Trojan Horseplay – Storm’s Revenge

[hamish1024]

Storm savoured the delicious pause that followed her ultimatum. Wendy would be contemplating her fate, fretting at the prospect of the big, broad, waggling arse that was threatening her face. This is what Storm wanted more than anything else – vindication. Hopefully, the hateful Southerner would be feeling deep, deep regret, and weighing up whether to – OW!!

“Fuck! Argrh!!” the brunette howled as teeth suddenly, unexpectedly sank into her skin. The sensitive flesh of her meaty round rear wasn’t pierced, but it still proved to be several long seconds of sharp pain, an unpleasant surprise to undercut her moment of superiority. “Biting!? Fucking animal!” she hissed, squirming forward a step, wincing as she rubbed her abused butt cheek. No blood, but a ring of red teeth marks to adorn her exquisite ass for the foreseeable future.

Lyssa let out an involuntary guffaw as she kept hold of Wendy, reining the kneeling girl in. She couldn’t help but laugh at her partner’s misfortune, but she was more amused by the implication – Wendy wasn’t taking the easy way out, and was going to get it, bad. This is exactly what Lyssa wanted; hell, the little blue-haired sadist wouldn’t have given the victim the choice. Now the Brits were on completely the same wavelength – Wendy was going to get the maximum abuse. Lyssa was always up for random cruelty, but for Storm, she needed a righteous cause to justify her anger, and now she had one, in spades.

“Wrong answer,” the Scot spat bitterly, and then demonstrated how wrong, by suddenly stepping back and just shoving her thong-clad ass back into Wendy’s helpless face. Hard and hateful, Storm began the stinkface with grim determination, itching to give her foe a nasty lesson. Almost immediately, the aggrieved Scot had worked her ass firmly back onto Wendy’s face, feeling the Southerner’s nose slot between her butt cheeks, pushing hard up against her g-string. Good. This wasn’t a humiliation move now, this was full-on punishment. Storm would grab Wendy’s left wrist in her left hand, stopping the victim from interfering with the stinkface. This left Storm’s right hand free to grab Wendy’s head, and guide her features ever deeper into her roughly grinding rear.

Storm gave a brief sigh of satisfaction. This felt good. She knew she was a little sweaty down there from her punching bag workout, and this would be adding to Wendy’s torment. Also good.

Lyssa, for once, was pleasantly quiet and patient, manipulating her hold on Wendy to make sure any avenue of escape for air was quickly shut down, edging the victim deeper and deeper into her partner’s derriere.

“Feral. Fucking. Bitch,” Storm hissed, continuing to punish her foe in the kneeling ass-smother. The Scot wasn’t playing, and would work the horrible hold for a good minute or more, just going for maximum suffering as she worked through her anger at being bitten.

[BlackAkuma]

Yeah, that was probably a bad idea. Certainly. She was in a bad position, here, trapped between a rock and a hard place, and there was absolutely zero chance of fighting her way out of it. The absolute last thing she needed for her health and safety was to further antagonize the already sufficiently antagonized Storm, when she was totally at her mercy. Her mind rang the warning alarms as she did it, trying to tell her just how much off an epically bad idea this was.

But she just could not bring herself to care. The sound of Storm’s squeal as she bit down, the feel of her flesh on her teeth, knowing that she’d managed to hurt the Scotswoman even now, all of it made the decision worthwhile. She had no regrets.

At least, that was what she continued to tell herself as Storm backed up and rammed her ass in Wendy’s face, hammering her with a full force stinkface that had the Backstage Bully screaming between her cheeks. She shook her head and tried to struggle, but Lyssa’s hold held fast, keeping her in place no matter which way she twisted, riding down all her efforts.

Her face disappeared between the cheeks, sinking deeper with each passing second, going in so far that her eyes were covered and her mouth was forced open, making it impossible to take another bite if she’d even wanted to. Storm’s iron grip on her hair made turning her face away impossible, creating an unbreakable seal with her face and the sweaty skin.

At first, her biggest concern was the humiliation of it all, knowing that the bitches were recording this and having a good idea what they would try to do with it. As time went on, though, her oxygen starved lungs showed the real concern - she was growing weaker, her struggles growing faint with every passing seconds. Her angered roars turned to muted moans, as the energy fled her body, leaving her to spasm and twitch and twists as Lyssa kept her in place. She tried to struggle against it, to turn her head just enough for a quick puff of air, but even that was denied her. She wasn’t going anywhere that the tag team didn’t want her to.

