Brutal

Eleanor stands over Emily, her expression unyielding, the power radiating from her in waves. You can feel it from where you sit, frozen, captivated by the tension between the two women. Emily, usually so bratty and full of taunts, looks less certain now as she faces Eleanor’s calm, controlled demeanor. It’s a stark contrast—the playful cruelty Emily had shown before now pales in comparison to Eleanor’s cold, measured power.

Emily, ever the instigator, pushes against Eleanor, a smirk barely forming on her lips. "Think you're still in control, huh?" she taunts, her voice shaking just a little. But Eleanor’s silence in response is more powerful than any words.

Without warning, Eleanor moves. Her long, powerful frame lunges forward, and before Emily can react, Eleanor has her pinned to the ground. The sheer **** of it knocks the breath from Emily, leaving her momentarily stunned. You can hear the soft creak of Eleanor’s leather boots as she shifts her weight, her powerful legs trapping Emily beneath her.

Emily squirms beneath her, trying to wriggle free, but Eleanor’s boots are planted firmly on her, keeping her immobilized. Eleanor’s eyes are cold, dark, and there’s a dangerous edge to her calmness. She leans forward slightly, her voice low and sharp. “You think you could ever take what’s mine?”

The words slice through the air, thick with venom. Emily freezes, the gravity of Eleanor’s threat sinking in. Her smirk falters as Eleanor presses her advantage, shifting her weight again, trapping Emily’s arms beneath her thighs. Emily’s struggles become more frantic, but it’s futile. Eleanor is too strong, too precise in her movements.

"You thought you could take him from me?" Eleanor's voice is cold as ice, her lips curling into a smile devoid of any warmth. "You thought you could replace me?"

Before Emily can respond, Eleanor’s powerful legs wrap around her neck in a humiliating reverse head scissor. The movement is fluid, almost graceful, as Eleanor traps Emily’s head between her thighs, her long legs locking tightly around her. You watch, breathless, as Emily’s face is **** against the leather of Eleanor’s boots, her body completely pinned beneath the relentless pressure of Eleanor’s legs.

Emily struggles, her arms flailing as she tries to pry Eleanor’s legs apart, but it’s useless. Eleanor’s thighs are like iron, effortlessly squeezing Emily’s head, cutting off her air. Emily gasps, her face turning red as she fights for breath, but Eleanor just tightens her grip, her boots gleaming under the light as her muscles flex.

"You really thought you could compete with me?" Eleanor mocks, her voice dripping with disdain. She shifts her position slightly, forcing Emily’s face deeper into her thighs. Emily’s muffled protests are barely audible, her hands weakly pushing against Eleanor’s legs, but she’s completely overpowered.

Eleanor tilts her head, her dark eyes watching Emily’s humiliation with cold satisfaction. "How pathetic," she says softly, her tone almost amused. "Did you really think you could win? That you could replace me with your childish games?"

You can see the panic in Emily’s eyes now, her movements becoming more frantic as she realizes just how trapped she is. Eleanor’s legs are unrelenting, her thighs pressing down harder with every passing second, cutting off more and more of Emily’s air. It’s clear now—Eleanor is punishing her, not just physically, but emotionally, making sure Emily knows exactly where she stands.

"You’re nothing compared to me," Eleanor continues, her voice calm and steady, as if she’s simply stating a fact. "He’ll always come back to me. You were just a distraction. A mistake."

Emily tries to shake her head, tries to protest, but Eleanor’s legs clamp down tighter, her boots digging into Emily’s skin. There’s no escape, no mercy. Eleanor leans back slightly, her hands resting casually on the floor as if this is nothing to her—just another way to show her dominance, to remind Emily of her place.

"You thought he’d choose you?" Eleanor’s voice is a cruel whisper now, barely audible over Emily’s **** gasps for breath. "He only wanted you because you were easy. Pathetic. And now look at you."

Eleanor shifts again, adjusting her hold to keep Emily completely immobilized. Emily’s face is flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her struggles growing weaker with each passing second. She’s trapped, humiliated, and there’s no way out.

And you… you watch it all unfold, captivated by the sheer power Eleanor holds over both of you. The woman you cheated with—now reduced to nothing more than a writhing mess at Eleanor’s feet, her body helpless against the strength of Eleanor’s legs.

As if to drive the point home, Eleanor leans forward, bringing her face closer to Emily’s. "I own him," she whispers, her voice dark and dangerous. "And now, I own you too."

With that, Eleanor releases her grip slightly, allowing Emily a brief moment to breathe. But it’s only a moment. Before Emily can even gather herself, Eleanor raises her foot, placing the sole of her boot directly on Emily’s face. She presses down, forcing Emily’s head back against the floor, grinding her heel into Emily’s cheek.

Emily groans, her hands weakly trying to push Eleanor’s boot away, but there’s no strength left in her. She’s completely at Eleanor’s mercy, humiliated and defeated. Eleanor’s boot remains firmly planted on her face, a symbol of her total domination.

"And now," Eleanor says softly, her voice almost a purr, "you’ll worship me, just like he does."

Emily’s face is flushed with shame, her body trembling beneath Eleanor’s foot. You can see the humiliation etched into every line of her face, the realization that she’s lost, that she’s nothing compared to Eleanor.

Eleanor looks at you then, her gaze cold and commanding. “On your knees,” she orders, her voice leaving no room for argument.

You don’t hesitate. You fall to your knees beside Emily, your heart pounding in your chest as you look up at Eleanor. She’s completely in control now, her boot still pressed firmly against Emily’s face, her other foot resting inches from you.

“Both of you,” Eleanor says softly, her eyes flicking between the two of you, “worship me.”

The command is clear, and you find yourself obeying without question. You lower your head, pressing your lips to Eleanor’s boot, feeling the cold leather against your skin. Emily follows suit, her breath ragged as she kisses the sole of Eleanor’s other boot, her humiliation complete.

Eleanor stands above you both, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. She’s won, and you both know it.