The Education of Desdemona Belti - Part 3: Yutani Oshima

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: Throne Match
Victory Conditions: In order to win, a wrestler must first force their opponent to orgasm, then drag them to the throne and sit on their face. POW privileges will apply until the winner leaves the room.

***

Seriously, who came up with these matches?

Because, whoever they were, Dizzy loved them.

When Dizzy stepped into the room for this After Dark match, she found herself in something that only could’ve looked more like an old samurai movie if it was in black and white. Not that Dizzy was terribly familiar with Japanese history or knew what that was supposed to look like, but she’d seen the Last Samurai, and this jived with what she remembered from the film.

An ample space with wooden floors and walls made of straw, with art on the walls depicting famous battles she’d never heard of. Several pieces of armor were placed in the corners, standing tall and imposing, and looking remarkably authentic to her untrained eyes - where the hell they’d found them, she couldn't even begin to guess.

The centerpiece was a large, gilded throne, gleaming at the far end, fit for any monarch. It was probably not made of real gold, but someone had gone to a lot of effort to make it look that way. LAW did have some deep pockets, especially when it came to anything lewd or lewd adjacent.

The only thing out of place was the large wrestling wrestling in the middle of it, looking like it had been dropped in from a time machine. That was where the bulk of the action would happen, and Dizzy couldn't wait to get started.

She slid in under the ring and popped to her feet, only to stumble a little bit as she rose, a bit awkward in this getup.

Ninja Dizzy

It was riding up her ass, and she had to take a moment to adjust it, getting it straight before she looked herself over. She didn’t dress up too often, but she figured this outfit did a good enough job giving the whole ‘sexy ninja’ look. The whole idea was that she was an invading ninja spy, sneaking her way into the home of some ancient feudal lord, here to assassinate her target and finding far more than she had bargained for. Silly stuff, but about what you’d expect from porn. Nobody was here for the plot.

It would be fun to act out, though much of that depended on her partner, whom Dizzy knew next to nothing about. She’d heard the name before, but had never laid eyes on Yutani, losing her in the shuffle of things. Not a big deal, but it made her anxious, like she was getting ready to open a present she’d never known about until just now. She didn’t know what a ‘Shoguness’ was, but it sounded like the title of a woman who took herself seriously. She was curious.

For now, she ran the ropes and warmed up, waiting for her ‘target’ to arrive.

[DropKix]

As Yutani Oshima stood in the shadowed hallway before the grand chamber, the faint flicker of lantern light playing across the polished black and gold of her attire, she allowed herself a slow, measured breath. A Throne Match. A spectacle of humiliation and conquest, draped in the trappings of sensual combat.

To a lesser mind, it might seem like mockery, an insult to her lineage, a farcical perversion of the imperial seat she deserved. But Yutani was no fool. She knew better than to rage against the oddities of modern wrestling. If this was the battlefield they laid before her, then so be it. The outcome remained the same. A throne was a throne, and only an Empress deserved to sit upon it. And besides… the thought of testing her might against a younger foe—of bending her, breaking her, and carving the lesson of true dominance into her trembling form—was a temptation she found quite irresistible.

With that thought, Yutani stepped forward.

Yutani Oshima

The shoji doors at the far end of the room slid open with effortless grace, revealing the striking silhouette of The Shoguness. Clad in a deep black and crimson open-belly leotard adorned with intricate gold embroidery, she stepped forward with the slow, deliberate stride of a woman who owned not only this space but the very concept of power itself. The gleaming Kamon on her kneepads—her family's sigil—flashed like a heraldic warning. Knee-high boots clicked against the wooden floor, her every movement a declaration of authority.

When she finally reached the edge of the ring, she placed one hand on the apron, her fingers dragging over the canvas with an almost sensual deliberation. Then, in one smooth motion, she pulled herself up and stepped between the ropes, her presence eclipsing the space in an instant. Her gaze swept over her opponent, this impudent little interloper wrapped in the garb of a would-be assassin. A ninja? A spy? How quaint. Yutani’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk, equal parts amusement and condescension. Then, she spoke.

