet, her hair cascading across her shoulders like a silken frame to the quiet danger in her expression. “Hmhmm…Is that so?” The English Rose echoed, her tone a purr that carried through the air. “Careful with such words, darling. I always finish what I start, don't know about you, judging from what I've seen.” Her hands lifted slightly, beckoning Cleo forward, fingers curling with deliberate invitation. “Come then. Let’s see which of us leaves the table satisfied~.”

Madeline shifted her stance subtly, her feet sliding into measured balance, the predatory calm settling over her once again. Every inch of her demeanour spoke of control, her body a coiled promise of grace and violence. The game had turned back to equal footing, yet Madeline’s confidence radiated like heat from her skin.

[Bare]

Cleo's words a moment ago were not just words or a taunt for her. It was the truth. Cold, hard, absolute truth. Hunger didn't even begin to truly describe how she was feeling at the moment in all honesty. Voracious was the right word. Now more than ever, more than anything else she wanted nothing more but to exact revenge on Madeline and beat the woman down while forcing her to orgasm for what she had done to her... Cleo would not rest until Madeline was broken.

Glowering at Madeline still while raising her fist up she would narrow her eyes slightly at the brunette. "I'll leave you with nothing but scraps you fool." Cleo hissed out, her fists tightened to the point that her nails were practically digging into her own palms from the tension within her body as she took several slow steps towards Madeline... Slow steps that turned to long, heavy strides as she then broke out into a run towards Madeline!

As she did so Cleo had a fist pulled back as if to go for a punch or other high strike at her opponent. Instead, Cleo would stop dead in her tracks right before Madeline, hoping to throw her off.

As she did so Cleo would then suddenly snap a leg up, going for what seemed to be a kick aimed at her foe's hips only to shift her foot higher to kick at Madeline's chest and with that same leg she'd pull back, alternating between feints and actual kicks in rapid succession to try and pelt Madeline with kick after kick!

[Lightman]

Madeline could see it the moment Cleo’s eyes locked onto hers. That kind of rage was not theatrical; it was raw, sharpened into purpose. The English Rose tilted her head slightly, studying her opponent with a mix of admiration and anticipation. Cleo was definitely not playing anymore. The air between them was heavy with intent, the ring feeling smaller, more suffocating, as that fury condensed into every movement Cleo made. Madeline’s smile deepened as she rolled her shoulders back, tilting her head slightly to one side as if in invitation. “There she is...” Madeline murmured under her breath, voice barely audible, though her smile never faltered. “...The woman I wanted all along~.”

Cleo’s words struck sharply. Her promise of ruin soaked in venom, and Madeline’s own pulse quickened. She did not retreat. Instead, she raised her chin, calm even as the compatriot closed in with that storming stride. “Scraps, is it?” She replied, her tone rich with irony. “You’ll find I am a rather expensive meal, darling.” Still, as Cleo broke into a run, Madeline’s muscles tensed, her posture lowering just enough to prepare for impact. The ferocity in her opponent’s eyes made it clear - this would not be graceful. It was going to be violent.

Madeline read the feint, her weight shifting back, anticipating the punch that never came. The sudden stop, the flicker of movement, it was all deception, and Cleo played it beautifully. In the next instant, a blur of motion cracked toward her. Madeline’s forearm shot up in defence, catching the initial kick near her ribs, but the next came faster, snapping toward her chest before she could reset. The sound of impact filled the air, a dull, punishing thud that forced the air from her lungs. “Tch-” she hissed, the sting vibrating through her torso as she stepped back, barely avoiding the third strike that whistled past her chin.

Madeline regrouped with a staggered breath, the ache radiating through her ribs reminding her that the pendulum had swung. Cleo was driving the pace now, each kick more relentless than the last, a testament to her power and precision. Even through the onslaught, the English Rose smiled, adrenaline thrumming in her veins. “Good, good~.” She said between breaths, her voice rich with dark delight. Her eyes gleamed, sharp and alive, as she steadied herself, ready to meet Cleo’s fury head-on once more.

[Bare]

Cleo was fired up now more than she had been all match, absolutely intent on coming back in this match against Madeline and not only avenging her orgasm but showing the brunette exactly what Cleo was capable of. Coming at her fast and furiously with a barrage of kicks directed at Madeline's way, hoping to bombard the woman and overwhelm her defense before she could properly respond.

Out of the initial assault however only one blow truly connected as Cleo wanted it too. Thankfully however that kick that did connect was the one Cleo wanted to land the most and it seemed as if it did the job she had wanted in blasting Madeline in the stomach and by the looks of it knocking the air out of her opponent a bit which was perfect for Cleo.

Stepping back only for a moment Cleo would step right back in towards Madeline, not offering the woman even a second to try and reclaim her oxygen. Bringing her leg around for a low kick at Madeline's leg Cleo would then drop down slightly, bending her knee while bringing the leg she had used to kick with and putting it back on the mat, bending a bit to try and lower herself and swing her fist forward for a straight punch into Madeline's hurt stomach with a straight punch!

If that managed to connect then Cleo would pull her fist back while striding forward suddenly, and moving to lean back, sweeping her leg up as she did so bringing her foot up high for a near vertical high kick aimed to smack right into Madeline's jaw to try and knock the woman backwards!

[Lightman]

The change in Cleo was palpable before the storm broke. Her eyes burned with raw intent, her movements charged with a kind of feral focus that made the air between them hum. The English Rose raised her guard, reading the rhythm, yet the onslaught that came was unrelenting. A blur of limbs and sharp precision tore through the distance, forcing her on the defensive. Each kick lashed out with venom, testing her balance, her timing, her endurance. Then came the one that landed, a crushing blow to her midsection that stole the air from her lungs and bent her slightly forward, the shock echoing through her ribs as her breath hitched.

There was no pause, no reprieve. Cleo closed the space again before she could fully recover, the follow-up low kick slamming against her thigh, jarring her stance. The sharp crack of contact made her leg shudder, and pain shot through her core as the next strike - a perfectly placed punch -drove into the same bruised stomach. The air left her in a harsh gasp, her body folding despite her will, hand dropping instinctively to guard her midsection. Her composure wavered for a heartbeat, her body slow to answer her mind’s demand to move.

The final blow came clean. A rising front kick arced up and caught her square beneath the jaw, the impact snapping her head back and sending her sprawling across the mat. For a moment, the lights above swam in her vision, the dull ache spreading through her chest and neck as she rolled onto her side, one hand clutching her jaw. The throbbing pain was deep, but beneath it, the curve of a smile crept across her lips. The taste of blood sat faintly on her tongue, metallic and warm, a reminder that Cleo had drawn more than just breath from her.