Chapter 5 - On Dominance: Christie Montiero


                                                    On Dominance
                                                        by Volpone

                                         Chapter 5: Christie Montiero


          The next evening, it was the lovely Brazilian capoeira artist who faced Quinn. She was in her
traditional gold top and sparkling silver metallic pants. Calling it a top was actually exaggerating since
it covered less than half of each breast but was adequate to hide her nipples. She looked at Quinn
speculatively with a slight smile teasing the corners of her mouth as she stretched and loosened up.
          Some time between last night's match and her awakening this morning, Christie had decided
that she would see just how true he was to his word about a competitor hanging from his dick until he
gave up. She wouldn't actually hang from it, but if she could get a grip, she would see if she could use
the leverage to make him submit. Even if she didn't manage to make him submit, she would control
where he was putting that thing and when. She wanted to be the one to decide if and when they fucked.
And she intended to be the first to beat him. Somehow she hoped to manage both.
          “Begin!” came the call beginning the match.
          She began the rhythmic ginga movement of capoeia, changing directions and then back,
keeping her eyes on him, watching how he his weight shifted so perhaps she could catch him with his
momentum going the wrong way if only long enough to cartwheel in close enough to score a hit. It
would make him cautious and less confident in his almost flawless defense so far.
          His stance was easy and well-balanced, hands near his waist and forearms roughly parallel to
the mat, left foot slightly forward of the two, placing his right leg in a slightly better position to propel
him forward. She shifted her motion back and forth several times, watching him and waiting for him to
commit himself just far enough...
          But he just followed her with his eyes. He might have been a fashion mannequin for all he
moved. It was almost eerie... unnatural. If it weren't for the rise and fall of his breathing and his eyes,
she'd have sworn he was a statue.
          Over a minute of this and he still showed no sign of movement.
          Deciding to see if she could pull him in, she began to execute a couple of aú, the cartwheel
motion of capoeira, but still he waited.
          She was deciding if she should take the offensive when she went into another aú and without
any forewarning, he was in motion faster than she could have anticipated. She should have realized
from his bout against Kasumi how fast he was, but facing him in the ring was completely different.
          Quinn caught her perfectly midway through the cartwheel. Had he been a fraction of a second
slower, she would have brought her trailing leg over into a kick. As it was, she didn't even have a
chance to react.
          The next thing Christie knew, she was pinned on her shoulders with his shins pinning her upper
arms to the canvas. He had her bent so that he controlled her with her calves caught under his arms,
trapping her in a roll-up.
          This had the secondary action of putting Christie's head under Quinn's kilt. From this angle, his
equipment was hanging about ten inches over her face, but regardless of many men's opinions, a penis
was not attractive... even one like Quinn's. Besides, in her opinion, flaccid was never a good look on
men. In fact, considering Quinn, she found it a bit insulting.
          She tried to relax a moment since being pinned wasn't the end of the match. She was flexible
enough to hold this position indefinitely without submitting. And one thing she was sure of... no matter
how good he was, Quinn wasn't able to knock her unconscious with his dick. It did not mean she
wanted to stay there, but it gave her a rest.
          While she wasn't able to see anything beyond his kilt, she could still feel what was going on
outside, so when she felt his fingers slide under the edge of her top, she took exception.
          “Hey! Knock that off!” she yelled at him, and she slapped at him as best she could, though
being pinned as she was, she had no leverage and no room to swing. All she could manage was to hit
him on the hip with a half-hearted blow that did nothing but possibly get his attention.
          “No?” his voice came to her. She could hear in his voice that something was coming, and if she
had figured him correctly, she knew she was probably about to lose her top completely.
          She was wrong.
          He said, “Very well,” and his fingers vanished from her top, making her wonder what the hell
had just happened.
          She didn't wait for long.
          She felt him start to move, and she thought she might get a brief opportunity to straighten and
push off, kicking him as he got up.
          Unfortunately for Christie, when he stood (and he did it fast), he didn't quite let go... exactly.
          As he stood, her arms were freed and she pushed off, trying to kip with just her shoulders.
Straightening her back, she straightened her legs...
          And he lifted her completely off the canvas by his new grip on her tight, silver pants. Her
momentum was still rising, but his tug was faster yet and it popped her out of her pants, flipping her up
and out to land ungracefully face-down.
          She didn't stay down for more than the second it took her to roll and get her feet under her. She
spun to face him, her eyes flashing in anger. He stood half the ring away, rolling up her pants and
tossing them to Reiko and saying, “Would you mind holding those for her?”
          Turning back to his opponent, he was unsurprised to see she shaved everything below her neck.
