Madara
The first hit had been hard enough to stun you.
The second had been hard enough to knock you back.
But the final hit? It was enough to knock you completely off your feet, waves of sweat falling from the force of the strike as your body thudded on the padded ground loud enough that someone outside of the gym likely heard it. Stars appeared in your vision for several seconds, a faint hum of darkness creeping in before the stinging, burning ring of high-pitched noises brought you back to a semi-conscious state. It hurt to keep awake and not give into the lull of forced rest. Then it hurt, even more, to brace your tired, burning arms against the ground and push, heaving yourself up to look at the very man who had struck you down.
"Is this all you have?" He asked, voice an octave too low for your comfort and you could only hiss, a glare burning hard on your face.
"Of course not." The worlds slipped out naturally, but you weren't certain of their truth. The man, dressed in tight shorts, padded gloves, and sweat stood over you, a wave of hesitation to approach you. Dark eyes, almost like ink, stared at you, with no mercy nor regret at the sudden hard hits he had delivered. In fact, he looked almost disappointed at the lack of reaction time you had managed against his bombarding attacks. Adjusting his weight to his other foot, he seemed to finally relax when you didn't stand up immediately, a scoff falling from his lips as the lengthy, wispy hair that was restrained behind him swayed like a brush over paper.
"Then hit me." It was a simple enough order. All you had to do was stand up and hit him, how hard could that be?
Against Madara Uchiha, it was nearly impossible.
This studio had opened up only a year ago, but it had quickly garnered a reputation for the strict, demanding teacher running it. You had heard the rumors from your old studio long ago. Many students whispered rumors and falsified tales of a man so strong that nobody in town could beat him. Some claimed that, due to the mixture of ink across his chest and arms, he had to have ties with the Yakuza. You, however, had only believed this as an excuse from people who had their asses beat by him in some poor attempt to save their reputation for losing to a stranger. At first, you hadn't really paid any attention to the rumors, ignoring them in favor of your daily training in hopes of building up the muscle and skills you had been hoping for. While it wasn't entirely a dream of yours to run your own studio one day, it was a dream of yours to be able to put people in their place when they messed with one. One too many sessions of being groped by older men on the subway had led to your final decision on the matter; you wanted to be stronger than most men in this city.
And that is when you walked into Madara's studio.
The rumors continued to plague you everywhere you went until you finally decided to approach the man yourself. Shockingly, there hadn't been a single student in the studio that day. Because of the rumors, you had expected a full class to be trained under this man. Instead, you found an empty studio that was surprisingly small with a single man in there. He wasn't doing anything that warranted those rumors. At least, he hadn't been when you first walked in. Those piercing eyes had followed you as you approached him and when he asked about your business in his building you were straightforward.
"I want to fight you."
He had laughed.
This led to what could be described as the worst beatdown you had proceeded to experience. Every blow from him showed no mercy due to your feminine physique. In fact, you had a leading theory that he was swinging even harder for this very reason. Maybe he was trying to dishearten you and chase you away from his private corner of gym equipment and personal training sessions, but you weren't so easy to chase off. He would figure this out quickly when you got up after swiping the blood from a busted lip and threw the first punch that would connect with him. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle, yet you had managed to hit him and that had done something to him. It was like a switch and he was on you, throwing one harsh strike after another until every inch of your body was bruised or bleeding and you couldn't even push yourself up. There was a brief moment you thought he was aiming to kill you. Maybe he would break one of your arms or legs just to prove some kind of point. But he didn't. The moment you could manage to lift up he was there, hands helping you stand despite the pain before he was treating every hit he had delivered, ice and pain relief medicine giving you just the edge you needed to stand on your own.
Then he told you to try again another day.
That 'another day' turned into several and here you were, edging up to a year exactly since you had been coming there every other day just to have your ass thrown around. There were days you were so sure you had improved only to be dropped once more, body bouncing off his gym floor with no mercy to be found.
And today was one of those days.
