Typical of men

[APlaying]

As she was released, Clarissa collapsed onto the mat, dizzy, embarrassed, and limp. She just wanted to feel the relief of freedom once and for all, but even if she wanted to escape, she didn't have the energy to move. But Blake grabbed her hair to force her to her feet, which alarmed the blonde. "NOOOooo!!!" The Brazilian shrieked in agony, grabbing Blake's wrist to ease the tension in her scalp.

As she was turned over, Clarissa's head snapped back, staring at the ceiling for a second as she was lifted. "AAAhh!!! AAAAHHH!" Clarissa let out a loud moan, her sexy body subjected to painful tension in her back and sides from the agonizing stretching.

Clarissa's face contorted as Blake's fingers continued to graze her, the sensation sending shivers down her spine. She tried to speak, but her voice was barely a whisper, a mere murmur. Blake reached the area of ​​her plump crotch, which he began to stimulate, causing Clarissa's squeals to turn into moans of torturous pleasure. A wave of shame washed over her; her body betrayed her, responding to Blake's touch.

She knew she should be fighting, but her body seemed to have other plans. "Y-you..." she stammered, her voice breaking with emotion. "I... I...!!"

[Weonna]

Blake didn't deign to acknowledge her stammered, broken speech.

Instead, his grip tightened further, lifting her higher off the ground until her spine screamed in protest. He adjusted his angle, bending her back even more painfully, transforming the torture rack from a mere challenge into an agonizing ordeal.

"I said, speak up,"

he commanded, his voice cutting through her haze of pain and shame.

His free hand, which had been teasing her, now began to work with ruthless efficiency. He increased the pace of his rubbing, his fingers dancing a cruel rhythm against her most sensitive spot!

Once Blake felt her weight go slack in his arms and sensed her total surrender. He released his hold on her legs and shoved her off his shoulders with a final, dismissive motion. Gravity did the rest. Clarissa would fall backwards, but she didn't land on her back.

Blake had positioned the throw perfectly as she would instead crash face-first into the canvas with a sickening thud!

[APlaying]

Clarissa's eyes began to roll upward as she started to drool from the pain and the contact on her private parts, her mind becoming a hazy mess. Instead of screaming, Clarissa slowly became a panting rag doll on Blake's shoulders, her private parts becoming soaked.

Noticing Clarissa's complete surrender, Blake lowered her from his shoulders, and the Brazilian's body fell like a dead weight to the mat, bouncing a little before lying completely inert face down, her hair completely covering her face.

[Weonna]

Blake stood over her, a smirk of absolute conquest on his face as he watched her inert form. He let the silence hang in the air for a moment, admiring his handiwork.

"One last move to put you to sleep for good,"

he announced to the empty room, his voice echoing with cold finality.

He reached down, grabbing a thick handful of her sweat-soaked hair and yanking her head up. Clarissa's limp body offered no resistance as he dragged her to the center of the mat. He positioned her bent forward, forcing her head down between his legs. From there, he hooked both of her arms, pulling them inward and upward so her limbs were trapped tightly against her own body, effectively "packaging" her and preventing any chance of escape.

Next, Blake would grip the back of her thighs with his hands and lifted her up, flipping her completely upside down so she was held vertically, her head pointing directly toward the mat!

"It's night time, princess,"

he whispered down at her, his voice a mixture of contempt and satisfaction. He held her suspended in the air for a few heartbeats, savoring the moment of total control. Then, with a final, brutal act, he dropped straight back into a seated position, driving her head straight down so the top of her head and upper shoulders hit the mat first!

THUD!

The impact was sickeningly final, a conclusive thud that echoed the absolute end of her resistance. Blake remained seated, his grip like a vise on her thighs, holding her in the humiliating, inverted position to savor the aftershock of his victory. A cruel, predatory grin spread across his face as he watched her legs go limp and splay wide apart from the force of the landing. His eyes, dark and possessive, immediately zeroed in on the prize now fully exposed to his gaze. He took his time, his stare openly roaming over the intimate treasure nestled between her thighs, appreciating the unobstructed view of her most private area.

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