L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Match type: Hentai Submission
Victory conditions: Force your opponent to submit via hentai move

If you had asked Elara one year ago where the journey of love would take her, never in a million years would she have guessed the wrestling ring. Yet as she looked at herself in the locker room mirror, adorned in her silk white leotard and floral accessories, Elara knew she had made the right choice. A lewd expression of passion and intimacy was everything Elara could have asked for in a debut. But perhaps not everyone saw tonight's match with such innocuity, for victory came in a rather salacious form: Break your opponent in both body and spirit, make her submit beneath the might of your sexual prowess!

A lesser woman might have been driven mad with lust at such a proposition, but not Elara. It was of the utmost important that she not lose sight of her mission, for her purpose in LAW was not merely to self indulge in pleasure and fantasy, but rather to spread the word of love and affection with all those who bear witness tonight. The most important pupil of all of course, would be her opponent. But should she fail at her task, should she lose her debut, Elara knew her message would be forever lost admist her own squeals of submission. Which was all the more reason Elara was willing to fight for her sanctity. As a crusader for love, a zealot of sensuality, Elara would not allow herself to become a victim to her opponent's desires and temptations. But the sensual icon feared not, for the Essence of Love had never once failed her before, nor would it fail her now.

Elara hadn't bothered to look up her opponent beforehand, wanting the first moment she laid her eyes on the woman to be a magical one. Draping a matching shawl across her arms, the Greek girl set out towards the entrance ramp, quietly uttering a communal prayer to the many goddesses of love before finally gracing the stage!

Theme

Elara Theodorou

Her entrance music filled the arena, accompanied by the welcoming cheers of thousands of spectators. A gentle smile graced Elara's lips as she made her way down the ramp for the very first time, her divine elegance and grace making every step look like it had been practiced a thousand times before. Her palms ascended upwards, basking the crowd in the pure white glow of her aura as she was waved to nearby viewers. Nigh upon the ring, Elara ascended up the metal steps, dipping between the ropes and promenading towards the center of the canvas. The audience received one last look at the newcomer in all her ethereal glory before the heavenly spotlight dimmed around her, allowing her to make a humble transition to her corner. Draping her shawl gently over the ringpost, Elara leaned back against the ropes with a satisfied sigh, her stoic expression expertly concealing the excitement brewing within her as she waited to witness her counterpart's entrance.

An umbral depth fell before crowds with mists of purple on the titantron screen. Faint, swirling, creating a void within a void until another dark line crossed it — and opened an eye that reflected light, a white luminescent iris, circular and growing in size to capture the whole screen. Her music started to the backdrop of thunder. The eye shaked in the frame. Across the middle spawned the words in sketchy, slanted and sharp-edged letters, with black middle and a purple outline -- NYARLATHOTEP

Fading over time.

The crawling chaos herself came from the whirling shape of purple smoke. She skipped, straight-faced, arms straight down. A thick oversized sweater swallowed her from neck to knee. Black fur around the collar, poofed so it resembled black flames around her head. At the ring’s edge, her head cracked to the side, and a stare of a thousand yards choose a section of the crowd. The titantron eye responded by slowly turning that way. When the giant eye closed, Nyarlathotep flicked her wrist, pulled from her pocket and made a circle around her own yellow eye. There, right there, the black eye re-emerged in the size of her fist. It vibrated with instability and faint purple clouds, before she twirled on the spot, flicked her wrist again, and she was normal. The eye on screen re-opened and continued to watch Nyarlathotep as she descended.

Up the steps she went and across the apron. Her music played to random speeds, often timed to thunder. She grabbed the top rope, jumped and lazily slung her leg over it. Her second leg came between middle and top, to hook over the foot while the top rope sat in her knee pocket. She dangled, purposefully awkward. Her arms slacked, slowly giving up her sweater to reveal a leotard, cut around mid-waist and half her rump. It had mostly shades of shadows and went over her shoulder to a droopy choker, then down her back. Her footwear was knee-high lace-ups, with knee-pads and a singular studded stocking on her right leg. She smiled, increasingly, becoming a wild grin as her sweater finally fell. Her tongue stuck out. Shifting her weight into momentum, she crunched her core all at once to come over and land inside the ring.

