The Book of Lucia, Chapter II - Oblatio Incendia

[Lightman]

There would be a saying where someone would make one’s legs weak after an orgasm. The Briton doubted that it was true for Sister Chastity. The question she had posed moments earlier was indeed rhetorical, but the blissful, almost beatific expression on Chastity’s face now spoke volumes. One might assume this singular release had purged whatever demon or spirit from within, but Madeline knew better. To expect Sister Chastity to be so easily undone by a mere single surrender would be a profound underestimation.

And it would be a cause of great disappointment if that were true.

As Madeline carefully manipulated Chastity’s legs, her senses were heightened. Even in their relaxed state, she felt the latent power coiled within them. This was no ordinary flesh, but muscle honed to an impressive, almost dangerous degree. Each movement she made was cautious and deliberate. She handled Chastity’s legs as one might an awakening predator, knowing that while currently dormant, their destructive potential remained. The searing pressure of that ungodly squeeze was still fresh in her memory; the thought of those limbs reasserting their full crushing power for much longer…

The subtle flex came, a sudden, powerful tremor that snapped Madeline from her reverie. It was a jolt, a reminder, like a trap springing into unexpected readiness. Chastity’s legs, even in repose, were formidable. Madeline’s fingers paused, still holding the delicate fabric of the stirrup stocking, noted the sheer strength, the potential for a swift, overwhelming shift. Her abs, still slick with Chastity’s recent release, tightened instinctively for a millisecond before relaxing, a testament to her body’s automatic response. Madeline met Chastity’s gaze, a curious eyebrow raised, before the nun gave her blessing.

Madeline continued, slowly, expertly, unsheathing the pillar of Chastity’s thigh. Skin peeled upwards, damp with perspiration, revealing the soft yet firm flesh beneath. Chasity’s hand reached up, gently caressing Madeline’s face, tracing her features, a gesture of almost innocent affection. Chastity’s toes curled, a silent punctuation mark to her taunt.

Madeline chuckled, her emerald eyes glittering down at Chastity’s face. “You hear from God, and speak as if you know all things… yet you are so ignorant of my intentions.” Her voice was soft, laced with a knowing amusement, as she finally peeled the stocking free from the first leg, flicking it casually behind her, a discarded trophy. She then moved, her head dipping towards the other leg, her teeth gently tugging at the delicate fabric of the second stocking.

With a deft movement of her head and a fluid twist, Madeline began to pull the stocking upwards, peeling it off Chastity’s long, supple leg. All the while, her hands, no longer merely lifting, began to caress the length of that limb. Starting from the bulging hamstrings, her fingers worked their way up, exploring the powerful curve of the thigh, then gliding down the sculpted calves. Each touch was deliberate, measured, a silent promise of deeper exploration.

[BlackAkuma]

Sister Prudence still wasn’t sure what the point of all this was.

She stood in the hallway, still, watching the match progress on her phone. If you could even call it a match at this point. It was more like slightly aggressive lovemaking to her eyes. In some small way, she could understand it - Madeline was an undoubtedly gorgeous woman, and most people would give anything to have such beauty alone in a private setting. But she wasn’t sure how well this suited their purposes.

She had been between Sister Chastity’s legs before, she knew how dangerous they could be, and she knew that, if she wanted, the Briton could be in a world of pain. While she didn’t think her teammate could actually beat Madeline, she expected her to at least wear the woman down a bit, soften her before Sister Lucia took her down.

That wasn’t happening, It was decidedly more mutual than anyone had expected. Even their leader, who had mysteriously needed to use the bathroom just after Madeline made Sister Chastity pop.

If Sister Chastity had any such reservations, she did not deign to show them as Madeline went about her work, deftly pulling her legging free and exposing her tout thigh to the fresh air. It glistened in the dull light of the room, glittering like hidden treasure.

”Hm. I know what I need to know.” She chewed on her lips, stifling her moans as best she could as Madeline brought her teeth into the mix and deftly pulled her legging away with, peeling it down the length of her thigh. She lifted her leg, making her task easier.

All the while, she ensured that her other leg wasn’t ignored, and Sister Chastity writhed with every touched - such strong, powerful legs were the result of intense training, and to have them massaged by such expert hands set her nerves alight.

When the legging was pulled away, Sister Chastity keep her leg raised, her foot mere inches away from the woman’s face, presenting it for whatever Madeline might have in mind. ”Educate me, then. What are your intentions?”

