Atop a gigantic bed of soft sheets....

"Grk!" Arthur Cardwind chokes out, his hands trying to break the head-squeezing hold of your plentiful thighs as he kneels on the bed.

You're biting your bottom lip at the sight, holding your legs up in the air around his neck and leaning back on the soft mattress with your elbows. This is just like how you imagined it.... your quick breathing is restricted by the tightly-bound corset which presses on your bountiful chest, the exposed cleavage of your large breasts spilling over the top of it. Lower down, at your silk panties which find themselves pressed against his struggling and desperately bobbing adam's apple, you're getting SO goddamn wet against him. Your heart hammers in thrilled excitement deep in your bosom, as words rush out of your mouth like a spilling waterfall.

"C'mon! C'mon!! Tap out or pass out, 'hero'!" You demand of the wrestler, tightening the squeeze of your graceful thighs even more from the rush you're feeling. Cardwind can't find the air to respond.

His eyelids start to flitter. His hands' grip on your long legs grows weaker and slackens. He tries to pull your legs apart one final time with all of his remaining strength, but there simply isn't enough left. Finally, his hands give in to the sophisticated Lady Bonfire's legs, and his eyes start to roll up in his head. Body no longer offering any resistance, his mouth drops open and his head lolls downwards. His parted lips start to lightly drool over your already-wet pussy's expensive silk lace panties.

You keep the hold a bit longer, until his hands drag down from your thighs, and flop to his sides on the bedsheets. He's fast asleep.

Unwilling to let your excitement end so soon, you give your thighs a few more pulsing squeezes, almost as if testing him, hoping for some kind of reaction, but get none. At last, reluctantly, you let him go and sit up in the bed. His **** but still-kneeling form teeters for a second before you, then collapses over facefirst into the bedsheets, head landing right between your seated legs.

"Peasant." You say, scornfully, looking down to where the famous wrestling champion lies dreaming.

The word sends a shiver of excitement through your body as soon as it leaves your mouth. Your fingers travel down your body to prod at your cloth-covered womanhood. Electric shocks run up you at the touch, but your face does not yet show any satisfaction as you look him over.

"Too soon....." You mutter to yourself.

Passing out is too easy. And too quick. When you pictured this and touched yourself to the idea of it in previous nights, he'd put up more of a fight. On some occasions, he'd even bested you. Going into this, you were giddy for it to go either way, for him to react to your sudden change of demeanour with strength and fire, and either hold you down and control you, or lose it all in a battle of wills. Besides that, while using your imagination, you were able to hold time and keep yourself at the very crescendo of taking him down to get yourself off with the most ferocity.

But now, in practice, there just isn't enough time. And it's not as satisfying as you would've hoped. What you need is a long, drawn-out display of dominance, so that you can ride out the feeling of power for longer. So he can know you beat him. So that he can have every opportunity to stop you, but still come up short.

You breath catches and your heart skips a beat as an idea hits you. You eye him hungrily.

What you need is for him to tap out to you.

Your face floods with excitement and your heart picks up speed again. The instruments of the orchestra on the floor below are drowned out by the pounding of blood in your ears as you rush to roll his limp, flopping body to its back. You mount yourself atop him, using your knees to pin his arms at his sides, then take a brief moment to collect yourself and steady your breathing. Once you're ready, you reach down with one elegant hand, and deliver repeated light slaps to his cheek.

"Wake up." You say between smacks, sounding bored and irritated.

His head rolls and his eyes slowly open, one at a time. He steadies his spinning head, and rolls it to look up at you, though his eyes betray that he's still severely out of it, as though he's on the border of nodding off already.

"B-Bonnie?" He slurs drowsily.

"Miss Beaumont." You correct, elegantly wrapping your hands around his neck, one at a time. "And I've decided I would prefer if you'd be kind enough to submit after all."

You tighten your fingers' grip, and his eyes bulge. He opens his mouth to complain, or perhaps negotiate, but nothing comes out. He struggles beneath where you have him mounted, wriggling from side to side and trying to get his arms free to no avail. Your heart pounds and your nether region twitches as you look from his panicking face down to his hand, waiting for him to tap and half-hoping that he doesn't just yet, then back to his face again as he starts to fade and his eyes begin to close. You try and fail to stifle a loud moan when you see him finally fade all the way out, your womanhood gushing with the precursor of your long-awaited orgasm as your carnal sound echoes throughout the large bedchamber. He passes out again, head rolling to the side to rest his cheek on the bed as you **** him ****.