"Fuck you." You barely muttered it as you wobbled to your feet. The splitting ache in your brain caused your vision to blur for several seconds until you finally focused on the man standing before you. Seeing you standing he braced himself, muscles poised and ready for whatever could come his way. He stood like a leopard prepared to strike. You didn't immediately move, still reeling from the barrage of attacks that had knocked you off balance. Madara didn't show any sign of weakness, constantly prepared for the moment you would either strike or tap out.
And he knew which one you would pick.
The first strike was a sudden throw of your leg, the blunt of your knee catching his wrist when he angled to block it. The second strike was a quick jab of a hit aimed towards his shoulder which he brushed off with his other arm. The third strike was a fake out, another kick coming up that stopped halfway before you delivered a strike that finally caught his arm. Stumbling, he recovered and caught you while you were trying to curl back into yourself. His strikes were quick and hard with the flat of his foot catching you under your ribs with enough force to throw you to the side. He struck again, aiming for the faltered steps, but he made a mistake for the first time that evening. So focused on ending the fight, he didn't notice when you steadied yourself amidst the stumbling. As you caught your footing you threw all of your weight into a full body strike, your shoulder taking most of the force against his chest. Putting your entire weight and force into the tackle you managed to catch Madara off-guard long enough to knock him to the ground. But that would be as far as you would go. You celebrated too soon and it cost you your downfall as the man switched your positions directly after his back hit the ground. No longer than you had started to celebrate did you find yourself pinned, an arm curled under your throat as his full weight settled on your back. Airway cut off by the crook of his elbow, you knew what this meant. The fight was over and you could only tap out.
But you didn't.
You continued to struggle against him, body thrashing viciously as your nails dug into his arm briefly before clawing at the ground for purchase in an attempt to throw him off. Madara, however, was in complete control with his knees braced around your hips and the other arm keeping his own down.
"Are you willing to pass out for your pride?" He asked in a hissed voice. You knew he was right, but you didn't care. The stubborn part of you made you keep fighting like a caged animal. Cornered and with nothing to lose now you found yourself desperately thrashing. Muscles in his arms flexed and he tightened his hold more as though to emphasize the grip he had on this fight. The airway was completely blocked off, and with only a whistle of air to make out a wheezing noise, you were trapped. Trying to force in a breath in a pitiful attempt to keep this exchange going, you let something slip out that you didn't mean to. With Madara pulling your body into a painful arch and your vision blacking out, you felt a strange feeling boil over deep inside you that escaped before you could tap out and end it.
A moan.
It wasn't very loud considering the lack of freedom you had to so much as a breath, but it was loud enough that Madara's grip immediately loosened. He didn't release you, however, instead keeping a firm enough hold while allowing you to take a deep, slow breath to steady the black spots appearing in your vision. A sudden shift filled the room with the lack of movements on Madara's part. A tense, thick feeling that smothered you almost as much as his dead weight pressing into your back.
"What was that?" His voice sounded curious. No longer was it the harsh tone pushing you to your limits until you couldn't move. In its place was something much quieter. Not soft by any means, but it was something much more dangerous than any threats he had offered you. A cold sweat chilled on your neck and you felt his arm flex as though to tighten once more, but he restrained himself. At least, he did for a few seconds before he pulled you back by the crook of his arm, curling until your head bent back at an awkward angle to make direct eye contact with this large man curled over you. A strange look filtered over his face that was tucked down almost immediately beneath those same, piercing eyes. You swallowed, an action he felt before you opened your mouth to respond. Nothing came out. Not immediately. Then a small scoffing noise slipped out and you looked away from him unable to keep his gaze. However, upon looking away, you missed the way his eyes narrowed at the noise. No sooner than when it escaped did you feel him release your throat. The shocked breath you took was quickly interrupted when the man decided instead to shift on you, turning around so his ass rested just on your shoulders. The full weight of him easily kept your tired body pinned despite the slight resistance you managed to put up.
Thwack!
The first slap of his open palm on your ass caught you entirely off guard.
It was a sharp, stinging slap that drew out a shocked, choked noise that Madara almost missed had the building not been deathly silent. The pain lingered for several seconds and you were wondering if a bruise had formed from the single hit. But you weren't given long to think about it before a whistle of air was the only warning you were given before the palm smacked the other cheek with equal force.