[Lightman]

“Such a luxury that will lead to complacency.” Madeline returned, her voice an indistinct murmur against the warmth of Chastity’s thigh. Her lips curved faintly at the nun’s quiet declaration, though there was a knowing glint behind her eyes that suggested she did not quite agree. “What you think you need to know will never be enough.” Her pearly whites, carefully gripping the stocking, made the unveiling a showy affair, stripping away another layer of mystery from Chastity’s form.

The nun’s legs, now bare, gleamed in the dim light, sculpted pillars of muscle beneath smooth skin. Truly, they were a striking display of power and discipline. Smooth, sculpted, and unmistakably dangerous, they held the quiet promise of force held in reserve. Madeline’s hands followed where the fabric retreated, her fingers pressing and kneading with surprising strength. The reaction she earned was subtle but telling: small shifts and quiet sounds that betrayed how keenly those nerves responded. She explored the firm muscle with an almost professional curiosity, testing its resilience, mapping its tension. Madeline’s grip strength, it seemed, was not merely for grappling; it is quite adept at massage as well.

When the final length came free, she did not rush. The stocking remained caught between her teeth for a moment longer as she gave it a gentle pull, testing its give before releasing it. It snapped lightly against the skin it had just concealed, a fleeting contact that drew her gaze for a brief second before she cast it aside with the rest. Chastity’s leg remained raised, offered without hesitation, an invitation that did not go unnoticed.

Sister Chastity wanted to know the Briton's intentions. Madeline’s answer, however, was not what had been requested. “No.”

The Englishwoman's hands moved with purpose once more, guiding the other leg into place. Ankles were drawn together and crossed, arranged with a familiarity that echoed the very hold that had threatened her not long before. Yet now, it would be Madeline who dictated the shape, who held those formidable limbs suspended with a firm, unyielding grip.

The other hand slipped lower, unhurried, tracing a path between those powerful thighs with deliberate care. She can feel the lingering warmth of the nun’s recent climax, a gentle caress designed to stir it awake once more. Her green eyes, fixed on Chastity’s, held a challenge and a knowing smile. She wasn't hasty with her movements, but they were with intention, as if she were testing a boundary rather than crossing it outright.

“Now, would you be so kind as to give those legs a good squeeze for me, please.” Madeline instructed, her voice a low invitation. A bold command. One that was simple, yet delivered with an undertone that promised both pleasure and consequence.

[BlackAkuma]

There was a strange, unspeakable tension in the room as Madeline examined Sister Chastity’s legs. The nun was proud of them, and rightly so. Whatever routines and rituals she did to sculpt those pillars, it had worked far better than anyone could’ve hoped. While Sister Prudence might have been the workhorse of the group, when it came to power below the waist, even her titanic size couldn't compete with the flaxen-haired maiden.

It was good, then that they seemed to be on the same wavelength, or so Sister Chastity had assumed at first. With her leg extended and her toes wiggling, she clearly had ideas on where this match would go and what sort of worship she would be receiving next, but it seemed like Madeline had ideas of her own. The flat refusal took Sister Chastity aback, bringing a rare look of confusion to her angelic features.

She looked on as Madeline manipulated her legs, handling her much like a snake charmer with her pet. Delicate, careful hands moved her legs into position, crossing them as if they were hers to control. The boldness of it had to be admired, if nothing else. After experiencing what she had, most wouldn’t dare to get anywhere near her legs, much less willingly put one of their body parts between it.

And yet, there was Madeline’s hand, slipping through her thighs, tracing a path, further and further down, until…

”Ah.”

Despite the recent climax, Sister Chastity’s loins were still heated and aching for stimulation. Perhaps they always were. Her hips drove up to meet Madeline’s touch, bucking against those digits expectedly, begging for stimulation. They would have it, too, but not right away. Not until the command was obeyed.

When Madeline spoke, Sister Chastity looked at her with confusion, for only a flash, before it gave way to something infinitely more dangerous and wicked. There was no hesitation after that. She hunkered down, pulled her legs in, then shot them out with such furious power that the room was filled with the sound of clapping thighs. Pressure - immense, unyielding pressure - bore down on her hand as Sister Chastity exerted her maximum power, her body growing tight, her muscles turning to stone from the strain.

All except her face. As always she remained cool and serene, casting her cerulean gaze over Madeline, watching her with a growing curiosity.

[Lightman]

“Good.” The word left Madeline’s lips the very instant she felt it.