          When she realized she wasn't going to be attacked immediately, she paused and rubbed at the
skin of her thighs which had been chafed by his maneuver.
          “Ow! That hurt!” she informed him as she rubbed, looking at him accusingly.
          Quinn raised an eyebrow and gave her a strange look. In spite of her words, he found her
Brazilian accent charming.
          “Uhh... sorry?”
          She suddenly realized how silly her complaint was, and she had to laugh at herself. She was
standing half-naked facing a man she was about to kick in the head if she'd got the chance, and now she
was complaining that he had been a bit rough. Stupid.
          Embarrassment made you do strange things. The funny part was she hadn't even realized she
was embarrassed. She'd watched this man beat three excellent fighters (and to be honest, he had beaten
them), strip them down and fuck them silly. And they had each enjoyed it, even if they had struggled at
first. Any one of them could have quit at any time. Any of them could have backed out before getting
into the ring.
          Instead, all of them (herself included) had gotten into the ring, fought, and finally gotten
sexually involved with this strange man. They had spoken after the last match, and all three had
admitted that given the chance, they would eagerly get back in the ring with him... or into bed... or a
hammock... or a trapeze...
          Christie suddenly realized she had come here this evening expecting to both be beaten and
fucked by Quinn. Maybe she even wanted to be. When she realized she was already wet, she kicked
herself mentally. He had her completely psyched out, and he'd barely laid a finger on her. The problem
was she kept seeing the vivid image of Kasumi suspended in the corner as she screamed Quinn's name
and squirted as he fucked her ass...
          Mika's call of “Five minutes!” suddenly reminded her she was still in the early part of a very
important fight, and she could quit or she could try to do what he claimed they were there for and at
least attempt to kick his ass.
          Quinn watched all this play out in Christie's mind in a matter of a few seconds, then watched as
her attitude changed.
          Now she was serious.
          He held his ground as she started her movement, slowly dancing closer to him as she moved
side to side.
          She attacked, and when he threw her, she bounced up and came back as strong as before. She
felt his finger hook her top and didn't even react but used the chance to try a backhand strike that
grazed his cheek and would have landed solidly if not for his incredible reflexes.
          They fought past the ten minute mark, but in spite of her resolve and coming close on several
occasions, he was still the better fighter. On three occasions, she felt him do something at the last
second that changed what could have been a devastating attack into what was merely painful.
          After the third time, she stood and called out, “Enough! I submit. The match is over.”
          Glancing at the clock, she saw not quite fifteen minutes had elapsed from the start of the match.
          His eyebrows went up in surprise.
          She walked up to Quinn and put her hands on her hips, staring at him unsmilingly.
“I can't beat you. Three times now you didn't beat me when you could.” She took a step closer
and looked angry. “I'm not a whore. I'm not going to let you fuck me just so I can make it to thirty
minutes and make more money.”
          Quinn said softly but clearly, “If you thought I was paying you to play whore, I apologize. You
fought well. That's what I paid for. But you have pride. I should have realized money would be an
insult.” He paused a moment, then asked, “So what now?”
          She stepped back a bit and then started moving in ginga again. A challenging smile broke over
her face.
          "No prize money. No time limit. You think you're gonna fuck me? You gotta prove you're
better. You're gonna have to knock me down to take what you want. And I'm not gonna make it easy.”
          Quinn looked at her, his eyes traveling up and down her naked form.
          He reached down and unfastened the belt holding his kilt in place.
          “Just to make things even,” he explained, and tossed his clothes to Mika, who was smiling at
him. “Hold these for me, if you would please.”
          He fell into position and told Christie, “This is called zhopach.”
          Christie got her wish. He proved he was better, and he did it by taking her down both by throws
and finally by literally kicking her (side foot) in the ass and into the ropes. She spun as best she could
to fall backwards into the ropes, but Quinn was on her and had her hooked in the top ropes before she
could recover.
          Her eyes flashed defiance and she said, “I'm not giving up. You want me? You gotta try and
take me.”
          “Your rules,” he said.
          Quinn leaned down and reached under her and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head
back and forcing her into a long back-bend.
          Christie used his closeness and lifted both legs up, managing to hook one leg around in front of
his chest, the other across his back. She hooked her ankles and got him into a leg lock, her feet up
above his right shoulder.
          It was the closest any woman so far had come to beating him. So far, this was the first time any
had even managed a good submission hold on him.
          “You sure you want to go with that?” he asked, and his right palm snapped up and swatted her
ass hard enough to leave a bright pink imprint.
