The Education of Desdemona Belti - Part 3: Yutani Oshima

[BlackAkuma]

Grab the head, kick out the legs, pull through, bring the head crashing down.

Boom.

Dizzy executed the move with speed and precision, the kind of flawless execution that could only come from insane repetition. She and her mother didn’t see eye to eye on a lot, and training with her could often be a pain, but she had done a good job of drilling the basics into her, and this was the result of that vigorous training. A basic move, done with enough force to leave even a mighty tank lank Yutani laid out. After it’s execution, Dizzy popped up to her feet and looked down at her handiwork, enjoying the sight of the mighty Shoguness strung out like a beached whale.

…great. Now what?

She admitted she hadn't thought all that far. She casted a quick glance to the throne, all the way on the other side of the room, and clicked her tongue. Yutani wasn’t a super big woman, but she was still taller and thicker than, say, 95% of the roster. While Dizzy was much stronger than she was when she first came to LAW, she wasn’t anywhere close to be ‘strong’ in the typical sense. Certainly not the sense where she could drag a woman almost twice her size around a room.

So that wasn’t an option, she’d have to find some other way to get her over there. In the interim, she would need to make sure Yutani stayed good and pacified, and she was willing to bet that an orgasm, a tiny headscissor, and a DDT wouldn’t be enough to do that forever. Still. She wasn’t without options, and she was especially favorable to the ones that involved sexual gratification on both sides. She’d gotten moans out of this woman, but she wanted screams.

Dizzy rolled to her knees and pushed over the dazed Yutani, getting over onto her back, then the threw her legs over the woman’s waist and settled down there, nice and comfy on her laps. Her hips rolled back and forth, grinding on her, gyrating to a beat only she could hear. She bit her lip as she looked over her body, hardened like steel, the same body that had been ragdolling her only a few minutes ago.

”Oh, god, you tick so many of my boxes, you don’t even know. And this outfit…” She reached down and dared to slip her hands into the open window of her chest, slipping her breasts out and exposing her nipples the fresh air. Hungry fingers groped at them, squeezed them, and Dizzy savored every touch.

She lowered her head and whispered, her hot breath pouring over Yutani’s face. ”Tell me. Tell me what you’ll do to me if you get up. Let me hear the threats.”

[DropKix]

Yutani's limbs flopped loosely to her sides in the aftermath of the ddt, and the proud weight of her body spilled flat across the mat with all the grace of a toppled statue. Even the air abandoned her chest in a strangled gasp, leaving her mouth parted in stunned silence as the lights above spun into a blinding halo. She should have risen. She should have rallied, lashed out, forced herself upright on wounded pride alone. But nothing obeyed. Her arms lay sprawled, leaden and slack. Her legs refused to brace beneath her. Her core, once the engine of iron-clad strength, quivered in betrayal, wracked by the aftershocks of the heavyweight's impact with the mat.

Dizzy’s soft, sultry form straddled her lap, warm and grinding with shameless rhythm. Her teeth clenched behind slightly parted lips as the smaller woman’s hips swayed atop her, adding friction to fury, pleasure to pain. Her sweat and cum-stained skin squelching as her body gently rocked back and forth against the canvas, swaying to the beat of Dizzy's humiliating humping.

But the indignity was just beginning. Those small impudent hands pried through her ceremonial attire, grasping, uninvited, exploring her bountiful bosom with lecherous ownership. The Shoguness shivered, not from cold draft that now wafted across her exposed breasts, but from the burning shame of it. From the sick heat pooling in her belly. From the realization that Dizzy was making a spectacle of her. Her!

Yutani’s lips twitched as Dizzy grew so bold as to taunt her. She wanted threats? Fine, she'd get them. Her jaw clenched again, and a low, husky breath spilled from her lips like coals rolling over stone. Her lashes fluttered, but she did not open her eyes. Instead, her voice rose from the pit of her chest: slow, cracked, but rich with a coiled promise. She tilted her head back ever so slightly, her throat exposed to the air, as if offering it to the gallows.

“I will peel you off me like a stain,” she murmured, low and venomous. “I will drag you to that throne by your hair, with your legs useless beneath you”

A pause. Her breath trembled again, this time with mounting pleasure mixing in with the rage.

