A Professional Courtesy

[BlackAkuma]

”-and your perfume stinks, and I’ll snap those noodles you call arms the first chance I get, and I swear-”

Wendy was still going strong with her tirade, though she had to admit, she was running out of good material to work with. Much as she hated to admit, there wasn’t a whole lot to really grasp onto with Neith. Fancy as she was, it wasn’t hard to see why guys would fall over themselves to get a session with her - she had that look, the kind that stuck out on a computer screen. Guys were always falling over themselves for the foreign chicks, even the ones who couldn't wrestle their way out of the wettest paper bag, and judging from the way Neith carried herself and dove into the gimmick, she knew it. She was a rare commodity.

A realization that, of course, just pissed Wendy off even more. But not quite as much as what happened next.

She kind of expected that Neith would shut her up sooner or later, and it wasn’t hard to guess how she would do that given the current position, but that didn’t make it any easier to take when the Egyptian scooted forward and dropped her crotch right on her mouth. Wendy let out an indignant, muffled shriek, one that reverberated through her opponent’s hips, then broke into a stream of curses, uselessly working her mouth against the flesh. None of them were intelligible, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

Her nostrils flared, her eyes narrowed into heated slits, her legs renewed their frantic kicking, and that last part was her undoing. All the flailing made her easy prey for Neith, who reached back and grabbed her legs, pulling them forward and folding her over with practiced ease.

Wendy had many gifts and strengths, but flexibility was not among them, and this hold pushed her to the limits. To say nothing of the added weight it put on her face and the way it made her struggle for every breath, with Neith’s crotch threatening to overtake her nose at any moment. For now, though, all she could do was voice her rage with a long, guttural growl and file this away as one more thing to get revenge for when she had the chance. Whenever that might be.

[HotWheels]

Like she savored her first mouthful of honey after weeks without sweets, Neith let loose with the most pleasured mmm when she silenced Wendy with her body, earned that little nice-feeling shriek, and felt as Wendy did everything she could to try and talk. Most of her clients just moaned in this situation, but Wendy was making it ecstasy by trying to complain so much. Control over this cocky bitch felt so, so good. "I'm just going to imagine that every single one of those words I'm smothering out of you is heaping me in praise."

Neith certainly would not act with any kindness. An elbow snagged around one thick leg, than the other, and she tucked them neatly in place so that Wendy's feet would be almost above her own head. She could feel the struggle of the woman beneath her, having such a bad time staying bent this way. Oh, Neith was certainly going to poke that bear. "Aww. Are we too heavy to bend, cheeks? You might want to work on that. Clients love a flexible girl." Nevermind that Neith was only a few pounds lighter even if they had different builds, and nevermind that even she could feel the porcelain smoothness and appealing thickness of the legs now tucked within her arms. Clearly, she had the superior body.

Now...onto business. Neith took a long, threatening glance at the leg to either side of her, then peered down at Wendy. After a moment's pondering...she decided she wanted to hear what Wendy had to say about this matter, and she slid back just far enough to return the American's mouth to her own use. "Now, what if I was to do..." Bending the legs a little tighter, Neith brought her hands together to get the marker situated...then, right where Wendy could see it, she reached over and put a very evident dot over the top of her left knee as a tease.

[BlackAkuma]

Surprise of surprises, Neith’s taunting did absolutely nothing to quell Wendy’s complaints. Quite the opposite, in fact - as the woman spoke and made fun of her weight and figure, they ramped up to a new degree, going so hard that she started to feel lightheaded, her nose not able to draw in enough air for all her resistance. The Egyptian had some nerve going there, too - yeah, she was smaller, but not that much smaller. They were close enough in size they could probably trade clothes if they wanted to, no problem. Not that Wendy would be caught dead wearing any of this corny stuff.

She was just starting to fade when Neith finally let up, sliding back and letting her mouth free. ”-and your stupid tiara looks like a Sailor Moon knockoff!” She spat that last one out as she huffed and puffed, her heaving chest making Neith rise and fall in time. That was about all she had for now, for whatever good it would do. They both knew what was coming next, it was just a matter of where it was happening.

As it turned out, the knees. Shorts would be off the table for a little while.

”Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while you got it, you little airhead!” Kind of a random thing to spout out, but she was getting a little tired of ‘bitch’. ”Just wait, just wait, as soon as I get up I’m laying you out and drawing everything can fit on the skinny butt of yours. A 'For Sale' sign, some arrows, gas clouds, you name it. Just. Wait.”

