L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

It would surprise no one to learn that Muriel was something of a neat freak - though she would never use that word to describe herself. She took pride in keeping her world in an orderly fashion, and that could be seen in the trappings of her apartment, down to the last detail. The floor were always immaculate, vacuumed every other days, and her packed bookshelves were dusted even more often. Her kitchen floor was cleaned to a reflective shine, and her table, a round and wooden affair, was perfectly varnished and shining. Her couch, her television, her rugs, everything the eye could see was checked and doubled for the tiniest hint of grime

The coat rack by the door, with her jackets organized from smallest to longest. Her bathroom, with its accessories, is arranged in order of importance from most to least. Her kitchen was a monument to culinary cultivation, with a bevy of herbs and spices all alphabetized, a refrigerator replete with foods ordered by type and weight, utensils neatly and aligned and readily available.

A place for everything, and everything in its place. As all things should be.

This was the natural state of Muriel’s apartment, but she took extra care whenever she had company, which she rarely did. Back when she was with Rumble Roses, she would have her friends come over all the time, some of them even spending the night - not in a romantic sense, mind you. Aigle had come by often, and there was a short time when she and the woman were practically roommates. A short, wild, irritating time, if she were honest.

But those times were gone, with the Roses scattered to the wind like so many petals, and while she had strove to keep her space clean since then, she would be lying if she said she missed having a good reason to.

That was part of the reason that she put out an ad for her tutoring services within the LAW community, hoping that she might finally have some company. The other part was that it had been long since the world’s greatest wrestling teacher had taught anyone, far too long. While she enjoyed wrestling and wasn’t about to return to education full-time, she would be lying if she said she didn’t have a certain itch that needed scratching. While her specialty had in been in world history and not language, she was fluent in Japanese, well enough that she could at least teach the basics to someone new to the country. It was knowledge that she was eager to pass on.

Thankfully, her call into the wild hadn't gone unheeded, and on this lovely evening, she would be entertaining a willing mind. With everything perfectly laid out, Muriel stood with a bevy of history books on her kitchen table, ready to be absorbed and discussed. Now, all she needed was her willing student for the evening…

Let the lesson begin...

Leila couldn't believe she was doing this. This was the absolute last thing she wanted to do on her night off, yet here she was anyway, standing in front of the door to the apartment of the woman who was supposed to tutor her in Japanese. "This is some bullshit," she muttered to herself.

Leila had been a part of LAW for several months now, taking names and kicking ass, both inside and outside of the ring. The thicc beauty was beating up as many of these so-called 'wrestlers' as she could, often in painful and humiliating fashion, and almost always by knockout! Whether she was squeezing them out between her luscious thighs, smothering them out under her bountiful booty or simply delivering that perfect KO punch, she made sure the last thing they heard was her telling them how much they sucked.

The problem with that was she could only do that part in English.

Despite having been in Japan for several months now, Leila had made no effort to learn the language. She knew just enough to get by, which was handy when she needed to hail a cab or order a drink or call someone a bitch. But the more complicated stuff? Well, she just couldn't be bothered with that. However, the LAW administration had 'encouraged' Leila to seek out the services of someone who could actually teach her some proper Japanese. They had said it was so she could have a better grasp of the local culture and customs, but really, it was just so she would stop getting into fights that stemmed from misunderstandings.

Begrudgingly, Leila had agreed to their terms and set about finding a teacher. It turned out she didn't even need to look very far. Within the LAW community, a wrestler on the LAW roster was offering Japanese lessons to whomever was interested. As much as Leila loathed the thought of returning to school again and paring up with some old nerd to learn another language, she was left with little choice.

And that's how Leila found herself here, standing outside the apartment of one the one to tutor her. The gal was dressed her usual ring attire, which strongly resembled a riske' schoolgirl uniform that hugged her curves in all the right places and exposed a healthy amount of cleavage under a fishnet bra. Rolling her eyes, she knocked on the door. "Hey," she called out unenthusiastically. "It's me Leila. I texted you about the lessons? I'm looking for Muriel Spencer?"

God, even the teacher's name made her sound like she was a thousand.

And there was the knock. Right on time.

