Sexual, Sensual Healing (For BlackAkuma)

[TheLoneWanderer]

ELSEWORLDS - Summer 2023 - In another lifetime...

The cage in the gym facilities was heavy with the smell of cleaning products, sweat, and the tangling and twisting of two bodies rapidly going at each other with calculated precision. A push and pull that would eventually end in some party's submission. Sat in a corner where he would not be bumped into by the rolling fighters, Senji observed as his new friend went at it against his former opponent. While, unfortunately, his older brother could not make it this time...there was always the next. These two would need to make do in nourishing the beast's hunger.


Regarding attire, Imai wore a blue rashguard with darkened highlights, supported by yellow trim that went down through the middle of the blue and black sections until it reached the wrist. Black shorts went on to conceal his pale, developed thighs, hiding the tensed nethers. Standing at the age of 20, at a height of 5' 9" and just north of 150 pounds did Imai dare to step against a 6' 4" behemoth standing at 242 pounds. Though, he wasn't quite standing now, was he? So far, if he had to make an approximation, wrestling with Bast was like rolling with a kettleball. Rolls of dense, rippling muscle and tissue pulsed under dark brown skin. Perhaps it was a mistake letting her saddle onto his back like a cowgirl and sink her hooks deep into his body? No matter.

The blonde fighter made his bed, now he had to sleep in it. If the fates were kind, this would mean not literally. This sudden, momentarily invasion of his space. It made him feel hot and stuffy.

The prompt RNC forced Imai to gurgle on any words he might have said. His arms spasmed up, the young man writhing in her grip. However, the resistance was a few steps above panicked flailing. His hips would be twisting right and left, trying to gain some purchase but it was insanely difficult with her feet inserted underneath his thighs. Imai growled in protest, trying to curl into himself, which would bend his stomach inward. Simple. Textbook. All too crushing. Imai choked out another grunt, unable to speak. Dammit, he thought, her arms were strong and her thighs were so TIGHT around his waist. So effective, that he was forced to slowly and steadily lean back into it, pressing his weight into her and leaving the woman on the bottom of him. The arm around three sides of his neck aided in his mouth internally salivating and his eyes narrowing in their cones of focus, slightly watering.

Imai understood the mechanics of the choke. If he could understand a situation, all that mattered was getting out of it. For the purpose of making this submission easier on himself, Imai first focused on his waist. He compelled his hips to strike backward, grinding deep, as if he was trying to skip down to Bast's pelvic bone. Then, he tried to shift off to the left, shimmying his legs in the same direction to get them on one side by "walking" his feet. Regarding the likely position of Bast's legs after his action, everything from the ankles could be resting on the front of his waist, bordering on between his legs. The right leg that trapped his arm was secondary to the danger of the heavyweight's biceps, so Imai chose to ignore it for now in favor of reflexively gripping into her shin with the limited range of motion allowed to his bent, constricted arm and fingers. Even with that, it was not quite as painful as an legitimate armlock...

Now, how would the Pantheress respond to step one of the escape?

[BlackAkuma]

Bast had to admit, she needed this, as strange as it was to say. She’d gone her entire life without having a sparring partner and did just fine, but now that she had two to work with, she was having a hard time seeing how she ever went without.

Growing up, most of her time in combat had been trial and error, learning what worked and didn’t work on the fly. It was all she had to work with, so it wasn’t as if she could’ve chosen a different way of doing it, but looking back, she was truly amazed she’d managed to survive such a routine. So many times, she could’ve been brutalized in a way that left her broken and shattered, could’ve been paraylyzed, could’ve been killed.

And yet, here she was.

It was just an ideal thought, one of many that made its way into her head as she ground Imai in the hold, clamping down tight on him with the RNC. She had to concede he took it better than most, staying awake and refusing to tap despite the increasing pressure. It made her want to crank the hold even further, to test his limits, if only to sate her curiosity. That, and being honest, she didn’t hate the way his body felt against her own. Rather pleasant, actually.

