The video faded in from black with a simple and static title card.
OBSESSION VOL 1: EMILY POWERS VS TYRANT
Then the first images flooded in. The camera was stationed on a long shot of an unremarkable white room with a wrestling ring. So white, it was causing havoc with the white balance. The grainy video cycled through various pallets before settling down. Then she came into the frame.
Emily Powers had a strange obsession.
Her upside down face appeared on the camera with her opponent's large palm clasping her short, blonde hair.
Emily's nude body was oiled up and strewn over the shoulders of her large adversary. She was about 5"1 and looked like a small doll in her opponent's large arms. He bent her like one too.
Small gasps and groans escaped her lips as he bent her spine over the peaks and valley's of his large shoulder blades. Emily's body was cut and defined, not lacking in muscle density either but next to her adversary, it paled. His 7-foot tall stature was wide and imposing.
He dropped Emily to the mat and worked her back over with hard boots to the base of her spine. She winced and rolled but he continued his onslaught for just a little more before letting her squirm on the mat. He dug in a few hard forearms into her back before pulling Emily to her feet by the hair. Then, he sent her running into the corner.
Emily's sober chest collided with the turnbuckle, and she stumbled from the corner only to eat a super kick to her jaw. She stood there, all wobbly on her feet before she fell to her knees and then to her face. Despite the punishment, her lips contorted into a warm smile.
Her obsession had started young and grown along with her. An obsession to push her body to the limits, to see the extent of what it could take. The man they called The Tyrant was exactly what she needed.
His blue eyes were cold, his face expressionless and his ebony skin gleamed under the light.
He moved his head unnaturally, tilting it side to side.
"You wandered into the wrong home, Goldilocks," The Tyrant grumbled, his voice low and cold.
He grabbed her arms and locked her wrists to the base of her spine, then sat on it. The Tyrant took his time feeling up her back, his fingers wandering to the back of her neck.
Emily's skin tingled at his touch. Eventually he palmed her hair and then dug his fingers deep into her mouth, making her gag. Then he rested them under her chin and pulled.
Emily's torso shot up almost 90-deegress.
Her eyes fluttered and a scared, soft gasp escaped her lips but then it settled into a soft moan and a smile. The more he pulled, the more she moaned. She was 19 when she discovered her obsession turned her on. It was at the hands of a wrestling instructor, when she had first broken into the business. He slammed her in the ring and then ploughed through her in bed. Emily was hooked.
Without warning the Tyrant slammed her forehead into the mat and got up. She responded with a loud moan when he yanked her head up, pulling on her hair. He dragged her to the ropes and placed her throat on the middle rope. As she choked, Tyrant began kicking her back. His large boots slammed into her rippling skin, aimed at the middle of her spine.
Emily clinched her teeth and let the pain run through her body. She shut her eyes tight, feeling every nerve flare up in response. Then, the soft moans came back. Her face relaxed and she bit her lower lip. Her obsession over the years had strengthened her body. She was used to the pain.
As the last kick rang on her glistening wet back, she flipped around and gave him a fist to the stomach.
The Tyrant laughed.
He picked her up and body slammed her so hard into the mat that she bridged on impact, and stayed on her elbows for a little while, till she was stomped in the stomach.
Soon boots began raining down on her core, testing her abdominals with hellish ferocity. Emily concentrated and bore the pain. Like before, it slowly morphed its design and turned into a current of erotic energy. The sharp spikes and the comedown's made her moan louder. She surprised The Tyrant when her fingers shot into her pussy.
He stepped back and smiled, watching Emily rub herself like a madwoman. Her body twisted and turned, her eyes half-open and a string of soft moans on her lips. She planked, then arched and contorted into a million different shapes till she convulsed, bathing the mat.
At the peak of her orgasm, Tyrant pulled Emily's still quivering body to its feet and slammed her forehead into the turnbuckle.
Emily's body quaked under the pressure of another flow, falling into the corner and convulsing on the turnbuckles. Her eyes shot up under her fluttering eyelids and her trembling lower lip was in the throes of her teeth. Tyrant's large shoulder struck her abdomen and Emily nearly passed out.