“And when you kneel before me, it won’t be as my opponent…” Her lips parted in the ghost of a snarl. “But as a slave stripped of choice, begging to serve my every whim and desire” Despite her best efforts, a moan seeped through Yutani's lips in tandem with the last syllables of her warning, indignation slowly giving way to lust.

[BlackAkuma]

One of Dizzy’s lovers - a cute thing in Belgium with a name she couldn't remember off the top of her head - had asked her once about her thing for older women. She’d suggested it had to do something to do with her Mom, figuring it was some weird Freudian thing, and maybe she was a little right. She never cared much about the psychology of who she was, didn’t like to look for deeper meanings, especially when they wouldn’t even change that much. It was like asking why you liked your favorite flavor of ice cream.

If she had to put a pin on it, though, it was because only an older, powerful woman could give her moments like this. Here she was, straddling this absolute beast of woman, this sleeping giantess who could, at any moment, spring back to life and utterly destroy her. She was on top of Yutani, the most dangerous wrestler she had ever shared a ring with, and she dared to taunt, to tease, to humiliate, to pull out her plump, pearlescent, pleasing breasts like they were her toys.

Dizzy lived for moments like this. She swore, she could’ve popped off again, just from the slow grinding, and that was before Yutani laid in with the threats.

Every word was music to her ears, making her breath quicken as she leaned back and picked up the pace with her rocking hips. It wasn’t just what Yutani said, but the way she said it, with that deadly edge. She meant every word, would visit every indignity upon her if given only half a chance.

It was enthralling. If Yutani thought that sort of talk was going to dissuade her, then she was in for a major disappointment.

Dizzy would make it up to her, though.

”Maybe you will, Yutani-dono.” She lowered her head, bringing her face near those beautiful breasts. Her tongue slithered out and dared to give one a lick, then another. Quick. Tenative. She was a hungry animal, tasting her meal before she devoured it. ”But not before I’ve had my fill. And you know why?”

Her grinding increased, more incessant before, harder and faster, enough to bring out the familiar sounds of slapping flesh. ”Because you want what I can give you. What only I can give you.” She opened her mouth and took a nipple inside, suckling on it and letting her tongue go wild for a hot moment, before she pulled away with an audible pop. ”No one else would dare to do this to you. Nobody’d even try. You’re a conqueror, but being conquered? That’s new, I bet. If not, it’s been a while. I can tell.”

Her teeth got into the act, nibbling at the tender flesh, coming close to the point of pain. Not there, not yet. Enough to make the nerves sing. ”Tell me I’m wrong, Yutani-dono. Tell me you don’t fucking love this.”

[DropKix]

When Yutani had first stepped foot into the dojo, she’d lamented the fact that this match would be a private affair. No roaring crowd to bear witness. No procession of loyal retainers to chant her name or gasp in awe as she dismantled the younger generation’s most impudent offering. Just cold walls, hot lights, and the quiet hum of cameras humming somewhere in the corners, far too quiet to do justice to what she’d intended to be a ruthless, merciless showcase of her dominance.

But now?

Now, she was grateful. Grateful there were no prying eyes to see the disgrace she had become. No disciples to watch the mighty Shoguness pinned to the mat by some writhing little devil. No rivals to smirk and whisper behind lacquered fans about how Yutani Oshima, the indomitable matriarch of the Oshima Dynasty, had been brought low by lust and leverage alike.

Dizzy’s hips ground against her with maddening rhythm, that impish smile painting mockery across her face, while Yutani remained trapped beneath her, too winded, too slow, too shaken to mount a proper reprisal. The DDT had scrambled her balance, and the impending climax raging in her womanhood shattered her composure. What strength remained in her limbs was scattered, sluggish, unable to act. And still, the humiliation deepened.

She felt the flick of a tongue at her bountiful breasts, hot, eager, and cruel in its teasing. Then again. Her breath hitched sharply through her nostrils. Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t look away. Dizzy was tasting her like some rare delicacy, testing the boundaries of what her body could claim. Then came the teeth, sharp enough to stir a jolt from her core, her nipples now hard and erect amidst her opponent's greedy suckling, like a babe yearning for her mother's milk.

Yutani didn’t respond at first. She couldn’t. Her tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her thighs twitched beneath Dizzy, her hips giving the slightest, involuntary jerk. She hated this. Hated that she wanted more.

“You…” she rasped, voice dry and bitter, “…are beneath me.”

