"Highs and Lows" - Naya Kazashi vs Angelina Tarrant - Hentai Submission Match

[BuckleBuster]

Match Type: Hentai Submission
Victory Conditions: Force your opponent to submit during a sexual move or directly following an orgasm

It had been several weeks since Naya had made quite the splash in her debut match, and yet she still couldn't shake off the exhilarating high she had received from that night. Her face had practically been fixed into a smile 24/7, a wave of confidence defining every single waking moment of her life in a way that she had never felt before. All those years of practicing, training, and grinding had culminated into that one moment, and it paid off in a big way. And now with her foot solidly in the door, it felt like nothing could get between her and the stardom she seemed destined for, least of all the match she was heading into tonight.

When she had gotten the call asking her to participate in a hentai submission match, Naya had accepted before the even organizer could even finish his sentence. It was exactly the kind of match she had spent years perfecting back when she used to participate in the clandestine erotic wrestling events that took place on the beaches of her hometown. She was unrivaled in those days, and she saw tonight as being no different. She hadn't even bothered to do the pre-match research of her opponent. What was the point? this was her domain, this was her specialty, and no matter who her opponent was tonight, she was about to be her plaything.

A fist loudly rasping on the locker room door alerted her to the fact that it was almost her time to shine. She quickly straightened out her hair bow in the mirror, giving herself a wink before making her way out to the gorilla position. A warm and confident smile radiated outwards as she greeted the various stagehands that passed by. One with a clipboard waved her through the entrance curtain, her theme playing loudly through the arena speakers as they accompanied her descent down the entrance ramp. She waved her hands to the cheering crowd, a noticeably elevated sense of excitement evident in the arena noise. She stopped for a few seconds to appreciate some of the new fans she had managed to pick up since her debut, thanking them by twirling on the spot as she proudly displayed her curves and features for the cameras.

Entrance Theme

Naya 'The Wave' Kazashi

Naya skipped happily towards the ring , taking a moment to take off her jacket and hand it to a lucky fan behind the barriers, revealing here tight fitting leotard underneath. Her bare feet hastily ascended the cold metal steps before finding their way onto the smooth canvas of the ring. She slipped between the middle ropes, doing a single lap around the ring while waving to nearby fans as she prepared to conclude her ecstatic entrance with a few choice words. She greeted the referee with a respectful bow before motioning to be given a microphone.

"Whatsup everybody! It's 'The Wave' here! Now now, I know what you're thinking, what's this rookie doing on the mic?" A hush of silence made it's way over the crowd as Naya took ahold of the microphone. Sensing she had captivated the audience, she walked slowly over to the side of the ring and casually rested her foot on the bottom rope, exuding a level of confidence no fresh face like herself ought to have.

Well I'm here to tell y'all, that after tonight, I'll be officially shedding that label for good! That's right, some of you saw how I fought in my debut, but none of you have yet witnessed how I love, and oh boy are you all in for a treat!" soft murmurs echoed over the arena as the crowd listened, shocked that Naya was presenting herself so boldly before having even met her opponent!

"That's right, lemme hear some noise for the greatest upstart to ever, and I mean ever enter the hentai scene... me!" Naya proclaimed, her daring declaration met with roaring cheers as she handed the mic back to the referee before making her way to her corner.

She leaned her back on the turnbuckles as she draped her arms over the top ropes, pondering with an ear-to-ear grin over what she had just done. That spectacle would have been seen as reckless if it was performed by a hentai veteran, much less a girl who was only going into her second match and first hentai bout in the league. Naya was fully aware of the implications, and took it in stride anyways. She knew herself and what she was capable of, and her solid foundation in hentai before her time in LAW meant that she deserved to be labeled as a viable hentai contender by every metric!... at least in her mind anyways.

I got the hype, now I just got to deliver Naya mentally noted as she surveyed the excited audience, satisfied with the reception she had managed to stir up. As calm and measured as she tried to appear, their was no hiding the visible bounce in her leg as nervousness got the better of her. Maybe it would have been best to save her little spiel after her opponent had revealed herself. Maybe she shouldn't even have... ah! Who was she kidding, this was her time to shine! Naya stared at the entrance curtain from which her opponent would be emerging from just moments from now, eager to see if her reveal would be enough to quell the uncertainties that were floating around in the back of her mind.