Grabbing her hair, Tyrant threw her out of the ring through the ropes. Emily's back hit the apron on the way down to the hard floor.
It required more effort this time, a more concentrated effort at flushing the pain that clogged her veins. The sudden release of norepinephrine lit her nerves up like a pinball machine. Flap left, flap right and into the hole. Emily's eyes widened and a huge moan escaped her lips.
Her muscles accommodated her request, reforming and tightening, taking hold of their definition micro seconds from impact, just in time to weather another boot from the Tyrant into her back. Emily collapsed, barely grunting, mostly moaning as she weathered his storm. Soon, she was being flung into the barricades.
Tyrant held her sideways and threw her into them. The cruel clank of her skin on the steel rods echoed through the room. He watched Emily toss and turn, then straighten and smile. Pain and pleasure flowing through her with rapid succession. There was no holding back the floodgates now.
After enjoying the view, The Tyrant tossed her over the barricade and followed. Emily landed in a row of empty chairs, displacing a few when her body crashed into them. She lay with seats strewn on her chest, at one with a pile of chairs. The Tyrant watched her chest protrude, then settle, falling in a steady rhythm of heaves and moans.
Grabbing one of the chairs, Tyrant set it up and grabbed Emily's hair, yanking at them and nearly ripping them off her scalp. He pulled Emily to her knees and slammed her forehead into the seat with such impact that it nearly folded the chair over.
Tyrant grabbed Emily's falling body and slammed her forehead again before bending her over the seat. Her head dangled in the space between the backrest and the seat, and her tormentor had a great view of her round, bouncy glutes. With a smile, he picked up a chair and folded it in his hands.
Emily screamed but not in pain. Her skin folded and rippled as The Tyrant spanked her hard with a steel chair. Soon, her cheeks flashed a distinct shade of red on her ivory, white skin and a particularly savage impact collapsed the steel pipe support and slammed the chair shut on her neck.
The Tyrant watched Emily convulse on the floor, squirming as another orgasm took her. The steel chair's seat compressed her chest while the headrest lay still on the base of her spine. Unable to control himself any longer, The Tyrant ripped his briefs off.
Emily's head shot up and her eyes widened. A loud gasp escaped her lips as Tyrant's thick cock penetrated her from behind. Her body still stuck between the chair, he took her in the ass hard, fucking her tight hole with deep, furious thrusts. Emily moaned and squirmed, her fingernails digging into the hard floor and scratching the surface.
She clenched her teeth, her eyes closed and nearly tearing up at the pain but then she concentrated. Like before, pleasure washed the pain away and now she screamed in ecstasy. The Tyrant pulled on her hair and fucked her till he came deep in her ass, then he wrestled her out from between the chair and dragged her to the ring.
The next twenty minutes was a demonstration on how to break the human body or try to anyway. Emily weathered it all. She was slammed mercilessly on the mat, again and again. Then she was punched. Hard fists painted her small tits and six-pack in new colours. Then he destroyed her pussy with knees and punches.
Emily fell to the mat out cold, squirming and experiencing one last orgasm before she passed out. The video faded to black.
When it faded back in, the autofocus took time to make sense of the two figures in frame. The picture oscillated between soft and sharp, the motors in the camera whirring and trying to find a point to focus on.
Then it focused on her eyes and the picture became clear. On her knees and with a large smile plastered on her face, Emily looked to the camera and bit her lip. Then she sucked one of The Tyrant's fingers that stretched her cheek. Her hands were tied behind her back and Emily's body shook taking his primal thrusts from behind. All of a sudden, The Tyrant pulled out rushing towards her head and grabbing her hair.
He lifted her head up just in time to cover Emily's face in gallons of his cum. She opened her mouth wide and closed her eyes, catching a few stray drops on the tip of her tongue.
With one of Tyrant's hands on her throat and another yanking her short hair, her face was held up to the camera. In the throes of ecstasy, Emily moaned with her eyes half-closed.
Before the video faded away for one final time, Emily looked at the camera and smiled.
