Headlock!

The scrawny kid, despite his frail appearance, has an iron grip on you, his bony arms tightening even further as he smirks against your chest. His voice is muffled but dripping with smugness as he mutters,"Thought you’d be more of a challenge, short stuff." You can feel the heat of his breath on your skin, and the unmistakable hardness of his boner pressing insistently against your pussy sends a confusing mix of rage and unwanted heat through your body. He shifts slightly, grinding himself against you with a deliberate, taunting slowness, his face still buried in your chest as if he owns the damn place. His hands slide lower, gripping your hips to keep you pinned in his hold. "Bet you didn’t see this coming, huh?" he chuckles, his voice laced with a cocky edge that grates on your nerves. The pressure on your ribs is excruciating, each gasp you take only making his hold feel tighter, more suffocating. You’re struggling, squirming against him, but the little man’s got leverage on his side, keeping you locked in place. The mat feels cold under your feet as you try to find a way out, but his scrawny frame somehow feels like a steel trap. The crowd around the ring starts to murmur, their voices a distant hum compared to the pounding in your ears. His boner rubs harder against you, the friction making your breath hitch despite the pain. "Let’s see how long you can keep fighting," he taunts, lifting his head just enough to flash you a sly, victorious grin before burying his face back into your chest, almost nuzzling as if to mock you further. What’s your next move?

The scrawny kid, still reveling in his unexpected dominance, decides to switch things up. With a quick, surprisingly agile movement, he releases the bearhug, but before you can even think about breaking free, he snakes his arm around your neck. His grip tightens as he pulls you into a headlock, his bony forearm pressing hard against your throat. You can feel the sweat on his skin, the heat of his body close as he yanks you down, forcing your head to bend awkwardly against his side."Gotcha now, don’t I?" he sneers, his voice dripping with cocky satisfaction. His other hand grips your shoulder to keep you locked in place, his fingers digging into your flesh with more strength than you’d ever have expected from such a twig of a guy. Your face is pressed near his chest now, the faint smell of his sweat and cheap body spray assaulting your senses as you gasp for air. His hold is tight, restricting your breathing just enough to make each inhale a struggle, your chest heaving with the effort. You can still feel the bulge in his shorts brushing against your hip as he adjusts his stance, keeping you firmly under control. The friction sends an irritating jolt through you, a mix of humiliation and fury burning in your gut. "Thought you’d mop the floor with me, huh? Look at you now," he taunts, tightening the headlock just a bit more, his arm flexing with a wiry strength. The crowd’s murmurs grow louder, a mix of shock and amusement at the underdog keeping the upper hand. Your hands claw at his arm, trying to pry it off, but his grip is relentless