All she could do for now was wait and suffer as the dark seeped into her mind, slowing her movements and turning her thoughts to mush. She was fading away with each passing second, and soon…

[hamish1024]

Storm sadistically ground the stinkface in, enjoying the fact that the cruel move was both insult and injury in one wicked package. Finally, her revenge on this feral bitch was starting to take shape. When Storm had been at her lowest, going through that gruelling ordeal at the hands of this white-haired monster, one thing had given her solace – the fact that, before long, the tables would be turned, and that Wendy would be the one with her nose wedged deep in scantily-clad ass crack. Now it was happening, and the high she was getting from righting that wrong was deeply satisfying.

In fact, the Scotswoman almost got carried away as she dished out the prolonged stinkface to her victim.

“I think we’ve found her limit, Storm,” Lyssa noted idly, as their victim became noticeably limp. Storm came out of her cruel reverie with a quiet sigh. Her partner was right, Wendy was on the verge of unconsciousness. That wouldn’t do at all.

“Oh, you’re not getting away that easily,” Storm chided, stepping forward to finally break the seal on the sweaty ass-smother, and freeing Wendy’s face from its fleshy prison. The brunette allowed herself a grimly satisfied sneer as she surveyed the state of her once-pretty foe – the buxom Southerner looked pleasingly breathless, bedraggled, and near-broken. But not actually broken – a situation the Scot planned to remedy.

“Good to know you can take a fair amount of ass to the face. I’m sure we’ll come back to that later!” Storm beamed. “But for now, let’s mix it up…” With a nod, Lyssa released her rough hold, for her partner to take over. Storm grabbed Wendy’s hair and started to yank the kneeling Southerner upright, but as she did so she fired a heavy knee into Wendy’s gut, doubling her over. Storm used this to force Wendy’s head between her thighs, trapping the victim in a bent-over standing headscissors.

“Ooh, nice view!” Lyssa beamed as Wendy was forcibly bent over in front of her. The smaller girl could not resist delivering a couple of sharp spanks to that upturned ass, eliciting a satisfying crack of slapped flesh. “Count yourself lucky I don’t bite it!” she smirked.

Wendy certainly didn’t look lucky, though, and her situation was about to get a whole lot worse. Storm grabbed her hands and pulled them up behind her back, positioning Wendy for the classic Pedigree manoeuvre. The muscular Scot readied herself for a moment, and then jumped up, pulling her victim up with her. Lyssa, watching closely, would time her jump as well, placing her hands on the base of Wendy’s spine, so she could add her own weight to the drop. The British girls would crash downwards, sending Wendy slamming face-first into the mats. Lyssa’s momentum assisted the immense weight of Storm and Wendy dropping floorward in the facebuster, Storm’s ass pressing hard onto the back of Wendy’s head, ensuring the hapless victim ate the mat with phenomenal force.

[BlackAkuma]

What was the worst thing about this? As embarrassing as it was, as much as she hated having the tables turned on, as crazy as it was that this was going down in her own damn apartment, what was driving her up the wall was that she had to admit that Storm was executing a pretty damn good stinkface. As a frequent user of the move, she could recognize the technique of it, knew there was more to it than just shaking your ass in someone’s face and calling it a day. You needed a good posture, with the feet planted, leaning back enough to use your weight to get the most out of it. You want to get it in really deep, ensuring that your victim’s face is all the way up those cheeks. Do it right, and the move is as dangerous as any submission. Maybe even worse than most.

Storm was ticking all the boxes. There was nowhere for Wendy’s face to go, no air she could steal. There might as well have been a plastic bag over her head. With her oxygen supplies running lower by the second, the strength was rapidly leaving her body, her limbs were growing weaker, and there was nothing she could do but accept the encroaching darkness…

It wouldn’t be that easy. Of course.

Storm pulled away and Wendy was dragged back to the waking world, just before she could take a plunge over the edge. She came back with long, heaving gasp, as she tried to suck in air to her tortured lungs, coughing and sputtering the whole way. ”Fuck! She cursed through her coughs. ”You fucks, you goddamn-” Her curses were cut off when Storm seized her hair, yanked her upright, and shot her knee deep in her stomach, knocking out what little air she’d managed to accumulate through her wheezes. Wendy’s head was shoved through the woman’s legs in the next instant, with strong thighs clamping around her head.

On reflex, she tried to lift up and throw Storm off, but she didn’t even have a fraction of the power needed for that at the moment, too wore out to do much more than twitch and spasm in the Scot’s hold. As bad as that was, it was made even worse when Lyssa gave her butt a couple of swift spanks, making her jump with each hit. As much as she hated Storm, she had to admit, the little blue-haired bitch was rapidly working her way up the shit list, and she’d take the top spot quick at this rate.