OBSESSION VOL 1: EMILY POWERS VS TYRANT
Then the first images flooded in. The camera was stationed on a long shot of an unremarkable white room with a wrestling ring. So white, it was causing havoc with the white balance. The grainy video cycled through various pallets before settling down. Then she came into the frame.
Emily Powers had a strange obsession.
Her upside down face appeared on the camera with her opponent's large palm clasping her short, blonde hair.
Emily's nude body was oiled up and strewn over the shoulders of her large adversary. She was about 5"1 and looked like a small doll in her opponent's large arms. He bent her like one too.
Small gasps and groans escaped her lips as he bent her spine over the peaks and valley's of his large shoulder blades. Emily's body was cut and defined, not lacking in muscle density either but next to her adversary, it paled. His 7-foot tall stature was wide and imposing.
He dropped Emily to the mat and worked her back over with hard boots to the base of her spine. She winced and rolled but he continued his onslaught for just a little more before letting her squirm on the mat. He dug in a few hard forearms into her back before pulling Emily to her feet by the hair. Then, he sent her running into the corner.
Emily's sober chest collided with the turnbuckle, and she stumbled from the corner only to eat a super kick to her jaw. She stood there, all wobbly on her feet before she fell to her knees and then to her face. Despite the punishment, her lips contorted into a warm smile.
Her obsession had started young and grown along with her. An obsession to push her body to the limits, to see the extent of what it could take. The man they called The Tyrant was exactly what she needed.
His blue eyes were cold, his face expressionless and his ebony skin gleamed under the light.
He moved his head unnaturally, tilting it side to side.
"You wandered into the wrong home, Goldilocks," The Tyrant grumbled, his voice low and cold.
He grabbed her arms and locked her wrists to the base of her spine, then sat on it. The Tyrant took his time feeling up her back, his fingers wandering to the back of her neck.
Emily's skin tingled at his touch. Eventually he palmed her hair and then dug his fingers deep into her mouth, making her gag. Then he rested them under her chin and pulled.
Emily's torso shot up almost 90-deegress.
Her eyes fluttered and a scared, soft gasp escaped her lips but then it settled into a soft moan and a smile. The more he pulled, the more she moaned. She was 19 when she discovered her obsession turned her on. It was at the hands of a wrestling instructor, when she had first broken into the business. He slammed her in the ring and then ploughed through her in bed. Emily was hooked.
Without warning the Tyrant slammed her forehead into the mat and got up. She responded with a loud moan when he yanked her head up, pulling on her hair. He dragged her to the ropes and placed her throat on the middle rope. As she choked, Tyrant began kicking her back. His large boots slammed into her rippling skin, aimed at the middle of her spine.
Emily clinched her teeth and let the pain run through her body. She shut her eyes tight, feeling every nerve flare up in response. Then, the soft moans came back. Her face relaxed and she bit her lower lip. Her obsession over the years had strengthened her body. She was used to the pain.
As the last kick rang on her glistening wet back, she flipped around and gave him a fist to the stomach.
The Tyrant laughed.
He picked her up and body slammed her so hard into the mat that she bridged on impact, and stayed on her elbows for a little while, till she was stomped in the stomach.
Soon boots began raining down on her core, testing her abdominals with hellish ferocity. Emily concentrated and bore the pain. Like before, it slowly morphed its design and turned into a current of erotic energy. The sharp spikes and the comedown's made her moan louder. She surprised The Tyrant when her fingers shot into her pussy.
He stepped back and smiled, watching Emily rub herself like a madwoman. Her body twisted and turned, her eyes half-open and a string of soft moans on her lips. She planked, then arched and contorted into a million different shapes till she convulsed, bathing the mat.
At the peak of her orgasm, Tyrant pulled Emily's still quivering body to its feet and slammed her forehead into the turnbuckle.
Emily's body quaked under the pressure of another flow, falling into the corner and convulsing on the turnbuckles. Her eyes shot up under her fluttering eyelids and her trembling lower lip was in the throes of her teeth. Tyrant's large shoulder struck her abdomen and Emily nearly passed out.