But the words lacked their usual venom. Her tone didn’t land like a blade. It wavered, quivering beneath the weight of shame, edged with something dangerously close to desperation. Another lick. Another nip. Her lips parted with a gasp she couldn't swallow fast enough. Her head tilted back against the mat as if trying to retreat from the heat of dizzy's tongue suctioned to her regal tits.

She tried again, nails digging into Dizzy's thighs. “You are nothing but a storm I will weather. A distraction. A—ah…” Her sentence dissolved into a ragged exhale as Dizzy found a particularly sensitive spot, and her toes curled instinctively in response. Her back arched from the mat raising the young heathen atop her high into the sky, her body fighting, struggling, begging not to succumb to her young rival's carnal prowess, but oh so ever close...

[BlackAkuma]

Yutani reminded Dizzy of her mother. Not quite what she wanted to be thinking of right now, but the similarities spoke for themselves, practically screamed in her ears. Oh, Angela Belti would never, never, find herself in this position, sure, and she didn’t have the same flair for dramatics as Yutani did. But the pride? Oh, that was familiar. She was old and wise and so experienced, the idea of being laid out by her, such a lowly little thing, had to be driving her insane.

Good. Perfect. Under her skin was exactly where Dizzy wanted to be.

She looked up, staring at the woman’s face as she went to work on her magnificent breasts, savoring every second she had with them. How many people had looked on this chest and wanted to do what she was doing? How many had tried, only to get crushed by this juggernaut of a woman? That thought alone made her all the sweeter, to say nothing of that flushed, fading look on her face, as she fought for words.

When she finally did speak, what came out was a clear life, literally and figuratively. Dizzy was on top in every sense of the word; that was plain for the eye to see. But, more than that, the mental battlefield was hers. She spoke, but the words lacked conviction, had none of that commanding tone that made women wilt before her. Her body was revolting against her, robbing her of so much strength that she couldn't toss off a little tick of a girl, half her size. The worst she could do was run her nails along Dizzy’s thigh, and that wasn’t enough to make her stop. Not nearly. More the opposite, than anything.

The spell had been cast, and Yutani was thoroughly mesmerized. Now, all Dizzy had to do was reap the rewards. As her back arched and her body began to buck once more, she tasted the Shoguness’ treasure once more, than slithered up her body, her thigh rubbing against the woman’s pussy all the way. Just high enough to bring her lips to Yutani’s ears and whisper. ”You’re a paper tiger, Yutani-chan.” Her tone was light, mocking, but not without its edge ”My name is Desdemona Belti, daughter of Angela Belti, and you? You. Are. Mine.”

[DropKix]

For a brief moment, everything around Yutani seemed distant, muted, and dulled. Her thighs burned. Her spine arched involuntarily. Her fingers curled against Dizzy’s legs, less a threat now than a trembling plea for control. Dizzy rode her rhythm with maddening confidence, licking the secretions from her wet nipples like it was sacred nectar. Humiliation had crept in. Shame, too. Yutani, the Shoguness, had come perilously close to surrendering. Dizzy’s breath teased her skin, her voice cooed and mocked, and Yutani had nearly accepted it, that she was being broken. Until she heard the name.

Angela Belti. The sound cleaved through the fog in her brain like a blade. Dizzy’s voice disappeared, the sensation of her body dulled. Even the heat between them turned to ice. There was only that name, echoing louder than the pounding in her chest. Yutani blinked slowly. Dizzy’s face hovered over hers, smirking in that irreverent, maddening way. But the face behind her eyes wasn’t Dizzy’s. It was sharper. Older. A little cruel. It belonged to a ghost with fiery eyes and a mouth that spit challenge and kissed like war.

Angela Belti. That woman had been a thorn in her side all those years ago in the early midst of her career. They’d fought like wild animals in the ring, and when the bell ended, they warred again behind closed doors. Rivals. Lovers. Wounds that never fully closed. And now, impossibly, her brood was straddling Yutani’s waist, tasting her skin, claiming her body like it was owed.

A sick, boiling heat rose in Yutani’s chest. Her stomach turned. Dizzy had not just humiliated her, she had made a game of her legacy. Touched her like a lover. Treated her like a prize. All while carrying the name of the one woman Yutani had vowed to forget. Instantly, that shame calcified into anger.