[Monsy]

A phone video flicks on and starts to record. It shows a red-haired woman leaning back in a steel chair, and she was wearing a tight-fitting black bathrobe, smiling and sticking up her index and middle into the shot.

“Yo, me again.” The fingers dropped. “Still here in the back, readying up like the youzh. Similar match-muffin as last time, but I learned a hell of a lot. So now you may ask, where are your daddy-issue drabs? Well, you little shits, I learned that hesitation is like a bad pill. You can’t be ODing on that shit, nah, you gotta stuff it. My debut was an experience. Couldn’t fuckin’ tell yah about this girl, you’d need to witness it. Anyone who wants to know, they can find that shit on some porn-whatever. I don’t care. I went out and showed I ain’t going to be backing down. And I ain’t tonight, so you all better watch as A.T runs a train on this bitch.”

The bottom pegs slipped out as Angelina’s hands cloaked the shot, slamming on her back. “FUCK.” The video ends, and she groans; the wind robbed from her sails and left dizzied. “Guhhhh… This better not be a bad omen. I like poker as much as the next fun lady, but.. Nnggghhh.” She threw her weight onto her side, and her legs clapped together, then rolled over again onto her stomach. Velvet hair swallowed her face, and only revived a portion by blowing sharply. “A little certainty every now and again would be cool, yah know? Like hot water for showers.”

She stood and walked across the room. It was a bathroom with the video’s backdrop being a white wall, hidden from the stalls and mirrors. After stopping at one sink, she looked and gazed at herself, turning her cheek one way, then the other, practicing her menacing look and growl. She took her two index fingers and hooked the inside of her mouth, then pulled it apart and stuck out her tongue. “Bleeeegggghhhhhhhhh!”

Then let go. She looked down at the sink and turned on the tap, pulling the tab to let it pool. She started staring at herself and got progressively more red in her cheeks. Her hand cracked off her cheek. “No, you’re over that.” She nursed the mini-fire she started, “Ok.. not smart. Not smart.” That same hand dipped into her robe pocket and pulled out a small vile filled with plastic capsules. The label was scratched out, and she put one in her hand. “Weird what you can get around here. I didn’t even know this little puppy existed until now. Ah, well…” She stuck it beneath her tongue. “Popsy time. I’m thinkin’ blueberry…”

After returning to the locker room and grabbing her skateboard, she’d jump on and cruise down the halls in search of this fruity-sugar treat, then to the ring she went.

Spoiler

Spoiler

The sequel to The Marauder’s debut was about to begin.
A moshpit of electric guitar and drums roared into the arena. The audience livened a reserved voice for the recently-introduced A.T. Her skateboard wheels revved onto the scene, with Angelina in tow, pushing across the stage before power sliding to a stop before the ramp’s lip. With one match, she seemed to turn wheat into bread, her attire, once a punk-ish collection of accessories, coloured denim and cropped clothing, now but a black two-piece. The skin-tight cups had gold rings on the top, strapped and connected across by a black strip, then two other straps led up and over to the back, just underneath her studded over. She had black and white armbands on her lithe arms and dainty-groomed fingers plucked through fingerless gloves with an open window on the back, and the other was bare. High-cut black briefs for bottoms, almost panties, with a belt across her hour-glass shape and just underneath her smooth-glistening belly. One had had a garter belt strapped to a thigh band and donning red lace-up sneakers. The crowd cheered her more, now.

“I gawt yer a-ten-shon now, huh? Forking lursers.” Her head shook, her voice shaped around a blueberry popsicle centred deep in her mouth. Two hands, thrown up in defeat, sighed. She leaned forward a bit to reach back and pull back her underwear’s material, then let it slap over her bubble-butt for a jiggle. Her eyes roll. The velvet mane covered most of the view, but some could see it, if only enough for a glimpse of that milk-smooth skin. She craned her head towards the ceiling, raising her hand for the heavens, then folding it back, grabbing the stick, then stopping. Her smile perked, but then she looked ring-bound, turning the nose of the board forward by leaning on the tail and riding down the ramp. Both knees bent, and she serpentined before taking a sharp right, lowering her hips further until she jumped, slamming her back foot on the tail, tilting her front foot and dragging it up the board until it caught on the nose and the board balanced out. The trucks ground against the top steel ridge, riding off to clack back down at ringside and pushing. Her hand grabbed the post, whipped around the next corner, and readied another ollie. The back wheels touched down and rolled across like a manny pad this time. Her arms came out, and she tilted for balance, but she bailed to hop onto the apron, the skateboard now tumbling to ringside.

