First Bell, First Clue? - Laxia(D) vs. Bandita

[Letta]

Through the haze clouding Laxia’s vision, she caught sight of Bandita rolling with feline grace while Laxia remained curled on her side, clutching at her chest and stomach. The luchadora approached on all fours, seized Laxia by the shoulder, and firmly rolled her onto her back. Even while handling a body considerably larger than her own, there was not the slightest hesitation in her touch. Both of Laxia’s shoulders met the mat. The arm that had been soothing her aching chest was soon caught by Bandita and swept aside. Thump -

The strengthless limb fell limply against the canvas, leaving Laxia’s impact-reddened chest completely exposed. The arm protecting her stomach soon met the same fate. Once Bandita caught her wrist and moved it aside, nothing remained to shield Laxia’s body. A faint flush colored her bare abdomen as it rose and fell with every labored breath, the subtle lines of her abs briefly emerging whenever she exhaled. Squinting against the arena’s bright lights, Laxia released ragged breaths through slightly parted lips. Her shoulders rested against the canvas, while both arms lay scattered helplessly at her sides. For that brief moment, she was utterly defenseless. Bandita’s intentions could not have been clearer. As the luchadora climbed across her body, Laxia’s blue eyes wavered faintly. Then Bandita’s bare stomach finally settled across her own. The luchadora’s tightly tensed abs stretched over Laxia’s abdomen, which had yet to recover from the impact. Before the warmth of their touching skin could fully register, Laxia felt the firm, unwavering pressure bearing down on her.

“Ugh……!”

Her waist twitched reflexively. It was a strange sensation. A luchadora smaller than herself now lay across her body, keeping both of her shoulders pinned to the mat. There could be no mistaking which woman was controlling the other. The fact clawed viciously at Laxia’s pride. What rested upon her stomach was more than mere body weight. It felt as though Bandita’s hard-earned strength, together with her determination to maintain control, was pressing Laxia into the canvas. And yet, the tense abdominal muscles pressed against her own were…… not nearly as unpleasant as she had expected. Each time Laxia drew a ragged breath, her stomach expanded faintly beneath Bandita, only for that small movement to be immediately checked by the body above her. Through their bare skin, the warmth of their bodies and the tension held within their muscles passed freely between them.

Being completely overpowered and feeling her opponent’s body from this close were sensations that proved strangely difficult to separate. Then Laxia became even more keenly aware of her own body reacting beneath Bandita than she was of the woman restraining her. Whenever she tried to exert herself, the faint definition of her muscles briefly drew taut. But when she realized that even those tiny reactions must be transmitting directly into Bandita, it suddenly felt as though the body that normally obeyed her will so faithfully had become far too honest. How hard she was breathing. How desperately she was trying to summon her strength. And how quickly that resistance kept fading away.. With nothing but their bodies pressed together, the luchadora could surely feel all of it. It was humiliating. And yet, the sensation remained strangely vivid, almost thrilling. What am I thinking……?!

Laxia clenched her teeth as though she could drive the confusion from her mind. This was no time to be dwelling on sensations like these. She had to escape the pin. I have to get out……! It could not end like this. Not yet. Even now, Laxia refused to lie still beneath her. She jerked her shoulders and twisted at the waist, raising one whenever the other touched the mat. Whenever Bandita forced her back down, Laxia shifted her legs and tried to change the angle of her body. The referee crouched beside them, carefully watching the line of Laxia’s shoulders, but she had yet to begin the count. Both shoulders simply refused to remain flat against the mat for long enough. Each attempt to gather her strength sent a dull ache spreading from deep within her stomach. Laxia’s body tensed and briefly pushed up against Bandita, but her resistance never lasted. Her strength soon drained away, lowering her back toward the canvas, and Bandita remained close enough to capitalize on every opening.

Each time Laxia tried to push her away, Bandita absorbed the movement and pressed back down. Even in that brief contest between their closely joined bodies, the advantage belonged to the luchadora. Then an unwanted question slipped into Laxia’s thoughts. Does she feel the same thing I do..? Could she feel Laxia moving beneath her with every ragged breath, tensing and relaxing again and again beneath the pressure? Was Bandita just as keenly aware of her body as Laxia was of hers? The moment her thoughts wandered that far, Laxia hurriedly furrowed her brow. This was hardly the time to wonder about such things. Then she felt Bandita seize her thigh and pull it into the air. “Wha……!”

As one leg folded deeply alongside Bandita’s waist, Laxia’s hips lifted from the canvas and her weight shifted toward her upper body. The freedom she had used to twist her lower half vanished in an instant, forcing both shoulders firmly against the mat. This time was different. Even when Laxia tried to turn, the position held. Bandita’s arm cinched tightly around her raised leg, while the luchadora’s widely spread stance anchored the pin without the slightest wobble. The hold was finally complete. Only then did the referee raise her hand.

“ONE...!”

The first count struck the mat beside Laxia’s head, its vibration traveling beneath her back and through her entire body. The tips of her orange-red hair trembled where they lay scattered across the canvas. Laxia’s eyes snapped open. She tried twisting again. One arm pressed against the mat, but the trapped leg prevented her from creating enough leverage, and she was forced back down. The referee’s hand rose once more. Laxia’s blue eyes followed it upward.

“TWO....!!”

