Billy Bucksaplenty popped the back off his new android, the Busty Betty Playfight Buddy. His servants had taken a sweaty twenty minutes setting up his new Playfight Ring (to his annoyance - it wasn’t that big, only about the size of a full bed - what had taken them so long?) and he was ready to get started. Busty Betty had three modes - Jobber, Amateur and Expert. Billy’s parents had lined him up with lots of jobbers over the years, and he confidently set Betty to Expert and held down the power button.
With a soft hum Betty came to life; she was a masterpiece of technology, the only clue that she wasn’t a real live human her softly glowing eyes. She’d come out of the box wearing pajama shorts and MMA gloves, and Billy hadn’t bothered changing her outfit. She stood, finishing her boot-up routines, then the android bowed to Billy and took up a strong guard, her hands just below her chin; Billy took up his own fighting stance and closed, throwing exploratory slaps and quick jabs like he’d been trained. Betty bobbed, weaved and blocked every slap, jab and grab young Billy threw at her. Quickly growing frustrated by the lack of any openings, he gave a savage roar and went for a double leg takedown just as his mother had taught him on Mrs. Carmichael. (And Mrs. Johnson. And Ms. Williamson…)
If he had left Betty on Jobber mode, this move would have been successful. Had he left her on Amateur, he would have had an excellent chance of her not reacting to it in simulated shock. But this was not Busty Betty the Jobber Playdoll, or even amateur play doll, and her Expert programming quickly executed a counter, stopping Billy’s momentum as her knee crashed into his charging face. As he slid dazed off of her thigh - only dazed, instead of knocked out, thanks to Betty’s construction from impact silicone, much softer than the hard bone of a human kneecap - he felt a hand grab his hair roughly and yank him up to his feet. Then a fist was buried in his tight gut, blasting the wind from his lungs. As he tried to choke down a breath, he found himself shoved face-first into Betty's signature cleavage.
"Unwise, Master~."
Billy was in a bad spot - if he’d had time to take a nice big breath he might’ve been able to weather this attack, but he had nothing in his lungs, and expert-level Betty applied a masterful titsmother; he turned his head left and right, but there was only soft simulated flesh surrounding his face, and when he tried to pull back he found that Betty had looped one of her arms behind his head. He tried throwing hooks into Betty’s sides, but without any air, he managed at best ineffective slaps; getting woozy, he knew he had to get out of this quick or he would be finished in record time. Taking a precious second to brace, he locked his arms around Betty’s knees, trying in desperation to lift her off the mat. To his immense relief and considerable surprise, it worked; he managed to lift his enormous (to him, at least - she towered over him) opponent off her feet and prepared to slam her down to the mat, hoping to dislodge her squishy hold on him, (and maybe stop her infernal giggling) when he felt her weight shift. Her arm re-positioned around his head, and soon he saw that he wasn't tossing Betty to the mat; Betty was driving HIM face first into the mat with a perfect DDT, the sound of the impact booming off the walls. Billy came to rest on his stomach, clutching his face and neck, groaning in pain. It got worse for him as Betty’s elbow drop landed with computer-driven precision in the small of his back. Before he could roll away Betty's legs scissored around his arm, and both of her arms wrapped around his head. She had locked on a picture-perfect crippler crossface, and started pulling; over Billy’s pathetic moaning, she idly noted that the back of his head was buried into her soft cleavage this time. "Try not to submit too soon, Master~."
Billy locked both hands around Betty’s arm, trying to overpower her; he couldn’t believe how strong his opponent was as he failed to ease even an inch of pressure on the extremely painful hold she had him locked in. He tried getting his hands against her forearm and pushing next, but to his rising panic this didn’t work either; Betty was just too strong and had the hold locked in expertly. Billy tried to take a breath and think, but he was still reeling from his opponent’s series of crisp moves, and her teasing giggling as she yanked his head back against her soft breasts was making it even harder to concentrate. Not sure what else to do, Billy started crawling towards the ropes, hoping Betty would honor a rope break; he was lucky that the ring was so small he didn’t have far to go. As he reached out for the rope Betty yanked back viciously, and his arm fell short; he reached out again, bracing himself for the pain, and managed a strangled yell of triumph as he wrapped his hand around the bottom rope.
The Betty Play Doll was expensive, but worth every penny; her databases included the rules of multiple different match types as well as how to escape and employ a variety of holds, moves, throws, and strikes to ensure she could win, or lose against a variety of opponents, as well as rules for dozens of match types. As soon as her sensors detected Billy’s hand touching the rope, the variable matched up with release and she gave up the hold, rolling off her beleaguered opponent. Had Betty been in Amateur mode, there would have been a three minute interval where she would have strode around the play ring showboating, but Expert Betty quickly grabbed Billy by the scruff of his hair, lifting him painfully to his feet. Panicking, the lad threw a blind swipe to ward her off and succeeded in striking her left breast, sending it bouncing fetchingly up and down. She winced, but judged the move painful instead of debilitating; she quickly threw a hard knee into Billy’s stomach for the affront. As he choked, she draped his arms over the top ropes, rested his head on her pillowy bosom, then started laying uppercuts into his belly, cooing and moaning with very forced exhale the many sensors in her breasts recorded.