Nyarlathotep

Her stare immediately fell on her opponent. The grin died down to a lip-biting smile and her non-blinks matched her arrhythmic walk, taking a pace at different delays and trying to trap them against the ropes, only to dash all at once and place her hands on the ropes on either side of their waist. Given their heights, Nyarlathotep looked up, but still leaned in, chest to chest, and breath-to-breath. “Aren’t you a pretty diamond?”

She asked, with a black-nailed finger tracing Elara’s nose bridge. “I bet — you’re the kind of girl who dreams of losing her dear debut. Someone who comes in hopes for a challenge, and while a strong will to win exists, losing makes for an exhilarating comeback, a little ways down the line. Am I right?”

Elara had been warned to expect the unexpected when it came to the women of LAW. Yet nothing could have prepared her for when she would finally lay eyes on the woman she'd be calling her opponent tonight. An omniscient eye lit up the ginormous screen above the entrance way, while a vibrant void of purple and black lettering spelled out her name below. Beneath the spectacle stood a women equally as stunning as she was strange. Clad head to toe in nocturnal attire, with a grin upon her lips that spelled both delight and danger.

The debutant gripped the ropes a little tighter as her opponent made her way down the ramp, Elara's gentle smile unfaltering despite the macabre display in front of her. But then came perhaps the strangest demonstration of them all, a deception of the senses as the unsettling woman conjured up the cursed image of an eye between her digits. As Nyarlathotep dangled on the ropes, Elara couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, as a swell of uncertainly festered in the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes and relaxed her lips, letting the essence of love rekindle the passionate flame within her heart, stoking it's embers with thoughts of courage and bravery.

Elara let out a gasp as her eyelids fluttered open, revealing the sight of her opponent's face now just mere inches from her own, the woman's arms trapping her in place against the ropes. For all her lurid qualities, there was no denying the woman was hauntingly beautiful. The sharpness of her features worked well with the softness of her skin, the grimly gleam of her eyes a welcome compliment to the supple breath that flowed out her lips and washed over Elara's face. Elara had never seen such raw, dark beauty back home on the isles of Greece before. But it was Nyarlathotep's words that were perhaps the most interesting of all.

"No my sweet, you couldn't be more wrong" Elara whispered, her expression unfazed as the girl's gentle fingertips travelled down the length of her nose. "What use are dreams when you have the clairvoyance of the Oracles on your side?" She said rather mystically, slowly leaning forwards to match her opponent's presence against her chest with a little pressure of your own. "Do you wish to know what it is they have prophesized my dear... Nyarlathotep" Elara whispered the name, slowly and with purpose, her lips leaning forwards until they hovered just by the woman's ear. "Your submission to their will... to the power of love" The Greek girl spoke with a hushed and honeyed voice, before slowly turning her attention to all in the arena tonight. "For I am Elara, Sensual Serenity, Love personified! And love does not lose, love only conquers!" Elara's voice boomed with flowery jubilance, her declaration met with applause from the audience. "There will be no need for a comeback my dear. Only your submission, your subservice, your...sweetness. A most welcome sacrifice to the power of love, wouldn't you agree?" Elara cooed with the slightest hint of irony in her voice, her ample bosom continuing to press even deeper against Nyaralathotep's.

There’s no doubt in Nyarlathotep’s borderless mind that this woman carried an aura of her own. She was her own Cthulu. Someone tall and loud. And by the press of their bodies. Strong. Very strong. Savoured and sipped like wine, she flexed her tummy and reinforced her stance. Their chests squished in what increasingly became a lack of personal space. Two heart beats, bouncing to different beats. And by the by, you couldn’t notice that more with how she finished. Powerful as their frame. Nyarlathotep remained staunch in her approach. “That was… Positively nauseating, E-la-ra.” Nyarlathotep spoke in an ethereal voice, stressing the syllables by tongue-click.

