Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

Pray might not have been the brightest bulb in the pack, but even he could figure out that something was wrong here. Disturbingly, amazingly, incredibly wrong.

He couldn’t tap out and he couldn’t say the safeword - not that he could remember it - but he was fairly sure that he’d made his intentions all too clear. He wanted her off. He needed her off. It was funny, really, because he’d seen guys in this exact situation before, and he’d always laughed it off, thinking that it would be the easiest move to escape. Turn your head. Push her off. Squirm your way free. A facesit wasn’t a real move, it was a porn parody, kinky stuff to keep the crowds happy, not a legit move that would work on a legit fighter.

But now that he was in it, the dangers were all too apparent. She didn’t weigh all that much, but she didn’t need all that much weight to control his head, and control of the head meant the rest of the body went with it. He was helpless, at her mercy, and going out again - the last time, he could write it off as an accident, but this? This was all too clear.

That was the thought at the back of his mind, anyway. In the forefront, he was a bit more concerned about the way she was fucking his face.

When he realized what she was doing his struggled went to another level, which just seemed to make her grind down harder, which made him struggle more. It was a loop, but one that couldn’t go on forever without oxygen. His struggles become weaker, slower, softer, more pathetic as she came to her climax and spilled all over him. His world grew darker, quieter, and-

Rizu moved away and Prayuth took a giant gulp of air, filling his lungs with air - and her juices. The mix threw him into a coughing frenzy, spitting out and sputtering, shaking his head, trying to rub his eyes clean on her yoga pants and shaking away her attempts to help him. The whole time, she just sat there, letting him get it all out, and only spoke when her words could be understood. Or, at least when he could hear them.

”What? What?” He threw back his head, panting, eyes rolling to ceiling. ”You’re fucking...you’re crazy.” He muttered off a bunch of curses in his native tongue, getting them in through labored breaths.”Rizu, you’re...get off. Come on.” He bucked again, then hardened his voice. No more games. ”Get off.”

Rizu found his attempts to struggle beneath her immensely amusing, and they significantly helped to drive her to an orgasm right on his pretty face. When she sat back on his chest she took a moment to silently enjoy watching him try to get his wits about him again. This was all playing out like a blissful dream, to Rizu at least, one she hoped wouldn’t end anytime soon.

His refusal to obey her command didn’t bother her, though it wouldn’t be ignored either. But when he called her “crazy,” that she didn’t like. It reminded her too much of her ex-husband that night. He had been the one who cheated on her. But when the nurse confronted him and demanded an explanation, he had called her “crazy,” even after she’d proven it beyond any doubt. It seemed the word was little more than a defense mechanism for guys to hide behind when a woman had them outwitted and cornered - or in this case, pinned. Pray had a much stronger reason to use the word considering what the nurse had done to him, but that didn’t make her like hearing it any more.

The next time he bucked Rizu grabbed onto his head with both hands, pulling his face right back into her soaked crotch while rolling to the side. She extended her legs on either side of his head, locked the ankles, and began squeezing her thighs against his head with full force. The sweetness previously held in her gaze was now replaced by something much more blatantly sadistic. No more playful, innocent smile, as if she saw all this as some sort of game. She was thinking about how great his muffled screams for mercy felt against her pussy, and wanted to experience that feeling again.

“I said, tap.”

Oh, shit.

Pray had just fucked up.

He considered himself an expert on two things - fighting and acting. He would’ve said ‘women’ as a third, before one knocked him and used his face as a sex toy. Regardless, his skill with the first two made it easy for him to read people, to get a good sense for where their head was at based on their expressions and movements, and everything about Rizu was telling him one thing - he’d just hit a red button. She was miffed. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her body tensed, and knew it meant there would be pain coming. Much more.

”No, wait-” His protests were cut off as she rammed his face back into that wet, hot prison, turned to the side, and cranked up the pressure on his skull to maximum. Pray was no stranger to pain, he could take hits and punches all day, he did his own stunts - but this was different. A punch was a quick, fleeting sort of pain, a burst and then it faded. This was a crushing, relentless pounding on his skull, a fearsome, ruthless pressure that hammered his skull. If his mouth wasn’t currently filled with flesh, he wouldn’t have been able to breath, anyway, and it was all too apparent that he’d be going back to sleep soon in the most painful way.

