Lust vs. William 'Willy' Preston - Love the Sinner

Willy had always wanted to get titsmothered. He’d seen it happen to guys all the time in the AFW, and he figured it was just a joke, a fun little way to get the audience riled up, not an actual threat. It looked fun. Have this nice, blossoming rack in your face, all hot and sweaty. He was a breast man, he could appreciate it, and it wasn’t like they could hurt you. All you had to do was turn your head, so any guy could escape it. If they weren’t it was because they were faking it. Made sense.

Well, time makes fools of everyone, but some more than others.

”Waitwaitwait-” Willy’s sputtering protests were cut short as Lust’s breasts enveloped his face, covering his mouth and nose. His head was just big enough for his eyes to peek out over her cleavage, and what he saw didn’t inspire any confidence - her face, looking down at him with superiority.

He tried to move his arms, but her leverage made that impossible from this position.

He tried to wrench his legs free, but her hold was too tight. He might as well have tried to break iron chains.

He tried to get his head free, turned left and right, but her chest was a perfect seal. No matter how moved, there was always more flesh there, invading his nostrils, filling him with her scent.

She could’ve knocked him out like this, which made it all the worse when she didn’t, and instead let up. It was a small measure of freedom, and it came with a demand. It all hammered home a single, undeniable fact: He’d been played. Screw that.

Willy sneered up at her for a moment, then opened his mouth and brought his head up, looking for all the world like he was going to comply. And he did, in a way. His lips touched her nipple, pressing through the fabric.

And his teeth closed around it, giving it a sharp, spiteful bite.

Though it had come as a command, Lust had offered Willy something just about any man in this arena would have done or paid quite a lot for. Rather than take the opportunity to continue capitalizing on the man’s present disadvantageous situation, she was allowing him time to collect his breath, and to put his lips on the breasts of a beautiful woman, while asking for nothing in return. Such a generous offer...and Willy chose not to accept it.

A sharp cry rang out from Lust’s lips as the man bit down on her nipple, and she immediately delivered a strong smack to the side of his head to free herself from his teeth so she could lean back and place a hand over her breast protectively. Fortunately the bite hadn’t drawn blood. But that pain, that disobedience, would not be easily forgiven. Slowly her eyes raised back up to meet his again. Her black-painted lips were curled and stretched into a malicious, bone-chilling grin.

“That was a mistake.”

Her hands lashed out to grab onto his hair as she unseated herself from his waist and stood up, trying to forcefully drag and pull him back to his knees. If that worked, then the moment she got him there, Lust would immediately fire her right knee forward, seeking to slam it right into the middle of Willy’s forehead.

Greed jumped at the yelp and made an instinctive step towards the ring, his forehead wrinkling and a deep frown sinking his lips. He knew better than to interfere in Lust’s matches unless explicitly told to, but he couldn’t help but be concerned when she was showing pain for no apparent reason. Maybe she had a cramp, something going on inside her body. He couldn’t imagine what else it would be, there was nothing Willy could’ve done to her like that.

Unless…

His creeping suspicion was confirmed a moment later, when Lust grabbed that perfect, beautiful breast and looked down at Willy with a smile. Not just any smile, but that smile. The same one she’d worn years ago, right before she wrecked Viktor and turned him into Greed.

”Big mistake.” He muttered under his breath and shook his head, while he covered his mouth to keep the chuckle covered. [color:743c=cccc33]“Big, big mistake.”

The retaliation was Lust at her peak - brutal, forceful, immediate. Willy was yanked up in a flash and her knee met his forehead like a car crash, slamming into his forehead before his arms could even come halfway to blocking it. He fell on his back and cradled his face for a moment, before he rolled over and made a quick crawl to the ropes, needing them for support to stand up. His world was a blur, his thoughts were mess, but even through them he knew he needed to get back on his feet, and soon.

”Goddamn it, you crazy b-” Willy bit his lip to keep that full word from coming out, and he wasn’t sure why.

Willy had just immediately followed his most foolish mistake of the match with his wisest decision. Perhaps he knew, perhaps not. The way his body seemed to briefly freeze suggested he was surprised by his own instinctive action, which drew a small chuckle from Lust’s lips. He was learning the value of obedience, and the consequences of bad behavior. It was a slow lesson, but he was learning. Whether he wanted to or not, his body and mind were registering everything. And he was gradually being conditioned to act in the way that would please Lust the most.