Lyssa was the least of her worries at the moment, though. No, what she was more concerned about than anything was the way her arms were being secured behind her back, trapping her in a familiar position. Wendy’s eyes widened as she realized what was about to go down, and all she could do was shake her head and plead. ”No, no, don’t-”

Storm did.

Wendy’s face was hammered into the mat with incredible force, as Lyssa aided to the destruction. The mats were the only thing that kept it from being an instant KO, but even they could only absorb so much punishment. It felt like she’d run facefirst into a wall at high speeds, nothing but pain throughout her skull as she was driven down with resounding force. The impact left her dazed, her world nothing but a haze of foggy colors, a limp and lifeless husk beneath the two terrors.

[hamish1024]

Oh gosh, was that almost a beg from the bent-over girl? Too little, too late! Lyssa and Storm locked eyes, nodded and grinned as they initiated the brutal facebuster on Wendy, driving their victim harshly into the mat, with a room-shaking thump. Storm grunted from the effort, and both girls were rattled by the force of the move, but this was nothing compared to the satisfyingly savage effect that it had on their poor target.

Wendy was fucked. Her reactions confirmed it, as she groaned incoherently in the aftermath of the attack. Storm shuffled away from her seat atop Wendy’s head, but the white-haired girl made no attempt to move, instead staying sprawled across her own mats, semi-conscious and clearly struggling.

“Nice. Wouldn’t have minded hitting her from the top rope, but I guess we’ve got to make do,” Lyssa noted in her now typical tone of casual cruelty, slowly getting back up to her feet. “What do you want to do with her next? Remember, it’s my turn to stinkface her again!” the blue-haired brat added with relish.

“Aye, that works. I still want her to feel excruciating pain, but yeah, let’s make it extra unpleasant for her,” Storm replied as she stared down on Wendy, cold and no mood to let up on the torture.

Lyssa, never someone who needed to be asked twice, had already kicked off her street shoes, removed her belt, and slid her denim pants off her legs completely. The smaller girl’s lower half was now naked, aside from her skimpy, tight thong underwear, in bright electric blue to match her hair dye.

“You’re not the only one who can rock a thong, Storm,” Lyssa grinned playfully as she ran her fingertips over her pale ass, the show more for the cameras (and her partner) than the semi-concious wreck of Wendy currently laying face-down on the floor.

Storm chuckled at her partner, then smiled as she realised Lyssa’s plan. The smaller girl started to lie down face first on the mat, in front of Wendy, then looked back over her shoulder.

“Gonna help her in?” she grinned, giving her blue thong a playful tug.

Storm stooped over Wendy’s prone form, and gathered up a rough grip on her white hair. She hauled her a few feet across the mat, so that Wendy’s face was left hovering ominously over Lyssa’s upturned ass.

“Still owe you more of this, don’t we?” Storm snarled in her Scottish brogue, giving her victim a few seconds to parse her predicament. Then, with zero mercy, the brunette would shove Wendy’s head downwards, plunging her face-first into Lyssa’s derriere, holding her there for yet another humbling smother.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy let out a long, mournful groan from underneath Storm’s ass, as she shook and shudder beneath the big Scot. While she was still awake, she almost wished that hit had knocked her clean out so she wouldn’t have to deal with the pain. It felt like nose was on the verge of breaking, and the rest of her face wasn’t faring much better, as the impact rattled her skull and left her senses reeling. To make matters worse, she had all the weight bearing down on her skull, crushing it against the mats, and their give could only do so much to mitigate the pain.

Storm moved away after a moment, but that didn’t mean Wendy could go anywhere. She tried to will her body into moving, giving it marching orders, but they got her nowhere. Just twitches and the occasional spasm, signifying that her functions were out to lunch for the moment. She could barely even hear at the moment, but she could pick up enough to be worried - the word ‘stinkface’ stuck out through it all.

”No…” She found enough strength to squirm on the mat and look up, just in time to see Lyssa tossing her pants off, revealing a skimpy g-string, not unlike the many that Wendy had in her own dresser. It was smaller than most of the ones she owned, naturally, but the little troll still had a big enough ass for what she knew they had in mind.

