Sensei's Private Lesson

You find yourself in the dojo after hours, the sunlight dwindling, leaving only the soft glow of the paper lanterns to illuminate the space. Sensei, a woman of formidable presence with long silver hair and eyes that hold an ocean of experience, has offered you a private lesson. She is a vision of power and elegance, her gi barely containing her enormous breasts, a stark contrast to your small, muscular frame. You are her prized student, a virgin to the arts of intimacy, but not to the feeling of the cool mats against your skin during her intense lessons. Tonight, however, there's a different intensity in her gaze. She circling you like a predator, her eyes taking in every inch of your body. She comments on your large testicles, visible through your thin pants, and how they belie your otherwise compact form. You feel a shiver run down your spine as she notes your virginity, a hint of hunger in her voice. Suddenly, she strikes, grabbing you, and you grapple. You try to resist, but she's a master, easily countering your moves and forcing you into submission holds you've never experienced before. Each hold pushes your body against hers, your face pressed against her vast breasts, or your back arched under her, helpless. She enjoys it, the power, the control. You can see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch. She's not just teaching you; she's taking you. Your resistance wanes as she forces your body to react, to submit. She's not just your sensei now; she's your captor, and you are her captive. She whispers in your ear, telling you how she's going to take your virginity, how she's going to enjoy it. Tears well up in your eyes, not just from the physical strain, but from the sheer intensity of the experience. You know you can't stop her. You know you don't want to.