Her hands moved without thought, snapping upward like twin snakes, locking tight around Dizzy’s throat. Her body surged from the mat with a roar of defiance, back arching, muscles screaming as she rose. Dizzy flailed in her grasp, feet kicking above the mat, but Yutani’s grip didn’t falter. "You dare...” Yutani muttered, still catching her breath. “You dare touch me with her blood in your veins?!” Yutani roared, fulling upright now as her bare breasts gleamed in the heat of the dojo. “You have her arrogance,” Yutani hissed, eyes blazing with unholy clarity. “But not her spine!”

And with that, Yutani lifted Dizzy even higher, arms extended, body coiled like a spring before slamming her down with earth-shattering force . The canvas boomed under the impact of the chokeslam, a seismic crack that sent shivers through the floor and tested the very foundations of the ring itself!

[BlackAkuma]

For a brief moment, everything around Dizzy felt electric, thriving, alive. It was rare for her to take control like this, and even rarer for her to do so through her own efforts and not have the privilege freely given to her. That tiny difference made the experience so much sweeter. Yutani was mighty, dangerous, a beast of a woman, worthy of belts and reverence, and she was being pinned down by her, a woman, a girl, who was barely half her size. Dizzy had never hunted before, had never even considered the idea of going into a forest to kill some magnificent animal. Still, she had to imagine this was as close as she would ever get to the feeling.

She was on top of the world. She was a fucking Italian goddess. Meravigliosa.

And then it all came crashing down.

Dizzy didn’t see the change, but she felt it right away, a sensation that came from where their bodies touched. Yutani had been laid out, inert and unmoving, dead weight, only for life to surge through her body like lightning, coming alive all at once with frightening speed. Dizzy looked down just in time to see a pair of hands shooting up and snapping around her throat, an implacable grip. All she could do was feebly pull at Yutani’s hands, futilely trying to pry herself free while she begged with what little air she could muster.

”S-stop…” She shook her head about and thrashed in Yutani’s grasp, straining to find even the smallest sliver of freedom. ”...please…”

There was no way Yutani heard her over the ranting she was doing, but she doubted it would’ve mattered if she did. There was rage in those eyes - a roiling, unquenchable inferno, as if Dizzy’s words had awakened something dark and violent. This wasn’t the controlled, measured stateswoman that she’d started the match as, and it damn sure wasn’t the withering fawn that she’d temporarily been reduced to. This was a destroyer, a juggernaut, and she was locked on the only thing in her path: Dizzy.

She was up, flailing about as Yutani lifted her with ease, and then she came down, down, down, her tiny body hitting with such impact that she bounced back up after the collision. She came down to a rest with her arms splayed out, lying still as she stared up at the ceiling. ”What…what was that…”

[DropKix]

Yutani stood tall, her titanic tits rising and falling with slow, methodical breaths, each one drawn through clenched teeth. The fury in her eyes didn’t smolder, it burned brighter than ever. Her fingers twitched at her sides, still crackling with phantom sensations of Dizzy’s touch, the humiliating intimacy that had reduced her to weakness moments ago. But that time was over. "What was that?" How stupid of the girl to even ask.

"A gift," Yutani muttered, her voice a low and seething thing as she stepped toward the downed girl. "...left behind by your mother"

Dizzy was spread across the mat, dazed and slack, still trying to process the sheer force that had ripped through her bones and spine in that thunderous chokeslam. She wouldn’t have time to recover. Yutani reached down, grabbing her opponent by the scruff of her neck and hoisting her up with startling ease, manhandling her back onto shaky knees. The Shoguness then snapped her arms around her opponent’s waist and twisted violently, snapping back with a picture-perfect gut-wrench suplex, folding the girl nearly in half before releasing her like garbage tossed from the Shoguness’s court.

No pause. No reprieve.

Yutani rose with terrifying purpose, reaching down to rip Dizzy to her feet once more. Her hair was Yutani’s grip now, and the smaller girl swayed in her hold, legs trembling, spine slack. Still, the Shoguness forced her upright, refused her collapse. "Some bloodlines... are curses." she hissed, her arms threading under Dizzy's own, this time into a textbook dragon suplex that hurled Dizzy overhead like a sack of meat, her spine colliding with the mat in a sickening, echoing crash. "And this," she breathed, "is your inheritance."