She tried to focus, as he made his attempt to escape. He rolled over, trying to diminish her hold’s effectiveness, then made a play for unlocking her legs - not the worst idea, really, and a far better play than thrashing around and hoping for the best. It wasn’t going to work, though, and she would gladly show why, as she powered down on his neck with even more focus. She unlocked her legs, but only so she could push her foot against the floor and rock over to her back again, where she would promptly relock the hold, trying to erase even that small amount of progress.

He wasn’t going anywhere. Not if Bast had her way.

[TheLoneWanderer]

Imai's dimming vision caught the worried expression coating his ginger-haired partner's face, before he flashed him a thumbs up with his trapped arm to indicate he was okay. At the same time, Bast stomped her foot to reposition - to shift - herself back underneath him as opposed to being off to the side just slightly. From what he could see in the edges of his vision, he could rule out a quick ankle lock for now. If Bast had crossed her feet above his hips, then it'd be far harder, or not worth it, to try snagging one of her ankles to pressure it over the other. That wouldn't apply to the generic hooks or a figure four body lock, as they were meant to be escaped in other ways. The main focus should be the actual choke.

His free arm had been grabbing hard at her choking arm, when he should have been focusing on the supporting arm. Recognizing this error immediately after the leg maneuver, Imai went to reach across for her supporting arm. That would be the limb slipped neatly behind his ponytailed head.

His thin, limber fingers went to get purchase on Bast's forearm. However, he knew it would be easier to focus on a joint rather than challenging her pristine muscles head on. With that, hopefully, done, Imai's fingers slithered up the underside of her forearm to get to her wrist. For the first move, he was going to also try and angle his head upward, tilting his scalp backward. Then, Imai Cosmo would dedicate a considerable amount of effort to inhaling his abdominals inward and twist off to his left. All three of these actions would be done for the single purpose of giving Imai a better chance of getting Bast's wrist nudged to his hand so that he could grab it and PULL with all of his strength as it was harder due to his arm being trapped on one side by her calf. As a final sign of resistance, Imai pulled his head forward to snap his neck away from the vice grip of the woman's arms at best, combining with the pulling of his free hand.

If he were to get even a LITTLE closer to being freed, Bast might find Imai beginning to turn into her chest and settling snuggly between her lower half, remaining closer instead of trying to engage the beautiful behemoth in some sort of ranged battle. As the fight began to metaphorically arouse both, Imai found himself enjoying her company in this way.

[BlackAkuma]

To the naked eye, this might have looked as simple as clamping onto the smaller man and squeezing with everything she had—and against some of Bast’s opponents, it indeed would have been that easy. Back home, most of her opponents had been less-experienced. Those she couldn't outmuscle, she could outmaneuver with ease. The match was essentially over once she put them in a choke like this, save for the crying.

With Imai, however, things were often different. He possessed the technical skill that she often strove for but sometimes fell short of. Instead of uselessly grasping at her forearm, he strategically moved his body, going after specific spots, forcing her to focus on particular areas while contorting and twisting in unnatural ways. It all came together like a bout of living Chess, with him strategically moving this way, then the other, to get him free.

It was a canny strategy, and it worked. More or less. He was able to get his head free, but he didn’t break away further than that, staying in the range they were both comfortable with. Bast assisted instead of resisting and tried to push his head between her legs, where she’d try to score a triangle choke—not her best move, but it would do.

She couldn't help but notice the rather intimate contact, either, but she did her best to push past it for the moment, knowing she had far more important things on which to focus.

[TheLoneWanderer]

As for Imai, he felt like he was managing wonderfully with not being put in a choke and snorting his last gasp of life out. So far, Imai thought he was being pleasing enough. Her expression wasn't very varied, however. There seemed to be an eternal display of concentrated, focused fire in that gaze of hers. The most emotion one of the two got out of her was mild frustration and extended bouts of dedication in putting Senji on his butt. Not that Imai Cosmo complained. Silence was better than getting called a (expletive and slur redacted) or implying he liked mayonnaise on his fries, even if he befriended said guy after having choked him out.