Her back leaned into the ropes, hooking the top with both arms and around in front, presenting her pinky, index and thumb before she jumped, her shoulders as the fulcrum to flip and land square inside, now stumbling back a few steps. She stopped near the ring’s centre and granted her opponent a side profile as she inched her hips back a bit and looked to the ceiling again, raising that arm straight up, folding it down and grabbing the stick to pull the popsicle out slowly. Its blue melt lathered over her lips and dripped at the corners of her chin. Her mouth stayed ajar just a tad, and her tongue lulled on the bottom before making a swipe across both drenched brims. A deep breath soothed out, and both cheeks warmed up as she cast a side glance to her opponent, then turned towards the referee and shoved the wet stick into their front pocket pouch. “You look like a trash bin. Here.”

Now, her opponent had her full attention—first, the legs. Then the hips, sides, chest, collar, hands, neck, the lips, top and bottom, cheeks and lastly, the eyes. There was a hunger there. Each pass seemed to have its own dedicated second, enough to gobble them by a stare. “I hope you liked the show, because I’am about to make you my fucking encore, girl, you ready for that? I dressed up just for you, so take all the looks you damn well want, mmk?”

[BuckleBuster]

Slowly, Naya's heavy metal theme began to fade into silence, before being replaced by the anthem of her opponent. A crescendo of rock music blared from the speakers, announced the arrival of their benefactor as a woman made her way to the top of the ramp, skateboard in hand and popsicle in mouth. Naya's eyes widened as she made a furious descent down the ramp, not on her own two feet but rather on the deck of her skateboard. Naya's neck twisted and turned as she struggled to keep up with the girl, watching as she used the metal posts as pivots to whip around corners.

Just as Naya thought she had a solid lock on the girl, she had already flung herself into the ring with a perfectly timed jump, leaving her skateboard to wander aimlessly into the barriers. She watched the blatant disrespect the girl exuded as she stuffed her popsicle into the pocket of the referee before turning her attention to Naya. Any uncertainties she had about this girl were immediately resolved as soon as she opened her mouth, causing the young surfer to scoff and turn her head dismissively, undeterred by her words. She slowly walked to the center of the ring to meet her opponent, taking the moment to judge her with every step: A narcistic punk, hoping to make up in theatrics and trash talking what she lacked in actual skill. Yeah that's it. Although she seemed more... unhinged than other girls who usually fit that bill.

As for physique, well there was nothing there that she couldn't handle. Naya had the height and weight advantage on her side by the looks of things, although the gap wasn't big enough to have any significant impact. Her attention shifted towards the girl's aesthetics instead, noting that she had still managed to retain her oddly attractive punkish style in her tight fitting two piece. She crossed her arms as she stood face to face with her opponent, her gaze making a slow trail down along the woman's body as she sized her up from head to toe. Behind the rough and crazed exterior, their was wealth of beauty to explore and fun to be had. All she had to do was tame this wild brat before transforming her into the docile creature she knew lay dormant in the hear of every woman, a feat she had accomplished before in her debut and simply needed to replicate here once again.

"loved it actually, quite impressive what you can do with that board" Naya responded halfheartedly, tilting her head in the direction of the now discarded skateboard. She took a step forward, placing her face a few inches from the girl, forcefully locking their eyes to one another

"But it's nothing compared to show that I'm gonna be putting on tonight, and babe, I'm gonna make you my star!" Naya said with a smile, backing away slightly as she finished. Her brief stare-down with Angelina had revealed more than she had expected. Purple irises, perfectly stationary yet darting madly into her soul with a type of craving that Naya had seldom seen in another person. There was no seeing through them, no revelations about her deeper purpose or being. Only unpredictable desire, the type that didn't make it's intentions clear until it was already too late. That alone was more intimidating than any insult the red-head could hurl at her, but Naya refused to let her worriedness show. Instead she masked it behind a tight lipped grin, taking another step back as she aimed to create some distance between the two in preparation for the opening of the fight. Savagery was brazen in those eyes, and she didn't want to be near her opponent when it struck.