For refusing her order and biting her, she had hammered a knee into his face so hard it may have been a small miracle it didn’t knock him out. Now, after crawling off to the ropes, he had started to hurl an insult at Lust, only to cut it off just short, avoiding a word that would have brought a world of intense pain with it. He still needed to be punished for trying to insult her, but his restraint wouldn’t go unnoticed.

While Willy crawled to the ropes Lust stalked behind him, waiting until he was up to the middle rope. Then she stepped through the ropes onto the apron, grabbing his hair and pulling to turn him so he was facing upward. Intent on denying him time to defend himself, she would then immediately swing a leg over him, lower down to sit on him with her crotch pressing firmly onto his neck, and then cross her feet to apply a rope-assisted, standing headscissor.

Painful as the hold would be, it did have its silver linings. For one, she would only have until the end of the ref’s warning count to apply the hold. And he would have the privilege of feeling her smooth thighs caressing him, her silk panties pressing on him, and an up close view of her majestic frame that many would kill for. It would all hurt and be immensely uncomfortable, but this wasn’t even half as bad as the fate Willy would’ve had to endure if he had finished that sentence.

From their apartment, Theo breathed a sigh of relief. Not a big one. Not a long one. A small, safe, quick one, that came from the simple fact that it looked like Willy was at least realizing what a moron he was being, and not too far into the match for this to turn around.

He didn’t know much about Lust, but he was already getting some Mariko vibes off her. Some, that was the key word. While she definitely had the seductress theme going on, she wasn’t as playful as that opponent had been, didn’t have the same light, teasing tone. There was some kind of sinister edge to the way she moved, the way she worked, and he could only imagine what they were talking about in there. It was worrying, but hopefully her offense would be enough to knock some sense into him. Willy was one of the strongest men Theo had ever met - he had the tools to win the match, it was just a matter of him being smart enough to use them.

Inside the ring, Willy was having similar thoughts. Or, at least, he was trying to have them, until Lust started yanking his hair.

”Ow, ow, fuck, let the fuck go-” He’d been in the process of rising up when she came to gripped his long locks, yanking him through the ropes with a tight grip. The good news was that he wouldn’t have to endure the hold for too long, that she wouldn’t mess up all the work that went into his mane. The bad news was, well…

Legs. They came around his head, clamped tight, and pressed into his neck with an insane, unrelenting pressure, the world’s sexiest noose. It sent him into a sputtering, spastic fit, kicking about and squirming, desperate for even one fresh gasp of air, but he wasn’t getting. When his hands went to her legs in a vain attempt to pull them off, he found himself gripping muscle, squeezing at the hidden muscle underneath her succulent thighs. The view was amazing, but it was a little hard to enjoy it when he could feel the bones in his neck cracking…

It didn’t last. Thank fucking god. Willy couldn’t hear the referee’s count, but it must’ve happened. When she released him, he did the only thing he could - flop forward, falling to his hands and knees, gasping and sucking in mouthfuls of air.

Lust was willing to bet that had felt like the longest four seconds of Willy’s life. She’d loved looking down at him, trapped and helpless between her thighs, and his eyes almost pleading with her for freedom. Finally he had it, and with it a few precious seconds to try to catch his breath. He better have used those seconds wisely, because Lust wasn’t planning on giving him all day to recover.

Stepping toward Willy, Lust would rear her right leg back before firing a violent punt kick right into Willy’s side, hoping that would push him onto his back. Once he was there, she’d move to grab both of his wrists in her hands while raising her right boot up and hovering it right over his face.

“Open your mouth,” she demanded before lowering her foot to his face. If he complied, she’d shove the heel of her boot into his mouth while resting the rest of her boot’s sole on his face. If he didn’t comply, she’d simply grind the heel against his lips until he finally complied.

Willy was feeling pain. Greed was feeling nostalgia.