"Ahhh… The little shadow dares to trespass in my domain." Her voice was a smooth, silken purr, rich with condescension yet laced with something darker. "A foolish girl, scurrying in the night, hoping to steal what she could never rightfully claim."

She took a single step forward, her eyes locking onto her smaller foe. "And what might your name be, little one?" She tilted her head, her smirk widening as Dizzy responded. "Take solace in this, girl… There will be no witnesses tonight to the depth of your disgrace—no one to see the precise measure of your humiliation at my hands. Fitting, considering you are nowhere near worthy to challenge Yutani Oshima, The Shoguness…" Yutani raised a single, gloved hand and traced her fingertips down her own exposed stomach, a subtle display of the sensual power she wielded as effortlessly as her strength. "...but you are just worthy enough to be conquered by me." The words barely left her lips before a chuckle followed—low, velvety, curling around the air like the caress of silk against bare skin. A sound that promised suffering. A sound that promised dominion.

[BlackAkuma]

The waiting was the hardest part. Dizzy was many things but never patient, especially when she was waiting for something that could either go very well or very poorly. She hated surprises, even when they were good ones - she was the sort of child who would try to rip enough of a Christmas present to guess what was inside. Something her mother caught her doing right up until the age where it stopped being cute.

Without a concrete picture of the Shoguness and without a phone to look her up, she was stuck creating a mental image as she waited for the woman to arrive. She wasn’t big on her Japanese history, but she’d been in the country long enough to know some basic, sufficient to recognize that Shoguns were sort of/kind of/not really equivalent to kings. Regal, high up on the food chain. So, the picture she created was of someone hoity-toity, a skinny little snob who’d look down on her. Taller than Dizzy, but then, most people were, so that was a given. Probably with a nice ass, if the stips were anything to go by.

Dizzy was in deep contemplation when the doors slid open to reveal…

”Wow.”

That whispered word summarized her feelings on the matter, and she was so glad that the reality exceeded her expectations. At a single glance, she could tell that many of her boxes were being ticked. The woman was old, probably not too far off from her mother’s age, and like her mother, she’d kept her body in pristine condition. Tall. Thick. There was a confidence in her stance, a strength in her eyes that dominated the space and made it hers.

She looked on with barely contained lust as the woman made her way around the ring, stepped inside, and finally acknowledged her, looking down on Dizzy like a bug in desperate need of squishing. She spoke, and oh god, did she speak. The controlling, commanding tone, dripping in finery, steel sheathed in steel. Every submission bone in the Italian’s body begged her just to give in and let this woman have her way. Let herself be crushed, pinned, smothered, humiliated, broken. She wanted that ass on her face. Why fight what was not only inevitable, but desired?

Simple: It would be much more fun if she made Yutani work for it.

Dizzy gave a quick, playful bow, a dainty mockery of the real thing, as she looked up with a cocky smile. ”Desdemona Belti, Yutani-dono.” From what she remembered, that honorific could either show respect or crack at someone’s age, depending on how it came out. Her Cheshire grin was a good hint for which one her character was going for.

”You do cut an impressive figure, I’ll give you that. For once, the stories speak true.” Dizzy leaned for side to side, admiring her at different angles and nodding her approval. ”But that strength means nothing if you don’t know how to use it - you’ve laid on one too many soft beds. Time and luxury have weakened those old bones of yours. Now, I’ll be breaking them.”

Suitably anime-ish. Thank you, Crunchyroll.

A gong ran out over the speakers, which Dizzy took as this match’s equivalent of a starting bell. She dropped into her stance and began to circle the imposing woman, slipping into the traditional pose her mother had taught her. She closed in but took care not to get too close, only occasionally darting in with a feint to test Yutani’s response, wanting to see if she could bait the bigger woman into trying something hasty.

[DropKix]

The smirk on Yutani’s lips only widened as Dizzy prowled around her, slinking with the cocky arrogance of a mischief-maker who had yet to feel the sting of real consequence. The girl’s words—cheap, predictable barbs aimed at her age—were an amusing little act of defiance.