Going on her tippy-toes, you’d be forgiven for thinking Nyarlathotep was going for something else. But, the crowd’s breath was stolen and then invigorated when Nyarlathoep suddenly snapped her hand around their throat. She squeezed the sides, but not the front. Her head tilted, aligned herself with her neck and spoke into it. “You know what I think conquers more?”

A warm breath blew on their jugular vein through an O. “Carnality. When you think about it, aren't we competing to reduce each other to a husk? Strangling each other down, then fucking until someone screams surrender, against every yearn to win? Your mind will resent me. But your body won't. You'll feel gross and alive, all at once. Do you understand what I'm implying, E-la-ra?” She grinned into a cheshire cat, then traced her hand up their arm, over the shoulder, joined at the neck, and on their chin, should they allow it. Her leg pushed against theirs, just as she rubbed their cheeks with thumbs and wanted their head to tilt down to her. Eye to eye. “Your love won't last.”

For a girl seeped in darkness, Elara couldn't help but admire the warmth that seeped out of Nyarlathotep. Everything from the breath that poured out her lips, to her skin pressed closely to her own, all of it radiated with a comforting heat that clashed starkly with the woman's cool eyes. Nyaralathtotep's neck craned upwards, her mouth closing in on Elara's own. The act, just like the pressing of body upon body, was no doubt meant to be an invasion of space, the first of what was bound to be a great number of intrusions that would occur in this ring tonight. But Elara welcomed the closeness with tender lips, her diligently composed demeanor signalizing to all that she was entirely unfazed by her opponent's proximity. That was, until Nyarlathotep's fingers ventured a little too close for comfort.

"Uack!" Elara sputtered as the sides of her throat were caught between the grip of her opponent's pointed fingers. Her own hand shot forward, latching onto the girl's wrist, but Nyaralthotep's grip was commanding, if not overwhelming. But perhaps even more uncomfortable than the hold was her utterly misguided words, a misconstrued mess that distorted and reduced the essence of love into it's most primal and elementary form. Nyaralthotep's finger caressing her cheek did little to stifle the well of disappointment brewing inside her.

"Yes... you will squeal... you will... scream... you will submit. But not out of carnality... but out of love!" Elara chocked between her breaths. "For my love... is... immortal!" Elara's said with a surge of defiance, finally summoning the will to lift Nyaralthotep's fingers from around her throat. With one swift move, the sensual rookie surprised the crowds by quickly pivoting around her opponent, maintaining her grip on the girl's wrist as she adeptly maneuvered the limb behind their back and began applying upwards pressure with a hammerlock. If the maneuver had been successful, Elara would then drag the both of them a few steps back, making sure her opponent would find no early release in the ropes. Her gentle gaze met the referee's, the official clearly getting the message that the match had begun, and with that, they signaled for the bell to be rung.

"You poor, misguided soul, deluded into confusing the power of love with the lowliness of lust. But worry not, for before the night is over, you will learn what love truly is, and yield before it. I pray that it be through pleasure - " Elara's voice slowly trailed off her her mouth descended upon the back of Nyarlathotep's head, her tongue flicking outwards as it swiped up against the length of the girl's neck, savoring the taste of her soft skin. "lest it be through pain" She said somewhat more ominously, wrenching the hammerlock upwards once more to emphasize her point!

The feel of an unsettled pulse was arousing. Palm-side, where the veins mesh, a little beat jumps and jumps as Nyarlathotep collects her kicks from applying her hand choke. Elara seemed like such a wonderful little challenge. All this teal, wrapped up in simple uniform, with a crown to peel and clothes that didn’t even need to come off. She already undressed Elara with her eyes.

Still. Their voice is enormous. As is their strength, peeling Nyarlathotep’s hand free from their throat, then making her lurch, grunt, then arch towards her opponent as the hammerlock bit into bone and joint. “Hgn…Hgh..” Teeth clenched, an eye squeezed, body bent. The bell rang and Nyarlathotep followed their lead towards the ring’s centre.