"I think it's time you check the attitude you bring here." Thwack! The back-to-back hits, one after another, brought the sting of tears to the edges of your eyes. You blinked them away desperately in an attempt to not show weakness to this man. This man, who sat proudly atop you like a throne, who was-
Spanking you?
"T-this feels very ina-"
Thwack!
"Hush." The harsh word following the smack had been enough to shut your mouth at that moment. The stinging grew more insistent, burning a print of Madara's hand on your cheeks with each smack. Your voice failed you when you attempted to relay more excuses on why this wasn't appropriate.
Thwack!
The hit was enough to finally break out another moan from you. Unlike previously when you were being choked, this one escaped with enough force to bounce off the walls. A hum followed from Madara who adjusted himself, legs spreading slightly as though to allow himself room for-
Oh. Oh.
He was hard.
Resting heavily on your back was the evidence that the noises you were making were, in fact, affecting him. Though he didn't show it through his tone when he spoke, his erection was something neither of you could entirely ignore. But he managed to, somehow, brush it aside as though it wasn't there despite how it pulsed against your back whenever he brought his open palm down. The punishing pace he set was rhythmic. It followed some sort of pattern only he was aware of until your cheeks were burning and bruised.
And you were wet.
You didn't know when it had happened or exactly when the air had shifted to a thick, heavier atmosphere that had you both subtly shifting and making noises both of you would deny. Madara's hips, while unmoving at first, now steadily rolled. Though he wasn't actively seeking a release, he was definitely getting his own pleasure as he gave you pain in return. But that pain was something you were starting to crave. Anxious for each hit, you found your nails biting the mats below you in an attempt to ground yourself. Did Madara notice how wet you had grown? It wasn't obvious at first considering the shorts you wore were dark and the wet spot growing was something he wouldn't have noticed unless-
"Spread." His voice was heavy and commanding with the order and you were left to do nothing except obey. There was no way he couldn't have noticed now as the strings of arousal made the cloth cling in a way that revealed the swollen lips of your opening. It was almost embarrassing how excited you had gotten from the simple smacks he had given you. Yet, you couldn't ignore the other factors that added to it.
"Were you actually trying today or were you just hoping I'd choke you again, hm?" Any defense you were going to offer fell short to a moan instead as two long, curling fingers swiped along your sticky, covered core. It was a slow swipe that had your legs spreading more in hopes of getting more stimulation.
"Sh-shut-"
"Look at how wet you are." He cut you off, voice a dangerous whisper. And from behind you, you heard the sounds of sucking. Without turning around you were able to figure out exactly what he was doing; he was tasting you. That very thought had a shiver burning through and your core clenching so desperately for anything from this man. Madara, however, wasn't in a hurry to bring you what you wanted. No, he was very much entertained.
And he had to teach you a lesson.
"As much as I appreciate your affections-" He started, fingers dipping to start rubbing up and down the slit, edging on and brushing past the cloth to touch you directly. "-you should be focused on defeating me. You haven't come anywhere close in this past year and yet here you are, desperately spreading your legs for me instead of getting stronger." He 'tsked' lightly. With each word, his fingers pressed harder and faster, curling and wiggling until you were biting back noises. But it wasn't enough to fight against the pleasure the man was offering you and you fell victim to the moans you couldn't restrain. Madara didn't look back at you. He was focused on the spot between your legs and how much of the slick arousal you could produce from indirect contact.
"P-please." You didn't mean for it to slip out. But the moment it did his hand curved down, slapping with enough force to grind out a yelp of surprise.
