Safiyah Neferet vs. The Morrigan - Goddesses of War

[BlackAkuma]

If there was one thing Safiyah had made clear throughout this match, it was that she was an expert on reading people - or, rather, reading Morrigan. The woman seemed one step ahead of her at all times, like they were just going through the motions of a play that had already been determined. It was a little infuriating, but the allure was undeniable, too. She couldn't remember the last time she’d been so dominated, so controlled in a fight by someone barely half her size.

That didn't mean she was going quietly into the good night, of course, far from it. It wasn’t in her nature to not rage out, which was probably why she and Safiyah were clashing. Two wildly different women, approaching dominance in different directions.

This time, it didn’t pay off for Morrigan. Her headbutt whiffed, and by the time she moved about to correct things, it was too late - Safiyah had her snagged, tied up with her own rope. It could’ve been worse, she could’ve picked the itchy-as-fuck hemp rope, but the nylon material still bit deep into her skin and spun her about, as the two of them engaged in one of the lewdest tug-of-wars in history.

Safiyah pulled her forward, trying to take her off balance, and succeeding far more than Morrigan would’ve wanted to admit. While she had the superior power, no question, leverage belonged to the Egyptian, and if she did not get wrapped up, she needed to change things up.

Instead of pulling away, Morrigan surged up and rushed towards Safiyah, trying to ram her shoulder into the woman’s stomach and smashed against the St. Andrew’s Cross.

[Lightman]

Safiyah felt the strain in the rope like a pulse between them, every tug and pull feeding her with subtle information. Morrigan’s defiance was raw, unrefined, all brute muscle pushing against the cord, but every surge betrayed balance lost, every adjustment gave her something to work with. She stayed silent, gaze level and body fluid, letting the giant grind herself into a disadvantage by force alone.

The nylon rasped against Morrigan’s arm as Safiyah twisted her wrist, guiding the bulk where she wanted rather than where the woman intended. One step back, a sharp pull, a sidestep, and Morrigan’s momentum shifted again, pressed into the angles Safiyah dictated. The leash was not yet complete, but its shape was there, forming coil by coil around the powerhouse who thought herself unyielding.

When Morrigan lunged forward, shoulder dropping low to drive her back, Safiyah braced her toes against the floor, feeling the rush like a wall about to collapse over her. She yielded, not by choice, swept up in the force. Her back struck hard against the padding as she was slammed against the St Andrew’s Cross, causing her to grunt through gritted teeth. The impact immediately burning through her ribs still reminded her of that bone-rattling spinebuster earlier. Painful as it was, Safiyah had to keep pushing on, lest she suffer greatly at the capable hands of the giant.

Fighting through the pain, her arms were already weaving, rope snaking higher. She looped fast, aiming to catch wrist against wood, anchoring the giant where the restraints were already waiting. If the tie held, Morrigan would find herself part-bound to the cross, chest heaving as Safiyah pressed close, using the narrow gap to trap her bulk. If not, then at the very least the rope would tighten further, twisting into flesh and dragging her attention back to the leash she had failed to shake.

[BlackAkuma]

The Morrigan surged forward, slamming shoulder-first into Safiyah’s fragile body. The impact sent Safiyah skidding backwards across the floor. Her agility offered no help; her slight frame made the force almost overwhelming, as if Morrigan might crash straight through her. Safiyah, barely more than 50 kilos, was thrown aside effortlessly by the juggernaut. The Morrigan barely felt the impact—easy work.

She wasn’t aiming to crush the woman yet, just to inflict some damage and escape the defensive position, so little strategy was involved. It simply felt good to hurt Safiyah, to feel that body yielding under hers – a rare thrill, she could tell. It wasn't often that this woman played so rough, but she could change that.

Now, she just had to capitalize on it. Unlike last time, Morrigan meant to seize her opening. Urgency crackled in the moment, and Safiyah sensed it, escalating her efforts with practiced efficiency. The Morrigan tried to yank away, but the Egyptian was swift and methodical, binding her first arm to the cross before she could even think of breaking free. A tight knot, too – she wasn’t escaping, not without ruining her own equipment. That was out of the question, since it was custom-made and expensive, fact that Sabine would definitely remind her if it broke. The life of a dominatrix could be an expensive one.

One arm secured. Good for Safiyah. The other wouldn’t be so easy.

With Safiyah occupied with the ropes, her torso was exposed, something she intended to exploit. The Morrigan’s fist hammered into the woman’s side again, drilling into her ribs with a pair of punishing blows, aiming to blast the wind from her. At the same time, she unleashed her brutal side and sank her teeth into the woman’s graceful neck, giving her a fierce bite—just hard enough to immobilize her without drawing blood.

