Chapter 71: Tongue-Tied Submission
The tremors in Lydia’s huge, meaty ass cheeks were just beginning to subside, a gentle, post-apocalyptic quake in the formidable muscle, when a new tension wired itself along her broad, sweat-slicked back. The cold eye of the camera felt heavier than Alex’s body had.
She pushed herself up, the deep, curving muscles of her shoulders and back knotting and shifting beneath her skin with the effort. Her powerful forearms trembled, not from weakness, but from the raw surplus of energy the last orgasm had unleashed, not spent. She rolled onto her side, then sat up in one fluid motion, her strong, defined abs clenching in a sharp, beautiful rack.
Alex was kneeling beside her, breathing hard, wiping her glistening chin with the back of her wrist, a look of triumphant ownership on her face. “Holy fuck, you beautiful animal,” Alex panted, her playful eyes wide. “You just gave them a show they’ll fucking bankrupt themselves rewinding.”
Lydia looked at her. The emerald in her eyes, visible above the black domino mask, had cooled from a feverish heat to a hard, gemstone clarity. The hollowed-out feeling after the climax wasn’t emptiness; it was space. Space she intended to fill.
“My turn,” Lydia said, her voice a low, rough scrape that wasn’t a request.
Alex’s grin widened, her trickster’s delight sparkling. “Ooh, the student becomes the—whoa!”
Lydia moved. Her powerful body, all dense Latina muscle and formidable weight, was suddenly a study in controlled violence. She didn’t ask. She took. One of her massive, muscular arms—the bicep a solid bulge, the triceps a horseshoe of strain—hooked under Alex’s shoulders. The other, just as thickly corded, slid beneath Alex’s compact, densely muscled thighs. Lydia’s broad back flexed, the lats flaring, the traps rising into twin mounds at the base of her strong, muscled neck.
With a grunt that came from her core, Lydia lifted Alex clear off the bed.
Alex let out a squeal of pure, thrilled surprise, her own dense limbs flailing for a second before she clung to Lydia’s neck. “Fuck yes! Manhandle me, you gorgeous brute!”
Lydia pivoted on the bed, the huge, rounded globes of her ass flexing and jiggling with the motion, her wide hips powering the turn. She deposited Alex onto the tangled silk with a soft thud, right where she herself had been lying moments before. Alex landed on her back, her helmet-short black hair fanning out, her electric blue thong a shock of color against her skin. She was giggling, a bubbling, unrestrained sound of arousal and amusement.
Lydia loomed over her, kneeling between Alex’s splayed legs. The difference in their frames was staggering. Lydia was a landscape of power: the sweeping breadth of her shoulders, the heavy, firm rounds of her huge breasts sitting high and impossibly pert above her ribcage, their dark pink nipples peaked tight. Her waist was a slim, powerful cinch above the dramatic flare of her strong, muscular hips and the profound, grooved lines of her obliques that pointed like arrows toward her smooth, shaven pelvis. The black mask made her expression inscrutable, but the set of her clear, sharp jaw was all command.
Alex looked up at her, utterly captivated. She turned her head to the camera, her expression one of mock distress. “You see this, you pack of jealous voyeurs? Look at this magnificent she-beast she’s turned into! She’s gonna break me in half and I’m gonna thank her for the fucking privilege!”
“Quiet,” Lydia ordered, her voice not loud, but absolute.
Alex’s mouth snapped shut, a delighted smile playing on her lips. She obeyed.
Lydia’s gaze raked down Alex’s body, from her high, firm breasts to the metallic blue triangle barely containing her. Then she brought her hands down. Not gently. They clapped onto the solid, meaty columns of Alex’s thighs with an audible smack. Lydia’s fingers, strong and sure, dug into the hard, defined quadriceps, her thumbs pressing deep into the sensitive, meaty flesh of Alex’s inner thighs.
A jolt went through Alex. A sharp inhale. “Oh, fuck.”
Lydia began to work. Her strong hands kneaded the dense muscle, her powerful forearms flexing with the motion. She massaged in firm, circular presses, learning the terrain of Alex’s compact, powerful legs—the teardrop sweep of the vastus medialis, the thick cord of the hamstring beneath her palms, the tender give of the inner adductor under her thumbs. It wasn’t a sensual rub. It was a possessive manipulation, a claiming of the very source of Alex’s strength.
Alex moaned, her head falling back. “Your hands… shit, lover, your hands are like fucking vices. I can feel you in my bones.”
“Take it off,” Lydia said, her thumbs pressing a particularly deep point that made Alex’s whole leg twitch.
“What?” Alex gasped, her playful composure fraying.