“You think time has softened me?” Yutani’s voice spilled forth like warmed honey over steel, luxuriant yet unyielding. “No, little Desdemona. Time has made me exquisite. It has honed me, tempered me—sharpened me into something capable of breaking you in ways you do not yet understand.”

Yutani slowly began to match her opponent's movements, crouching down and mirroring the young wrestler in a classic grappler stance. She remained vigilant, watching, measuring, golden eyes trailing Dizzy’s every movement with the cool patience of a hunter indulging a particularly eager prey. Dizzy feinted, darting in with a flicker of motion, testing the waters, hoping to draw her in.

Yutani did not bite.

“But you will understand,” she continued, her tone languid, cruel in its certainty. “You will come to know that against true power, there is no struggle—only surrender. So I wonder… will you be pleading for mercy, or whimpering for more?” She exhaled, just enough to let the words crawl against Dizzy’s skin, a whisper of the suffocating dominance that awaited her. “How much resolve lies within a pathetic little thing like you, hmm?”

Dizzy lunged again, another feint, another test—but this time, Yutani moved.

With a sudden, devastating burst, she surged forward, her frame a force to reckon with as she swung out her arm in a brutal lariat aimed at Dizzy’s chest! Should the smaller woman be caught in its path, the sheer force would rip her from her footing, hurling her to the canvas in an unforgiving collision.

[BlackAkuma]

Yutani reminded Dizzy of someone, though it had been hard to put her finger on at first. Now that they were circling each other and she was getting a sense for this woman’s vibe, though, it was coming into stark relief and the veil was lifting. The way she carried herself, head held high and proud. The strong, formidable form. That aura of dominating control, those focused eyes, that tone that didn’t broach a single word of defiance.

Her mother. It was like she was fighting her mother.

There were some differences, of course. First and foremost, her mother wouldn’t be caught dead doing a match like this, so Yutani was kinkier. She was shorter than her mother by a few inches, though for a Japanesewoman she was massive, easily the tallest one she’d come across since she’d come to this island. But she had the same elder stateswoman vibe that the older Belti radiated daily. Not that it mattered, but it was always a little funny how her mother’s traits could irritate her but were hot as hell coming from anyone else. Probably a topic to bring up with a therapist someday.

For now, though, she focused. As much as she could concentrate with Yutani speaking and heating her Shwith that golden voice of hers, rife with authority. She wanted those words spoken straight into her ear, preferably at squeezing range, but she tempered her lust for the moment and kept her distance, daring her foe to make the first move. So far, though, she wasn’t biting. Wasn’t even flinching. Didn’t make a single move.

Until she did.

Also like her mother, Yutani was slow, but not quite as slow as you might think with an older woman of that size. At this range, she would’ve caught many wrestlers off guard, ones even more experienced than Dizzy. Thanks to her extensive training with two women in the heavyweight class, though, the Italian kunoichi was familiar with the way big girls operated, and could dodge a lariat on reflex, especially one that came out raw. Alicia had even taught her a good counter for it, and she’d pulled it off on her mother a couple of times.

Would it work against someone who genuinely wanted to take her head off, though? One way to find out.

Dizzy ducked under the clubbing lariat, but instead of coming out behind her, she grabbed hold of the arms as it passed by overhead and used it to monkey swing around her body. At the same time, she brought her legs up and tried to wrap them around Yutani’s opposite arm, clenching it tight between her toned legs.

Assuming that all worked out well, the next step was simple, she jerked hard and tried to use all her weight to bring Yutani down on her back, looking to smash her with a Crucifix Bomb. It would either go off like a charm or fail and get her utterly demolished by a wrathful Shoguness.

Win-win.

[DropKix]

Yutani’s arm cut through the air like the blade of an executioner—an absolute, unforgiving decree of force. But the body she sought to break was not there. The smaller woman was quick, a wisp of movement slipping beneath the arc of her lariat like smoke curling through fingers. And yet, Yutani did not falter, nor did she curse the evasion. No, she felt it, the brief contact of fingertips against her wrist, the way Dizzy’s frame coiled and twisted with feline dexterity. She felt the shift, the pull, the attempt to ensnare her within a tangle of limbs and leverage.

