Emily Blaskowicz vs. Suki Mizushima, No Holds Barred Bondage Match

Though she would never admit it even to herself, the penalty was a relief for Suki: no longer under any obligation to fight, she could finally breathe and let her muscles hang loose.

"Ah, some quality time at last,"

“Wh...Whatever you do to me now…” Fuck, studdering already. It wasn’t really a stutter. Suki was just gasping for breath. But it sounded like a stutter, which was just as bad. “I’ll do one thousand times worse--”

Then Emily kissed her. It was the third kiss of her life. The first kiss had been with a boy after a football game in the back of his car, and it had left her mostly wondering what all the fuss was about. The second kiss she had given her sister in a moment of rapturous domination in which she took everything from the other Mizushima--her confidence, her career, even her costume. The kiss had made Suki blush pink and place a hand on her groin and realize everything in a kiss was in who you were kissing.

Emily’s kiss made Suki almost let out an involuntary moan. This was no high school boy: her opponent’s athletic body was endlessly more appealing, her lips softer, her eyes deadly and smoldering. Suki was strong and choked the longing groan in her throat. She wouldn’t let Emily know how that kiss made her skin tingle. Her heart hammered. This wasn’t just a wrestling match. Suki helplessly imagined this white amazon stripping her naked. Her knees angled inward with anticipation. Images of the amazon slipping her tongue into Suki’s mouth and teasing her clit until she’d cum.

Suki had cum before, of course. She wasn’t some virgin trembling in the ring. But...well. The other times she had been alone. And the porn had usually been of a quality where she couldn’t get there on her own with just her fingers and required to use one of her vibrators.

If only that had been Emily’s plan. The nails raked across her face weren’t too painful, but the surprise made Suki lose her temper. “Fucking bitch!” What did hurt was the rope.

Suki had screamed twice earlier in the match, both times short bleats she quickly repressed. At first Suki was quiet when Emily wrenched her across the rope. She had to process the burning agony as her flesh was torn open and the terror from having her eye inches away from being sandpapered into jelly. And then for a microsecond, she tried to fight. And then finally she let loose. She screamed herself hoarse. She squirmed so hard against her bonds a voice in the back of her head warned her she’d get tased again, but she didn’t. Emily didn’t need help dominating Suki.  Suki yowled in pain and misery until her lungs were empty, then gasped and sobbed and shouted again until Emily let her go. The sheer defeat when Emily tossed her aside made Suki feel things she normally needed a vibrator to excite.

When Emily let Suki stand up, Suki wanted more than anything else to cover her face. A red-hot welt pulsed with pain in the cold air. But Suki’s arms were still tied behind her back.

Somehow her heat beat even faster when Emily pressed against her. The Amazon instructed her like a pet owner might lead a dog: a firm hand showing her where to point her face, a tap to spread her legs. Suki hated herself because she obeyed and because she trembled while she did it.

The first blow hit hard enough to lift Suki a millimeter off the ground. Suki bent forward, folding into her attacker. Her  body pressed against her opponent’s, her enemy’s breasts cushioning her own smaller chest. The pain was intense, nauseating, like a cuntpunt usually is. But she also felt something else.

She held it in after the first knee, but then the claw shocked her into letting it out: a long, thick, stuttering moan filled with lust. Suki couldn’t even protect her sex from this gaijin. Her body belonged to the more powerful, more beautiful woman, and she wanted Emily to squeeze her pussy with all her overpowering amazon strength. But Emily kneed her instead, and the pain was almost as exquisite. Suki let out an even louder groan, sure she was going to vomit.

"BY GOD, the pervert likes it! Emily’s out here trying to have a match, and this...well, this SLUT just wants to get reamed! I tell you what, how some of these tricks get hired is a god damn mystery. We need better people in talent management, I tell you what.”

"I don't..." Suki's mind fluttered as the crowd roared its approval. "MAKE HER SQUIRT!" clap. clap. clap-clap-clap. "MAKE HER SQUIRT!" The chant was utterly ridiculous except for the horrible possibility that it might happen.

BANG. Another knee. Suki’s knees buckled, but Emily held her up. This wasn’t up to Suki: she had renounced the right to choose when to stand when she became the gaijin’s dog. She thought the word: dog, and felt the collar around her neck. She saw herself, tail between her legs, leash in her Emily’s pale hand.

BANG!