[Lightman]

Safiyah’s body slammed into the cross with the full weight of Morrigan’s charge, the metal biting her back as air rushed from her lungs. The shoulder strike left her ribs stinging, and for a moment her slight frame buckled beneath the raw power pressing into her. Her toes flexed hard against the floor, grounding her, fighting against being tossed about like a ragdoll. She forced her breath steady, even as her chest ached with each inhale.

Still, she had caught the arm. That mattered. The rope had cinched tight in the chaos, and with each twist of her wrist, she secured the knot further, locking one of Morrigan’s limbs to the iron frame. It wasn’t victory, but it was a start. She knew it was leverage she could not waste.

Then came the punishment. Knuckles slammed into her ribs, jarring the fragile bones with cruel precision, each blow stealing more of her air. A sharp yelp tore free from her lips despite her best efforts to smother it, a sound edged with both fury and pain. Before she could suck in another breath, teeth sank into the side of her neck, sharp and merciless. The sensation forced her head to jerk, strands of dark hair spilling forward across her face. The bite stung hot, throbbing against her skin, but she pushed the sound from her throat into clipped defiance.

“...Off!”

Bare toes gripped the stone as she pressed in harder, fighting through the pain to anchor herself, determined not to yield the ground she had taken.

[BlackAkuma]

And Oh, Morrigan heard that yelp, and she loved it. Safiayh was doing a good job of suppressing her turmoil, doing her best to play the stoic act. She was mostly succeeding, too, but there was only ever so much that anyone could hold back, especially when someone was ramming a fist deep into your gut. It was more than a little satisfying, and she made sure that Safiyah could see the smile on her face as she pulled back from the bite.

”Hey, not my fault you taste so good.” She snickered and ran her tongue along the reddened patch of skin. ”You want to play rough? We’re playing rough.”

Safiyah was close, but Morrigan wanted her closer - she wrapped her free arm around the woman’s waist and pulled them together, a halfway attempt at a bearhug. It likely wouldn’t hurt too much, couldn't do real damage, but that wasn’t the point, really - she wanted this woman immobile, her choices shortened.

And having their bodies pressed against each other was a welcome bonus. She pressed their foreheads together as her hot breath cascaded over the woman’s face. ”Nice and snug, just like I like it. What’s your move, now?”

[Lightman]

Safiyah’s ribs still burned from the last assault, each breath shallow against the weight of Morrigan’s strength. The bearhug closed around her waist like an iron band, pinning her slender frame against muscle and heat. Their foreheads touched, breath mingling, Morrigan’s words daring her, mocking her. The closeness was suffocating, not just from the pressure, but from the reminder of how easily this brute could cage her in.

“Ngh...”

Pain pulsed through her own ribs; her neck still stung from the bite, but she fought through it. Safiyah angled her head to one side, trying to slip free of the suffocating press of their foreheads, her muscles taut as coiled wire. It was not brute force she relied on, but precision, her body working like a lever, sharp and efficient, as she sought the smallest gap that might turn Morrigan’s hold into her downfall.Her hips twisted and shimmied against the bearhug, feeling where the gaps in pressure lay. Luckily for her, the one-armed bearhug kept the pressure from reaching its full potential. Which meant that Safiyah could still resist and rebel against her captor. One foot pressed on the thigh of Morrigan, her chest slithering upwards on the titan’s own, at least, however much she could with the tight space this bearhug allowed.

Safiyah’s lips barely parted, but it would give Morrigan her answer. “This.”

Once Safiyah had got herself to a good height, both legs curled up, thighs pressing against Morrigan’s sides. A bodyscissor would have been too predictable, and judging from the frame that’s pressed onto her, she wouldn’t have enough leverage to give a hefty crush. Most likely, that would encourage the brute to press in more.

Instead, she would use both heels to swing and hammer towards Morrigan’s lower back. Spine, kidneys, it didn’t matter where they would land. All the while, Safiyah would seek to return the favour, delivering a bite of her own. Not much pleasure, but a lot of pain.

[BlackAkuma]

The Morrigan’s bearhug - if you could even call it that with one arm - might not have been the most powerful thing, but it hardly needed to be. The beating she had given Safiyah earlier had been brief, too brief, but long enough to accomplish what she needed from it, churning up the Egyptian’s innards and rattling her body. It was the kind of pain you could push past and ignore, right up until the moment someone hugged you a little too tight or you brushed up against a wall in the exact wrong way.

To Safiyah’s credit, she was doing her best to stifle the pain and keep it bottled up - for such a delicate-looking woman, she was tough. That just made Morrigan all the more determined to crack her. She was putting up a hell of a fight, even as her ribs were reduced to kindling.

”What’s wrong, love?” A husky whisper came out as Safiyah crawled up her body, looking to ease the pressure. ”Having a little trouble with-”

Knees. Stiff, unrelenting knees, ramming hard into her side. Safiyah might not have been the strongest, but she had a vicious streak about her, and the women did not like being held down. It was Morrigan’s turn to endure, now, and she did as best she could without the ability to defend herself. Even she had limits, though, and she reached them when the woman sank her own fangs into her neck, paying her back in kind.