Actually, no, she was a tad late, if truth be told, but Muriel had come to accept that she was one of the precious few people left on Earth who cared about punctuality. It was easy to forgive, and she strove to do so as she went to the door, straightening her outfit. Of course, she had opted for her wrestling attire today, without the kneepads and boots. While she typically only brought these accouterments out in the ring, she figured it was fitting to don them when dealing with another wrestler, even in this context. There was always the chance the woman was a fan of Rumble Roses, and it would serve as a wonderful icebreaker, if so.

A moment to compose herself, straighten her glasses, and she opened the door with a broad smile to find…

…hm.

To be honest, Muriel could not say for sure what she was expecting. She knew vaguely of this woman, had found some small details of her online, but not enough to paint any real picture of who she would be dealing with. She could say, confidently, that she hadn't expected the woman to show up dressed like, well…Ms. Welsh. The ‘naughty schoolgirl’ look that Muriel had grown quite familiar with over the past years. A look that, were she being honest, she would admit to being quite fond of.

And Leila, to her credit, wore it fairly well, with her voluptuous form spilling out of the tight fit. She was by no means a small woman, shorter than Muriel but with a fulsome frame, and a darkier, lewder side of her found the look quite fetching, though it was altogether inappropriate for the task at hand. She stared for a moment, her gaze running the gamut from surprised to aroused to aggravated, before she found her manners and straightened up with a stammer. ”Ms. Johnson!” She cleared her throat. ”Yes, indeed, I’m Muriel Spencer. By all means, call me Muriel.”

She stepped aside and ushered the woman into her humble abode. ”Come inside, please, and make yourself at home. We can begin shortly.”

Huh......Not exactly what Leila had been expecting if she was being honest.

With a name like 'Muriel Spencer', Leila had been expecting her tutor to be one of those old lady wrestlers who were still competing in the ring despite being well pass their prime. The woman who answered the door though was.......well, she was still old but slightly younger than what Leila had been anticipating. More attractive too. With those heels, that skirt and those glasses, the blonde had something of a naughty librarian vibe going for her, which Leila had to admit, she didn't hate.

This didn't make her any less annoyed by the fact she was forced to spend her evening here though. Rather than having another fun night out on the town, she was standing in this stupid hallway about to learn stupid Japanese from a woman who obviously didn't have a social life of her own. With all this negativity weighing on her, Leila was in no mood to return Muriel's friendly greeting, and instead gave the woman an unimpressed look of derision.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's just get this over with," Leila muttered, and would simply walk past Ms. Spencer and past the threshold of her front door, entering her apartment proper.

Waltzing into Muriel's home like she owned the place, Leila didn't even bother to remove her shoes. Her gaze would lazily drift around the apartment, silently judging the decor before she would simply flop herself down onto one of Muriel's chairs. "Got anything to drink in this place?" she rudely asked. "Otherwise it's gonna be hard to pretend I give a shit about any of this." Leila then would lean back in the chair and cross her legs, showing off quite a bit of her thicc, muscular thigh from underneath her short skirt in the process!

Leila’s look of thinly veiled scorn was far from unexpected, though hardly welcomed. Needless to say, Muriel had been apprised of the impetus behind these lessons, knowing that her student was less than willing, that she had been all but forced into this circumstance at knifepoint. She was hardly the first unwilling student she had ever encountered, and she relished the challenge - after all, being able to speak Japanese in this city would open up so many new doors for the woman, something Muriel could attest to from vast experience.

It would be a challenge, too—Leila seemed poised to make this experience difficult and did little to hide that intention. Muriel had only begun to open her mouth in reply when the woman brushed past and took the invitation to ‘make herself at home’ far more literally than most would’ve been inclined. Muriel looked on as the young ‘lady’ barged in and sat in one of her finest wooden chairs, plopping down so hard she made the old wood creak.

She stood, transfixed, momentarily as Leila leaned back and put her fulsome legs on display. She clearly had no qualms about showing her body off, not that her features weren’t praiseworthy. In another setting - one with a pole, blacklights, and a synthwave soundtrack booming in the background - she would’ve welcomed such a sight. Here, it was more distracting than anything else.

