
Rules: 2/3 falls

Fumie's heart raced as she stood in the dimly-lit backstage area, her hands shaking slightly. It all felt surreal: after years of watching LAW matches, she was finally about to participate in one—and it was a hentai match, no less. Uncertainty welled up in her chest as she waited for her signal.
"AND NOW, STANDING AT 152 CENTIMETERS, WEIGHING IN AT 48 KILOGRAMS, AND MAKING HER DEBUT... FUMIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!"
Fumie glanced backwards at her friends as her entrance music began to play. She received a slight smile and a nod from Ayame, and a smiling thumbs up from Claire. Miria smiled and slowly waved, while Mami grinned and waved somewhat energetically. Fumie stiffly grinned back at the four women, her heart still pounding. Then, she inhaled sharply and made her way out from backstage.
Fumie started out with a slow walk, casting sidelong glances at the audience as she made her way down the entrance ramp. Her breathing started to quicken and her muscles started to tense. She could practically feel the hundreds of eyes staring at her. Soon, Fumie broke out into a sprint, her eyes focused solely on the ring in front of her.
Once she reached the ring, Fumie clumsily climbed through the ropes, nearly getting tangled in the process. She made her way to one of the corners before resting her back on the turnbuckle padding.
Gotta get into the mood, thought Fumie as she closed her eyes. She thought back to the first LAW hentai match she had ever seen. But, rather than simply replay the the match in vivid detail, Fumie imagined herself in the middle of the match—specifically, she imagined herself in the loser's shoes. She envisioned herself folded up and exposed, with her womanhood being worked into orgasmic bliss by her opponent’s fingers. As her mind's eye went to work, Fumie's heart continued to beat rapidly. Her breathing became slightly ragged, her heated breath mixing in with the cool air of the arena.
Fumie would continue with this mental visualization until either the bell rang or her opponent did something to bring her back to reality. In the meantime, Fumie would just barely refrain from touching her groin and fondling herself. However, as she "warmed up" for this match, her hips would squirm ever so slightly and her breath would be ragged—while Fumie would not outwardly pleasure herself, an astute observer would likely be able to tell that something was up.