          She responded by bearing down and trying to exert what leverage she had. She squeezed, but
she could feel him steady himself. If she did this, she was going to have to be serious or give up.
So, she squeezed harder. She thought she should be cutting off either some air or blood flow.
          “You're absolutely sure you want to do this?” he asked again, and this time he reached up high
enough so he could fold his arm back and press his thumb directly over her clit. He began to rub in a
circular motion. He could feel as well as see how wet she was. In spite of her refusal to give in, she
was incredibly excited.
          Christie squeezed again, but he pressed against her clit harder and now the pressure threatened
to grind the sensitive pink bud back into her pubic bone. It hurt, and the more she bore down, the more
he returned the pressure.
          Gritting her teeth, she tried to shake herself enough to dislodge his thumb from its very
sensitive spot. His thumb did shift, but only by slipping down enough to enter her bare pussy. Now he
had her impaled and the knuckle of his left hand was rubbing against her clit as he moved his hand,
masturbating her hard.
          She thrashed back and forth, trying to avoid what they both knew was going to happen unless
she let go.
          Finally, she arched up her back and cried out a word that Quinn recalled was Brazilian
Portuguese for “Fuck!” or something similar, and she came. She didn't lose her leg lock on Quinn, but
that didn't stop her from having a dandy orgasm.
          When she was done, Quinn said in a don't-say-I-didn't-warn-you manner, “Okay... this is
zhopach, too.”
          He reached across his chest and jabbed his right thumb into a nerve cluster near her left hip
joint. A jolt like electricity ran down her leg, and suddenly her leg was numb. She tried to keep her
ankles locked, but he shifted his shoulders a time or two causing her feet to lose their grip and drop to
the canvas.
          Left with only one usable limb and her head, she stopped struggling and tried to think of what
to do next. Maybe if she could hook her leg around him and use him for leverage, she might be able to
free her right arm...
          It seemed for a moment as if Quinn intended to help her as he moved in closer, but just one try
at using her remaining leg taught her that without his willing cooperation, she was stuck. She needed
her good leg for purchase, and if she tried to use it to kick him or hook him, she lost what little stability
she had, hanging by her shoulders from the ropes.
          “Your rules,” he reminded her, and he once again reached under the ropes to take her by the hair
at the back of her head and pulled back, forcing her head backwards, increasing the pressure on her
neck and back until she had to use her one good leg to push up to take some of the pressure off. He had
her in a back-bend she couldn't avoid. She couldn't even see him like this.
          But she knew where he was, because a moment later, she felt his fingers rubbing between her
thighs, then pulling firmly at her nipples, slipping between her ass cheeks and even probing inside her a
bit, all as if testing to see how she reacted.
          Whether she wanted to admit it or not, he had her incredibly ready, and she was ready to move
on to something of a more pelvic nature.
          Quinn's plan was a bit different.
          Keeping her pulled into her back bend, he moved outside the ropes until she was facing him but
upside-down. Well... facing him was incorrect since it was her face and his erection.
          Placing a hand behind her neck for support, he moved in until she had a choice of opening her
mouth or trying to refuse him.
          Christie chose to open, and she then had a mouthful of Quinn to take her mind off her situation.
          He began moving his hips just a couple of inches, and his free hand strayed up until it was on her chest,
tugging firmly at her nipples... first one, then the other, giving a half dozen good pulls before shifting to
make sure neither one felt neglected.
          As was true of all hentai women of Quinn's acquaintance, the Brazilian beauty clearly had
either plenty of experience or a total lack of gag reflex because in just moments, she was urging him
further and further, arching her back and trying to take him as deeply as she could manage.
          Not being one to take such an offering lightly, Quinn accepted her invitation and started moving
his hips more strongly, and in moments he was schtupping the fabulous woman's mouth until she was
taking every inch of him and reveling in it.
          “Should we leave them alone?” Reiko wondered aloud. “The match is over.”
          Mika smiled, not taking her eyes from the action in the ring.
          “If they want to be alone, they'll ask.”
          Kasumi also gave a smile and nod of agreement. They might not be big on watching porn, but
watching a man who had taken you (quite well) in the very recent past was something different.
          The three settled in to watch the action progress.
          It took about three minutes, but Christie had already cum twice so Quinn figured there was no
reason to hold back, especially when he knew he'd be ready for another sizable climax in about ten
minutes.
          "Ready, Christie?”
          Knowing he was nearing the edge, she seemed to grow even more excited and demanding,
arching her back and pressing into the ropes harder, her cheeks caved in as she applied more suction,
almost desperately trying to drive him over the brink.