That surge of force, sudden and absolute, told the English Rose more than anything else could. At first, there had been acceptance, even eagerness, as Chastity responded to Madeline’s earlier touch with that same hungry energy she had come to recognise. The barest caress had stoked embers that seemingly never died, and Madeline had felt the nun buck playfully against her hand, urging her on. It had been easy to guide, easy to encourage. They had, for a moment, moved in a shared understanding.

But this was different. The brief flicker of confusion had been expected. Few would understand such a request, not after witnessing what those legs could do. Yet confusion never lingered long in Chastity. It sharpened instead, cerulean pools flashing with deadly intent, transforming into that same wild and dangerous spark Madeline had glimpsed before.

The impact came with startling force, the closing of those powerful limbs echoing through the room with a sharp report. Madeline’s hand was caught between them, enveloped in an unyielding vice that spoke of discipline and relentless training. The pressure was immense, far beyond anything casual, playful, or even practical. This was power in its purest form, as it's fully realised and unapologetically displayed.

Madeline did not pull away. Instead, she leaned closer. The English Rose remained measured, calm in her response, showing a refusal to be rushed or overwhelmed. Her free hand settled against Chastity’s leg, fingers pressing into the hardened muscle as if testing the limits of what lay beneath her touch. It was solid, unrelenting, yet alive with effort.

It was remarkable when she didn’t hold back.

Madeline’s lips soon followed after, now meeting the unyielding muscle of Chastity’s legs, brushing against the taut surface. She kissed the fully flexed calves, tasting the faint sheen of sweat and the earthy scent of exertion. Chastity evidently overlooked no part of her physique. Madeline’s tongue grazed the rock-hard muscle, a deliberate reverence for the power she now cradled. Simultaneously, the fingers of her free hand dug into the unyielding thigh above, feeling the incredible density beneath the skin. The Briton explored, acknowledged, tracing the line of muscle and fixing on the way it responded.

As for the hand caught between the two clenching thighs, it didn’t remain idle. Her thumb found the distinct prominence of Chastity’s clitoris, hidden beneath the thin fabric. With precision, the tips of her ring and middle fingers pressed into the increasingly damp folds, giving it a little wiggle up and down. She might not pull her hand out, but she could certainly pull something else out.

“Steady now.” Madeline said softly, her gaze lifting to meet Chastity’s contradictory, serene expression. “Do not falter.” It was a dare disguised as a request, an invitation to push the limits of Chastity’s control under immense strain.

[BlackAkuma]

As one might guess, Sister Chastity’s legs had crushed many parts of the human anatomy before. There were the obvious part, like the head and body, the spots that just about everyone with a decent pair of legs targeted, though she would say she did it better than most. If her opponent was small enough, she was more than capable of knocking them out with a bodyscissor, provided she could get just the right angle and depress their lungs. Madeline had a taste of that before, no doubt.

But she could do work elsewhere, too. She could squeeze a leg or an arm so hard that she cut off the blood flow and numbed it. She could target the jaw with enough force to dislocate. Once, she had even managed to do devastating work to an ankle.

But a hand? That was new. Even newer that someone would volunteer their limb to be crushed, but she suspected that Madeline was playing some deeper game. She was all too willing to find out.

Madeline requested her full power, and that was what Sister Chastity delivered, bearing down on her bones with brutish force. Her legs hardened, turned to living pylons, growing so large that they almost threatened to engulf her hand all the way up to the knuckles.

If her foe was intimidated by the display, though, she had the wisdom not to show it. Instead of pulling away, Madeline came in closer, running her hands along the hardened surface of her thigh, blessing it with hot, wanting kisses. Her touch was electric, and the effect was magnified on Sister Chastity’s flexing muscles. Every touch seemed to rob her of her more tension, as if she were siphing the strength clean out of her.

And then, of course, there was the touch against her most intimate place. Even with her hand caught in the vice, Madelien was still able to entice, finding Sister Chastity’s golden spot and working her magic.

A gasp came, unbidden, followed by an equally unwanted moment. ”I will not.” Sister Chastity declared her resolve, but making her body comply was a wholly different challenge. With every stroke, she seemed to falter. With every slip, her muscles slacked. Pleasure was taking hold, overriding all other priorities, and she was quickly finding herself like a puppet, dangling on Madeline’s strings, subject to her whim.

”Sorceress.” She let out a noise that was half a moan and half a laugh. ”It is a wicked spell you weave.” Her fingernails dug into the wood, hard enough to leave scratchmarks, while she threw her head back and began to lose herself in the sinful bliss.

