Vicky... sort of

A few brief tugs suddenly yank El Diabla off her feet. She still hung onto the whip, Vicky just grinning as she dragged the luchadora into her. Diablo winced as her tits were dragged across the arena floor, burning her nipples.
“Come to me, bitch, and we can really get on with the pain.”
“I think not,” Diabla growled when she was at the mistress’ feet. Vicky raised her high-heeled boot to kick Diabla in the head, but she rolled between her legs nimbly and rose up behind her.

Vicky screamed, forgetting to let go of the whip right away so that Diabla pulled it with her, pulling it tightly against her vagina. She squirmed and stomped, trying to block out the agony before she dropped the whip by coincidence. She turned quickly and threw a punch at El Diabla, but she was already ducking, instantly locking her mouth onto Vicky’s cunt through her leather thong.

“Aaaaahhh!” Vicky moaned, her voice swinging between surprise and anger to lust. The bucked her hips, caught up in the sudden **** on her womanhood. Diabla was sucking and slurping so expertly she could feel it through the leather. She hooked her lips around the edge of her thong, peeling it aside and digging into her cunt like a woman possessed.

“OHHHHHH GOD YEA!” Vicky screamed at the expert attention to her cunt, grabbing Diabla by her bright red hair and bucking hard into her face.