Delight rose in the crowd’s voices. Their eagerness was palpable from their tension. For a moment, Nyarlathotep looked pained, then angry, then grinned again, teeth showing in this emotive turn of the page. The warm-wet stroke trailing up her nape was part of it. Its shivers went down into her tailbone.

If this was anywhere more intimate, she’d turn around, kiss them and ask for a fuck right then and there. But this was a ring. And she wasn’t Novalee. “Nnggghh!... Fu-fu-fu~” Nyarlathotep flexed her back into them to ease the hammerlock’s doubled pressure, then clicked her tongue.

“There’s a third option, E-la-ra.”

Calm as you like, Nyarlathotep enveloped Elara’s head with an arm, then seated herself in front of them, pulling them into a bend. She rolled onto one shoulder, coming around, with the hammerlock undone, then scrambled quickly to weave herself under Elara’s arm, totally reversing the hammerlock into one of her own! Nyarlathotep aligned her head right beside theirs, in what looked like fluent ritual wrestling magic. She then whispered, “Hate.” Before biting a portion of their cheek, and nibbled on it to leave a fresh love bite, and in tandem, torque the hammerlock!

The enchanting rookie had managed to open the fight with some bite to match her bark, expertly weaving her opponent into a tight hammerlock far and away from the relief of the ropes. In rewards for her efforts, Elara even got to sample the sweet taste of her opponent's skin, a delectable if not surprising flavor given the girl's bitter mystique. But only a few seconds after Elara's honey coated threat, Nyarlathotep issued a statement of her owned through strained breath. Elara's eyebrow piqued, her ear moving closer in genuine curiosity of what option could possible be greater than that of love?

Only to have her position used against her! No sooner then when Nyaralathotep spoke did she initiate her reversal, exquisitely maneuvering and rolling herself until it was Elara who found herself in the hammerlock! The while-laced rookie elicited a yelp of surprise follow by squeal of shock as her arm found itself creeping ever upwards along the length of her back. The sharp pain of her elbow torqued against it's natural alignment was matched only in intensity by Nyarlathotep's shocking word.

"Hate?" Elara softly whispered, the true essence of the word muddled by the stinging love bite's of her opponent's lips and teeth. Each nibble sent her skin rippling with pleasure, requiring immense discipline from the love-filled rookie not to moan out in satisfaction. But why one would dare to bring such a disturbing emotion to the ring, a battleground of love and determination in the eyes of Elara, was beyond her understanding. But she'd let no women pollute her heart witch such notions of malic and vitriol! "Do not let hate cast it's shadow over your heart my dear Nyarlathotep." Elara stated slowly, doing her best to conceal her pain behind a softer tone. As she spoke, the greek girl began to shifts her weight, sinking lower while subtly pivoting her hips "Hate is the natural enemy of love... an enemy love has no choice but to destroy" Elara declared with a little more grit in her voice. She let the words sink in for a second longer, before suddenly jutting her hips behind her, hoping to disrupt Nyarlathotep's hold! If she was successful, then Elara would gracefully rotate her body in one fluid motion, leveraging her opponent's momentum to force Nyaralthetotep into an elegant arm drag, one that would quickly transform into an irish whip towards the ropes.

"But tonight need not see such destruction. Open your heart to love before it is too late Nyarlathotep, or I shall open it for you!" Elara declared with divine reverence as the goth girl tumbled across the ring. Elara stood by patiently to deliver on her promise, her arm primed and ready to smash right into the center of Nyarlathotep's chest with a lariat on the rebound!

Speed and opening pace, into the hold, over the hill and onto the next. Yes! Sensual Serenity was exactly how she was meant to be. Trapped, struggling and subject to Hate’s affection. An equal passion to fuel aggression, so genuine and pure, and truly felt. “Who’s to say it hasn’t already?” A sneer, then a bend towards Elara’s pivot, trying to control and shadow, and keep their centres of gravity in Nyarlathotep’s favour. Block any swift movement. Then take an arm and wrap it around their soft, unmarked neck.