By now her frame surely was barely holding together, joints slack and breath stuttering. Still, Yutani pulled her in for a third time, her arms around her opponent’s waist in a rear waistlock, her mighty bare breasts mushroomed against Dizzy's sweat laden bare back as their bodies locked in cruel parody of an embrace. Yutani looked skyward for a breath, as though calling on the judgment of her ancestors. "Angela made her choices," she bellowed, lifting Dizzy ever highwards as she spoke "and now... you bear the weight!"

And instead of a release, she dropped backwards in one violent, clean motion. But rather than hitting the mat, Yutani brought Dizzy down across her bent knee, executing a hellish over-the-knee back suplex, the point of impact finding Dizzy’s spine dead-center in a sickening, arch-snapping collision. And still, Yutani didn’t release her. She kept her draped there, bent agonizingly across her knee, savoring the sound of pain of the sadistic triple suplex!

[BlackAkuma]

Dizzy was starting to get the distinct impression that Yutani did not like her Mom. Call it a hunch. A feeling. Not one based on anything too concrete, mind you. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, or the way she moved, or the tone in her voice. Or, maybe, it was how the simple mention of her mother’s name had changed Yutani from this pristine, proper, genteel empress into a MILF rage monster.

Needless to say, Dizzy had not expected that, not anything close to this visceral reaction. She found herself on her back, staring up at the lights, trying to process what was going on, a simple luxury that her opponent - her executioner - denied her, as she came in for more violence. She could only gasp and squirm as she was hauled up again, weakly squirming in the Shoguness’ clutches. ”Fuck, put me down, put me-”

Yutani did put her down, just not in the way she would’ve wanted, as she brought her over and sent her crashing into the canvas with a thunderous suplex, rattling her bones. And she wasn’t even close to done.

A grip on her hair now, making Dizzy squeal as she was hauled up again, thrashing about in her grip like a fish on a hook. Yutani’s arms slipped under her shoulders and held her, carrying her in an implacable grip, one that Dizzy might have even enjoyed if she didn’t know where it was going. All while she continued to rant. ”I don’t even know-”

Flying, again, this time coming down across Yutani’s knee, bisected against her bone. Dizzy let out a wheezing scream, one she barely had the breath for, before she slumped, her arms and legs dangling, deathly still except for the occasional shudder.

She gritted her teeth, clenched tight, and found the strength to look up at the Shoguness, with a face wrought by confusion and pain. ”I get it. Mom beat you and you're mad.” She shook her head and flopped back. ”I'm. Not. Her.”

[DropKix]

How Dizzy's spine was still in tact was anybody's guess. Had this been a more public match, the crowd would no doubt be groaning and wincing with each slam, too fearful to open their eyes and witness the young wrestler have her body be put through the ringer by the imperial wrath of the Shoguness. yet there she lay, draped over the knee of her regal conqueror, still using what breath remained to taunt and goad her opponent.

"Beat me?" Yutani echoed, her voice low, steady, and touched with a note of incredulous amusement. She tilted her head, studying the girl draped across her lap, as if trying to decide whether Dizzy’s defiance was bravery or just plain ignorance . The hand resting at her side slid forward and tugged at Dizzy's hair, forcing the girl to stare deep into the abyss of her blazing eyes.

"Your mother didn’t beat me, little one…" she murmured, her tone like silk yet dripping look blood from a blade. "She escaped me. There’s a difference. And you..." her grip tightened, claws flexing to make Dizzy’s breath hitch "- you won’t be so fortunate."

Yutani's other free hand ventured southwards, until her fingertips found the edges of Dizzy's ninja leotard. Her experienced hand slipped through the folds, locating the smooth, bare crevice of the young shinobi's womanhood. As if thrusting forth a dagger, Yutani jabbed her fingertips deep into Dizzy's pussy, sinking her digits until her knuckles met her crotch. "What I would give for her to be here now, for her to wail beneath my boot as I defile her daughter" Yutani whispered, a sense of longing in her voice as her hand steady began to pump her opponent's pussy without restraint.

The Shoguness increased her grip On Dizzy's hair as she did her pace, simultaneously bending her opponent into a deeper arch across her knee all while plowing through her insides. curling her fingers inwards at the base of each stroke so as to derive both maximum pleasure and discomfort. "Squeal for me now little one, squeal for me like a true Belti ought too - with shame and disgrace!"