Her arms were outstretched in front of her, palms now open and at the ready as she crouched into a grappling stance. She licked her lips, noticing how dry the rest of her mouth felt. No worries, pretty soon she'd be moistening them with the juices of her opponent. An amusing smile snuck up on her at the thought, only to be interrupted by the sound of the opening bell.

Ding!-Ding!-Ding!

[Monsy]

Something about the pre-match.

The sizing up, posturing and scuffle of wit or greetings. Angelina lived for this feeling. Each lay down their bets and allowed the competition to decide just whose words would be fulfilled. There wasn’t a reason to coil it back. If you didn’t talk the talk, why bother? If your opponent doesn’t get in hell, then are you even worth the time? No. It always made Angelina feel this inner sense of dread as they neared. Danger could liquefy, and Angelina was ready to chug it all down, stand her ground, stomp one foot forward and cross her arms, so one shoulder pointed at them. There was to be no sense of fear. Her gaze turned up, intent, hungry, and her shit-eating smile when they appreciated her ability. It was nice to hear a compliment now and again, but she felt something more was coming. And how beautiful it was to know what they’d intend to do, Angelina’s heart could pitter-patter like it wanted to jump out. The bounty to make this leotard-wearing goddess of a woman babble and choke on Angelina’s flavour grew ten-fold. “Oh yeah? It’s so on, girl!” She brandished teeth with her grin and tightened her fists, raised their shoulder height, and slashed them down to her sides. “I am fuckin’ pumped now! Hahaha!” Chuckles slithered out as she bounced foot-to-foot, taking on this light nod to each hop as she cocked her hands shoulder-height and bent her knees slightly.

The bell’s ring was like the gate that released the bull. Angelina dashed forward, taking three loud lunges, then popping off the ground to slice through the air. Her white-knuckled fist cocked back like a bolt-action rifle, then shot, poised to land square on their forehead. This may be a hentai match… But she couldn’t help it. The competition overtook everything in her body, mind and soul.

[BuckleBuster]

The opening bell may as well have been a trigger. Before it's echo had even died down, Angelina had already launched herself forwards like a speeding bullet. Had the girl's demeanor been any different during the pre-match, Naya may have very well been caught by surprise. But it didn't take a genius to see the overzealous urge to fight radiating from Angelina from the very moment she stepped foot in the ring. The manic twitch in her eyes, the hyperactive sway of her body, and of course the all too telling frenzied laughter of a woman who seemed to be enjoying this a little too much. All hinted towards an explosive start, and Naya was ready for it. If Angelina was going to charge at her like a raging bull, then Naya would just have to be the matador.

Each footfall of her opponent signaled power and precision, each lunge traversing far distances in order to quickly closed the gap between the two. Naya waited until her opponent was halfway between her second and third lunge before starting to reposition herself, biding her time in order to ensure that her opponent was committed to the attack and unable to bail. An attack at that speed and in that pose couldn't simply be blocked, no, Naya needed to quickly find a way to reverse it and use her own momentum against her.

It wasn't until Angelina arm shot out into a fist that Naya deduced the rest of her attack. Her hips pivoted 90 degrees, her torso leaning back just in time to witness the tips of Angelina's knuckles swing by where her face had just been. Grasping onto her opponent's now outstretched arm, the rest of Naya's body quickly followed suit, spinning around and under to place her back against Angelina chest in an attempt to throw her to the canvas with an over-the-shoulder arm drag!