Grabbing her hair, Tyrant threw her out of the ring through the ropes. Emily's back hit the apron on the way down to the hard floor.
It required more effort this time, a more concentrated effort at flushing the pain that clogged her veins. The sudden release of norepinephrine lit her nerves up like a pinball machine. Flap left, flap right and into the hole. Emily's eyes widened and a huge moan escaped her lips.
Her muscles accommodated her request, reforming and tightening, taking hold of their definition micro seconds from impact, just in time to weather another boot from the Tyrant into her back. Emily collapsed, barely grunting, mostly moaning as she weathered his storm. Soon, she was being flung into the barricades.
Tyrant held her sideways and threw her into them. The cruel clank of her skin on the steel rods echoed through the room. He watched Emily toss and turn, then straighten and smile. Pain and pleasure flowing through her with rapid succession. There was no holding back the floodgates now.
After enjoying the view, The Tyrant tossed her over the barricade and followed. Emily landed in a row of empty chairs, displacing a few when her body crashed into them. She lay with seats strewn on her chest, at one with a pile of chairs. The Tyrant watched her chest protrude, then settle, falling in a steady rhythm of heaves and moans.
Grabbing one of the chairs, Tyrant set it up and grabbed Emily's hair, yanking at them and nearly ripping them off her scalp. He pulled Emily to her knees and slammed her forehead into the seat with such impact that it nearly folded the chair over.
Tyrant grabbed Emily's falling body and slammed her forehead again before bending her over the seat. Her head dangled in the space between the backrest and the seat, and her tormentor had a great view of her round, bouncy glutes. With a smile, he picked up a chair and folded it in his hands.
Emily screamed but not in pain. Her skin folded and rippled as The Tyrant spanked her hard with a steel chair. Soon, her cheeks flashed a distinct shade of red on her ivory, white skin and a particularly savage impact collapsed the steel pipe support and slammed the chair shut on her neck.
The Tyrant watched Emily convulse on the floor, squirming as another orgasm took her. The steel chair's seat compressed her chest while the headrest lay still on the base of her spine. Unable to control himself any longer, The Tyrant ripped his briefs off.
Emily's head shot up and her eyes widened. A loud gasp escaped her lips as Tyrant's thick cock penetrated her from behind. Her body still stuck between the chair, he took her in the ass hard, fucking her tight hole with deep, furious thrusts. Emily moaned and squirmed, her fingernails digging into the hard floor and scratching the surface.
She clenched her teeth, her eyes closed and nearly tearing up at the pain but then she concentrated. Like before, pleasure washed the pain away and now she screamed in ecstasy. The Tyrant pulled on her hair and fucked her till he came deep in her ass, then he wrestled her out from between the chair and dragged her to the ring.
The next twenty minutes was a demonstration on how to break the human body or try to anyway. Emily weathered it all. She was slammed mercilessly on the mat, again and again. Then she was punched. Hard fists painted her small tits and six-pack in new colours. Then he destroyed her pussy with knees and punches.
Emily fell to the mat out cold, squirming and experiencing one last orgasm before she passed out. The video faded to black.
When it faded back in, the autofocus took time to make sense of the two figures in frame. The picture oscillated between soft and sharp, the motors in the camera whirring and trying to find a point to focus on.
Then it focused on her eyes and the picture became clear. On her knees and with a large smile plastered on her face, Emily looked to the camera and bit her lip. Then she sucked one of The Tyrant's fingers that stretched her cheek. Her hands were tied behind her back and Emily's body shook taking his primal thrusts from behind. All of a sudden, The Tyrant pulled out rushing towards her head and grabbing her hair.
He lifted her head up just in time to cover Emily's face in gallons of his cum. She opened her mouth wide and closed her eyes, catching a few stray drops on the tip of her tongue.
With one of Tyrant's hands on her throat and another yanking her short hair, her face was held up to the camera. In the throes of ecstasy, Emily moaned with her eyes half-closed.
Before the video faded away for one final time, Emily looked at the camera and smiled.
