L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Iron Belly Battle
Opponents must make one another's muscle tension break while pressed belly to belly.
First to three muscle breaks wins.
No direct strikes on the belly area. Submissions that target the belly are allowed.
No rope breaks for belly to belly attacks against the ropes or corners.
Bikini Attire
Private Match

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Ionel wasn't 100% sure how she ended up in this private venue. Apparently, it was some blondie lady's fanclub. What was her name again? Claire? Clarice? The past days or so went by in a bit of a blur but one thing was for certain; it wasn't often she saw a hardbody like that slightly snobby, prideful looking blondie she saw on the TV and the gym. She seemed a towering giantess on television but in person, she seemed disappointingly smaller.

Yet not weaker by a longshot. Her shapely, semi-globular bust and impressively large biceps easily caught her attention - not uncommon where she was from. Yet maybe she'd seen Ionel walking her way like some omen of doom with her 6''7 frame and absurdly well built frame near impossible to miss. Ionel's world seemed to be reduced to both her body and Clara's (what was that damn name again?).

She wanted that body real bad and she wasn't sure what happened next. Her mind already raced with wild dreams of their incredibly flexed, straining bodies grinding against one another, aroused and inflamed in equal measure. Two goddesses of gains and power testing one another to their absolute limits, not for sexual pleasure (of which there was already plenty) but pride and art. The sort of art you only understood if you came from a league 80% based around humping other women flat.

Did Eclaira (Eclarice?) see through her? She wasn't even sure what she said specifically but she did issue a challenge. She remembered the other woman simply said yes; something something "don't make it too sexual", blah blah blah "but you don't get to smother, I want those abs and nothign else."

In more concise terms, some might say Ionel was down bad.

The same blur of mind-muddied sexual excitement carried her over to the ring where the crowd of adorers simply became an amorphous, noisy blur as Ionel did her usual arm-pumping, muscle flexing show and leaned against the ropes. Ionel was impatient. She'd come to LAW looking for fresher, somehow even more muscled pastures but so far, found few women who she could say had truly tested her abs. By the time she found the blonde whose name she wasn't even going to try to remember, she was a little desperate to say the least. It was practically divine blessing that slightly compact but no doubt impressive woman had said yes!

She didn't get why she thought there should be nothing "too sexual" but she wasn't complaining.

As Eclaire entered the ring, Ionel's brain would momentarily escape from a state of carnal hunger for a sudden, lucid consciousness.

"Hope the crowd knows which of us will be slinging the other over their shoulder when this is over. May the mightier abs win~"

She'd walk to the centre of the ring, raise both her hands, yet push her belly outwards. Flexed yes, but a close eye would notice not completely - the usual peaks and valleys of her raw, powerful abs weren't fully revealed - as if she had a few surprises in store for her opponent as she offered a test of strength and tummies.

When Eclaire did her extensive research on the types of wrestling matches she could be encountering, at no point did find a sliver of information on "Iron Belly" types. The idea of forgoing her fantastic strikes completely left her with the slightest hint of unease, and not even so much as a smother to throw in a little spice? The mere premise alone sounded positively droll! The idea of participating in something so blatantly lacking in flair was absurd to somebody as fabulous as Eclaire!

Yet here she was, clad in a shimmering crimson bikini and stepping into the ring where a giant of an American beauty awaited. It was only after watching Ionel's debut match where Eclaire learned the appeal to the action soon to go down. It was carnal, almost primal in nature but with it came an undeniable sense of superiority! Crushing the opposition's body with nothing but your own, watching their muscles go soft and squeeze helplessly against one's now undoubtedly superior figure! Watching the pride and confidence slip away into an instinctual submissive lust! It was certainly undignified and crude...for the loser anyway. Which just meant she would have to break the jaws of defeat and walk away even more illustrious than she came in with muscles firmer than ever!

Though given the risks that come with such a sensuous match, Eclaire had taken a precaution by picking the venue herself: a private ring with only her staff among the crowd to make perfectly sure nothing went awry to her reputation. Of course, the chance of something going wrong for the illustrious Ruby Tycoon is positively minuscule...but between the epitome of lust that was Ionel's gaze and the heart-throbbing feeling, Eclaire coursed with as she pressed her abs against the American's own? That precaution was more than a little warranted.