The instant the second count struck the canvas, Laxia poured everything she had left into one desperate effort. She drove her free leg against the mat while planting one palm beside her and violently twisting her body to the side. “Nh……!” The leg hooked by Bandita made the movement sluggish, but Laxia straightened her supporting arm and pushed against the canvas with everything she had. At last, her body tipped sideways and one shoulder broke clearly away from the mat. The referee’s hand froze in midair. The third count never came. Despite escaping the pin, Laxia could not rise immediately. She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow, drawing harsh breaths through the tangled curtain of her orange hair. “Haah…… hah…….” Her shoulders rose and fell heavily, and strength had yet to fully return to her battered body. Laxia drew in another ragged breath.

“Surely you weren’t planning…… to end our dance so soon..?”

[CyanDimitrik]

Every time Bandita settled into Laxia's body, the ginger had arched, jerked, and struggled. Not enough to break free, of course. But it was noticeable. The whole thing felt like it took several minutes, when in reality, only a few seconds had passed. Did Bandita feel it? The same thing Laxia was feeling? Without a doubt. She'd pinned many girls this way, especially after executing the Heist of the Century. She was comfortably familiar with the sensation of foreign skin pressed beneath her, ranging between soft and untrained midsections to chiseled and sleek six-packed abdominals. This particular stomach is somewhere in the middle - a fact that's blaring in her mind right now. Every breath shared between them invites a rhythmic push, a flex. Especially when she seizes that leg and tucks her body in tighter to herself.

Why does it stand out so much? Why is this one unique? Because this girl is remarkably pretty, and dresses like a fantasy come to life, in a professional wrestling setting. She hits all of the right notes in the fluttery song Bandita didn't even know she was playing. The theatricality of just how refined she looks, the big, expressive eyes, the slender body, and now, feeling her smooth stomach and the subtly firm press of abdominal muscles beneath her - it's all extremely distracting. So with each count, Bandita has allowed herself to simply... sink into the moment. No one else has to know she's enjoying wrestling with this girl more than on a competitive level. No doubt the ginger thinks of her as a kid, anyway! So-- no need to muddy things.

She feels the tension in Laxia's flexing stomach first and foremost. That's where the strength to kick out comes from, or at least is connected to; the core! And that's the first large signal that Laxia is about to work her shoulder up off the mat. So when the referee suddenly rears back and waves a pair of deuces to signal to the audience and timekeeper, she's not surprised. Not in any small part because Laxia manages to roll her waist beneath Bandita's pressing midsection.

"Shoulder's up! Two-count!"

Bandita's hold on Laxia's leg has naturally become fuddled with the rotation. When forced with the decision to either try to keep ahold of her leg and be rolled forward with her, or let it loosen, she opted for the safer approach and went with the latter. Bandita's upper-body balance remained braced on her elbow against the mat, while the other hand now rests against Laxia's outer thigh. She rests against her waist for a few seconds, listening to the other woman's voice.

Which earns a smile. She's so classy, even when being roughed up. ..ayy, no swooning!

She pushes herself up onto her knees to look down at her again with a bright smile, giving Laxia enough room to properly prop herself on an elbow. "Wouldn't dream of it!," she chirps, her voice perky. It would've been nice to pin her there, but a part of her is excited that she didn't. Every second Laxia hangs on, the more she gets to be impressed with her. Her endurance, her determination, her pluck. All the things one wouldn't expect of a refined, beautiful aristocrat, especially in such a physical setting.

..no swooning!

Her smile had, unknowingly to her, shifted into something encouraging and earnest. Less playful, more genuinely admiring.

Suddenly, Bandita sets a hand behind her shoulder, the other hand over her waist to roll her over facedown on the mat. No distractions! She has a match to wrestle and, most importantly, win! She's not the only person relying on her, here! There's more at stake than her pure love of the sport and fascination with her opponent!

The luchadora throws herself down over Laxia's back, at first laying over her; her hips pressed to the noble's backside as an anchor, the soft yield of her breasts behind her shoulders, her hands seizing upon her biceps. She leans upwards, bringing her lips closer to Laxia's ear. Every exhale is a soft wave of warmth against her skin as she whispers:

"We can't end it without doing 'de big lift finale, can we?"

Just as quickly, the luchadora is pushing off of her to stand. With precise, practiced steps, Bandita plants her right foot over Laxia's right thigh just above the knee joint. Leaning down, the gathers up Laxia's right shin to fold back and hook the ankle over her shin. Then the left foot to mirror on the left thigh, similarly restraining Laxia's leg by twining the ankle over her shin again. Still bent over, the Latina issues a single, sharp slap against the slope of her waist at either side, all to prompt her arms to shoot back instinctively in defense. The arms, of course, which are seized at the wrists.

She begins rocking with her captive, rolling Laxia's balance from belly to hips, then forward to chest, then back to hips...

"It's usually 'de boys doing 'de lifting. But you'll forgive me for doing 'de honors, princesa?"

Forward to chest again, then at last, a smooth, full rotation past the hips to transferring Bandita onto her back! Arms and legs reaching into the air, forcing Laxia's arms to be fully outstretched backwards, the soles of her boots pressed into the girl's thighs and forcing the fulcrum of pressure to focus at the base of her spine, the romero special submission holds is a multi-faceted terror of stretching and strain - the arms hyper-extended backwards, the spine arched with her full weight on that singular point. The smooth muscletone along Bandita's arms and legs are flexed to support the other girl's weight and maintain control, presenting Laxia's outstretched body to the skylights.

The sea of darkness surrounding the ring speckles in flickering, starry pinpoints as cameras flash and immortalize the moment. The referee-girl quickly drops to her knees closer to Laxia's face. Knowing full well that the noble can't physically tap out in this position, she asks, "Do you submit!?"