          Then she got what she had been after as he shot a load of warm, slick semen against the back of
her tongue. She gulped eagerly, the flavor surprisingly sweet to her.
          After she had nursed the last of his load into her mouth, he moved to between her thighs.
Taking her limp leg, he gave her a slight pull and another jab. A shock ran down her leg all the way to
her ankle, and she could feel control of her muscles slowly return.
          In the meantime, he lifted both her knees up, moved in closer and she gave a loud gasp and
arched up strongly as he penetrated her. As soon as she was able, she hooked her ankles behind him,
not to attempt a leg lock as before, but to help her meet his thrusts. This let him move his hands so he
was supporting her by the ass and sliding in almost balls-deep with each push.
          Christie's shoulders had been getting a bit tired, but this made her forget any idea of wanting to
move. Quinn's stroke was spot on, and it would only take a couple more before...
          “AhhhHHHHH... GGGGGAAAAAHHH!” she cried as she thrashed in climax, jerking herself
so hard she bounced in the ropes.
          If she came that hard without any extra help from Quinn's special Talent, he wondered what
might happen if he...
          Christie cried out again and bounced again, but this time, she gushed around him as she came in
a very wet way. Her legs shook as her body overloaded, then after her world-class orgasm had
subsided, she hung limp, breathing hard, not even able to support her own weight for the moment.
          “Not done already, are you, Christie?” he asked, lowering her down and then releasing her from
the ropes. She didn't collapse, but she stood on legs that were clearly unsteady and used the top rope to
steady herself.
          “Not if I don't need to stand,” she informed him.
          “Good,” and he swept her up and carried her to the corner. Lifting her up, she cooperated and
hooked her legs over the top rope as she faced the turnbuckle.
          “Just don't... hang me here...” she asked him, recalling what he had done to Reiko. She was
almost exhausted, and she didn't think she could manage very long upside-down.
He shifted his grip and she felt herself starting to fall. Her hands came up over her head and
grabbed him around the neck desperately. It seemed to be what he wanted because he gave a rumbling
chuckle and moved in to support her again, his arms around her waist.
          As he moved in close, she felt him left her up and the tip of his erection brush against her. She
wasn't positive, and then he began to lower her down, and Christie realized what he intended. He was
going to do exactly what had excited her to watch the other night, but this time with herself in the
starring role instead of Kasumi... well, almost. She had her knees hooked over the top rope instead of
her ankles, so this was certainly more comfortable.
          She enjoyed anal as much as any other form of sex, and had experienced some very notable
climaxes that way, but she suspected something special this time.
          She was absolutely right.
          Relaxing but controlling just how fast she was impaled, the gorgeous Brazilian woman eased
herself down at just the right rate to let her enjoy the entire process until she had twenty-five
centimeters of rigid cock buried in her ass.
          As she slid south, Quinn let his hands stay at about the same level, and as she hit bottom, his
hands were filled with her abundant chest. With these convenient handles, he manhandled her breasts
as he used them to help hold her in place, his fingers tugging her nipples as if they were rubber bands
put there strictly for his own amusement.
          By holding her, he gave her the chance to use her left hand to hold behind his neck and her right
to rub herself as he started fucking her back door.
          There were no time calls, so he took his time to see how many orgasms he could coax from the
Brazilian beauty whose ass he was abusing. Christie had no objection, proving she was both beautiful
and smart.
          She'd never been a woman who ejaculated, but she discovered this could change given the right
partner. The day before, Kasumi had squirted four separate times. Christie beat her by one. The actual
number of climaxes was debatable, but by the time Quinn was ready to finish, she was trembling and
whimpering with each thrust, exhausted but loving every moment. She had given up stimulating
herself, needing both hands once again to hold herself where he could use her derriere the way she was
enjoying.
          It was almost fifty minutes after the opening bell when Quinn whispered to her, “Big finish,
bellisima,” and he drove up into her hard, jolting her with each thrust. As he pumped his semen into
her culo, he gave her a friendly boost to her pleasure center, and the next thing she knew, Christie cried
out wordlessly and let go an impressive squirt that made Kasumi's best effort take a definite second
place. She didn't quite fall unconscious, but tears streamed down her face and she shook
uncontrollably as her muscles betrayed her, unable to sustain her any longer. Pulling his flagging cock
from her sated backside, he laid her on the canvas and waved for a robe, which he covered her with
gently. He even bent over and told her softly, “Well done, princess,” kissing her gently on the temple
before dropping down from the ring and regaining his kilt before exiting for the dressing room.

          Text: “MONTEIRO SUBMITS AT 12 MINUTES WINS 100K”.