This was the first time Eclaire found herself being towered over so drastically. The usual aura of intimidation and dominance that came with her stunning stature was null and void. The height difference was enough to place Ionel's underboobs atop Eclaire's bosom entirely! Nobody could blame the tycoon if she felt the least bit daunted if she did to begin with. Yet she quite literally welcomed her opposition with open arms the moment the bell rang out! "Over? Darling you can't be so focused on the destination already, we've barely begun the journey! And I can assure you I plan on taking my VERY sweet time."

The bell sounding off didn't kick off an explosive start, but Eclaire quite literally welcoming Ionel with open arms! Killer biceps would be eager to try and wrap around that impressive rock solid back. As if to try and feel up those muscles to explore just what she'd be getting into before going in for a bearhug outright! Eclaire's slow but steady approach was practically an invite for Ionel to do the same!

"It'll be your orgasms, all three, with a couple to spare if you want." Ionel smacked her meaty fists against her collarbone and her jugs wobbled from the impact. Such a display might have come off as childish or brutish by others. For the tower of power stomping towards Eclaire, the absolute conviction radiating not just from her words but her powerful stride made it sound moreso as a promise than a boat. There was no careful approach or raising of her arms as if ready to fight. It seemed Ionel might simply walk through her like a human tank.

Arrogant as she could be, Ione lwas grounded enough of a wrestler to raise those hands as she lunged, aiming to bring her momentum not forward but downwards onto Eclaire. Her arms rose then descended, aiming to try and seize Eclaire's wrists with her own. Yet it wasn't a hug she was after. No, she had the very namesake of the match on her mind.

If her hands met Eclaire's wrists, Ionel would press down with great force. A lesser woman might buckle and end up on her knees but Ionel guessed all those tight clusters of power on the tycoon's body weren't for show. She wasn't trying to bow her before her own mighty body. It was to make her bend down just enough for her follow up strike. As she pressed down, Ionel's upper torso would bend forward, leaving room for her mighty belly to swing forward.

With Eclaire hopefully in position, Ionel's would thrust forward with her abs in a rising swing, aiming to smash her tensed up bulkhead-muscles into Eclaire's! If the smash was successful and she hit her mark, she'd release her wrists. The impact would presumably send Eclaire staggering backwards, giving her time to posture and bounce her pectoral muscles, jiggling her breasts and fleing her mighty abs once more to an awed crowd.

Eclaire was a showgirl. So how would she respond when someone far cruder but arguably just as charismatic was trying to show her up?

Even in these private quarters, with the only eyes drawn having vowed to never tell a soul what would transpire, Eclaire still felt a sense of unease. It would be quite the lie to say she wasn't the flirtatious type, and that lascivious thoughts weren't surging through her mind nearly every time she laid eyes on a stunning beauty. However, indulging her base cravings in the squared circle? There mere concept seemed ludicrous! And yet her foe was practically dripping with the intent to blur the lines between wrestling and bedroom magic.

Eclaire was lost in her own thoughts as Ionel's sensual strut closed the gap between them. Trying to piece together what this feeling was in her chest. It certainly wasn't fear, and there wasn't a chance in hell she was nervous. Yet some feeling was gnawing at her, distracting her, and making it all too easy for her American foe to take hold of her wrists with no resistance. Next thing Eclaire knew, she was being hard pressed as her abs were struck by what felt like an out-of-control freight train! Eclaire had taken dropkicks, haymakers, and even baseball bats to her belly before and yet none of them had make her flinch as much as Ionel's weaponized belly just then!

The pain gave way to clarity and as Eclaire regained her footing, she realized the identity of the feeling that had left her wide open: temptation. Now as far as Eclaire was concerned, Ionel was little more than a primal beast. Giving into her base nature of wanton lust and desire with no sense of class or finesse. And it couldn't be clearer from the way she flaunted herself, that simply being around her for too long would reduce Eclaire to being an equally lustful beast. A fate ever so tempting, but not one the tycoon was aching to succumb to. A deep breath and winning smile did little to hold back her own desire; a desire to see Ionel's face twisted with pleasure and those prized abs grinded to a soft mess, yet it would have to do for now. With every intent to leave her own mark on this match, Eclaire would sashay over to her bulky foe with arms outstretched. Coiling them around Ionel's hips and attempting to lift 300lbs clean off the floor! A herculean effort that would go into a body to body suplex if it succeeded! Eclaire aiming to perfectly line up her assets with Ionel's own and leave quite the indent upon smashing her against the mat!