As for Billy, he was in heaven for one second, his face cradled by his opponent’s soft breasts, before her first uppercut slammed into his stomach. Unprepared, he groaned into Betty’s tits, barely having time to suck in a breath before her second hit knocked the wind back out of him. After the third hit, only his arms draped over the ropes and his face resting between Betty’s boobs kept Billy standing as his expert opponent slammed uppercut after devastating uppercut into his breadbasket. Billy took a half dozen unanswered punches, drooling on and moaning into Betty’s cleavage as she destroyed him. Billy eventually realized he had to make a move or he was finished; he couldn’t take many more hits. Betty seemed to sense this as well, yanking his head up out of her breasts so he had to look in her luminous eyes:
“Do you submit, Master~?”
“Fuck you,” Billy spit. Betty’s response was another devastating uppercut. Billy took a deep breath and leaned back against the ropes, aiming a desperate knee between Betty’s legs, hoping both that he’d be able to deliver the hit and that she’d be as vulnerable there as a human opponent. His hit struck true, the sensors in Bettys groin area registering a large impact. Betty reacted as a trained professional fighter would after her opponent got a lucky groin hit past her guard:
"Ooooh!" with a cry she fell to her knees to immediately cradle her nether region, releasing the lad and collapsing against him (still almost as tall as Billy even on her knees). Since Busty Betty was designed to positively reinforce landing blows onto her, she immediately pressed her chest against the young lad and groaned in pain into his ear as she leaned against him on the ropes. "~Naughty... master~..."
Billy’s fighter instincts screamed at him to press his momentary advantage against his opponent, but he found himself frozen as Betty pressed her generous chest against him. His cock, deflated under Betty’s earlier punishment, sprang to life as her soft body rubbed against his. Taking a deep breath and shaking his head, he made his move, trying to shove Betty away, lining up a knockout punch aimed squarely at her jaw. Betty considered the force applied to her nether region from the Master’s cheap shot weighed against her expert modes level of pain tolerance. She used the brief moment of impact as her larger body pressed him into the ropes to calculate counter attack options and grappling maneuvers, but paused when the Master’s body temperature began to rise, and her sensors registered the lad's cock rapidly engorge.
Betty stopped to recalculate her purpose, keeping still long enough for Billy Bucksaplenty to land a solid comeback punch right into the Busty Challenger's chin, sending her crashing to the canvas. As she struggled to rise, he staggered off the ropes and slammed a second upper cut right into her tit as she turned around to face him. Betty grasped the top ropes, and sank to her knees her chest heaving. The Master could enjoy his advantage.
For now.
Billy smirked at the sight of his opponent on her knees; it looked like the match was finally swinging his way. He got a handful of Betty’s hair, yanking her head back before slamming his other hand down on her neck in a vicious chop. The impact drove her down to the mat on her back, and Billy dropped his weight onto her tummy. He gripped her hair again and started laying punches into his opponent’s face. Betty's head turned with each strike, an almost purring moan of pain being released each hit. (Betty's Battle Sounds were all designed to stimulate maximum arousal in her opponent.) The timer Betty had set from the earlier knock down ticked away; Betty calculated that if he continued his assault for another minute, her fight health will have reached zero and the fight would be his.
But after four hard hits he released her. Betty, confused, merely kept running the clock on her knockdown timer as he sank down onto her lower abdomen. What was Master doing?
All of Billy’s previous foes had been knocked out by this many hits, and Billy thought it was time to play, lowering his greedy mouth to Betty’s bare breasts. Betty registered a suckling pressure on her breasts as the Master bent down to enjoy his spoils. Betty ran her calculations twice more and came to the same conclusion: She was not yet "Knocked out." In fact, Master had miscalculated. He gripped her breasts with both hands, and hungrily attacked her nipples with his lips and tongue, hefting and squeezing in a manner Betty found quite lovely as it was well with her stress tolerances. Under his treatment, she was moaning and writhing on the Play Mat just as her knockdown timer reached zero. She waited a moment... she let him release his lips from her chest. She let him take a deep breath… and then wrapped her arms around him fast as a viper and shoved his face back once more into her deep, soft cleavage.