Wendy tried in vain to roll away as Lyssa took up her position in front, but Storm was on her before she could make any headway on that, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her forward. ”No, no, don’t you dare, don’t you-”

Her protests were ignored and her face was plunged into Lyssa’s waiting ass, driving deep into the cheeks. While the blue bitch didn’t have the size that Storm boasted, that made it worse in ways - for starters, she could see Lyssa’s stupid face looking back at her from this position, taunting her with the dumb smile of hers. That brought the fury out of her, but she wasn’t in any position to do a thing about it. If she could just get out of this and get her hands around the brat’s neck, then she could…

Wait. Was that knocking she heard?

[hamish1024]

The pleading was music to Storm’s ears, with Wendy full aware of the upturned butt in front of her, all set up for the insertion of her face. True, it was a fairly standard “no, don’t you dare”, not the most original or humble of petitions to stop – and certainly nowhere near enough for Storm to even consider sparing her the upcoming smother – but, it showed that there were cracks appearing in Wendy’s vicious, feral façade.

Maybe they’d be able to wear her down, after all, Storm mused, as she cheerfully cut the protests short by shoving her victim’s head straight down into Lyssa’s awaiting ass. There was a satisfyingly fleshy slap, as Wendy went straight into the ass crack, the small blue thong offering little protection against Lyssa’s peachy posterior.

Storm held the hapless Southerner face-down, applying a lot of pressure to the smother. Lyssa giggled as she felt their plaything get a hefty faceful of her rear, the stifled protests tickling her flesh. The blue-haired girl knew that Wendy would be absolutely loathing this – giving her a denim-clad stinkface was one thing, but the full thong treatment was far more humiliating, and gave far more freedom to really grind the victim’s nose into the imprisoning ass crack.

“Yeah, I think we owe here a LOT of this,” Lyssa smirked in agreement. The Brits were starting to settle into their sadistic groove again, when…

Knock knock knock… an unmistakable thumping at the door.

“Aw, what the fuck!?” Storm frowned, angry at this unexpected interruption to her revenge.

“Did you call backup, bitch!?” Lyssa snarled, flexing her glutes to give Wendy’s nose a painful tweak between her cheeks.

“Nah, she can’t have, she never got the chance…” Storm muttered, chewing her lip thoughtfully. “Maybe the next little simp showed up for their session early??”

“Doubt it,” replied Lyssa. “I’m sure her phone said she was free for the next few hours at least.”

“Okay,” said Storm, deciding on a course of action. “I’ll go to the door and find out what the deal is, since I’m the only one wearing pants. Lyssa, you keep this bitch contained and quiet.”

Lyssa nodded as Storm stood up. The smaller girl shuffled her legs, bringing them up and crossing her left across the back of Wendy’s head, transitioning the butt smother into a reverse headscissors for an extra degree of control.

Meanwhile, a muttering Storm went over to the door, and called through without opening.

“Yes? What is it??” she barked impatiently.

[BlackAkuma]

Holding sessions in her apartment brought a host of challenges you wouldn’t get in normal circumstances. The good thing about doing things like this in a hotel was that they tended to be well-insulated and soundproof - you could have a full-out brawl in them, and it would still be hard to tell in any of the surrounding rooms. Her apartment wasn’t that well padded, though, which meant that she would likely get some complaints if things got too rowdy. Over time, she’d learned how to mitigate and keep her clients under control and keep it down, but there was no avoiding the occasional intrusion.

Usually, it was a pain in the ass. Today, it was a goddamn miracle.

The interruption was something that the two would have to deal with, as another set of knocks proved. While it was hard to make out from her fleshy prison, she swore she heard the voice of Ms. Kikuchi, the annoying old bitch who lived in the apartment below her. She was hard of hearing, but never so much that she could make out every damn rumble going above her head, and she was typically the one who gave Wendy the most trouble. The two of them had gone at it several times, and she was damned lucky that even Wendy wouldn’t stoop low enough to beat up a septuagenarian. Even so, there’d been days where she’d considered it.

Wendy went into a fit as Storm left them to answer the door, trying her best to get her face out of Lyssa’s ass and call for help. She might have managed it if she’d been at full strength, but she was currently nowhere near it, so weakened that even this little brat could hold her in place. Wendy twisted her head about and even clawed at Lyssa’s legs, but she couldn't get free no matter how hard she tried. She resorted to letting out muffled screams, and weakly kicking her legs, trying to make as much noise as possible.

Storm, meanwhile, had the pleasure of dealing with her annoying as fuck neighbor. There was a moment of quiet when the Scot called out, no doubt surprised by the unfamiliar voice, but she replied soon enough, letting a few Japanese curses fly before she switched to English. ”Hey! Stop making the noise! Some of us need sleep!” Her high-pitched, whiny voice managed to come through loud and clear despite the door. ”Who are you? Where’s Wendy? Keep this up, I swear, I’ll call the landlord!”