[HotWheels]

The bitch was still going. Neith would not dare give her credit for her unfortunate amount of accuracy with her Party City or Sailor Moon comments (though her clothing had gone through numerous, expensive edits). Had she been losing, certainly she would have lost her head over Wendy's daring to make an insult with anything close to truth. Now, she merely responded with, "Cute coming from a fashionless whore who looks like she walked off the set of a My Little Pony porn parody." Her neck straightened with pride over the insult. "Fitting. You're built like a horse."

She continued to rattle her insults as Neith kept her in the pinning prison and began her work marking on the woman's thighs. Neith offered her the biggest shit-eating grin the world had known after the first dot, and as Wendy continued to rattle on with what Neith currently deemed empty threats, the Egyptian beauty continued her artwork. With Wendy's legs bent, she could not move her marker very high on her thighs, but she worked sideways up her thigh, drawing half of the Arabic word for Goddess Neith on one leg.

As she turned to the other, she made the decision to let the first leg go and leave Wendy half-bent. "Oops," she sarcastically said, before she started to all-too-attentively write the other half of the symbol at the bottom of the other thigh, all threats from her new rival far from her mind as she did so. In fact...she started humming.

[BlackAkuma]

As cathartic as it was to rattle off insults and hurl them Neith’s way, even Wendy was starting to realize how futile it was at the present moment. She was well and truly pinned by someone who had a lot of experience doing it. While the Egyptian might not have been some fancy jui-jitsu master, she had this aspect down pat. Rattling off like this was just expending more and more energy. Energy that could've been spent wrecking this woman the moment she was up and free.

So, for now, her best play was just to lay down, save her breath, and wait.

Wendy toned it down to irate grumbles as her rival worked on her legs, drawing some symbols on her leg that she didn’t recognize. It looked like scribbles as far as she could tell, but then she remember the whole heiroglyphs thing that Neith centered the match around. Made sense, she guessed.

She chewed her lip for a moment before curiosity got the better of her and she interrupted the humming - which, she had to admit, didn’t sound half-bad. Neith had a fine voice, even if most of what came out of her mouth was bullshit. ”What…” She had a hard grunt as she tried to get more comfortable. ”What even is that supposed to be?”

[HotWheels]

In Neith's mind, the drawn Arabic so clearly spelled out her name, though given the awkward angles and the ample curves of Wendy's legs, but as she finished, she looked at it like the most prideful of artists. If she could have reached, she might have laid a kiss on both masterpieces (and humiliated Wendy further in the process), but she merely rubbed her hands up and down her thighs and stared down with menacing gall at her trapped rival. Wendy even asked what it meant.

"That, sweet eahira," Neith said, pausing to boop her on the nose with the marker again. "is my name. I so want you to enjoy the memory of us in this position." And where would be more visible to her than her thighs? Neith again patted the one remaining trapped leg and hugged against it like she was presenting her wonderful canvas to the art museum. Wendy could say what she wanted, but Neith knew she would remember this day for a long time.

Only once the moment of bliss was gone did Neith realize that Wendy's leg had grown extremely heavy, and though she turned her head to try and see a way she could mark on Wendy's ass, having no sense of sportsmanship to concede the point and let Wendy free, she could not find the angle. But maybe her breasts... Neith peered down on the American with a sultry hunger before dropping her leg and sliding back, giving up leverage she had forgotten was immensely valuable in opposition to Wendy's strength in order to continue her drawing. "I suppose I'll have to play with these now...", she added, trying to briefly slap a hand across one of Wendy's tits.

[BlackAkuma]

Huh. Ask a question, get an answer. She supposed she shouldn’t have been that the markings said Neith’s name, it was definitely the kind of thing she would do. And maybe it being in whatever language that was would be a small blessing - after all, it wasn’t like most people on the street would know what that said. She could always bullshit and say it was some kind of botched henna tattoo.

Then again, she would know what the markings said, and that was annoying enough. Probably the whole point.

Neith continued her work and looked primed for more, but it didn’t miss Wendy’s notice that the Egyptian was getting a little slack. She let the legs go down, confident in her position, as she focused on her next target: her breasts. Two of her proudest assets.

Not happening.

Wendy waited for Neith to go in for the kill before she planted her feet ont the floor and bridged hard, trying to throw the slightly smaller woman off with one mighty push. And not only that, as she aimed to fling her hard into the nearest wall.

[HotWheels]

Lost in her own wonderful world of dominance, brought on by years of having people in this position and their wanting to be nowhere else, Neith went on about her business as if it were simple calculus. She would humiliate Wendy, draw on her, and generally do whatever she wanted because it was the experience she was used to and the one she was determined to enjoy. Not a single thought of concern weighed on her now that she had this position of power, because, frankly, no one had the ability or true desire to free themselves.