He looked on, arms folded, with a wistful smile and hazy eyes, as the eeriest deja vu settled in. God, how long had it been since his match with Lust, the one that changed everything? Two years? Felt like a damn eternity. He hadn't been too unlike Willy back then - better dressed, didn’t have the ridiculous haircut, couldn't carry a tune or play an instrument, but similar in all the most important ways. Headstrong, cocky, thinking he’d cut Lust down to size, and falling for all the traps she laid.

She taught him differently. He’d learned. Willy would, too. It was only a matter of time.

He could already tell that some of the lesson was starting to sink in, just going off the glazed look in his eyes as Lust finally released the hold. Coughing, muttering curses under his breath, he didn't seem to know where he was until that kick in the side brought him back to reality. He cried and fell to his side, but he barely had time to deal with that agony before Lust seized his arms and planted her boot on his face.

Then came the demand. Then came the defiance.

In Willy’s defense, he did try to fight it for a few moments, maybe even a little longer than Greed had when she’d done this exact same thing to him. He wriggled, squirmed, tried to turn his head this way and that, tried to deal with the pain, tried to block it out, tried to stay the big, proud man that he thought it was.

But after a few seconds, all of that won out to the overwhelming pain of having his skull crushed. He opened his mouth and in went the boot, slipping past the lips and fitting into his mouth like it was made to be there. He kicked out, made muffled screams, but that wasn’t getting him any closer to being free. Quite the opposite, most likely.

Not only was the defiance accepted, but Lust was all too glad to see it. It gave her an excuse to keep torturing the handsome man under her boot, and it also allowed her to continue emphasizing the point of this little lesson: Resistance brings pain, and submission brings bliss.

It had been the same for Greed once upon a time. He had given her that same hateful glare while she had tread on his face. He kicked and thrashed too, at first, until similarly the pain became great enough that he had finally obeyed her command and sucked on her boot heel the same way Willy did now. She could see in Willy’s eyes he wasn’t ready to fully submit to her yet, but they were making good progress. Now, time to once again hammer the lesson in.

Taking her heel into his mouth was a positive step, but now she needed him to cease his pointless resistance. The more he fought back, the further into his mouth her heel would go, and the harder her sole would grind into his handsome face. But with every break and moment of stillness in between his small rebellions, she would ease up on the pressure completely. If his resistance started up again, then the cycle would repeat, and so on, until he learned to behave as she wanted.

Willy was hating every second of this.

It wasn’t just that he was getting pinned down, it was that he was getting pinned down so fucking easy. He should’ve been able to just fight his way out of this, but it was like trying to get out of a briar patch. The more he struggled, the harder she went with that damn heel, plunging deeper and deeper. The ropes were close, but his body was turned the wrong way for them, so that wasn’t happening. She just kept pressing harder and harder, and he couldn't even tap out or submit, which was probably the point…

To make matters worse, the lack of oxygen was starting to be a real problem, and his struggles were getting weaker. But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing? The less he struggled, the gentler she was getting. When he fired up, she pressed hard, really ground into him, but when he had to rest? It wasn’t so bad. Calm, even. Her heel was still there, but it was easier to take.

Okay…okay. He was getting it.

It took him the better part of a minute to figure it out, but eventually he eased up the struggle and just sucked on her heel. No fighting. No anything. If she was going to give him a chance to catch his breath and rest, he’d take it, even if it meant a little humiliation. That was the smart thing to do.

Right?

It wasn’t immediate, but Lust could tell he was finally starting to catch on. There were looks in his eyes, like small flares of realization, whenever the pauses in his struggles were met by gentler treatment from her boot. It was like watching a human brain work a puzzle out, or solve the answer to a riddle. And then finally, he had it. He stopped altogether. And rather than grind against his face or force itself further into his mouth, Lust’s foot rested gently over his features, while her heel simply lingered in his mouth without any threat of further pain or discomfort.

The corners of her lips pulled up into an approving grin. “That’s much better,” she said, slowly pulling her heel out of the man’s mouth, though she kept the ball of her sole resting on his forehead and maintained her hold on his wrists. “I strongly advise that you keep this lesson in mind as we continue.”

With that she pulled up on his wrists to drag his upper body up about a foot off the mat, then let go of his wrists while stomping his head back down to the mat with her boot.