[Lightman]

Chastity’s legs were fearsome things, honed instruments of control and destruction. They were a marvel to watch, and a terror to feel. So fearsome and dangerous moments earlier…

…yet seemed to melt whenever sensual pleasure entered the equation.

Even whilst her own waist had been the target of those iron traps, Madeline had theorised this very weakness. Those pillars of muscle could squeeze with monstrous might, compressing, crushing, and, no doubt, inflicting permanent damage. Yet, the moment Madeline added that potent, carnal ingredient, the steel seemed to soften, almost to yield and waver.

It was, Madeline surmised, completely understandable. That is human, not so much a weakness. The English Rose was so exceptionally talented at her chosen expressions of pleasure that it might well have felt entirely foreign to Chastity. What had, at first, seemed a reckless gamble, offering her hand to those unforgiving rows of muscle, now proved a calculated risk. The moment Madeline’s fingers began their subtle work, pressure diminished, the vice losing its full, crushing potential.

Chastity declared her resolve, her defiance. The nun’s voice strained, but her body spoke a different truth. Strong in intent, yet not entirely in execution. Each careful stroke, each tantalising slip from Madeline’s fingers, made the nun falter. The English Rose understood. This was a challenge for Chastity. A test of her will against the inescapable needs of the flesh. Could she crucify it, as her faith demanded, or would she succumb? Madeline’s expression remained unreadable, offering no hint whether she desired the nun to pass or fail this particular trial.

“Sorceress?” Madeline’s voice, now free of pressure, was a low, mocking hum. “You flatter. I am merely human, my dear. As are you.” Her lips, which had been trailing along the rock-hard calves, now moved upwards, seeking the entwined ankles. One tongue flickered over the heel, leaving a thin coat of saliva, before drawing upwards to lick at the inviting curves of the arch. Her other hand, outside the softening death traps, moved up, the tip of her thumb digging purposefully right between the gastrocnemius muscles, finding another nerve centre.

Inside the rapidly weakening vise of Chastity’s thighs, however, a different story unfolded. With the nun’s wavering muscles now offering less resistance, Madeline’s fingers found more freedom, more room to work their magic. They rubbed Chastity’s crotch, deeply and tenderly, each subtle stroke eliciting a gasp from the nun, who instinctively dug her fingernails into the wooden floor beneath them. “You said you will not.” Madeline whispered, her voice a seductive command. Eventually, two determined fingers found that crucial, minuscule gap, slipping past the fabric and plunging inside. Once there, they flicked, tracing along the moist walls, stirring the well of pleasure, dancing within their newfound playground.

“Then do not.”

[BlackAkuma]

As skilled as Sister Chastity was in the ways of pain and pleasure, she would be in no trouble with most adversaries. With most foes, it was a simple matter of getting her legs around them and whittling them down to nothing from there, crushing them into submission with brute force. It was, perhaps, an unglamorous and uncomplicated way of winning such contests, but it suited her, and there was something so intimate about dominating an opponent in that matter. To hold them so close, like a lover, and sap the strength in their body. To see the myriad of emotions on their faces - loathing and lust, agony and ecstasy, mingling together in a rich tapestry.

With most, she would have little trouble. With most, she would be dominating this match.

Madeline Christiansen was, by no definition, ‘most’.

Sister Chastity did her best to hold on as Madeline went to work on her, assaulting her senses like a general works the battlefield. She was taking control, she knew it, you could tell from the tenor in her voice, and while the nun might deny her with words, the body was a different story. That was full of weaknesses and tells. That could be molded.

Madeline’s lips were on her foot, giving Sister Chastity something she had silently requested a moment ago, and the result was immediate and striking. The foot was an underrated erogenous zone, filled with nerves and sensations, and hers were more sensitive than most. There was a reason her chosen attire left her feet bared.

A single lick sent tremors rippling up and down her legs, her toes curled, and veins worked their way through her fulsome flesh, and it only grew worse - or better - when her freed hand found the sensitive spot where her muscles met.