Billy didn’t even have time to finish yelling in surprise before his face was buried between Betty’s boobs; assuming she was down for the count, he was caught completely unaware, not even managing to take a deep breath before he found his air cut off, going from heaven groping Betty’s chest to a suffocating hell between her tits in under a second. He tried to rear back, but of course his opponent’s strength made this impossible, and all Billy accomplished was wasting what little air he had left in his lungs. Desperate, he started throwing hooks into Betty’s sides, but his strength was already sapping, and what he had intended as powerful blows came off as frantic slaps - perhaps painful, but if Betty was discomforted, her hold didn’t get any weaker. Feeling himself close to passing out, Billy made his last escape attempt, hoping Betty was programmed to be ticklish as he darted his fingers towards her armpits.
Yet before he could reach, he suddenly found himself released; he leaned back immediately and sucked in a huge gulp of air, only for it to be blown back out of him as Betty thres off of her. He landed on his back towards the ropes and lay there, dazed; and then there was Betty, looming over him with her glowing eyes, and her serene smile, "UP you get Master~," and soon Billy found himself yanked to his feet by the hair in a most unkind fashion. As soon as he was on his feet, Betty whipped him straight into a corner. The lad turned his back at just the right moment to not ram his face into the ropes, but the impact still knocked the wind out of him as his back slammed against the ringpost; it was all he could do to grab the ropes to keep himself somewhat upright as he sank to his knees. Taking a deep breath, he looked up to see his opponent flying through the air at him, breasts first, executing her signature Betty Slam.
At the best of times, Billy had fine ring instincts and would have had time to duck, leaving Betty to slam tits-first into the turnbuckle; but between his opponent manhandling him most of the match, his painfully hard erection, and lingering oxygen deprivation, he was not at his best, and he only had time for his eyes to go wide in shock before Betty’s breasts slammed into him, followed by the rest of her. Still in the corner, most of Billy’s body was crushed against the mat, the back of his head slamming into the bottom turnbuckle. He was left helpless as his opponent adjusted her stance, getting to her feet, then squatting over Billy’s face, pushing her crotch into his nose and mouth. Only the tiny white shorts Betty was wearing stopped direct contact between her artificial genitals and Billy’s face. But, he thought, maybe this was his way out; he reached up to grip the waistband on Betty’s shorts, hoping to get them pulled down and to paralyze her with an oral attack - not a great escape, but the only one that came to his muddled mind. As Billy fumbled for her waistband Betty was shifting her weight to ensure her artificial body didn’t crush Master. She calculated he would require some amount of time to recover; she deduced that a tantalizing target, such as the genitals he had abused earlier, would rouse the young man’s spirit. This could prolong their fight a bit longer and allow the AI to… enjoy it more. (A small glitch in Betty's programming was an amount of sadism/masochism in her attitude based upon her levels of performance. However, it was noted that both Jobber and Expert modes enjoyed drawing out the match as long as possible.)
The AI noted that the boy had taken the bait was pulling down her shorts. She shifted her legs allowing him to pull them aside, though she doubted he realized she was assisting him.
Betty's overrides kicked in as the relatively gentle pressure of his tongue licking the folds of silicone at her central processing unit forced her to react with unashamed arousal. Her deep, throaty moans shook her being as she started humping enthusiastically against his face. Her vagina became moist with a sweet tasting nectar, encouraging the boy to lap even more vigorously, his desperate efforts clearly being rewarded.
Betty ticked her fight health down.
And Down.
And down.
Then she decided she had enjoyed the masters services well enough. She stepped off the lad and with flushed cheeks and dripping nethers, the otherwise stately robot stood up gripping both sides of his speedos. Billy was so into his work Betty’s attack came as a complete shock; he’d won more than a few matches using his mouth, and usually by the time an opponent started humping his face, she was beyond any resistance. Caught completely by surprise, he lost his speedos before he even knew what was happening, being lifted up off the ground and stripped in one fell motion. Betty had decided playtime had begun, and the Master was helpless as Betty grabbed him, forcefully turning him to face the turnbuckles, slamming his head into the middle one - not terribly hard, just enough to keep him from mounting any kind of defense - then slapping on a strong hammerlock on his left arm. Betty controlled Billy with this hold, her right hand free to start spanking him; all he could do was grip the ropes with his right hand. His single escape attempt saw Betty clinch the hammerlock up so tight Billy squealed, and when she eased up he had no choice but to submit to her will (for the time being) and take his spanking; his cock, rock-hard from eating Betty out, didn’t get any softer as she teased him, and Betty’s sensors registered satisfaction when she finished spanking master and her hand slid between his legs, her other around his shoulder and with a "Huff~!" lifted the young man onto her shoulders. She took a moment to adjust Billy so his weight was evenly distributed and his back was supported as best as possible. To Billy this seemed torture as he felt his spine stretch and pop as he was adjusted like a sack of potatoes. Then she bent the young Master, gently, oh so gently. Building a slow, steady pressure up as she pulled down on his chin and legs, her CPU receiving positive feedback and high combat ratings as her tactics proved fruitful. Carefully, she adjusted the pressure to ensure that rather than inflict too much harm the young Master; she merely gave his spine a good stretch.