Dismounting, you eagerly fiddle with the strings to unwind your corset. You throw it to the side as soon as it's undone, letting your large breasts breathe from the snug-fitting fabric and stand out in the open air proudly. They bounce freely at first, then after some jiggling around, they at last settle. Your bosom simply rises and falls heavily with each of your deep breaths as you stare down at them, transfixed.

You look over to the corset on the ground, wondering if you're moving too quickly. No man has ever seen you like this. Will this be the first? The first man to see your bare breasts is the loser you're kicking the ass of? Is that how you want it?

You think for a moment. Your lips curl up into a smile. Yes. That is the only way you ever want it to be from now on. You quickly strip the rest of the way down, until you're wearing nothing but your silk lace panties, then press your almost-nude body up against him, your bare skin tingling with excitement. The first man to ever see you like this.... yes, this will do nicely.

The next time he wakes to your gentle slaps, he finds himself lying facedown with you sat squatting on the small of his back, his arms draped back over your knees. As soon as you can tell he's awake, you bring both hands to cover his mouth, and wrench his body back.

"Mmph!" His alarm is muffled by the palms of your hands.

"I'll knock you out as many times as it takes for you to give in!" You announce giddily, feeling almost light headed, your soaking pussy rubbing against his back as you can't help but roll your hips erotically.

He struggles with all of his fading might, working desperately to get an arm free, or get you off from atop him, but he can't do it. Gleefully, you wrench him back further, enjoying the feeling of his groans vibrating into your hands, and puff your proud, noble chest further out into the air.

"You can't break free -- you can't do ANYTHING!"

Your elegant, sophisticated demeanour is all but gone, replaced by a burning and passionate desire to put this uncouth fighter in his place. You grind your crotch against his back at a faster pace, leaving a wet trail on him even through your panties as you do so, the sensations sending waves of pleasure into your wide hips and up through your entire generously-proportioned body.

His hands, on the ends of arms held back by your legs, tighten into fists of protest. But then, weakly, the muscles in his arms relax and his fingers slowly start to uncurl. A few seconds later, his arms droop downwards, and his eyelids shut as his head does the same against your hands. Once again, he's out. You drop the graceless peasant down to the bed unceremoniously, giggle to yourself, and get into the next position to slap him awake for.

This continues for quite some time -- you wake him up, he struggles to break free, and in the end you knock him out in short order. At one point you even give him a brief chance to grapple with you after waking up, but between his weakness and the flexibility of your nude body pressed against him, he's no match at all. He's quickly **** out cold in your sleeper hold, your breasts up against his back and legs wrapped around him. You can't help but notice the feeling of his plebeian dick, hard as can be, against the back of your calf as he drifts off.... you smirk and get up, to prepare for the next position.

You're inexhaustible in your efforts, and as the night goes on, you have a bit more fun with him while he's still awake -- you bounce your bountiful ass up and down upon him as he struggles, you lay soft and gentle kisses onto his chest and neck with your luxurious and supple lips, you use his arms and hands and back and face as a grinding station for your excited, gushing womanhood. And throughout, you keep up this air of superiority over him, gracefully carrying your excellent body with perfect posture and form, emphasising each of your substantial assets to him as you use them to put him under, talking with perfect diction as you lecture him. That's your favourite part. Reminding him that he's getting his ass kicked by somebody who is simply from a higher class. Reminding him that he's losing repeatedly to a dignified, refined woman. Giving him nothing more than a taste of your plentiful, overflowing curves, which is already more than he deserves of your magnificent abundance. And then, you put him to sleep again. It isn't necessarily to his credit that he doesn't tap -- past a certain point, you're not sure if you would have noticed if he had. Not that it stops you from insisting he does so, and punishing him for not following your orders and admitting defeat.

"Tap out or pass out!" You demand again, presently sitting atop his face with your palatial ass. He's so weak now, that you're able to keep his heavy arms pinned with just the meagre strength of your own nubile biceps. "Pass out under my regal form, just to do it again!"

You feel his mouth move and the vibrations as he murmurs something into your bulky ass, but naturally, you can't make it out. Instead of caring about what he said you just bite at your bottom lip, and lift your hips to perform repeated drops of your exquisitely lavish behind onto his face. You finish this by grinding against his mouth and nose, an act so intensely pleasurable to you that you almost lose balance and fall out of the facesit.