Lydia leaned forward, her huge breasts swaying with the motion. “The bra. Take it off. Show me. Show them.”
It was not a seductive whisper. It was a directive. And Alex, so utterly turned on by the physical dominance, by the unhesitating command in Lydia’s tone, obeyed without thought. Her hands flew behind her back, fumbling for the clasp. In seconds, the bra was gone, tossed aside.
Alex’s breasts were high and round, firm perfect mounds on her chest. The nipples were already hard, dark points.
“Beautiful,” Lydia stated, as if appraising an asset. Her hands never stopped their deep, kneading work on Alex’s thighs. The muscles under her palms jumped and softened in turn.
“Please,” Alex breathed, her trickster persona melting into raw need. Her hands came up, but didn’t touch Lydia. They gripped the sheets at her sides. “Please, SexyHellcat. I’m so wet for you. I’m dripping in this stupid thong. Make me cum. Please, just fuck me. Use me. Make me your bitch.”
Lydia listened, her emerald eyes unblinking behind the mask. A slow smile touched her lips. She said nothing.
Instead, she leaned down further. Her long black hair brushed against Alex’s stomach. She kept one hand anchored on Alex’s right thigh, the fingers still working the muscle, while she brought her mouth to Alex’s right breast.
She didn’t suckle. She teased. Her tongue, hot and flat, licked a slow, broad circle around the areola, avoiding the nipple completely. She blew a cool breath on the wet trail.
Alex whimpered. “Tease. You fucking gorgeous tease.”
Lydia then drew the hard nipple into her mouth, sucking with just enough pressure to make Alex arch her back off the bed. She swirled her tongue around the tip, then grazed it with her teeth.
“Yes! Oh god, yes, just like that! More, babe, more!” Alex’s hands flew to Lydia’s head, her fingers tangling in the black silk of her hair. She didn’t push, but she held on, gently pressing Lydia’s face more tightly against her breast. “Suck my tits, you magnificent bitch. Claim them. They’re yours.”
Lydia obeyed, switching to the left breast, lavishing it with the same slow, torturous attention. She sucked deeply, her strong jaw working, while her hand continued its relentless massage of Alex’s thigh, the meaty quadricep flexing and relaxing under her grip. The dual sensations—the deep, pulling pleasure on her nipple and the intense, penetrating pressure on her leg—were driving Alex wild.
“I’m gonna cum,” Alex chanted, her voice rising to a desperate pitch. “Just from this, I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum for you. I need to. I need it so bad, hellcat, please!”
Abruptly, Lydia pulled her mouth away with a wet pop. She sat up fully, releasing Alex’s breast. Her own huge, firm breasts bounced once with the motion, settling perfectly. Her lips were slick, her expression serene. She looked down at Alex, who was panting, her eyes glazed with frustrated desire.
“No,” Lydia said, simple and final.
Alex stared, a protest dying on her lips. The denial was a cold shock, sharper than any touch.
Lydia’s strong hands slid down from Alex’s quads, over the knotted tension of her knees, to grip the very bottom of Alex’s hamstrings, right above the backs of her knees. Lydia’s fingers wrapped completely around the thick muscle. Her own massive biceps and triceps swelled, the powerful muscles in her broad back and shoulders cording with immense, focused strain.
With a low, guttural sound of effort that came from the very depths of her powerful core, Lydia lifted.
Alex’s legs, solid and heavy with muscle, rose into the air as if they were weightless. Lydia raised them until the bottoms of Alex’s feet pointed directly at the ceiling, the muscles of Alex’s calves and hamstrings pulled taut in a beautiful, strained line. The electric blue thong was now the only barrier, stretched tight against Alex’s completely shaved, dripping pussy, exposed in the most vulnerable, offered way.
Alex gasped, suspended, her body folded almost in half by Lydia’s incredible strength. The sudden shift, the feeling of being utterly physically controlled and displayed, stole her breath. She was putty in Lydia’s powerful hands.
Lydia held her there, a testament to raw power. Her own muscular legs were braced wide, the huge, meaty slabs of her quadriceps bulging, the deep separation between her hamstrings and inner thighs stark in the light. Her strong, defined abs were clenched in a rigid board to support the load. She looked down at Alex’s exposed, offered center, then up at the camera, her emerald eyes glinting behind the mask with a dark, promised vengeance.
“You begged to cum,” Lydia said, her voice a husky, violent purr. “But I decide when. I decide how.” She adjusted her grip, her powerful fingers digging into the tender flesh behind Alex’s knees. “And you haven’t begged nearly enough yet.”