No one until Wendy, at least.

Neith spread her thighs over Wendy's midsection, bent down, and moved both hands, with one moving to Wendy's mouth and the other to her chest. It never occurred to her that she likely should have taken those actions in reverse, and she almost purred when she spoke again. "Let's really make you breathless," she said, and the rug (or, Wendy) came out from under her.

Her hips were jostled, and at the same time, Wendy's shove against her made her careen off to the side. That loud thunk of hitting cheap wallboard followed, with Neith's head having taken the initial brunt of the hit. It was not hard enough to knock her out, but with Neith's pain tolerance and the sudden burst of Wendy's strength to send her there, it didn't matter. The Egyptian yowled and grabbed her head all the same while all other ideas leaked out of her ear the same as blood from the tiny cut that formed there from the impact.

[BlackAkuma]

The moment Wendy was free, she rolled to the side and gasped, taking the time to savor the first unencumbered breaths she’d have for a good couple of minutes. She rubbed her jaw, too, still sore from the kick that Neith had waylaid her with when she started her offensive rush. The woman had strong legs, she would give her that much, and it was stark reminder that a) she had to take the Egyptian seriously at all times and b) some payback was due.

She had a fair idea of how, too.

Wendy shook her head, clearing it, and stood up as Neith reeled, taking a quick second to toss the blankets back on the bed. She would be back on it in a moment, and she wanted all the space she could get for what she had in mind, next. ”So you’re in LAW, too, huh? Rookie?” She padded her way across the plush carpet and rolled her shoulders, getting limber. ”Let me give you some pointers, honeybun.”

She marched over to Neith’s fallen form, reached over, and ‘helped’ the woman back to her feet by grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking her up, forcing her to stand if she didn’t want to lose a clump. She took note of the small cut on Neith’s forehead, though, and made sure to keep an eye on it. Most of the clip stores were real particular about blood.

”Hairpulling’s illegal, but most times? Referee doesn’t care.” She pulled Neith up, higher and higher, then forced her up against the wall as soon as she was straight. ”And this is how you do a chop.”

Wendy let go of the grip, but only so she could take a step back, then launch forward and swing her arm at Nieth’s chest, hitting her with the best knife-edge chop she could muster, right across her proud breasts.

God, she hoped this was the first time the Egyptian had taken a chop. The first time was always the worst.

[HotWheels]

Neith's yowl subsided, only to be replaced by a few irritated moans, and she continued to hold her delicate head like she worried her brains would spill out from what was realistically a minor impact. Only once she was confident that said spilling would not happen did she lower her hands to check for blood. Her tone quickly changed into a wicked, frustrated grumble when she confirmed that she was intact. By the time her mouth opened, trying to drown out Wendy's own words, all decorum for not waking half of the hotel's worth of patrons had flown by the wayside. "Slimy donkey of a woman! Who throws someone into the wall!? And you wonder why- AHHHH!"

Not physically capable of resisting the massive instinct to move in the direction where it felt like her own hair was being turned into tiny needles on her scalp, Neith shoved to her feet awkwardly as Wendy grabbed her by the hair and sent pain shooting through her. "Fuck you! Do not touch that!" Already she started fighting once up and with her feet under her and Wendy shoved her against the wall. Her hands swung out, smacking first against Wendy's solid shoulders, then lowering her arms to try her slightly squishier sides, ignoring Wendy's words all the while.

She should not have ignored the words. Neith was left staggering on the wall, glaring with a feral malice in the direction of the other session wrestler for daring to be out of her swinging range. Her anger almost had her lunge with a small battle cry to try and catch Wendy.

She caught the back of Wendy's viciously swinging hand instead. Neith had taken chops before; a few of the model girls in her fantasy matches couldn't think of any other offense and tried them. A sting, little else. Pathetic stuff. Male clients sometimes did such a thing to watch her breasts bounce in a "competitive" match. Depending on the weight of the impact, Neith either accepted it as a kink and went on about her business or put them out for their daring and aggression. Even at worst, most men just made her sternum ache.

But Neith had never faced Wendy's chop before. She was not entirely able to process it all. A smack echoed through the room, and she felt like Wendy had just taken an axe to her. That was as far as her thoughts got, because the blow sent her back like a shotgun to the chest, and the sound of Neith banging head-first off the wall yet again followed. Neith made like a deflating balloon both with the noise she made and with the way she slowly sank against the wall until falling fully onto her ass, all but slain by the blow.