[Monsy]

Forward was the only direction she understood. All these back steps and unnecessary thought muddied what she needed; to live in this moment. The drug of burning, bruising and even breaking her knuckles on this punch was driving her eyes bloodshot. She’d give it all. Everything was genuine. Each knuckle wouldn’t pull back; and her mind culled its warm to thrust her arm right to them. But that was a mistake. It took only a nano-second for clarity. The grip of her arm, how her lithe tummy morphed over their shoulder as the fulcrum for her body to twist. Breathless. Her shoes whipped over her head; Angelina’s smile contorted into an O-shaped gasp. Reality clicked its sound heels as the lights glared in her eyes and her spine spanked the canvas. An eye closed as dizziness racked a head-rush.〝Guh!〞Breath shot from her mouth like a cannon and her guts felt like they compressed. She rebounded into a sitting up posture, one arm across her lower back and the other presumably held by Naya.〝Good shit, but I can do better.〞Stated with a genuine and giddy tone.

Angelina threw herself back, stacked her shoulders, tucked her knees and thrust both boots for their chest. Right off the beginning was not a time to be trapped. Nor a time to hesitate. Until they earned her vulnerability, no, took it, then they’d see this bull run wild til’ its horns are ground to a stump.

[BuckleBuster]

It was oddly strange hearing a compliment from her opponent. It was hard to decipher what she meant behind that frivolous voice and dancing eyes, but Naya detected a hint of sincerity. Her grip was still placed firmly around her opponent's arm, her hand's placed on opposite sides of her opponent's hand in a torqueing position that signaled a painful wristlock was imminent. Instead a dash of hesitation, a stationary moment of rectitude as Naya opened her mouth to thank her opponent for the first hint of civility she had shown since they met.

Then it hit her. The soles of two red sneakers burying themselves deep into her chest, inertia channeling from one body to the other as Naya's grip was forced to let go in order to accompany the rest of her body as it made a backwards decent into the mat. Her body skidded across the canvas until it reached a stop, her arm reaching across her chest as it instinctually began soothing the point of impact. Her head shot upwards to display a disappointed scowl, but she only had herself to blame. A lapse in judgment had cost her the advantage, but she still had plenty of fight to give!

She scrambled to her knees, her head darting across the ring in search of the girl who had so effortlessly floored her. A slow smile creeped up on her face as she saw her, still back-first on the mat as a result of her backwards kick. Now that they were both on the mat, they had firmly entered Naya's domain of expertise, and the young rookie was intent on keep it there. She tried to hastily make it to her feet, maintaining a low crouching stance as she made a beeline for her opponent in hopes of catching her before she had fully stood up herself. Her arms formed two prongs stretched out on either side of her, shoulder tucked into a ramming position as she braced herself to spear her opponent back onto the mat!

[Monsy]

No break or quarter. She’d race ahead on this asphalt road, raising a gear until the transmission broke. The bump was but a hiccup, one knot in her spine, and replied with the sharp package of her united feet pounding into their chest and winding free. The angle shot her back down, unravelling onto the canvas to fully recover. Her head was turned away from her opponent, but the sound of canvas-shake gave some respite. She turned on one side, propped her right elbow underneath her head and stretched a hand on her back to soothe. Some wind didn’t return until she sucked in and savoured these precious seconds through wide lips. And when she was ready, she dragged her knee across the canvas, turning on her stomach and pushing off her upper-half to plant a forward foot. Scarlet hair nettled over her eyes to block a clear sight until she swiped it back, and by then, the mystery of the stampeding bangs was answered. She’d not even have time to discern her options, but to look left, then find her abdomen crinkled by Naya’s shoulder.

The impact was a thunderclap. From the nauseating twist in her stomach, her legs coiled underneath one of Naya’s arms and whipped towards the ceiling and her arms found themselves locked at her sides. 〝OOF!!〞Her shoulders crashed first, then her head and she almost rolled her entire body onto her neck. It was like being hit with a hammer and punched in the jaw. The whiplash sent her eyes spinning inside her head, even as she closed them. Her feet and hips splayed outward from Naya, with the outside arm folding up into the pool of splaying red hair above her head.

〝Ghh..〞Always the fuckin’ spears…

Bar a twitch of her finger, her head turning from one cheek to the other, rotating of feet and shallow cough, Angelina was an open canvas to be painted however Naya wished.