Unless…

She wanted taps, she’d get taps. Prayuth tapped and tapped and tapped. He tapped her thigh, tapped the mat, tapped with his feet, tapped his leg, tapped every way he could think to tap, all while he flailed about and renewed his efforts to plead into her pussy, filling the room with muffled cries. It was already starting to get dark again, but he tried to hold on, hoping she’d let him go fast enough.

Hoping.

Rizu’s smile quickly came back. Not the sweet, innocent smile she’d worn during their casual conversations before, but the one that had surfaced when the nurse caught Pray in her chokehold. It was a smile that silently told the handsome man between her thighs she saw his pain and enjoyed every moment of it. And it said his submission pleased her.

Oh how wonderful this was. Each time the nurse did something to torture her prey, her mind reveled in the blissful novelty of her domination of him. Pray was the trained fighter and wrestler, and Rizu was supposedly just a nurse. But here they were. Rizu was holding him down, smothering him out with her drenched pussy while her thighs squeezed his head with all their might, and Pray was tapping out. It wasn’t just some quick touch of his hand that could’ve easily been mistaken for something it wasn’t meant to me. No, his hand was repeatedly tapping on her thigh, the mat, even his own leg. His surrender to the nurse, his submission to her, could not have been more definitive.

“That’s more like it,” Rizu said. But, she didn’t let up on the pressure of her headscissor even slightly. “Now the other part again. Tell me you’re mine, and I’ll let you go~” The path to freedom was so simple, and yet...it wasn’t. With Pray’s mouth and nose firmly sealed off by the sadistic nurse’s crotch, telling her what she wanted to hear was almost impossible. Dangling a path of escape right in front of him, but holding it just out of reach. Right about now it would probably become clear Rizu didn’t actually intend to release her hold until she’d knocked him out again.

Prayuth tapped. He tapped and tapped and tapped. He did it as hard and as often and as fervently as he could, hoping that it would be enough for her to let go of the hold and give him back his air.

It didn’t work. If anything, she just squeezed, tighter, crushed harder, and demanded more. He could barely hear her, her thighs engulfing his ears and making an effective muffler, but he was able to see the way her lips moved well enough from his position to make out most of what she was saying, and it wasn’t hopeful. She didn’t just want tapping, she wanted words, and words were something he wasn’t in a position to give.  He was clear-headed enough to see the game, here. He wasn’t stupid, despite the way it was currently looking.

He had an option. A bit of a longshot, but since the alternate was getting knocked out, he might as well try it.

As an actor, one who did his own stunts, he’d acquired some skills. One of them was pretending to be knocked out, learning how to fake it well enough to fool an audience. He’d had to pull off that trick for the Fatal Fury movie, and he was hoping it would come in handy, here - worst case, he’d screw it up and the real thing would happen, anyway.

Prayuth gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and tensed up his body, going into a shocking convulsion as he forced his body to relax, despite the crushing force being applied to it, doing his best to ignore panic mode. He went slack in her grip, throwing in a few shudders and spasms for effect, hopefully not milking it too much.

Work, work, work…

Rizu’s grin widened slightly, but still noticeably when she saw the realization in Pray’s eyes. Yes, he was tapping out to the nurse’s hold and his surrender could not have been more clear. But she’d deliberately demanded something of him he couldn’t give her. She was going to knock him out again, because she wanted to and because she could, and that’s all there was to it. Rizu continued to squeeze her thighs, pouring the pressure on while still smothering Pray’s face with her wet crotch.

She purred as she felt his struggles begin to die down. Suddenly his body spasmed, before going limp between her legs. Something about it seemed just a tad goofy, but there wasn’t exactly a graceful way for a body to get knocked unconscious. As far as Rizu knew, Pray was out like a light once again. Convinced, she finally let go of the scissor hold and rolled the actor onto his back.