And while seemed to succeed there, her guess on Elara’s movement was dead wrong. A second later, her belly ate Elara’s hips. “Kugh..” Hunched and strength momentarily interrupted, she flipped over Elara’s horizontal side and onto her back, making the canvas thonk. One moment, she’s winded, then the next she’s standing with a trapped arm, like the inevitable flow of water down a stream, up and sent running.

Her legs struggled to keep pace. But it didn't need to for long.

Her back hit the ropes, stretched and slingshotted her back. Faster and faster. She saw Elara waiting and the anxiety zapped her heart. The arm smashed her breasts at full power, reforming them. She gasped. “GHK-!” And her legs swung out. Her torso stopped dead while her legs kept running, then looked to run up an invisible wall before getting higher than her head. She struck the canvas on her shoulder-blades, hips angled up off the canvas before laying out. Her thighs slapped together and the small top layer of fat jiggled. Immediately, both arms came over her chest and her wide-eyed gasp transitioned into a scowl and self-hug, turning onto her side to kick, fume and look at Elara. “Hah! You couldn’t open a can of worms! Ngh. Not with those sissy hands.”

Aided by the winds of desire, Elara's throw sent her opponent hurtling back towards her with remarkable speed. Her outstretched arm found its mark in the most welcome of targets, smack dab in the center of Nyarlathotep's breasts, her mounds mushrooming over the edges of Elara's limb as they absorbed the impact in all its force. The resulting thud on the canvas was enough to inform the Greek that her blow had delivered the intended damage. The look of pain in the woman's eyes and anger in her voice did little to deter Elara from her mission. Though there was still much pleasure to be had in this match, pain must first find its way to passion's light.

Elara knelt down by her opponent's head, gently caressing the flesh of her cheek as Nyarlathotep stared up at her with a scowl. "It is by these hands that I will bring you into untold worlds of bliss. I would not be so quick to dismiss them, my love." Elara's tender fingers suddenly took on a more commanding grip, latching onto the back of Nyarlathotep's scalp as she forcefully aided the woman back to her feet. "By the end of this match, these hands will know every curve, every crevice, every fold of your body. Surrender quickly to them, Nyarlathotep, so that their purpose may be one of pleasure and not of pain."

There was power in Elara's words; now all they needed was truth. Intending to deliver exactly that, Elara carefully began taking advantage of her grip on her opponent to position their head into the crook of her arm. Her other hand clamored at Nyarlathotep's waist, fingers digging deep as they sought purchase in the tight fabric of her leotard. Whether the girl still had enough wits about her to retaliate was surely in the minds of the audience. In just a second more, Elara would dramatically stomp her foot into the mat before attempting to send her opponent slamming back-first into the canvas with a resounding snap-suplex!

It made her a bagpipe with a blown bag for half a tick.
She couldn’t refill. So her legs just shut off beyond weaker, weighed-down movements. They came back online after a short stint, but that was when Elara touched her cheek. It became difficult to force up a mean stare. When eyes meet eyes, Novalee had the tendency to smile. Brightly. A bad habit — unfit for Nyarlathotep. She controlled it and retained her scowl, thinking of what to say or do. Her hair was grabbed before then. She yelped.

“N-Nyagh!” And up she went into Elara’s grip. Her feet came underneath in no time. She hunched, had her head tucked underneath Elara’s dominant arm and her hands grabbed at it. The goal was to step back and yoink her head free. It wasn’t suffocating. But it could easily become so. Then her leotard was grabbed, pulled and rode up her supple skin, exposing more hip.

It stopped her attempts pretty dead flat. She was caught, and could only brace as the ring snapped and Nyarlathotep whipped overhead then down before she knew it. “Grraa!” Growled a splattered Nyarlathotep, arching off the canvas immediately and pressing down with her boots, lifting her butt then crossing an arm under her back, holding it while wincing. “It… won’t… change the outcome!”