[BuckleBuster]

The only thing louder than the monstrous thud of the ring as the two bodies crashed into the mat was the mighty roar of approval from the audience over Naya's quick recovery. It was a violent decent, one that would have left both of them groaning on the mat had it not been applied as expertly as Naya did. While she still felt some discomfort, the brunt of the blow had been softened by her opponent's own body as it served as a malleable cushion to absorb the impact. Angelina on the other hand, had nothing but the hard and unforgiving canvas to rattle her body into temporary paralysis.

Naya's immediately set to work, not wanting to let one second of her opponent's debilitating daze go to waste. She positioned herself overtop her opponent, aligning her sizable bust directly overtop her opponent's before pressing down. Her legs slid into place in-between Angelina's own splayed out limbs, forcing her opponent's thighs between her hardened muscles before locking them in with a tightknit weaving of her ankles. Finally her arms set about immobilizing Angelina's upper torso, with one hand finding it's underneath her opponent's head in order to lift it up and cradle it against Naya's collar, the other hand swooping in to complete the frontal face lock.

While all the pieces in place, All there was left to do was squeeze. And squeeze Naya did, with the legs, chest, bust, and arms working in unison to choke the various ligaments and limbs that they had entrapped. Naya's legs squeezed Angelina's, their hips grinding against each other in perhaps the only pleasurable respite to be found in Naya's assault. Chest mashed into chest, her tits pushing fiercely into her opponent's, while her arms did the work of applying steady pressure to her opponent neck. It was her signature Grindr, a move meant to squeeze the ferocity out of even wildest of beasts!

Grindr

In the midst of her all out full frontal assault, Naya leaned in close to her opponent's ear, her warm breath making it's way through strained channels to ensure her soft spoken words were heard. "Wooah their horsy, relax. In a couple of minute's, you'll be on your way to nirvana, I promise. Just need to squeeze the fight outta ya first!" Naya cooed, her lips brushing past her opponent's earlobe in a moment of affection that starkly contradicted the rest of her ferocious attack.

[Monsy]

Doing 720s on the half-pipe was easier than taking a spear. She was broken into a million punk-ish bits, strewn across this white sheet they both laid on. Her tummy felt like rocks inside, swelling, and in tandem, coaxed by this soothing mental voice telling her to relax further. Stay down. You have time. Naya’s weight is a hydraulic press that crushed her flat. Then it was warmth, from the tips of her breasts mushrooming into her rival’s that made her heart do a kickflip, the eloping of thighs that spread her wide, showing the scant reality of her bottoms and locking like a merciful python. Even their tummies’ brush is a caress that eased out another groan. She started coming to then, with the first bump of hips bringing her eyes to flutter open. 〝Huh? A-Ach!〞

Fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her in, and she felt something stiff push against her throat. She couldn’t see it, but she saw the lights, their silver-white hair and the round edges of their nape. 〝Little w-Gnngh!〞

The choke caught her mid-sentence and forced her mouth to gape. Her tongue rolled out, coughed, and a hand grabbed a fistful of their side. Both eyes tensed as she thrashed, her skinny leg jerked in the vice that felt like it was being reshaped, and the other whipped up and stomped, then folded to scrape their thigh with the rubber sole. The same limb reached out towards the ropes, kicked, slapped and axe-kicked. And her hands now dropped, scraping against the canvas with claws. Redness swallowed her cheeks and the lights multiplied. 〝D-Damn…〞Her voice croaked, now scrambling hips underneath, searching for purchase on the mat then leveraging them an inch if she could. Bitterness bit deep like her teeth, now shooting out growls, snarls and her upper-body joined the fray. It’s when that voice twinkled in her ear, shivers tickled her nape and warmed her face further. 〝Fuck. Thaaack.〞

If she couldn’t find the bottom rope with her foot, then all was to crumble. Her fist turned to an iron ball and hammered against their side, once, twice, then unravelled to lay face-down. That free thrashing leg steadied like a beautiful post-storm morning, splaying wide on the canvas from her calf to hamstring. And her eyes, once filled with fury, now sucked to stay upright like a bad drunk ness, and slip into her head, with drool leaking from the corners of her mouth. Her eyelids started feeling heavy… and her rapid, machine-gun breathing eased into a state of tranquility. Double lights became four. Four to eight