Arms bound, sex blaring with pain so intense it made her breathing choppy, Suki couldn’t do anything but stand and take it as her better crushed her sex one last time. It didn’t actually push her over the orgasm, but it was painfully close. Suki mewled as she fell to the mat and curled into a ball at her master’s feet. Her thighs clapped together and she heaved against the mat. Trying to rub away the pain. Trying to rub over the orgasm so close it made her sweat. The bindings around her arms cut her skin like tiny braided knives. It was torture: she couldn't even finish herself off.

When Suki screamed, Emily smiled a cruel, lascivious smile. The kind with just a hint of shining teeth peeking out from between soft lips. The kind that only got wider as Suki followed her instructions without resistance, even trembling a little as she did.

When Suki moaned, however, the redhead almost looked surprised. Under the surface, she really was surprised. Had the girl been a little masochist all along, or was she having a little awakening of sorts? If it was the former, then she'd certainly done a good job of keeping it under wraps than Kelsi. But then, that woman was also much more well-endowed. Not that Mizushima didn't have her own charm, of course. The calls from the crowd to make the little cunt squirt certainly agreed.

"Now now," Emily called out, licking her lips as she watched Suki curl up at her feet like a needy mutt, unmistakable arousal clear on her face, "All good things to those who wait!"

"My, now look at you," Emily continued, lowering her voice to a dangerous contralto as she spoke to Suki, grabbing a fistful of her smooth black hair again, "You're so close, aren't you? Just a couple kisses and some groping and you're already like this?"

Emily dragged Suki upright again, sitting her up and pushing her back against the turnbuckle. She leered down at the slim and slender figure of the younger Mizushima sister with her arms bound, while Emily stood freely, high cut leotard hugging her generous curves.

Still, even if she wanted to savor the moment, she was on the clock here. Once she was sure Suki wouldn't just slump over once released, Emily drew a leg back and nailed the other woman square in the face with a swift knee. She didn't stop there, putting her foot down on the second rope, grabbing the top ropes on either side of the turnbuckle, and launched herself up, using the ropes as an anchor. There was almost a moment of weightlessness as she reached the apex of her ascent, then it broke and she came crashing back down, drilling both knees into Suki's chest from on high.

She let herself lay there for a moment after impact, letting the weight sink down onto the younger Mizushima, then stepped away again. Once more, she nudged Suki's legs open with her own and, with a contemptuous sort of ease, brought her booted foot down between the raven-haired woman's legs.

"Mm, I overestimated you," Emily mused, grinding her heel against her clothed pussy, "But it's too late to ease back now. Far too late for that, dear~"

Suki had ordered a mattress a week before moving into her AFW apartment, and she found it on her stoop in a box about a third as tall and a tenth as wide as she'd imagined a mattress would require. It had come packed in an airtight vacuum-pressed plastic container. She had been amazed: a mattress almost a foot thick could be squeezed down to a hard pack barely an inch across.

That was the image that passed through the wrestler’s mind as her opponent executed a textbook kneedrop on her chest. The air whooshed up her throat so fast and hard it stung like she was choking. Then there was no more air, but her body kept collapsing anyway, meat compressing on meat, ribs bending, ready to snap.

The pain was helpful. It clarified things, made them sharp. The pain in her cunt had only got worse each second after Emily finished planting her knee against Suki’s clit, but it was dull and throbbing and mixed so deeply with sex sometimes she couldn’t feel the difference. But there was nothing erotic about a cracked rib.

There was no way Suki was going to beat Emily. That much had become obvious to everyone, including Suki. OK, but that didn’t mean she had to cum like her sister in front of the press, a mewling, drooling little pup. Thinking about her sister made Suki nauseous. A sickening connection formed in her mind--a wire connecting the kneedrop Emily had just planted on her chest and that night with her sister…

Suki suddenly felt very cold. Her vision was still blurry, but she could see the shadow of the other woman looming over her. A twinge of desire sparked between Suki’s thighs, but she told it to hush. If that wire in Suki’s mind were more than a coincidence, then she had a lot more to be afraid of than losing, and she needed to be ready to fight.

Emily planted her boot on Suki’s groin and a wave of arousal shot through Suki’s body almost in defiance. The adrenaline spike in her chest gave her the sensation of falling, her throat clamped up, and pinpricks of a blush on her jaw let Suki know she was beet-red and steamy. She wanted to grind herself against her master’s foot, wanted to mewl and beg and debase herself. Humiliation had become like a physical pain in her sternum and she wanted to drive it through the bone into her heart because the agony would be sweet as Mozart.