But that was merely a sideshow. The main event was still going on between Sister Chastity’s thighs, as she was worked over by Madeline’s maddening touch. Her body betrayed her again and again. Try as she might to resist, fight as hard as she did, the Briton seemed to have a preternatural sense of the female body. She not only knew where to touch, but when, how to apply the right amount of pressure, how to drag it all out for maximum effect…

It was too much. Far too much. Sister Chastity held on for as long as she could, but the combined amorous assault battered through her defenses. She tensed up, made one last defiant attempt to keep her composure, before her body gave out all at once and she collapsed, unwinding beneath her opponent and going totally slack. The ankles uncrossed, the legs fell away, and she found herself utterly unraveled, a slave to Madeline’s touch.

”I am…” Sister Chastity sputtered and bit her lip, as she tried to contain her lusty moans. Her hands went to her own breasts and rubbed at them, as if she were trying to draw as much pleasure from the moment as possible. ”You are…”

[Lightman]

“Not done.”

With a fluid motion, the English Rose swung a leg over, mounting the once-rigid thigh that now lay pliant and deflated beneath her. She settled her weight, appreciating the latent power even in its relaxed state. She could feel the impressive strength of Chastity’s muscles, hinting at the force still ready to be unleashed.

And what impressive strength it was. The initial, unyielding embrace had proven that beyond doubt. Madeline could openly admit that she hadn’t felt raw, unadulterated power like that in her entire tenure at LAW. Few in her experience had possessed such formidable strength, and fewer still could wield it with such instinctive precision.

Yet, for all that might, Chastity’s body had crumbled under its own internal demands. Her flesh hungered for ecstasy, for complete surrender to pure bliss. A body so disciplined and resolute, betraying its own desires. Madeline’s fingers, with their minute, purposeful movements, did so much for the nun. Paired with the expert work Madeline dedicated to Chastity’s lower body, it was only a matter of time before the blonde nun, in more ways than one, became undone. Her legs, once a steel trap, grew slack, unravelling before the English Rose and falling like a felled tree. Chastity could not hold on any longer; she lay relaxed, biting her lip in a valiant but futile attempt to suppress further lusty moans.

There was only ever one problem: Madeline’s fingers were still inside her.

A subtle wriggle of Madeline’s fingers was all it took. Without the unyielding grip of Chastity’s legs pinning Madeline’s hand, it now had the freedom to move. And it did, with the power of a piston, sliding in and out, slick with the nun’s own wetness. Madeline offered no warning, no gentle prelude; she sped up, determined to keep Chastity suspended in the same dizzying high. A climax that would not have a graceful drop-off.

Her other hand, meanwhile, found the straps connecting the breast area of Chastity’s attire. With a forceful yank, Madeline pulled Chastity upward, forcing her to sit upright. As soon as Chastity’s body complied, Madeline’s lips descended, planting a deep, hungry kiss filled with an equal measure of need and lust.

[BlackAkuma]

No, Sister Chastity figured as much.

Her leg tensed up for a moment when Madeline moved to straddle it, flexing as the woman settled along it, but it gave way soon enough. She felt simply divine, spreading her warmth across her bare thigh, and she couldn't help but welcome the sensations. She did not know where the Briton had learned such lusty ways, but she was a virtuoso.

More touching, more testing, more teasing. Sister Chastity closed her eyes and let herself be carried away in the torrent, surrendering to Madeline’s ministrations. The fingers made their way through her pussy, slipping along the folds, driving pleasure straight into her body, and she began to squirm and thrash, completely at Madeline’s mercy. There was no holding back the moans, anymore. They came, long and lustful groans that seemed to shake the stone walls.

Madeline was speeding up now, driving Sister Chastity at a feverish pace, and even though it had only been a scant few minutes since she last came, she was already reaching those lofty peaks once again. Her hips thrust upwards, meeting her finger as they came down, moving in tandem to push them down even deeper, reaching the furthest trenches.

And then came the kiss. Though this was not the first time their lips had met, the dynamic had completely changed, with Madeline seizing the reigns and dictating the pace. Sister Chastity’s tongue was compliant and passive, opening the way for the Briton to explore her mouth as she willed, only darting out with the occasional thrust, as if to draw her in.

It was all too much, far too much. Sister Chastity resisted better than most would, she wagered, but the body could not be denied. With a long, lingering howl that echoed down Madeline’s throat, she pushed into her opponent’s waiting fingers and let the dam break, gushing out in sporadic spurts as her body went into a shuddering fit, shaking as if an electric current ran through her veins. Her hands came up to Madeline’s arms to hold her tight, nails digging into her skin with enough force to leave half-moons in their wake.

A moment of tension, tight as a drawn bow, and then…release. Her body gave in, going limp within Madeline’s embrace, washed away in a sea of pleasure.