Dizzy had ambition, that much was clear. The brazen confidence to take hold of her—her—and coil herself around the Empress like some impudent little serpent. Yutani allowed a soft, amused sound to slip past her lips, a velvety hum vibrating from her throat, neither distressed nor startled, but entertained.

Perhaps this would be a battle worth savoring after all.

And then the weight of her opponent truly settled in, Dizzy’s toned thighs locking around her arm, her body angling to wrench the towering woman down. The smaller woman’s thighs clamped tight around her arm, twisting her from the regal control she had commanded only moments before. The weight shifted, the pressure pulled, and though Yutani fought to stabilize herself, her boots scraping against the mat in defiance.

Gravity did not negotiate.

A sharp crack resounded through the air as Yutani’s broad back met the canvas, the impact rippling through her powerful frame. Dizzy had done it. The little wrestler had stolen the opening moment, had ripped the towering Shoguness from her pedestal and sent her crashing to the earth. The world swayed for the briefest of instants. A lesser woman might have groaned, might have recoiled from the shock—but Yutani Oshima was no lesser woman.

With both wrestlers on the mat, Yutani knew she had to act quick if she wanted to reseize the moment. And so she rolled over, lunging at her foe and hoping to wrap her arms around her waist before Dizzy had a chance to get back to her feet. Whether she would catch the agile assassin in time remained to be seen, but If she was successful, her powerful arms would hoist the smaller woman off the canvas, forcing both of them to their feet in one sharp motion. Yutani constricted her arms, squeezing the lightweight body of her opponent before finally lurching backwards, using her overwhelming strength to throw Dizzy’s body into the air, aiming to send her flying with a brutal release suplex!

[BlackAkuma]

Oh, Dizzy heard that little noise Yutani made. It was small, faint, and if they’d been in a packed arena with a cheering crowd, it would’ve gotten drowned out. But here, in this room, every little sound was magnified a dozen times. The little hum, small as it was, came through loud and clear, bringing a wicked grin to Dizzy’s face. She’d only known Yutani for two minutes, tops, but the idea of impressing someone like this already appealed.

Dizzy was amusing her. And she planned to keep on amusing her.

She was off to a good start, too. Her gambit could’ve blown up in her face, and there was no way she’d try the same trick again even if she had an opening, but it worked like a charm this time. Putting a woman like this on her back would’ve been hard for anyone, let alone someone in her weight range, but she pulled it off with aplomb, dropping the bigger woman with a mighty crash. It was still early in the match, but a hit like that would put Yutani down for a few seconds, more than enough time for Dizzy to stand up, gather her wits, and…

…get caught by two of the strongest arms she’d ever encountered. Yikes.

No, she was not expecting Yutani to be back up so fast, as the surprising squeak that flew from her mouth likely showed. Dizzy moaned, both from pain and pleasure, as those arms gave her a tight squeeze, but she knew that wasn’t the real threat, here. Her training kicked in once, telling her what was coming next: the shifting weight, bracing feet, and tensing body. She was about to get German Suplexed.

Training kicked in again, without even thinking. Instead of fighting the move, she aided it, pushed off the mat with her feet as Yutani sent her flying, giving the move some added oomph. It was just enough for her to overrotate in mid-air, allowing her to come down on her feet instead of her back - well, one foot and one knee, she messed up the landing. Still better than the alternative.

Seeing her chance, she rushed forward and leaped, trying to throw herself on Yutani’s back before the woman could turn around and realize what had happened. Her arms wrapped around the older woman’s neck and her legs slid around her waist, clamping on tight and sticking to her like a limpet.

And since this all brought them so close, she might as well make the most of it and plant a few teasing kicks and licks on that sweet neck of Yutani’s. ”Having a little trouble, Shoguness?” Her tongue found its way to the woman’s ear and worked its way around the edge, leaving a thin line of saliva in her wake.

