She tramples over you with her feet!

“Silly little bitch.”

You’re powerless. Defenseless.

Hopeless.

“All that muscle, and where’d it get you, huh? Down on the ground, looking as pathetic as you are right now. Letting little girls just walk all over you.”

As if on cue, her right foot pressed down on your sternum.

You grunt through gritted teeth, determined not to give her the satisfaction.

“But you’re a big strong man, aren’t you? You’re not supposed to let little girls just have their way with you, right?”

You grunt again as she presses down on your ribcage.

Her foot is soft and dainty, especially wrapped in thigh high lace, but the weight that she’s exuding down on you is anything but comfortable.

Especially as she presses down with the fleshy pad of her arched foot, more and more.

“Unless you really are just that pathetic.” Her sneering tone is like a verbal scalpel, cutting underneath your skin with surgical precision and getting to where it really hurts.

Your ego.

“Fuck you,” you groan out defiantly.

“You’d be so lucky,” she mocks you right back, right before lifting with her other leg to now go fullweight on your body completely.
{if k_htied=1}
"And you almost were, weren't ya?" A dangerous edge flashes through her deepblue eyes. "You stripped me, in front of all these people. Tied up my arms even..." She wiggles her still restrained arms, shaking her goddess like bare chest in the process. "Had me all defenseless and ready to be fucked." Venom drips from her words, covered in honey from her faux innocent voice.

Another small hop cuts off your retort before it begins. "And now look at you... On your back and destroyed. Destroyed by a weak little girl who literally did it with her hands tied behind her back. Fucking pathetic." {endif}

Mother-

“Fuck!” You hold nothing back as she stands on you with both feet on your sternum.

Every pound of her slim yet athletic figure all pressing on your abdominal regions all at once.

“You really like that word, huh?” she giggles, bouncing up and down on your chest with all that weight coming down like a human-sized dumbbell.

Fuck you.

“I like fucking too. Only not with wannabe tough guys like you. No, I like fucking my husband,” Kelsey continues to mock you, bending her knees slightly to further leverage her weight down. “He’s a real man.”

She then jumps- barely half a foot up before landing solefirst on your abdomen.

You groan and grunt at the same time.

“A real man who knows how to handle his woman.”

She jumps hard…and lands hard on your sternum.

You grunt louder and louder.

Kelsey jumps yet again…and lands even harsher on your bare chest.

The wind is forcibly expelled from your diaphragm.

“Don’t you wish you were a real man like my husband?” my wife continues mocking you with almost bratty superiority.

“Get…off,” you try to growl out, but the bass and menace is seriously lacking in your voice now.

“Nope!” Shaking her head with a cruel laugh, she jumps up and lands on your body one last time- this time truly stealing your breath away.

And when it’s done, you’re no longer thinking of ways to tell her off.

Beyond disoriented, you just want it to be over.

“You’re not a real man at all, ‘Champ’.” With that scathing taunt, Kelsey truly inflicts a critical blow to your pride.

“No, you’re just my little boytoy, aren’t you?” With one foot, she almost sensually slides it along your bruised chest muscles, teasing your pectoral muscles with her big toe.

Fuck, not like this.

“My little punching bag before I go home tonight for my big reward.”

Her lace-covered foot rubs against your throat, making you flinch at first- purely out of spite.

Then she traces over your jawline, finding only faint resistance from your body.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

Your fingers aren’t even strong enough to ball up into fists.

She finally presses her toes up against your mouth, your lips defiantly sealed.

The crowd is watching with bated breath.

Kelsey is leering down on you in her full outfit, her breasts rising and falling in an obvious indication of how excited (or euphoric) she was.

Not. Like. This.

“Kiss,” she whispers down on you.

You don’t want to.

But you do.

Resistance drained from your body completely, you pucker up and kiss her toes.

Once was all it took.

“Good boy.”

With that same foot, she turned your head to the side, putting one cheek to the mat while the other was pinned by her sole.

Out of your periphery, you can see Kelsey striking a smug pose as the referee counts you down.

“1…2…3!”

It’s over.