Despite Morrigan’s best efforts, it was having an effect, with each strike taking a chunk of her strength. Soon, her crushing hug was reduced to nothing but a mild embrace, and the mighty Irishwoman began to melt under the Egyptian’s assault, to the point where she could nothing but slump against the cross.

[Lightman]

The pressure on Safiyah’s ribs was brutal, each squeeze digging into bruises that were already screaming from earlier impacts. Her breath came shallow, her chest resisting the rhythm she forced upon it. She gave nothing away on her face, but the pain was there, threaded through every movement, demanding to be acknowledged. Morrigan’s whisper, thick with mockery, skimmed across her ear like smoke. Safiyah answered not with words but with action.

Her knees pistoned upward, sharp and precise, punishing the giant’s side with cruel repetition. Every impact jarred bone against flesh, forcing space between them, making the bearhug falter. Morrigan’s body tensed under the assault, and Safiyah seized the opening with cold efficiency. Her lips peeled back in silence, then sank into the thick muscle of Morrigan’s neck, biting hard, her teeth scoring a mark that echoed the pain she had been given.

The hug slackened, the crushing hold wilting to a half-embrace. Safiyah’s lungs filled deeper, each breath feeding her next move. She shifted her weight, planting her bare feet firmly against the floor before kicking upward, a sudden surge of lithe strength. Her legs coiled around Morrigan’s head, thighs closing like steel cords. Smooth, lean muscles flexed tight, trapping the Irishwoman’s neck between them.

Safiyah leaned back against the cross, using it as an anchor, her thighs cinching closer, her ankles locking behind Morrigan’s shoulders. The scissor would be merciless, veins rising against the pale skin of her legs as she poured every ounce of control into the choke. The faint tremor of her body betrayed the ache in her ribs, but her voice cut through it, low and sharp.

“Silence.”

Her eyes never left Morrigan’s face, cold, focused, watching as her thighs pressed in tighter, unrelenting, made for closing throats and crushing breath.

[BlackAkuma]

In a bar, this fight would be going a wildly different way. Even in her relatively short time on Earth, Morrigan had been in more brawls than she cared to count, had slugged it out with some of the meanest bastards and bitches you could hope to find, and she’d come out on top far more times than she’d come out on the bottom. On paper, she should’ve been able to crush Safiyah.

But this wasn’t the bar. This wasn’t a brawl. This was something more dangerous, more complicated, more strategic, and Safiyah was excelling in it.

Morrigan was already withering, losing energy fast as those knees crashed into her sides, punishing her with every blow. The pain wasn’t the only problem, either, with each shot making it harder for her to take in air, practically smothering her under the assault, and it wasn’t about to get any better.

The woman scurried up her body with astonishing speed and wrapped those thighs - thin, toned, strong - around Morrigan’s thick throat. She let out a gasp before the clamp came down, and this unrelenting, steel vice crushed her neck like a noose.

It was a perfect seal, and it didn't take long to have an effect on Morrigan. She began to fade, bit by bit, her vision dimming as she looked into Safiyah’s cold, unfeeling eyes. Her spasms turned to twitches turned to nothing, and those eyes quickly closed altogether, leaving her to slump against the cross, barely held upright by her bonds.

[Lightman]

Safiyah felt the giant’s resistance shudder, then falter beneath her legs. The scissor did its work cleanly, veins in her thighs standing taut as she crushed the breath from Morrigan’s throat. She kept her eyes fixed on the woman’s face, watching the fight dim behind her gaze until the last flickers were swallowed. When this brute sagged, body slack against the cross, Safiyah finally uncoiled her grip.

Her bare feet touched stone once more, her chest rising and falling as she allowed herself the smallest pause. One arm was already secured, the rope biting tight into Morrigan’s wrist. That alone kept her upright, her weight sagging into the restraint. Safiyah’s hand brushed briefly across her ribs, feeling the ache, but she did not linger. She crouched low, reaching out for another coil of nylon, fingers steady as she measured its length.

She moved with purpose, circling back to the cross. The rope was looped firm about Morrigan’s free wrist, her motions economical, each knot precise. Safiyah slipped the line over the timber beam, then leaned back, pulling hard, her lithe frame straining to haul the larger body upward. She used the leverage of her stance and the fixed frame to compensate for the disparity in size, dragging Morrigan’s arm into position.

The sound of rope sliding against wood began to fill the chamber, punctuated by Safiyah’s grunts of effort. When she had the limb raised, she’d work to cinch the knot tight, securing the second arm against the spread of the cross. Not that it’s an easy feat hoisting such a gargantuan body that is more than her size.