The nurse stood over his handsome, “unconscious” frame, one leg by either side of him. After a moment she raised her bare right foot and placed it on Pray’s chest. She could feel his heartbeat with her sole, a curious sensation she never would’ve thought would feel as peculiar as it did. Then she slid her foot up his torso until it gently rested over his throat. She didn’t press down to choke him. She just held the pose for a few moments, relishing in the sight of Pray lying defeated under her foot. Truth be told, Rizu hadn’t quite understood why so many wrestlers struck poses like this over their defeated foes, but she did now. There was something incredibly empowering about pinning her conquered foe down beneath the lowest part of herself. The thought alone elicited another soft purr from the nurse before she finally moved her foot off of Pray.

Briefly leaving the actor where he was, she strode off through a side door into a separate room. What she was doing would become clear soon enough, but she didn’t rush. The one door leading out of the basement was locked, and as far as she knew Pray was still enjoying a forced slumber. She still had plenty in mind she wanted to do with him, and she was eagerly looking forward to every second of it.

Prayuth didn’t like to brag - okay, he did, but even if he didn’t, he’d have no problems saying he was a good actor. People often thought martial arts flicks were just about the action, the moves, the choreography, and while that was what got the butts in the seats, he liked to think that it never hurt if the person doing the punching didn’t sound like an idiot for the 95% of the film that wasn’t a fight scene.

After all, how many actors could not only pretend to be knocked out, but do it while being knocked out? Not many. Granted, he had better motivation than most, but…

The point was - it worked. No, it was not easy to stay still like that, especially when she planted her foot on him and started doing what the hell weird thing she was doing. A pose? She was posing? Seriously, where had this woman come from? He knew the AFW attracted all sorts of weird types, but he’d figured that would be limited to the ring. As near as he could tell, Rizu was just a crazy nurse, not some wrestler in disguise, though with leg power like that, she could’ve been. He would’ve been impressed by her strength, too, if he wasn’t so busy being terrified by it.

For the moment, luck was on his side - Rizu could’ve just stayed and choked him out again when he ‘woke up’, but it seemed like she had other plans, plans that involved her walking out and moving to a side room, leaving him out of sight. He waited a moment and only a moment before opening one eye to make sure she was out of sight. She was, and he immediately sat up and took a deep breath, relieved as he looked up to the door. Sure, he could have taken her now, if he had to, and a small part of him wanted to after the trick she pulled. She was a great wrestler, clearly, but he strongly doubted she could take him on his feet with his strikes.

The problem was, though, that someone had to see him coming in here, and if he struck Rizu and did her any real harm - a bruise, a cracked rib, anything - she could make up any story she liked, and there was no way people would take his side. He wouldn’t even have to be convicted of anything. The court of public opinion was more than capable of doing him in. And even if, if, the accepted his side of things, they’d know he was beaten and knocked out by a nurse.

Ridicule at best, jail time at the worst, and the end of his film career either way.

Yeah. He was leaving.

Prayuth made his way up and moved as silent as a man his size could, inching towards the door, not wanting to stir Rizu and start a commotion. He made his way up the stairs, careful with each step, higher and higher, reaching out, grasping the handle, and…

Locked. From the inside. The door locked from the inside.

He grit his teeth, frustrated, and gave the handle a few tugs, just to make sure he wasn’t crazy. ”Really? Really?” He cursed under his breath. ”You’re kidding me with this bullshit…”

Rizu couldn’t quite recall a time she’d felt so disappointed and amused simultaneously.

She’d just gone away for a minute or two to change clothes. Her yoga pants and sports bra were gone, replaced with a beautiful white, silk night dress, with matching panties and stockings. It was meant to emphasize her beauty to its fullest extent, and it did. But Pray, in his foolishness, was too busy trying to escape to see what was right there in the room with him.

Just like her husband…

No, no, that wouldn’t do at all. It was unacceptable. Intolerable. Punishment was required, that much was clear. In fact, there was something she’d been considering doing from the beginning but held off on, deciding to see how things played out first. But this convinced her it was absolutely necessary. Pray had made a lot of mistakes today, and they were going to come back to bite him even more than they already had.