Lydia held Alex’s legs aloft, the compact muscles of Alex’s calves pressing into the dense mounds of her own broad shoulders. Alex’s breath came in ragged hitches, her entire world narrowed to the fierce emerald gaze behind the black mask and the unbearable, wet heat between her own thighs, trapped behind the blue fabric. “Please,” Alex whimpered, the word stripped of all its playful pretense. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
“What do you want?” Lydia’s voice was calm, conversational, as if discussing the weather. Her strong, defined abs barely showed the strain of holding Alex’s formidable legs so effortlessly vertical.
“I want your mouth!” Alex cried out, her head thrashing side to time. “I want your tongue on my cunt, licking me, fucking me with it, just like I did to you! I want to come on your face!”
Lydia slowly shook her head, her long black hair swaying across the sharp line of her jaw. “Not good enough.” She began to lower Alex’s legs, not to release her, but to rearrange her. She guided them down, bringing Alex’s ankles together. Lydia’s massive biceps bulged, the powerful cords of her forearms standing in stark relief as she maneuvered the solid weight with precise control.
She brought Alex’s feet down, pressing the soles together, and then, in a move of sheer physical dominance, she trapped both of Alex’s ankles in the deep, warm valley between her own huge, firm breasts. The flesh yielded softly around Alex’s feet, a smothering, silken prison. Lydia looked down at the captive limbs, then back up at Alex’s flushed face.
“You’re mine to play with,” Lydia stated, her voice dropping to a husky register that vibrated through Alex’s bones. “Every part of you.”
She bent her head, her masked face hovering over Alex’s trapped feet. Then her tongue, pink and wet, darted out. She licked a slow, deliberate stripe from the arch of Alex’s right foot up to her ankle bone. The sensation was shocking, intimate, and wildly perverse. Alex jerked, a broken gasp escaping her.
“What the fuck…” Alex breathed, more turned on than she could comprehend.
“You taste like sweat and cheap carpet,” Lydia murmured, her breath hot on Alex’s skin. Then she took the delicate knob of Alex’s ankle into her mouth, sucking gently, her tongue circling the bone. She grazed the skin with her teeth, a subtle threat of possession. She moved to the other foot, lavishing it with the same obscene, worshipping attention, licking between the toes, sucking each one briefly into the heat of her mouth.
Alex was writhing, her strong, dense body twisting against the sheets. “Oh, god, you fucking maniac… that’s… nobody’s ever… fuck, babe, that’s so dirty…”
Lydia released her ankles from between her breasts. Without a word, she spread Alex’s feet wide apart, hooking them over the muscular caps of her own broad shoulders. The bottoms of Alex’s calves now rested firmly against the rounded deltoids of Lydia’s powerful shoulders, her thighs spread in a wide, vulnerable ‘V’. Alex’s blue thong was a glaring, soaked flag of surrender stretched over her shaven pussy.
“Look at you,” Lydia purred, her eyes raking down the exposed center of Alex’s body. “So open. So desperate.” She brought her hands up, her fingers—strong, with neatly trimmed nails—hovering just above Alex’s tensed and bulging quadriceps.
She then dragged her nails down, slowly, deliberately. They traced a fiery, whispering path down the outsides of Alex’s powerful legs, following the stark lines of muscle from hip to knee. The touch was feather-light but intensely focused, a promise of sharper things. Alex’s skin broke out in goosebumps, a shudder wracking her compact frame.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” Lydia whispered, her nails pausing at Alex’s knees before continuing their torturous descent down her inner thighs, avoiding the epicenter of her need by mere millimeters.
“I want you to fuck me!” Alex begged, her playful persona utterly incinerated by raw need. Her voice was a ragged, honest scrape. “Use your fingers, use your tongue, use your fucking fist, I don’t care! Just make me cum! Please, SexyHellcat, I’m begging you! I’m a desperate, dripping bitch and I need you to ruin me!”
Lydia’s nails reached the tops of Alex’s thighs, right where the electric blue straps of the thong bit into her skin. She hooked her fingers under the thin, metallic bands. She didn’t look at Alex. She held her gaze on the camera, her emerald eyes smoldering with controlled intent behind the mask.
“You hear that?” Lydia said to the lens, her voice a low, thrilling rumble. “She’s finally asking nicely.”
In one powerful, fluid motion, Lydia pulled. There was a sharp, ripping sound as the flimsy fabric tore apart at the hips. She ripped the thong straight up Alex’s legs, the soaked material peeling away from Alex’s swollen, glistening lips with a wet, sticky sound. She yanked it past Alex’s feet, now holding a crumpled, damp wad of brilliant blue in her left fist.
Alex cried out, part surprise, part relief at the sudden, total exposure. The cool air hit her wet flesh, and she bucked, her completely bare pussy slick and open.