”Yes. Well.” Muriel covered her hand with a cough and closed the door behind them. ”If by ‘drink’ you mean ‘alcoholic beverage’, then no, I have nothing for you.” She put a little emphasis on those last two words. She did, indeed, have some wine stashed away in her cupboard, but that was for special occasions and friends, neither of which Leila qualified for. ”I do have water, apple cider, orange juice, and lactose-free milk. By all means, I’ll pour you a glass of whatever you like…”

She made her way towards the kitchen and cast a glance down at her guest. ”After you remove your shoes.” She spoke calmly and politely, though she made sure to put some edge in her voice, as well, before she placed a cheery cherry on top with a smile. ”Please.”

Leila's dismissive and frankly rude attitude towards Ms. Spencer certainly harkened back to her past treatment of teachers. Back in high school, Leila had been a menace to both the student body and the teaching staff, with no one able to reign the bully in. Many certainly tried, but Leila's total lack of respect for authority meant that they were always ignored, if not outright mocked. Those that persisted risked drawing her ire, at which point......well, let's just say it wasn't always her fellow students that ended up locked between her thighs.

In Ms. Spencer, Leila saw all the people who had attempted to 'fix' her over the years; bossy, uptight and utterly convinced she could handle the ebony beauty. That is, if she could find the time when she wasn't ogling Leila's assets. Yes, Leila had seen Muriel checking her out after she had opened her door, and even now she could track the blonde's gaze down to her crossed legs. A few of her other teachers had been like that as well, unable to resist letting their eyes wander over her sensual curves. This is just one of the ways she had ruled her school with an iron fist, and if she played her cards right, she could have a bit of fun here tonight as well.

Her demand for a drink going frustratingly unheeded, Ms. Spencer next demanded that Leila remove her shoes, something she should have done when she entered, apparently. The bully rolled her eyes and audibly groaned before she would uncross her legs and stand back up again. With deliberate thoughtlessness, she would kick off both her shoes, flinging them across the apartment in different directions, not at all caring where they landed.

Now standing there in her knee-high socks, Leila would flash Muriel a scowl. "There. Happy now?" she asked rhetorically. It was then that the curvy bully would walk right up to Muriel and get into her space. She would square up against the taller blonde, not quite close enough that they were touching, but close enough that might make Muriel uncomfortable, if not intimidated. Then again, due to the height difference, it would also give the older woman an unobstructed view down Leila's cleavage!

"Now are you gonna teach me some Japanese or do wanna waste my time more than you already have?"

Muriel had been here before, fairly often. To most, Leila would’ve been insufferable, but as brusque as she was trying to come off, she had dealt with her ilk more times than she could count, and with worse purveyors. Teaching had given her a thick skin, and pro wrestling had made that hide impenetrable. If Leila sought to goad her with these taunts, she would come up wanting.

Sure enough, Leila acquiesced to her request, though she did so in the most rude way possible, flinging her shoes across Muriel home in a haphazard manner. One landed near her television set, while the other smacked against her fish tank and shook her poor pets.

For her part, Muriel kept up her stoicism, not wanting to give Leila the satisfaction of a response. ”Ecstatic.”

She was just about to retreat into the kitchen for beverages when Leila came in with a proud stride, stepping directly into her space for what Muriel initially assumed was an effort to intimidate. If that was the goal, she would rebuff her efforts, refusing to be so easily cowed in her abode, and she stood her ground in the face of the aggression, glaring down at the younger woman.

Without thinking, however, that glare lowered, until it found Leila’s chest, pouring out of her tight top. Her eyes lingered for a moment longer than they should’ve, before Muriel broke the spell and stepped away, making a beeline for the refrigerator. ”We can begin, yes.” She reached in and brought out two water bottles. Leila hadn't asked for one, but she figured she might as well bring it out, anyway.

After finding her composure, Muriel strutted back into the main room, bottles in hand. ”So,” She softened her voice, hoping she could curb some of the mounting animosity. ”I need to understand where we’re starting from. You’ve been in Japan for how long, now? I’d have to imagine you have some small measure of the language, if only for the sake of convenience.”

When Leila was still in school, she had a lot of ways for dealing with teachers who were on her case, but intimidation was usually enough to dissuade most of them. Leila had accumulated quite a reputation back in the day and those teachers didn't think it worth their meager salaries to catch smoke from a girl who was notorious for humiliating those who crossed her.