The nurse picked her cell phone up. Then stocking covered feet moved quietly over the floor until she was behind Prayuth. Her free hand suddenly took a tight grip of his hair and yanked back while one of her feet pushed against the back of his leg, hoping to trip him backward while falling with him. If she could get him down then the second he was on his back her legs would snake around his head and neck again, right leg curling to press her calf into his throat and hook her foot behind her left leg to apply an air-tight figure four headscissor.

“Where do you think you’re going, Pray-kun?” her voice asked sweetly, while her hand gently brushed his hair. “We’re not done yet.”

The nurse squeezed her legs tightly against the trapped man’s head and neck. And at the same time, she held up her phone over him with the camera app on. She made sure his face was clearly framed, with her legs clear to see while they strangled him. The button was click, releasing a bright flash as the picture was taken. Then she held the phone out a little bit, pressing a button to switch to the front side camera. Rizu held it at an angle that showed her as well as the actor trapped between her legs. She smiled sweetly at the camera, and took another picture. If anyone ever saw these, they’d see Pray getting dominated by a woman in lingerie.

And they’d know the woman dominating him was Rizu Umeda, one of the nurses employed by Tension.

She locked the door. ”She locked the fucking door.”

Prayuth had to repeat it out  loud - with an added expletive - just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming all of this. She’d locked the door from the inside? Hell, she had a door that locked from the inside in her basement? Who did that? Who had a setup like that? It brought the not-so-subtle implication that she’d not only been planning this from the start, but that she’d planned this with someone long before he even walked into her office. He was just the dumb fly that flew into her web.

He was just starting to contemplate his next move - he had to get the key from Rizu, he knew that, but he wasn’t sure how to do it without getting rougher than he wanted to.

But, as it turned out, that would be a moot point - like Rizu said, she wasn’t done with him yet.

Prayuth cried out, both in shock and pain, as his hair was yanked and the rest of his body followed, bringing him to the floor. He sat up and started to fight, looking to pull his way free, and he just might have - if two svelte, silky legs hadn’t come up to wrap around his head and clamped down, locking him down. Her ankles crossed, her muscles swelled with unflinching muscle, and the trap was set.

That all would’ve been bad enough by itself - his neck was still hurting from her last squeezing, and this was only exacerbating it, ensuring that there’d be a session with his masseuse in the near future. But what really distressed him was what she had in her hand, and what she was clearly doing with it.

”Hey!” He grunted and spoke as best as he could with her python legs crushing his legs, hissing through his clenched teeth. ”Give me that! Stop!” He thrashed around and swung his arms out, trying to snatch the phone away, hoping to get it clear.

Pray’s reaction was all too predictable once she started taking pictures with her phone. To people like him, public image wasn’t just important, it was like its own form of currency. Well, to an extent the concept applied to everyone. But the significance of it was drastically amplified for people in showbusiness.

In particular, Pray had established credibility for himself in the roles he acted for with his martial arts skills. But who the hell would ever take him seriously again if people saw pictures of him getting choked out by the legs of a nurse in lingerie? And more specifically on the Tension locker room, who would respect him if they found out he got his ass handed to him so badly not by another one of Tension’s wrestlers, but by one of its nurses? Rizu was no fool. She knew what that would do to Pray if it became public knowledge. Maybe that’s why she was feeling so aroused again while she held him in her legs, squeezed the life out of him, and made a little selfie-photoshoot of it.

“Do you want me to give you the phone, or do you want me to stop? You’ll have to be more specific, Pray-kun. But then again I guess it doesn’t matter, because...I’m not going to do either~” she said with a deceptively cute little giggle. But then she doubled down on the figure four scissor hold, really pressing her calf into his throat and closing off the blood flow to his brain. “I’m going to knock you out again now. And this time I’m not letting go until I know for certain you’re asleep.”

Rizu smiled while she spoke and looked sweetly down into his eyes, eager to see how they looked the moment her legs stole consciousness away from him.