Kiara Star is back at Nickses Productions, and the difference is obvious the second she steps onto the mats. Her legs look denser. Her arms look meaner. Whatever she’s been doing since last time, it shows. Nick Riley, for reasons he will regret almost immediately, seems to have filed that fact away and forgotten it. Kiara has no interest in letting the lesson stay forgotten.
She doesn’t ease into anything. One clean throw puts him on his back. She’s on him before he can find his breath, thighs locking around his neck like a clamp that was built for this. She tightens on purpose, watching the color climb his face, listening to every choked sound he makes and treating each one like fuel. The more he suffers, the more she enjoys it. Once again, Nick is defeated again by Kiara.
When the noise starts to bore her, she covers his mouth with both hands. A thumb settles over the bridge of his nose and stays there. Air is gone. He thrashes under her, and that only makes her grip meaner. Her arms slide in next, wrapping his throat and squeezing until the room starts to smear at the edges of his vision.
She works her way between his bound hands, lifts her knees, and hangs him off the floor so he has nothing to brace against. No leverage. No exit. Her palms come back over his face while he tries to form words that never make it out. Kiara leans down until her mouth is at his ear, voice low and almost sweet, the kind of softness that still sounds like a threat.
When he fights too hard, those same arms close around his neck again. “Quiet,” she murmurs. “Stop fighting it.” She eases him down as the lights go out behind his eyes.
Nick Riley will remember what Kiara Star can do. Anyone watching should, too.