She knew what she was doing, but the foundations could only get one so far. Imai rested between her legs, not stagnating in reaction to the Triangle Choke attempt. Imai's back sagged with the influence of the two legs, the limbs cordially snapping around his neck at a lightning-quick pace supplied by a big body with the staminato fuel it. When one of her legs wrapped around the nape of his neck, the same-side hand, or whichever one that wasn't trapped, moved up to grip at the flesh of her thigh. Nimble fingers dug into the dark skin, Imai still conscious enough to not consider bloodying her leg by cutting it open with his blunt nails.

Darn it. Bast snagged him. He could've sworn that when the pressure poured on, that his sight blurred immediately and a tear of salty fluid dropped down from his left eye.

Imai choked out a compliment, muttering it low between her legs. Not by choice, mind you.

"At least---you're not thinking like a meatheaded idiot."

Spoiler

Slamming was a last resort, as Imai did not wish to damage himself. So, that left a more tactical approach. The veins in his forehead pounded, his body writhe with strife and flexed muscle. His grip on her thigh tightened out of reflex, blue eyes staring into her neutral, amber orbs. He gurgled on his own words as his eyebrows furrowed out of competition-driven anger. The youthful face had contorted into a grimace. Imai was brought closer into the climax of the hold that strangled him at three points: The right leg wrapped around his neck. Cosmo's shoulder pressing in his throat's side. His own bicep's slight curl into the front of his throat. An uncomfortable tingling was there as well as the general swimming of thoughts as the young man had already become quite susceptible for Bast's submission hold. The initial attempt at a pull, without changing his position, would be worthless. Imai elected for an attempt at walking both of his legs forward, settling his heels beside her stomach, in order to make space of him to sit his butt down on the floor. As a side effect, Samira probably felt, although both were cushioned by a double combo of shorts and a conditioned waist, his pelvic bone smash into her trunk. A growl escaped Imai, a spike of pain shooting up from his groin. As the final step, Cosmo's free hand tried to reach forward to his trapped arm's palm to, similar to an armbar's defense, force his forearm back towards himself at a 90-degree angle, bracing his elbow on the woman's abs, to alleviate the constriction of his neck partly. If she had cupped his head instead, then that required Imai to do something differently than described....

All in all, it was a mad scramble for neutrality before Imai tapped or napped. All that needed to be answered was what Bast would do in response.

[BlackAkuma]

This was done.

As far as Bast was concerned, anyway. She had put this particular hold onto enough people to know the way it inevitably ended, and she could say with relative certainty that, if Imai didn’t tap out, he was going to sleep shortly, and it wouldn’t be a pleasant nap. While she didn’t break out the triangle choke often, she was unquestionably suited for it, with thick, muscular legs that could crush most bodies without much trouble. He didn’t have to like it, but he would have little choice. He was going down.

That was what should have happened, at least. The reality turned out to be slightly different than she had pictured.

To his credit, Imai kept fighting, even managing to get his feet on the floor. She looked on, confused, trying to figure out what he was hoping to accomplish until it became clear - he was looking to alleviate the pressure with some tactful repositioning, working his way up and forcing her into an uncomfortable position to lessen the hold’s effectiveness. It was a novel way of dealing with the situation, she would give him credit, and far more productive than trying to slam her, like some more wild opponents would have done. Or attempted, more likely.

It was difficult position to be in, and while she would’ve liked to get a hold of his head to maintain control, that was rendered useless with the way he’d grabbed his arms. The hold was still less than pleasant for him, but it had lost a lot of its choking potential, with her now settled between his legs and the pressure lessened. She needed to switch things up.

Bast abruptly let go of the hold and shoved him back, but that didn’t mean she was parting from him entirely. Instead of getting back up straightaway, she tried to grab hold of Imai’s ankle, tucking it tight under her arm, while her legs wrapped around it, going for a kneebar while he was still trying to process things.