But she didn’t. She swallowed and tried to imagine the least arousing thing she could think of. At first she imagined cliches--blood, corpses, rot, the usual turn-offs, but her mind gravitated to her sister. That naked, ugly pile of flesh and tears just lying on the mat, letting herself get fucked by Suki, pissing her dreams away. It had been like finger-banging a zombie. Suki hadn’t felt a moment of sexual pleasure from the whole fight because her sister’s resignation and weakness had filled her with disgust. That disgust served her well now.

Suki cocked her head back, sneering at Emily. She couldn’t fight, but she wasn’t going to show an ounce of weakness. Let the “amazon” waste her time grinding her heel into Emily’s cunt.

Twin Tails continued prattling unabated. “We’ve got 90 seconds on the clock. 90 seconds for Emily to continue this Hellish assault on her prey. 90 seconds for Emily to show Suki what it means to be ravaged by a real player in the AFW.”

Emily canted her head to one side curious as Suki kept herself still despite the grinding. The sneer on her face told her something surprising, unexpected enough that she almost missed the announcer's warning that there was only a minute and a half left in the penalty round. The Japanese girl was, despite everything, still defiant in the face of the pain and humiliation the redhead was dealing her.

"Hm, 90 seconds already? Better make the most of it, then," Emily mused, grabbing Suki by the hair once again and pulling her up to her feet. Well, close enough to her feet anyway. She proceeded to hook Suki's legs on the middle ropes, spreading them wide open and forcing her to sit back against the turnbuckle if she didn't want to come tumbling down. A hand at her throat took that choice away from her, keeping her upright but not choking her. Not yet, at least.

In defiance of what her foe probably thought was going to happen next, however, Emily grabbed at the leg she'd worked over in the heel hook earlier, hammering at Suki's leg with knee strikes and hammer blows, working her way down the woman's inner thigh and down to her knee. At last, she ran away to the opposing ropes, bounced off them, and finished things off with one final dropkick to Suki's leg.

With a minute left on the clock, Emily yanked Suki down from her perch, pulling her free of the ropes with ease born of repetition. She found the leg she'd been working over without much trouble, grabbing hold of it in both hands and leering down at Suki, curious to see if she still had that defiant look on her face.

Regardless, the cruel redhead smoothly wove her foe's legs with her own, wrapping them up in a figure four leglock, levering her injured knee the wrong way with the shin of her other leg as a relatively unyielding fulcrum. However painful the hold might already be, Emily wouldn't be content simply lying back, instead planting her hands against the mat and pushing her hips up, forcing Suki's knee to bend further in the wrong direction.

Emily flashed a cruel smile to her foe, then added on her final twist on the hold. With the way their legs were positioned, Emily's booted foot was rather close to Suki's crotch, a fact the redhead gladly took advantage of as she pressed her foot up against Suki's clothed cunt, adding a new layer to the torturous submission hold.

At first, Suki had thought she might be able to win, and the hope of glory propelled her, and then the instinct to fight and bite and claw took over and animated her body, but now there was only a churning ember of resentment and resistance as Emily propped her legs up, and Suki’s thighs burned from the task of holding up her body, and then Emily pinned Suki’s throat against the ringpost and began to rain blows down on her legs, which jumped and spasmed from too much abuse.

Steely hate filled Suki. It was all she had left: to hate the woman assaulting her. Hate Emily enough, she thought, and she could hold down the trembling. Just to spite her. Sheer loathing could make her an icy, boring victim, strong enough not to scream or cry or beg.

But it turned out exhaustion was the stronger beast than hate. When Emily tore across the mat and unloaded a dropkick close to Suki’s knee, she tumbled off her perch and lay sprawled out on the mat...trembling whether she wanted to or not. Emily met her eyes. Suki tried to project contempt, a sneer, but her eyes were glassy.

Even if the penalty round hadn’t been in its last seconds, Suki wouldn’t have been able to do shit as Emily grabbed her heels and locked her into the figure four lock. At this point Suki’s body started to rebel. Of course her shins--splintered against each other as they were--throbbed in agony, but shoots of pain erupted in other seemingly random parts of her body. A shoulder. Her neck. The hollow behind one eye. It was as if her brain couldn't keep up with the storm of signals. The surplus pain had to go somewhere.

It’s ok to be exhausted.

There was nothing she could do to stop any of it. That was the lead weight. The whole match was a downward arc and now she was in the mud, at the bottom. Nothing left.

I can take it and put on a strong face.