Lydia didn’t touch her there. She brought the wadded panties to her face. She turned fully to the camera, holding its gaze as she shoved the soaked fabric against her nose and mouth. She inhaled deeply, her eyes fluttering closed for a long, dramatic second. The scent was potent—musky, salty, sweet, unmistakably female arousal.
When her eyes opened, they were blazing. She held the panties just below her chin, addressing the unseen viewers. “You smell that?” she breathed, her voice thick with a performative, hungry awe. “That’s the smell of a fucking powerhouse ready to explode. It’s making my mouth water. It’s making my cunt clench.”
She turned her head slightly, licking her lips, her sharp jawline taut. “What should I do with her?” she asked the camera, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “Should I tease her some more? Should I make her beg until she cries?” Her right hand, meanwhile, drifted down to Alex’s tensed, bulging left quad. She began to rub it gently, her strong fingers kneading the rock-hard muscle, a soothing contrast to the violent exposure. The backs of Alex’s thighs were pressed firmly into the unyielding, carved surface of Lydia’s own abdomen.
“Tell me,” Lydia whispered, her attention swiveling back down to Alex, whose eyes were wide and pleading. “What do I do next?”
Alex, pushed past all coherency, could only sob one word, her body arching in a desperate, silent offering. “Please.”
Lydia’s smile finally reached her eyes. She dropped the ruined blue panties onto the floor. Her hands, both of them now, came to rest on Alex’s spread knees. “Since you asked so beautifully.”
Lydia’s grin behind the mask was a predator’s flash of white. Her strong hands, which had been resting on Alex’s knees, now slid down the solid, trembling lengths of Alex’s outer thighs. The muscle there was like braided steel under slick skin. “You saved it for me,” Lydia purred, her voice dropping into a register of intimate remembrance. “That text. You said your next orgasm was a gift. My gift.”
Alex’s breath hitched, her eyes widening. The memory of that message, sent days ago in a moment of anticipatory lust, now felt like a sentence. “Yes,” she gasped. “It’s yours. It’s all yours, hellcat. Please, take it. I’m giving it to you.”
“But gifts should be unwrapped slowly,” Lydia said, her tone conversational, even friendly. She leaned forward, the immense, firm rounds of her breasts swaying close to Alex’s face before she planted her powerful forearms on the bed, caging Alex’s head. Her broad shoulders and bulging trapezius muscles formed a canopy of pure Latina power. She was close enough for Alex to feel the heat coming off her smooth, shaven pelvis.
Alex instinctively bucked her hips upwards, grinding her bare, soaked pussy against the hard, defined plane of Lydia’s lower abs. The friction was maddening, insufficient, a tease of what she needed. A desperate whine escaped her. “Lover, please… I’m rubbing myself raw on your fucking six-pack and it’s not enough. I need pressure. I need your skin.”
Lydia watched her, those emerald eyes cool and assessing behind the mask. She allowed the grinding for a few more seconds, feeling Alex’s wetness smear across her taut stomach. Then she pushed herself up, breaking the contact. Alex groaned in pure frustration, her head falling back.
“Look at you,” Lydia said, shifting her weight onto her knees. Her huge, meaty ass cheeks settled onto the backs of her own formidable hamstrings, a testament to their size and density. “My desperate little reward.” She reached out with one hand, her fingers tracing the deeply grooved lines of her own obliques, following the path from her slim, powerful waist down to her hip bone. She collected some of Alex’s slick wetness that had transferred there. She held her glistening fingertips up to the camera light, turning them slowly. “See that? That’s how much my pretty bitch wants her present.”
She then brought those same fingers to Alex’s mouth, painting her lips with her own arousal. “Taste how much you want me.”
Alex’s tongue shot out, lapping hungrily at the offered fingers, sucking them deep into her mouth with obscene, grateful noises. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “Fuck, yes,” she mumbled around the digits. “I taste so fucking good for you.”
Lydia pulled her fingers free with a pop. She then placed both hands on Alex’s hips, her strong fingers spanning the compact bones. “You want your reward?” she whispered.
“Yes! God, yes!”
“Then earn it.” Lydia’s voice held a sudden, playful cruelty. She pushed Alex’s left leg firmly across her body, forcing it to straighten out on the bed. Alex’s left hip cranked upward, her lower body twisting into a strained, diagonal line. The position exposed the full, tensed curve of her ass and the shadowed cleft between. Her stomach muscles contorted in a beautiful, strained twist, leading up to her shoulders which remained flat on the mattress.
“Oh, you’re a devil,” Alex gasped, the unnatural stretch pulling at her dense musculature.