In this case, Leila would have to hand it to Muriel; she didn't scare easy. Where most might have cowed to Leila getting in their space and glowering at them, the tall blonde stood her ground, matching Leila's gaze with an intense look of her own. It might have impressed Leila had she not caught that gaze drift downwards to the valley of her breasts. For all of Ms. Spencer's talk of politeness her wandering eye sure did like to wander. Still, it was nice to know that despite the haughty nature of her tutor, Leila was perfectly capable of rattling her.

A smug smirk would cross Leila's lips after having caught the blonde in the act, but she shuffled off before she could be called on it, heading for the refrigerator to presumably get them some drinks. "Oh, yeah. I know lots of words," Leila would answer in response to Muriel's inquiry, though her tone would be less than enthusiastic. The bully would then go on to list all the words she knew in almost perfect Japanese, though it was doubtful Ms. Spencer would approve. "(Bitch, fuck you, loser, you suck, kiss my ass....)"

Ms. Johnson was trying her best to be intimidating, and, in all fairness, was doing a passable job at it. Most teachers would have cowered and capitulated, especially in this day and age, when there is always a great fear of physical confrontation with students. Aside from the legal ramifications, Ms. Johnson was a sturdy young woman, and you could practically feel the violent intent radiating off her. Muriel had never seen her wrestle, but with a body like this, she could be quite formidable.

Then again, most teachers weren’t also pro wrestlers. Muriel had seen much and done much, and it would take a good deal more than what was brought so far to make her back down.

Thankfully,# things didn’t come to blows so readily, and she was able to break away before sparks flew. She came back with crisp, cold water bottles in hand, and sat them on the table in her common area, just as Ms. Johnson was sharing her limited knowledge of Japanese - which, of course, amounted to a string of the crassest words.

Muriel huffed, doing her best to ignore this woman’s attempts to get under her skin. (“You are an extremely unruly child.”) Her use of the language was refined and controlled, giving Ms. Johnson an idea of what she needed to aim for. (“If you keep this up, I might need to give you a spanking…”)

Muriel enjoyed a small, slight smile at her joke, then sat down and ushered Ms. Johnson to do the same across from her. ”Better than nothing, I suppose. You can at least pronounce them correctly.” She cleared her throat and brought over a beginner’s book for them to work with. ”We’ll cover the basic today and create a foundation for the future. Shall we begin?”

While it was true that Leila was trying to get a rise out of Ms. Spencer with her incredibly rude list of words she knew in Japanese, she hadn't been lying when she had said that they were all she knew. Before Leila had come to Japan she had studied (yes, actually studied) the words she would need to communicate the best swears and insults in Japanese. The bully was a major trash talker when she was putting the hurt down on someone, and if no one could understand her when she told them they sucked then how would they know how much they sucked?

After listing all the words and phrases she knew, Leila would flash a smug smirk at the statuesque blonde before her, as if to dare her to call her out. However, Ms. Spencer wouldn't take the bait, instead responding to Leila's taunts with......something in Japanese. It made the smug look drop from Leila's face when Muriel replied with words she couldn't understand. All she could say for sure was that Muriel wasn't using the insults she had just used. Still, something about the blonde's tone and smile really ticked Leila off....

The teacher than ushered for Leila to sit down across from her at what was to be their 'learning area'. It seemed like it was time for the lesson to begin. Rolling her eyes, Leila would nonetheless take the offered seat, and would flop herself down on it uncaringly much as she did the earlier chair. Her unimpressed gaze would settle on Ms. Spencer with a mocking smile accompanying it. "So what's first?"

What would proceed would likely be the most challenging attempt at teaching in Muriel Spencer's life, because that's exactly what Leila tried to make it! The ebony beauty did not even try to learn what Ms. Spencer was attempting to teach her. Most of the lesson she spent on her phone, ignoring the blonde completely. The only times she wasn't doing that was when she would make some snide or sarcastic comment. Anytime she was asked to repeat a phrase she either botched it completely or worked in a pointed insult. "We almost done here, bitch? Unlike you, some of us in this city have lives."