"I don't believe you deserve to cum. Not with what little progress you've been showing me. How can I be proud when you've developed so little?" With every word his fingers swiped and curled, adding just the right amount of pressure to keep you teetering on the edge. It was driving you insane how skilled he was at not giving you what you wanted. Through your shorts, despite how tight they had been pulled in your struggles and your arousal, you wouldn't reach your end. Not with the pace and pressure he was applying. You both knew that. You also knew that begging got you nothing except another hit, so you bit your lip and tried to force down the noises threatening to come out as the heat in your stomach started to boil. Pleased with your lack of response, Madara's fingers dug harder and it was enough to tear a loud moan from your lips. He felt how your spine tried to flex up, muscles tightening before they would give out and you would slump back under him with your legs shaking. It took all the power in you to not try and close your legs when the pleasure was finally starting to crest. Finally was your end drawing near as the pressure started to burn into something you knew you couldn't hold back-
He stopped.
He fucking stopped.
"Fuck you, Mada-" The words died in your mouth the moment the pressure from your back faded. Faintly you were aware of the man standing above you like he had many times before, but this time was different. His presence was sweltering. A burning flame that you had been previously melting under. The atmosphere had shifted again and, for a moment, you hesitated to even stand. Would he leave you laying there if you didn't move soon? Would you have the chance to escape without having to face him while you were so exposed and dripping? A desperate pulse of longing coursed through you and you were reminded of how close to release you had been and how this very same man had taken it away. Briefly, a flash of annoyance and anger appeared. You didn't know whether you wanted to fight or fuck the man.
"If you can pin me you can cum." His words cut through the silence so suddenly you almost wondered if your lust-filled mind had imagined them up. Then he walked to the corner of the mats he had laid out and faced you like he always did; poised with the intention to strike you down. It took an embarrassing amount of time before you realized he was waiting on you to stand up. Scrambling desperately you rose and adjusted the shorts that had suddenly gotten too short and too wet. Quickly you took your own position and you two circled, playing through the dance you had both played through several times before, but something abou tthis was different.
More intense.
And it didn't help with hos sensitive you were. While you were able to still dodge some of his hits, many were connecting due to the fact you were still exhausted and whenever your thighs rubbed together a spark of pleasure weakened your next step. And Madara, despite the erection you could still catch glimpses of, seemed mostly unaffected by the state of his body as he threw blow after blow. This familiar dance continued in the same way it always had; him overpowering you with his dominating strikes while you desperately clung for whatever chance you could retaliate. But it wasn't going to last long and you both knew it. Not while you were teetering and wobbling with that same pleasure from before back on the edge. The adrenaline and the accidental stimulation had left you ready to snap and it was obvious in the excess sweat, flustered cheeks, and noises that you sometimes couldn't keep back. And with every noise Madara's gaze faltered and he fell to your face for a second too long.
And there you found his weakness.
And you proceeded to exploit it in hopes of getting what you wanted.
Every time he threw a punch or brought his leg up for a decissive kick did you make sure to make the noises you made carry. Each time the moans and whimpers met his ears did you notice the faint falter of his steps, as though the same wave of pleasure that took away your common sense was flowing through him with each noise. It also didn't take him long to catch on, it seems, as the final time you moaned it came out slightly strangled and Madara's eyes narrowed just slightly. But by that point it was too late; you struck. You didn't hit him like he had been expecting when your steps faltered too far to the left. No, instead, you put all the force you could into propelling yourself forward and into the man who, for the first time, you had managed to catch off-guard. His eyes widenned just as your weight slammed into his chest and you felt more than heard the rush of air as he was forced onto his back with a resounding thud. Not waisting the chance you had, you immediately curled your legs around his abdomen and sat with both hands on his shoulders to both steady yourself and hold the image of pinning him. You both knew that, in your state, he could have thrown you the moment his shock had worn off, but he didn't. He didn't throw you even as the seconds turned into minutes as you managed to steady the sudden wave of dizzyness that had caught you from your rushed actions. Then, finally, when you stopped seeing double, did you sit up completely and slide your hands down to his chest when they could feel the steady, hard beat of his heart.
He was looking up at you with a mixture of pride and amusement. With hands curling up to your hips you found yourself gasping in what could only be described as shock and arousal when he slid you further down so his length brushed against the area he had grown so intimately familiar with in teh last few minutes.
"If I had known to motivate you I just had to fuck you I would have done that much sooner."