Alma

It took Imogen a few seconds for her to recover and get back to her feet again. Alma had completely overwhelmed her in the opening two rounds. She hadn’t expected such a brutal **** at all from someone so slender. She’d expected something more akin to a catfight. Something she could easily block and push away to eat up the time.

“Choose," said Alma. "I want to get back to kicking your ass."

Imogen took a card, and her heart sank. It was a two. This was an aces-high game. Only another two from Alma could stop the timer from going up to 90 seconds and the punishment continuing. Hope and vague defensive strategies flashed through her mind.

Of course, Alma chose that time to pull out a four. Most of the time, it would have lost her the round, but not this time. The buzzer sounded to launch round three and the 90-second timer. This time Alma didn't waste a second and dashed straight at her.

She braced for impact as Alma shoved her, and Imogen lost her balance. The dancer landed on her ample behind hard and suddenly found Alma on top of her. The Nordic-French bombshell grabbed her by the throat. A disconcerting viciousness flared in the girl’s eyes as she squeezed her neck, **** the life out of her.

Alma growled and seized her by the ponytail again. Imogen felt her scalp was on fire as she was **** to follow wherever Alma wanted to take her. Imogen reached up to try to disentangle Alma's fingers, but it was no use. She had to follow.

This time she took her to the counter and pounded Imogen's against the side of it. Each bang made her see more and more stars. Imogen attempted to blink herself back to life, but Alma soon had her by the throat again, cutting off her breathing.

Imogen tried to cough and splutter as her face turned red. Alma finally released her as she was dragged to her feet with a light head and wobbly legs. She caught only a second to fear what would happen next. Imogen was already regretting ever agreeing to this.

Alma turned her around and threw her front first against the counter. She grabbed the back of Imogen’s tight black jean shorts and hoisted her up onto the counter with a burst of strength. Her upper body hung over the other side, and her curve ass cheeks, barely hidden by her shorts, were in full view of the camera. She kicked her legs in futility, but Alma still had a hand on her to stop her from going anywhere.

“Let’s see if you like this.”

“No,” Imogen mumbled.