Lydia didn’t answer. Her hands, firm and unyielding, grasped Alex’s hips more firmly. She leaned close, her breath hot on Alex’s ear. “Turn over,” she commanded, her voice a low, thrilling vibration. “Look at the camera. Show them your face when you get what you’ve been saving for me.”
With that, Lydia began to turn her. It was a steady, undeniable pressure from her powerful arms and core. Alex, pliant and writhing, had no choice but to roll onto her stomach. She ended up on her chin, her face tilted sideways, her cheek pressed into the silk. Her helmet-cut black hair framed her flushed features perfectly. She was grinning, a wild, desperate smile aimed directly at the camera’s lens. Her ass was now high in the air, the two rounded, muscular globes presented like an offering. Her back was a beautiful, flexed arch, her shoulder blades pinched together.
Lydia knelt behind her, a goddess of vengeance and reward. She placed her hands on the sweeping curves of Alex’s ass, savoring the dense, firm muscle. She leaned down, her long black hair curtaining them for a moment. “This,” she hissed for only Alex to hear, “is what you saved for me. This perfect, tight, begging ass.”
“It’s yours,” Alex panted into the sheets, her voice muffled but fervent. “Everything’s yours. Just fucking take it, sexy bitch. Make me scream.”
Lydia’s thumbs descended, parting the firm cheeks. The pink, clenched pucker from their earlier session was visible, and below it, Alex’s pussy lips, slick and swollen, glistened under the light. Lydia lowered her head. She didn’t go for her cunt. She placed a single, open-mouthed kiss on the small of Alex’s back, right at the base of her spine. Then she licked a long, wet trail downward.
Alex shuddered violently, a full-body convulsion. “Yes… oh god, yes, anywhere, just touch me…”
Lydia’s tongue reached the top of Alex’s ass cleft. She paused, blowing a soft stream of air over the damp skin. Then she continued, her tongue flat and hot, licking a broad, wet stripe straight through the valley, over the tight pucker, and down to the very top of Alex’s soaked slit.
Alex screamed, a raw, fractured sound. Her fingers clawed at the sheets. “Don’t stop! Don’t you fucking stop!”
Lydia shifted her weight, settling onto the heels of her feet. Her own powerful thighs, the meaty quads and deep-cut hamstrings, tensed and bulged with the stable, kneeling position. She brought her hands back to Alex’s hips, her grip anchoring them in place. Then she lowered her mouth again.
This time, there was no teasing path. Her mouth went directly to Alex’s cunt. She didn’t start slow. She sealed her lips over the entire swollen, aching flesh and sucked, hard.
The sound Alex made was inhuman. Her back arched so sharply it looked painful, every muscle in her compact frame standing in stark, quivering relief. Lydia sucked, using a ruthless, rhythmic pressure that pulled Alex’s clit and outer lips deep into the heat of her mouth. Her tongue, a relentless, blunt force, fucked upwards against the sensitized bundle of nerves.
“FUCK! FUCK! LOVER! RIGHT THERE! THAT’S IT!” Alex babbled, her words dissolving into a stream of gasped obscenities. She ground her hips back against Lydia’s face, fucking her own pussy onto that devouring mouth. The slick, wet, slapping sounds filled the room, a brutal music.
Lydia released her suction with a wet gasp for air, her own need a coiling spring in her gut. “You like that, my saved-up gift?” she growled, her voice ragged. She didn’t wait for an answer. She dove back in, her tongue spearing deep inside Alex this time, fucking into her with short, rapid plunges before curling upwards to flick her clit.
“I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum right now!” Alex shrieked, the warning torn from her. Her whole body was rigid, trembling on a wire. “Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop, I’m giving it to you, I’m giving you my gift!”
Lydia felt the telltale clenching around her tongue, the frantic pulse of Alex’s body moving beyond her control. She redoubled her efforts, her strong hands pinning Alex’s hips down now, refusing to let her escape the onslaught. She sucked Alex’s clit back between her lips, applying a relentless, vibrating pressure with her tongue.
It broke. Alex’s orgasm erupted with a silent, seizing violence. Her scream was soundless, her mouth gaping wide against the silk, her eyes staring blind at the camera. Her ass clenched, the powerful muscles in her cheeks and hamstrings locking into stone. Her cunt convulsed around Lydia’s invading tongue in rapid, fluttering pulses.
Lydia rode it out, milking the climax with her mouth until Alex’s body finally collapsed, shuddering and spent, onto the bed. She pulled back slowly, her chin glistening. She looked at the wrecked woman, then turned her masked face to the camera, her emerald eyes blazing with triumphant possession.
“The gift,” she announced to the lens, her voice husky and spent, “has been opened.”