She wanted to hide her face and groan, but the reflex just tugged against the tie around her arms. Her shoulders screamed in protest. She realized she couldn’t feel her fingertips.

“I can take the face and put on a strong…” Suki croaked.

Suki blinked. That didn’t sound right... A fresh wave of pain erupting from her legs cut off that thought. The pain was roiling like a fire now. It undulated, worse, then better, then worse again. She couldn’t tell if it was Emily tightening the hold or just her own overworked nerves.

Suki breathed.

“I’m gonna lose...” Suki wasn’t sure if anyone in the crowd could actually hear her but she didn’t give a shit what they heard. “I mean, of course I fucking am…Fucking rookie, what'd anyone expect?” Another wave of pain, another gasp, more writhing that hurt her shoulder. “...Not your fault I guess, getting matched with some rookie, Hell maybe you're pissed too. Still don’t have shit to be proud of here. And Twin Tales, calling in favors over shit this petty, fuck sake, some fucking high school fucking queen bee biiiIITCH...God, DAMN it!”

Suki gasped. Tears welled. She continued.

“...W-whatever. Point is, not you, not her, no one’s gonna fucking...break me. I’m gonna fucking go until you’re fucking good and tired, and then I’ll give you the fucking win, and it’ll be hollow…FUCKING shit for everyone...”

There were five seconds left in the penalty round.

Emily was given pause when Suki said her piece. She still kept the hold on, of course, hyperextending the Japanese girl's knee with her own shin even as the final few seconds dialed down on the penalty round and the ref started untying Suki. It wasn't out of pity, either, but more surprise at Suki's self-awareness regarding her own chances. Given how cocky she'd been coming in, this about-face well and truly caught the redhead off-guard.

Unfortunately for Suki, it seemed the raven-haired girl just didn't know when to shut up. Where some might have seen an admission of defeat, Emily saw a challenge. A challenge to make Suki cry uncle before she tired herself out. A challenge she was sure was equal to, and one Suki had just given her a critical piece of.

"Hm, is that so?" Emily mused, an uncharacteristically thoughtful look on her face for a moment before a small smile took its place, "Well, we'll see how hollow it feels when we get there~"

With that, the redhead wrenched on Suki's legs one last time before releasing them, scooting back and kipping up to her feet in one smooth motion. Emily reached down to grab a fistful of Suki's hair, pulling her up to her feet and leading her away from the turnbuckle. Once they were more or less in the center, Emily moved behind the younger Mizushima and went to work, hooking Suki's left leg with her own and catching her foe's right arm under her left, forcing her to lean over as she tried to lock in a fairly simple ab stretch.

Instead of using her free hand to claw at Suki's belly or grind against her stretched abs, however, Emily instead tried to force Suki to turn to look at the redhead and closed in to seal the younger Mizushima's lips up with her own once again, periwinkle eyes shining under the stadium lights. From there, her hands went to Suki's breast, fondling what she could to try to work her up more and more.

What a waste.

Haruka downed another finger of whiskey from her announcer’s table shot glass.

“And that’s the penalty round! Just look at Mizushima, folks. Tch!” Click of the tongue, add some sass, a pause to break the flow and provide emphasis. “Might as well have a rag doll out in the ring! Hell, the doll might be degree more attractive.”

“Twin Tails,” as Suki was so fond of calling her, didn’t need to stretch the truth far on that one. The kid convulsed once the ref undid her tie—all the blood rushing back to her fingertips practically put her in shock. Suki Mizushira convulsed and otherwise didn’t do a whole lot of nothing, aside from crumpling in a pile shivering like a dog in the cold until Emily grabbed her hair and dragged the Japanese kid to ring center.

Now Emily, there was an athlete. Even the way she kicked to her feet demonstrated prowess, practice, mastery. The kind of qualities that wowed an audience. But with a fucking ragdoll as her opponent, even that didn’t get to shine as much as it should have.

Haruka scowled in disgust. In a competitive match, wrestlers were specifically instructed not to ragdoll. Bite their tongue out, gouge their eyes, shove a cattle prod up their cooch, whatever, but, fight claw to bone to do anything but ragdoll, because ragdolls are boring, and boredom is death in this industry. To be a rookie was one thing, but to come in with that kind of arrogance, to have no respect for the thousands of man hours and tens of millions of yen that facilitated her career—and then to ragdoll? Admin had hoped a slap across the face would make Suki start to take her career here seriously. They told her manager to scare her. And  then, even after a good match, a match that somehow had made her look halfway OK, and underdog in the making, she pulled this shit.