[TheLoneWanderer]

Imai got out of one situation and only thrust himself deeper into another one. He had managed to make Bast give up on the Triangle, yes, but this resulted in a joint lock. At the shove, Cosmo threw his hands out behind his back to catch himself on the surface of his palms. His gaze followed along her movements, having sacrificed his ability to prevent the kneebar in favor of recovering from the push. It didn't help that her wrapping along his leg made him 'recoil' back to the floor. Legs locked tight around his thigh, with her ankles ending at the outside of his left hip or higher considering their height difference.

A curse formed and died in his throat; it had been something along the lines of "Fuuuuuu-". The small portion of his mind that wasn't focused on the blistering pain spiraling up his knee chided himself on the vulgar language. However, the majority of his thoughts had something more pressing to worry about. The attempt at a hyperextension caused Cosmo to whimper, stemming from an aborted growl. From his half-turned position, he torqued his spine to the left so he could take the in the situation. She seemed to not be aiming to snap his leg immediately in order to give him time to submit. Cosmo rested his palms on Bast's calves before proceeding to lower them to her locked ankles. He split his hands between each foot, desiring to physically break the connection apart by way of pushing her insteps out. It was similar to how he could break someone's legs wrapped around his waist.

If successful, Cosmo tossed her right leg back to the right side of his waist. This allowed him to better lean forward and curl his free knee in, with that limb moving in a circular motion, to support his body without much stability. He needed to be careful with how he moved, otherwise he'd put too much tension in his trapped knee. Fighting chokes to the bitter end? Sure. It'd be idiotic, by comparison, to risk the months of recuperation a broken limb gets you. Hence why he chose to not try and counter Bast with an ankle lock of his own when she already had the kneebar locked in.

Back towards his defense, Bast probably found his leg itself trying to twist and curl out of her grasp, mostly to plant Imai's foot down by her armpit, while his fingers went to working on grabbing around her gloved hands and prying them loose. On the topic of his lower half, the free leg was forced to rest between her legs in this subpar try at a mount. Anything more direct might assist in the submission hold's effectiveness despite his future desire to snag Samira in a forearm choke. This could not happen yet, however much he thought about it.

[BlackAkuma]

Imai was nothing if not tenacious, Bast would give him that much. Some would write that off as being stubborn, but she saw it in a more charitable light.

In such a situation, most people would’ve given up the moment she put on this kneebar. Yes, this was just a spar, and no, she had no intention of making good on her unspoken threat to snap his leg in a play match that counted for nothing, but Bast was quite aware of the image she projected on people. The sight of her grasping their leg was enough to strike some serious fear into the hearts of most men, but Imai kept his cool regardless. Weighing options. Formulating a plan.

Bast kept a keen eye on him as he went into action, working to manipulate her ankles and pull them apart. She did her best to keep that locked in, but there was only so much she could resist from a position like this, especially when he was determined to pull them apart. He wound up getting what he wanted, but only in that regard. Bast wasn’t about to abandon her hold on his ankle just yet, wanting to maximize that for all it was worth, and she wrenched the hold tighter as he worked his way up. It didn’t seem like he was trying to counter her hold with one of her own, but…

Ah, there it was. He was trying to undo her hold with his foot and doing a decent job. She held tight for the moment, but this would only get her so far for so long. When it did give way, she ran the risk of giving him a favorable position to work from. Better to cut all her losses.

Instead of staying on a dying ship, Bast abruptly abandon the hold, rolled back, and tried to pop to her feet straight away, looking to reset before he could capitalize on his newfound position. A bit of a gambit, there was no guarantee she could escape with her size, but it was worth the risks.

[TheLoneWanderer]

Imai's attention firmly settled on Bast rustling beneath him. He had been in a similar position before underneath another, bigger, man. That had ended with nearly all of his ribs getting "popped" like chicken bones before he scrapped away with a victory by the skin of his flesh. Fortunately, Bast was much nicer despite the size advantage. In appearance. And in behavior. The combination of sweat and his caution made the escape easier for her, fighting a groan back down once she cranked the kneebar a final time. Their glistening skin slid against each other as the woman backed off, rolling back up to her feet with an adorable little hop.