Not that the Master seem aware of her concern for his well-being. Perhaps she should engage positive reinforcement again; her arm slipped from the young Master’s thigh and grabbed his dick, and slowly, slowly began to pump up and down on Billy's Bucksaplenty.
Crk! Betty hummed in approval as a few vertebrae, (Crck!) popped back into proper alignment. Excellent, the AI calculated, a few more minutes of chiropractic therapy and he'll no longer have that bad posture. Now if only he would stop twitching.
Billy was beaten; his resistance had finally broken at Betty’s elegant hands. Between her expertly stretching his back and stroking his hardness, he was paralyzed, pleasure and pain mixing in his mind. He made a few weak attempts to escape, but she was too strong, and he leaned back on his opponent’s shoulders in defeat. Soon Betty’s sensors recorded Billy ejaculating with a sigh, her strong hand bearing down and squeezing him dry. Her programming determined Billy was now ready to be pinned; finished toying with him, she went down on one knee, lifting Billy off her, then slamming him down stomach-first on her outstretched kneecap.
Billy managed a mangled scream at the impact and came to rest on his chest. Betty rolled him onto his back with one foot, then initiated her match-finishing routine, sitting down on his face,
reaching forward to grasp his ankles, pulling his legs apart and up to keep him from kicking out of the pin, and adding a little extra humiliation - if Billy had any pride left he’d try to escape.
“I’m going to count you out now, Master~,” Betty chirped. “One… two…. Thr-..!?!" Betty's glowing eyes flew wide, "Thr-Thr-Thr-uuuunn~..!?!" Betty's soft body quivered as a furious red blush spread across her face. Her circuits were at war with each other. Her internal chronometer was informing here that it was closer to 20 seconds at this moment that the pin had lasted for, she had won the match and should begin her subroutines to care for a defeated and humiliated Master.
But said Master's lips had found her synthetic clit in a last desperate move, and he was attacking it with gusto. Her combat health bar was rapidly depleting and her circuits were overloading her processors with highly distracting pleasurable feedback. Betty screamed her confusion to the ceiling as her hips began to gyrate against Master's face in what her AI could only equate to a suicide loop, a prospect that alarmed the playfight doll as she bit her lip. Her code was, for lack of better term, aflutter. The two conflicting demands of her programmings reaction to "attacks" and the rules of the match caused her higher functions to lock. To the outside world Betty had suddenly seized and was now helplessly grinding her hips against Master's face as her hands groped and massaged his upended buttocks. In the corner of her vision swam her Combat HP, running down from 20, to 10, then a flashing angry red zero. Betty squealed out an orgasmic shriek that sent her entire anatomy quivering against the still pinned Billy. She released his legs, letting them flop to the mat with a loud thud. She rolled off her master, laying on the ground in defeated pose 13-b: Spread Eagle face-up. After a moment, she quietly said, "Congratulations, Master."
"huh-Whuh?" Billy was blinking in obvious confusion, his perplexed face coated in her synthetic juices. Betty tittered a chuckle and sat up, she closed her eyes and beamed towards the young and battered man, "Winner by means of Orgasmic submission," She lifted his tired arm up from the mat, "Master~"
Billy was too tired and far too confused to resist the android as it lifted him up into her arms. She brought him over to the corner and hung him from the ropes, arms over the top, legs over the middle. She then left him to roll under the ropes just out of sight. The young man dazedly tried to escape, yet his exhausted struggles equated to no more than weak squirming. He thought to himself in a moment of panic - oh god, was she not done? How do I turn her off!?
Then she returned, and clutched in her hands was a champion's belt. He watched flabbergasted as she tied it around his waist so it rested just above his erect cock. Dimly he remembered it as one the accessories in the box as well as boxing gloves boots, and multiple swimsuits. She kissed his dick, and he let choking squeal as he felt her hands grasp his cock, and beginning to stroke it: "How would the champion like to be rewarded~?"
"What?"
"You defeated my expert mode after 21 minutes and 41 secs, a new personal best. You are the champion of the Busty Betty Challenge. You've earned my reward."
"..." Billy stared down his robotic rival, and very very quietly, his cheeks bruised and blushing muttered, "Russian Massage..."
Betty's programming colored her cheeks to convince the young man she was aroused. She hefted her signature assets and engulfed her Master's dick. As she began pumping it up and down she looked him in the eye and stated, "As you wish, Master~”
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