Unexpected Domino Effect - Brielle & Domino.

[Afterhoursclub]

Almost like an engine suddenly losing all steam, Brielle's resistance simply... broke. She had reached her limit; No, she was way past that already. Burning what little stamina she had left, only managing to barely cling to consciousness... if this could be considered that at all.

She was trapped, completely entangled around the model's figure like a wet towel- her one free arm hung limp in the air like a noodle. There were no more snarky responses, only her ragged breathing and the rise and fall of her chest. The fatigue had completely taken over by now... the unusual position in which her arm was kept strained behind Domino's back had left the upper portion of her body completely numb... Her torso, twisted and stretched out in the submission hold, continued to be crushed by the unforgiving grip of his fingers digging deep into her abs. Her shaky legs were not even trembling anymore, for any sense of conscious pain had completely vanished... the only reason she was still standing was Domino.

Her entire abdominal wall, one of the more alluring parts of her entire anatomy, had been turned into nothing more than a free canvas for Domino's fingers to dance across; smooth, flushed skin, fingertips tracing the contours of her muscles which kept twitching involuntarily, whether from a simple reflex or merely in reaction to the model’s touch as they reached deep into her navel.

"Mmmph..." A moan left Brielle's mouth, an exclamation of what her mind was feeling right at that moment, a mixture of stimuli that only got more intense as Domino flexed the arm hooked around her head, and their lips pressed together in a tight, steamy kiss... The push made Brielle wince, but this gesture was soon overtaken by the fleeting confusion drawing on her gaze... she frowned as they stuck together, the model indulging himself in the goth's taste... while Brielle did little to present any resistance, with her head moving slowly following the man's own movements as he maintained the dominant and one-sided kiss.

The goth's eyelids felt heavy.

The model's hand drifted lower once again, traveling from the slick skin covering her abs down to her tight pants until it was able to cover the lower portion of her hip safely hooking over the base. Sending a warm feeling down onto her skin, just before the stroking motion began... slow and calculated, sending a wide range of signals across Brielle. Her hips began to respond to the movement, going up and down as a result... her legs started to shake again, she tried to bring them together, but the positioning for the abdominal stretch prevented them from doing so.

A few more moans came out of the trapped gal, but these were drowned, muffled deep within Domino's mouth, who kept the passionate kiss the entire time.

[CyanDimitrik]

Domino has been experiencing no shortage of unusual encounters in this federation of varying stripes. And this stripe definitely stands out. He would later reflect on how atypical this would be of his normal behavior - not nearly so sensually aggressive. But under the right conditions, with the right goading, with the right signals, it seemed to activate something in him and had to pursue. And Brielle was the very definition of playing hard-to-get - somewhere between play and defiance. Confusing, mixed, and in the end, intoxicating.

He felt the need to dominate her. To assert that over her. The only variable was how battered, worn down, and restrained her body would be. And this seems to be the result. She refused to give him the submission he demanded, and chose instead to bear out the torture until she could no longer mount any kind of resistance. But her body wouldn't deny him that submission; not from the trembling of her defenseless abdominals reacting to his touch, to her helpless lower body now the focus of his efforts.

And make no mistake - this is effort. This isn't casual. This isn't relaxed. The forward and back stroking is made with purpose, meeting her involuntary jerking with tighter motions, tracing where she's most sensitive. He feels her captive leg trembling under his, her thigh quaking under a new stress, new duress. Feeling her body react to him, her mouth hum against his in that rich, defeatedly passionate series of moans; it all makes him burn hotter for her in this moment. His tongue seeks out hers, wet contact stroking together. The hand works her lower half faster, heart pounding behind her shoulder, beating against her like a drum.

[Afterhoursclub]

The scent of mutual perspiration, the tight contact between their slick figures, his lips completely devouring hers almost passionately, and that constant stroking across her nether regions... it all sent a myriad of signals to her clouded mind. Signals that slowly paved the way for more primal desires and needs to take over as she spent more time trapped in the excruciating hold, lacking the strength to mount any further resistance.

Her pulse quickened until it matched his. Her trembling hips yielded almost involuntarily, and his hand followed the same rhythm, moving in unison as he continued that intoxicating massage. The fatigue from having her abs continuously stretched out took a seat back, overshadowed by intense stimuli coming from her more sensitive areas.

Her breathing grew ragged, and her cheeks flushed, taking on a reddish hue that rivaled that of her battered abdomen, while beads of sweat continued to run down her features. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

Brielle wasn't a stranger to such scenarios; she was a firm believer that whoever rose victorious at the end of a contested bout should receive all the praise, gratification, and recognition that such a conquest deserved... together with the rewards that came with said accomplishment, regardless of which side of the equation she found herself in. And the position that she was currently in was nothing more than a live example of that very same dogma. By now... after the match, after the impromptu encounter right here in the locker rooms, devoid of any live audience... and just within the intimacy of these very same walls... she had accepted that fact. She was being treated as such, a prize... a conquest that was only attained after the last of her defenses had been toppled.

"Hmmph...!" Another moan, a longer one, suffocated by Domino's tongue.

Brielle brought her hand up, gripping the arm around her neck tightly, her nails digging into the model's skin. More as a reflex than an actual escape attempt. She frowned, closing her eyes entirely... She could feel it... she was almost there, her body was almost there-