[DropKix]

Yutani had barely planted her boots when she felt it. The telltale shift in weight, the absence of impact where there should have been flesh meeting canvas. Dizzy was not where she ought to be. How rare it was for someone to slip free of her grasp, to dance beyond the fate she dictated. But the sensation was fleeting, because before she could fully turn, the lithe wrestler had already returned, clinging.

Limbs slithered around her body, wrapping tight, a warm press of flesh locking against her own. Dizzy's arms coiled around her throat, her legs cinching around her waist. A limpet, a leech—no, an audacious little succubus who latched on with no intention of letting go. Yutani’s breath caught in her throat, constricted by the firm arms of her younger foe. The feel of Dizzy’s body against hers was a study in contrasts—petite, yet strong, soft in all the places that made her touch a tease, yet firm enough to be a threat. But it was the lips, the tongue, the brazen heat that sent the first ripple through the Shoguness’s poised exterior. A thin, wet line traced its way along the shell of her ear, slow, deliberate, a sensual teasing wrapped in mockery.

A slow, indulgent smirk curled at the corner of Yutani’s lips. The little imp thought to slither into her space, to tempt her, to make her body react before her mind could rein it in. How precious. How daring. How easily it would be to remind her—sensuality was a double-edged sword. And Yutani Oshima never let a blade be turned against her without taking it in hand.

“Oh, my dear…” Yutani purred, tilting her head ever so slightly, just enough for the barest graze of her own lips to hover by Dizzy’s cheek, so close, close enough that she could feel the heat, the breath, the promise of touch that never quite came. A torment of anticipation. “I do love when they try.”

And then she moved.

Her body surged forward, driving toward the nearest turnbuckle. If Dizzy wished to cling so desperately, so shamelessly, then she would learn what it meant to embrace The Shoguness. Yutani twisted at the last moment, her back colliding against the corner with enough force to rattle the steel behind it. A violent collision, a wicked crush, attempting to sandwich Dizzy between her and the unyielding post!

[BlackAkuma]

Dizzy’s arms wrapped tight around Yutani’s body, her legs encircled her waist, and she locked in for a good squeeze - for whatever good it would do her. She wasn’t a submission master, but she had been on the receiving end of moves like this enough to know when they were having an effect and when they were just an annoyance, and it felt like this was the latter for her opponent. The woman had a thick, strong neck and a powerful core, neither of which would give no matter how much power she brought to bear. She would never get Yutani to tap like this in a million years.

So it was good, then, that she didn’t need a tap out. Sensuality was the key, here, so she just needed to get Yutani close and keep her close while she worked her magic. Her lips went wild, finding all the usual paths, as she started the process of driving her opponent wild. Hentai matches were like Chess: The earlier you began working towards your victory, the better.

It had some effect, too. The purring was a good sign - god, this woman had a heavenly voice. She turned her head as Yutani did the same, their lips drawing near, inches away from a kiss, so close…

…Yutani was moving.

It took Dizzy a second to register through her sexual funk, and by then, it was far too late. She was a freight train with no breaks, and it only came to a stop when her foe spun around and smashed her into the ringpost, flattening her between her body and the pads. Dizzy’s back arched, and she let out a sound that was ecstatic and erratic in equal parts, as all that flesh spread over her body. Her legs weakened, and her hold on Yutani’s neck loosened, her arms falling to the side, giving up on that hold.

But she found another. Those same arms slithered under Yutan’s shoulders and made their way to her chest, as her hands filled themselves with the Shoguness’ flesh. One found a lovely ripe breast to grip on to and fondle, while the other ran along those abs that the woman was so clearly proud of, welcoming them with soft strokes and working her way downard. She was still hurting after that hit, didn’t have the energy for anything truly offensive, but that wouldn’t stop her from enjoying this position.

”Mmm, good one. Nice.” She rested her head on Yutani’s shoulder while her hips thrust forward, grinding against her opponent’s backside. ”But you’ll need to hit even harder to slow me down, Yutani-dono.”