Plant down on your feet

By weightening down and dropping your waist you should be able to counter her movement efficacely, you think. Indeed, the clue is valid, and her throw fails, despite all the struggle that she makes. Breathing in relief, you scheme the following move, ready to make her pay. Your delusional security quickly vanishes though when your opponent changes her strategy, shouting fiercely and stomping your foot under her heel. The aching pain that follows stuns your mind, allowing the girl to throw a couple of brutal elbow strikes into your helpless stomach. A new sudden pain soars from below. Ruthlessely, Grace adjustes her stance, catching the back of your bent neck under her armpit and tossing your body on the floor. Startled and ****, you land yet out of breath; all the world is whirling and your sight for a moment blurs. The victorious martial girl stands smiling on your side, apparently more relaxed, and quietly lays a barefoot on your throat, holding you on the ground. As a matter of fact, that wouldn't have been necessary since you are so weak that even standing up would be a challenge. "Oh! The little and cute bugger is under my feet, it was so predictable!", she teases out, as your face glows. You hate her. What makes no sense however is that at the same time, even in this instance, you love staying close to her body. You crave for that little yet strong thing, slightly visible under that karate uniform, which has put you down so effortlessly. But you know that you have lost your chance to earn it.

"I warned you pussy", she keeps on saying, scaring your confidence further, "Why should I waste my time with you? Come on wimp, give me a reason!". "Go to hell…", you try to reply with the little pride that you've left. Your voice is immediately silenced by her foot sole hardly pressed on your pipe throat. You are powerless. Even the impromptu attempt to remove her foot grasping it with your hands fails miserably; the feeble resistance that you can wield is nothing compared to the full **** of the fresh female martial artist, who is putting down all her weight. The **** sensation is to some extent similar to ****. Mercifully, the girl easies the negging pain soon, permitting you to breathe again, but keeping her toes around your neck as a reminder. "This is the begging part that I mentioned earlier", she says, leaning forward and looking down, "Don't disappoint me, please behave…". Your options are limited to one. "Ok, you got me. Let me stand now…", you ask with a strangled voice, hoping that all of that will be over shortly. "Oh no!", she cackles wickedly, "I said beg me and I mean it!". The deadly constrain on your throat returns briskly. "Ok! Please!", you cough out, panicking, "I beg your pardon! You are right...I am not a man... Don't…", you can't complete the sentence as the pressure is unbearable. "I devised a good retribution for your cockyness", she proclaims, relaxing her foot again, "You must jerk off now in front of me in this position". She can't be so rogue, you speak to yourself...she can't really **** you to masturbate.

Yet, her glance leaves you no doubt over her intentions. The impulse to cry abruplty arises from your chest. Snuffling ashamed you pull out your cock, wanking out at a slow pace. "Faster!", she commands, "Sketch in your mind the feeling of my warm body between your arms. Of course, it will never happen again, but you can dream about it as much as you want…". The girl is an ugly imp but your excitement is nonetheless spurred by that visual stimulation. In just a few minutes your dick is wet inside and after a while more a white load spreads profusely on your belly. Grace giggles in delight and, lifting her foot, speaks to you one last time; "Poor boy. You are exactly like the others, even though you fought better than most of them. Get lost now…". Suddenly, you feel no constrain on the throat, but a new overcoming sense of moral defeat. Instinctively, you crawl toward her knees, hugging them pathetically. "Please, Grace, give me another chance!", you beg, acting worst than a child and losing all the man's dignity that you had. Trough the fighting she has subdued you not only physically but even mentally. Grace laughs at you but at the same time takes pity of your state. "Maybe little boy..", she states, shuffling your hair, "One day. Maybe".