That aqua gaze of his rose up to follow her, faster than his body. The last crank had damaged his knee joint only to the degree of Imai feeling the pain wash over his leg if he put weight on it and slowed his ascendance down. Given this, Imai chose to rise with the free leg to stare into her eyes. All business in those orbs, he supposed. Feeling snarky, despite that, Imai would move to taunt Bast and parody the more flirtatious wrestlers.

"Come onnnnnn, Bast~. It's no fun to slip out if you quit playing. You would NOT get a win bonus if I'm not using those boulders of some shoulders as a p-pillow.", Imai lectured, after she had ruined his plan. His left hand worried over his knee as the fingers caressed his leg. The last statement referred to the possibility of him getting KO'd, just put in a more obvious way. He only half meant the entire statement, as he was NOT the type to get a boot to the stomach and love the thrill of his intestines doing the Carlton dance. Since this was an intermission, Imai chose a harassment move to play into the role as bait for a trap. Cosmo turned around with his back towards her, jutting his hips back like an hourglass model. He could feel his face burn with shame, but pushed it down in favor of following through despite his labored, blushed expression betraying the confidence. After 2 wiggles, side to side, up to down, Imai chose to ignore the horrified expression on Senji's face and see if she'd get aggro'd enough to come at him.


If Samira did, Imai twisted on his good, right heel to employ a amateur, telegraphed backfist in a full 360 to blast her off to the side. Even if she didn't defend, he'd curl his bicep to avoid smacking Bast in the jaw or arm because it wasn't within the rules. A fake hit????? Then...he would crouch down in a deep low stance. His arms remained spread out at an eagle's width, with his weight distributed on his left foot again while the right foot was thrown back and set against the canvas. A takedown! Imai took off in a dash, soles slamming against the ground, and trying to spear Bast in the stomach with his left shoulder to CRASH into the metal cage. His scalp was settled, more like buried, underneath the space of her right armpit. A discernable flaw was that he put aimed a lot of power forward, leaving the corner trap on the unbalanced side and pushing his back into the wrestler rather than his shoulder.

Had she not bit the bait, he'd do the spear attempt into the cage wall, regardless, to beat the woman in a race to the next attack! It'd be better for both of them if she didn't get a chance to recover....

[BlackAkuma]

Though you would never guess it from her iron gaze, Bast enjoyed this exercise. It was refreshing to be able to fight without having to worry about too many consequences, to find the holes in her style in a setting that wouldn’t punish her with
anything harsher than a moment of shame.

Amazingly, she hadn't messed this up yet, achieving a small miracle. Relaxed settings were still not her thing by any stretch of the imagination, as she was still trying to get used to being in a casual situation with no immediate threats to bother her. Thankfully, her current company was more than accommodating, showing her much-needed patience and looking over her bouts of awkwardness.

She nodded at his comment and rolled said shoulders, trying to get some feeling back in the arms. Though she wasn't in any real danger of injury, she still felt it best to watch things, not take significant risks, and minimize the chances of slipping up. The last thing she needed was to come with a broken arm and endure Cersei’s ranting about their place in the heavyweight division being in jeopardy.

Her brow rose when she noted how Cosmo was reacting—was that supposed to be a taunt of some kind? If so, it didn’t quite register to her, but she could guess the intent: He was trying to egg her on, goad her into a rash move—a smart play, especially now that she was standing, where she could use the size difference to her best potential. If he wanted her inside, he’d get it, but she was sure he would regret it soon enough.

She approached, arms up and feet bouncing, only to find a backfist heading her way. While she knew the rules of this spar disallowed face striking, it was easy enough to forget that at the moment, and she dipped back, opening herself up for him to come forward and plow into her with an impressive tackle. Her arms wrapped around his head and her legs shot out behind her as he powered, looking to both put an end to his push and drop all of her weight on his back, pressing him hard to the floor.