"You're LOSING, Cardwind!" You shout to ensure he can hear you down there, starting to slam his face with more butt drops at a faster pace and heavier impact. "I'm BEATING you! You're no match for Lady Bonfire!"

The struggles of his pinned-down arms weaken, and he again goes limp against the bed as you continue to slam away at his face -- courtesy of your sophisticated, abundant ass meat. You halt your drops and slide a hand behind his head to pull him in tightly and hold him there against you, deep between your cheeks, before at last releasing him. His head drops back to the bed like a bobblehead, and you give each of your boobs a joyful squeeze in celebration.

"Sleep for now then, you loser. Let me put you out again. I'll get you to tap eventually...." You mutter, gleeful and giddy, poking at your lace panties with a finger, revelling in the moment of the famed wrestler losing to your ass.

The final time you slap him awake, you've got him sat in a chair in the corner of the room, his arms dangling over the armrests as you stand in front of him, bent over at the waist to deliver the slaps. He blinks awake and rolls his head around, before looking up at you with pleading eyes. You grin back at him wickedly, leaning over him with your hands on the ends of the armrests, one leg raised to rub your knee against his stiff dick. You can feel it pulsing. You aren't doing anything to keep him there but blocking his path of escape, now confident in your ability to hold him down should you need to, your big naked breasts swinging gently in front of him.

You lean further forward teasingly to hover your excited, heavy, heaving chest over his face. His drowsy eyes go wide with fear as he takes in the copious pair you're packing, reality slowly coming back to him as he sits back in the chair.

"Time for another smother, I think! Time to engulf you in a superior body!" You announce, about to excitedly rush forward and push him deep between you. But before you're able to drop down onto him with your huge, lavish breasts, you faintly feel something against your hip, and stop.

Your heart skips another beat and you suck in a deep breath as you turn your head to look down. His hand has somehow found the strength to lift itself from hanging over the armrest, and has come up to the side of your ass to weakly, desperately tap out to the lady of the house.

You exhale slowly, drinking in the feeling. Then, mouth breaking into a wide smile, you laugh out loud and drop down onto his face anyway, heart hammering as you rub your chest from side to side over his face, dragging it to roll along with you without resistance. You hop up onto his lap, feeling his hard dick pressing against your pussy and between your ass through the dress pants he surely spent so much time picking out. He must've really thought that this was his big chance to break out into the upper echelon, huh.....? Haha!

You roll your hips and grind down against him at speed, feeling the full length of his massive, pulsing, throbbing dick. He thought he could just come in here and use that on you? Subjugate you like he no doubt has so many other women? Think again!

Your breath comes in heaves as you smother him in your chest and grind yourself almost all the way up to an orgasm on his dick. But he hasn't earned that from you -- and now it's time to finish him off. You're sure he's learned a valuable lesson about you tonight.

You wrap one hand around behind his head and pull him closer, further into your chest. His arms come up to your sides, trying to push you off, but you can barely even tell. You can feel him helplessly shudder into your heaping bosom as you take him in deeper, deeper.... then he quietly goes limp without another sound, eyelids falling closed deep within your cleavage and arms drooping down to his sides, swinging uselessly either side of the chair.

You hold him there a while, hand on the back of his head, chest rising and falling around his face as you heave in heavy breaths. Then you lean back to look at his passed-out expression.

"Awww...." You mock cruelly, through your crimson lips. "Did SOMEBODY - FALL - ASLEEP!?" You ask, giving a few more quick grinds over his dick with each word, then step away to watch as he flops over **** in the chair, tumbling to the ground.

You laugh out loud again at the sight, then prepare to leave him there on the ground and rejoin the rest of the party -- but your pussy is dripping, and there's something you seem to have forgotten.

Sucking in another deep breath, you slowly push a shaky hand down your body and lean back against the bedroom door. Your fingers at last push aside your panties, shifting them down to hang around your knees, and then you slide two inside yourself. You can't held but moan and melt back against the door, sliding down to a sitting position with your legs up and apart as you slowly build up the pace and fingerfuck yourself into the biggest, most mind-blowing orgasm you've ever had. You cry out and buck against your hand, squirting all over the bedroom floor.

You let your fingers ride you through the aftershocks, face flushed and large breasts heaving. As you come down from the orgasm, you look over to the toppled form of wrestling champion Cardwind again, and grin wickedly to yourself. Then you stand, dust yourself off, and push out the door and out onto the stairwell to get back to the rest of the guests and your house party, positively glowing.