Victory Conditions: Achieved by submission over an opponent after they have achieved a forced orgasm. The winner must accept the submission for the match to end, otherwise, the match continues.
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Madeline simply could not have asked for anything better.
Tonight was a moment of utmost importance for her, and the stage had been set for an absolutely stunning bout. Not only did the rules cater to her sensual aptitudes, but tonight's opponent would be one of the more established wrestlers in the league, meaning that her fall would make things all the more rewarding. Amandine. Sweet, spicy, smooth, and tasteful, this name was. She could only hope the woman herself would be just as satisfying. Madeline would find out soon enough, as she planned to explore every nook and cranny of what tonight's foe would have to offer.
And this opponent was burning bright if Amandine's nickname was anything to go by. Fresh off of a string of victories, the rising star of the buxom French muscle goddess was as powerful and imposing as the videos and pictures try to do justice. Muscles as smooth as ivory but hard as mountains; they lined her body with subtle hints of her past curvature smoothing them out. The kind of godly, admirable body normally associated with statues carved of precious stones. Already there was a lot to like, but as much as her opponent seemed deserving of respect, Madeline would refuse to give it to her. In the pursuit of greatness, other people are like pawns, nothing but the lowest step on the staircase to the top. Everything about this match sided with the Brit's tastes perfectly, and she was determined to put on a magnificent showcase.
One that ends in a satisfying victory for herself, and humiliating mockery of her opponent.
Spoiler
![Image](https://cdn.donmai.us/original/ce/47/__dorothea_arnault_sylvain_jose_gautier_lorenz_hellman_gloucester_dorothea_arnault_sylvain_jose_gautier_and_1_more_fire_emblem_and_2_more_drawn_by_nakapipo__ce476b9b02658cc5ad53dead2e44ff23.jpg)
As she takes in the reception from the crowd in the form of hoots and hollers, Madeline would wait in the corner, elegantly resting her leg on the top rope. A casual stretch, yet belies the strength in them. Her facial expressions showed no sign of strain or effort, not even a hint of doubt or anxiety. Outwardly, Madeline was relaxed and poised as any aristocrat would be. Inwardly, she just wanted this French Fireball to appear and grace her presence.