[hamish1024]

Lyssa had, predictably, not thought this through. “Fuck! Ow!” she squealed breathily as Wendy clawed at her, the blue-haired girl trying (and failing) to not add to the worrying level of noise in the apartment. A reverse headscissor was a wonderful move, but it was far from ideal when you needed to both restrain and silence someone at the same time. Especially when your legs leaned towards willowy, rather than muscular – Lyssa did not possess the thigh strength to keep the hold as tight as she needed. There was a real risk that the suddenly-energised Wendy could wiggle her way free and call for help.

Storm, too, was finding herself suddenly dealing with a set of unexpected problems. A glance through the eye hole revealed an ancient Japanese lady, small in stature but radiating a steely expectation that she would get her way. Shit, Storm hissed under her breath. Barking at her was probably the wrong way to have gone; if she wasn’t careful she’d doubtless find herself on the end of a lecture about whatever nonsense this woman decided to occupy herself with. Storm changed tack, defaulting to the mainstay of out-of-depth Brits the world over – a polite apology.

“I’m sorry! I’m Wendy’s friend… we were… um…. Doing yoga?” the brunette ad-libbed, unconvincingly. “We’ll stop now! Wendy’s fine though!” Storm glanced back over her shoulder to see if this was remotely true.

Wendy was not fine. Lyssa had decided she needed to take extra steps to silence the unruly Southerner, since the scissors was not working. The blue-haired brat cast around for anything within reach, and her eyes landed on the pile of discarded clothes at the side of the mats, where Lyssa had chosen to lose her shoes and pants. The smaller girl snatched up her scrunched black ankle socks and balled them in her fist. With a degree of effort she’d not really had to expend thus far in the unfair ‘fight’, Lyssa clenched her thighs to grip Wendy’s neck, and rolled sideways, flipping her fatigued victim onto her back. The loosening of the scissors posed a real risk that Wendy would raise hell, but Lyssa had anticipated this, and shut that down as quickly as she could, by ramming her balled-up socks straight into Wendy’s mouth, as an improvised (and rather unpleasant) gag. Lyssa leant down on her foe, forcing her to eat sock. Once satisfied her enemy was gagged, Lyssa would try and seal the deal by scrambling to straddle Wendy, wanting to pin her back down in a rushed reverse facesit position.

Storm saw this from the corner of her eye, exasperated at the additional noise the struggle was causing.

“The fuck, Lyssa?” she mouthed, gesticulating, hoping that these shenanigans would not make the neighbour even more suspicious.

“Fucking yoga??” the blue-haired girl hissed back, disparagingly, as the partners tried to get this farce under control.

[BlackAkuma]

she probably could’ve slung this annoying little troll doll of a woman around with ease, but she was still trying to recover after being so thoroughly trounced, taking off a lot of her edge. Even so, the size advantage was all on her size, and she was making the most of it, giving the brat a real fight to deal with.

She only paused briefly to let out a confused moan at the mention of yoga - was that the best excuse she could come up with, really? - before she returned to struggling, prompting Lyssa to change her tactics. The two of them went into a roll, with Wendy coming out on the bottom while the British bitch stayed on top, freeing her mouth for a golden second. A guttural shriek made its way up from her throat, only to get snuffed out when a stuffy socked was shoved into her mouth.

Needless to say, having the taste of Lyssa’s foot on her tongue didn't help Wendy calm down one bit, and she began to thrash about with renewed fervor, desperate to get it out, only to have that ass shoved in her face once again. Her muffled shrieks echoed throughout Lyssa’s body, but didn’t get much further than that.

Ms. Kikuchi paused on the other side for a few seconds, likely trying to make sense out of all the strangeness, and for a second Wendy hoped against hope that she put two and two together, or was at least enough of her bitchy self to go through on her threat of calling the landlord. Seriously - yoga? Who would fall for that?

Ms. Kikuchi, apparently. ”Whatever, whatever. I don’t care if you’re doing fucking ballet, just keep it down!” She kicked the door. ”And start picking up after your dog! If I step on his shit one more time…”

Wendy would’ve loved to inform Ms. Kikuchi, in the nicest way possible and for the hundredth time, that she didn’t even have a dog, but she was currently too occupied with the ass in her face. She threw up a fit as she could hear the footsteps trailing away, taking her chances of rescue along with them.