What a fucking waste.

Stumbling, almost crawling to center ring, Suki wobbled into the abdominal stretch. With a pop, her coat unstuck from the overstretched breast, which flopped out, smooth and pale in the spotlight. Well, at least she had the goods, Emily thought. Contrary to Haruka’s announcing, Suki’s round breasts, slender thighs, pretty neck—all glimmering with sweat and tight from the stretch--gave the audience plenty to cheer for. As if on cue, Emily kissed her opponent. Suki wrenched away. Violent. She tried to slap Emily’s leg with her free arm, impotent but furious.

Huh. Haruka ran her fingers through one of her pigtails, then leaned into her mic. “Just when she seemed down, she finds hidden reserves.”

Emily forced the kiss and grabbed the girl’s perfectly shaped breast. Suki’s abs flexed, her neck flushed. She was so pale that even out in the audience you could see the flushed, sex-hungry pink.

Interesting. Nice move, Emily. Haruka licked her lips and spat out in her perfectly trained American accent: “How do y’all feel about that fire in her soul, boys? Should Emily show this young lady some respect, lay off and respect her wishes?”

Suki kissed Emily back. It was a beautiful thing, that kiss—French, passionate, unwilling. The teens in the audience ate it up. Cat calls and “oooooh!”s erupted from the audience. Suki looked so hurt and frightened, as if Emily has ripped that kiss out of her. But her eyes were half-lidded, sexy. Exactly what the audience wanted. Maybe there was a role for Suki at the AFW after all.

“Or,” drawled Haruka, “should the Amazon strip her prisoner?”

For a moment, Emily wondered just how long Suki would decide to ragdoll for. The redhead was fairly confident she could get her to wake up again soon enough, it would only be a question of when. As it turned out, she didn't have long to wait after all, the raven-haired woman showing fresh resistance the moment Emily started kissing her instead of twisting her in half. Well, not that she lightened up on the ab stretch, continuing to torque her core and strain her back with the hold, but for the moment she was more concerned with the intimacy.

And there you are again. Gotcha.

To her surprise, Suki actually started to return the kiss after a moment, seemingly trying to take over by pushing further with the intimacy as if she could take back control by outpacing her captor. Unfortunately for her, Emily was nothing if not adaptable, a giggle bubbling up from her throat before she pushed harder in turn, plunging into her foe's mouth and tasting every inch she could, plundering Suki and pushing her tongue down in turn. The kiss changed now, from one long breath-stealing seal to several ravenous ravagings, the redhead plundering everything she could from her foe between short breaths, pushing harder into the kiss and the punishing stretch both.

Still, caught up as she was, she didn't miss the announcer's running commentary. She'd certainly been planning on it, but part of the entertainer's job was to know when to tantalize your audience with what could be, and when to give them what they wanted. Periwinkle eyes sparkled with lust and mirth in equal measure as she released Suki's shapely breasts, only to tug on the coat instead, trying to work it off of Suki's arm for the moment.

"Well, we'll see how hollow it feels when we get there~"

If it had been Twin Tails, Suki’s tantrum would have pushed her over the edge. Twin Tails would have beaten her, kicked her ribs, screamed at her--and that would have been alright. But The Amazon was too confident for any of that, and that shook something in Suki. For the merest glimpse of an instant, a sliver of shame for ragdolling slid between her ribs.

Then Emily grabbed Suki by the hair, giggled down at her, and kissed her again. It was worse than before--the giggling humiliated her and put her off her guard, and then for kiss, the need in Suki’s breast ached harder. Her resistance was numb and corroded. Suki whined. Suki knew Emily was going to hurt her, was already hurting her as she doubled down on an abdominal stretch.

But she wanted Emily. She wanted this incredible warrior of a woman to like her the way that kiss promised she would like her, and Suki kissed her back knowing the whole time it was a mistake--not least because she’d kissed so few people, and she must have seemed pathetic and inexperienced to Emily, who dominated her even in this small competition.

When Emily released Suki, there was shame and fear and exhaustion in Suki’s gut, but there were butterflies too. Emily easily pulled Suki’s top off one arm, and it hung off the other in a limp parody of clothing. As Suki somehow managed to blush, the crowd jeered and catcalled as Emily strut around the ring, Suki in tow like a dog.

Not all of the crowd’s attention was on the half-denuded Japanese girl, though. A boy in the front row added his prepubescent screeching to the din: “BOO, GROSS! SHOW US YOUR TITS, EMILY!”