March 'the Hare' Michel vs. Beauty - Nowhere to Run

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: Bondage Cage
Victory Stipulations: Before escaping the cage and claiming victory, wrestlers must incapacitate their victim using any available means.

***

Beauty was rarely excited about anything these days. Call it the curse of having experience, but she had been in the business long enough and seen enough that it was largely transactional. She enjoyed her work, naturally, but it had grown routine back in Russia, fighting the same people for the same belts in the same situations. So little dig her teeth into. So little to challenge. So little to stimulate. Wrestling was in danger of becoming a mindless morass, and she had hoped that coming to LAW might change that.

It seemed her hypothesis was correct. Thank you, March Michel.

When the match with Beast had started, the woman had only had her interest. She saw a young, lithe, nimble, braggadocious brat, in over her head, a sob story waiting to happen. Many of those comments also applied after the match, but now she could see some potential in March. She had endless energy, an indomitable spirit, an unshakeable confidence backed up by no small amount of talent. In order words, the woman was the exact sort Beauty could sink her teeth into. A project worth her time. A show she could put on for her first match in LAW.

A shame that Beast wouldn’t be able to see it. Or much of anything, for that matter.

No, he was currently indisposed. Before the match started, Beauty had found a nice, private room in the bowels of the LAW arena, a dungeon they used for the occasional hentai match. It wasn’t much, honestly, just a bondage table, a few whips and chains, nothing you couldn't find at a local porn store, and not one of the better quality ones at that. But it was more than adequate for her purposes.

Those purposes happened to involve strapping Beast to the table, planting a ball gag in his mouth, and covering his eye with a blindfold, leaving him in both perpetual darkness and silence. She stood over him, admiring his body as he squirmed in the bonds, trying to find some comfort and failing at every turn.

”Tight? Uncomfortable?” She ran a lazy hand over his exposed, hardened cock and gave it a single pump. Just enough to stoke him, so far from what he craved. ”Good. Do you know why you’re here, slave? Why you’re not accompanying me to the ring?”

He shook his head and mumbled his answer through the gag. She couldn't make out what he said. It didn't matter.

”You’re here and not there because there is where you want to be.” She brought her lips to his ear and gave it a single kiss, just enough to wet it with her saliva, before she heated it up with hot words. ”You’re a loser. A winner would get to accompany to me to the ring. A winner would get to watch, up close, while I strung up that pretty little thing and tore her apart. A winner might even get a taste of her himself, once I had my fill.” She tapped his nose with her index finger. ”But you failed. So, as you lay here in the dark, I want you to think about all you’re missing out on. What you could have, but won’t have. Picture it. Dream of it. Reflect. The next time you fight in my name, use it as motivation. A reminder of what happens when you please me, and more importantly…” Beauty ran her tongue along the edge of his legs, tracing a full circle around it, careful to barely touch his skin as she ran her circuit. ”...and what happens when you don’t.”

A few minutes later and Beast was little more than an afterthought as Beauty strode through the curtain and made her singles debut. Her

boomed all around the arena as red lighters flicker about, lighting her way towards the ring. She strode towards it with long, powerful steps, moving the structure without hesitation and observing her playground for the night.

Credit where it was due, LAW’s cage was more pristine than the rusted mess she was used to back in Russia. Fifteen feet of steel surrounded the ring, barring it from all sides, but what intrigued her most of all was what she found inside - several handcuffs were hooked around the cage, one for each side, along with a lovely set of rope under each corner. Beauty promptly made her way through the cage door, picked up the nearest bundle, and ran her fingers over the fine material - sisal, just as she’d asked. As a bondage enthusiast, she’d grown into something of a rope connoisseur. Every kind had its uses, with sisal being the best when her more sadistic itches needed scratching. Rough, scratchy, irritating to the skin, but strong enough to withstand all but the strongest struggles. More than a minute bound with it could drive you crazy, and Beauty intended to have March tied up for much longer than a minute.

Thoroughly pleased, Beauty strolled across the ring and took her position in the corner, leaning against the pads as her music faded. She looked towards the entrance ramp, eager for her opponent to show, her blood racing for the opportunity. March had been the subject of so many fantasies in the week since they parted, and now she was about to help bring them all into reality.

She’s waiting…

[DeVir]

A cage!?

That amounted to March Michel's first reaction to the proposition flung at her earlier in the week. While she had nursed her minor injuries (and watched Fifty Shades: it was much better when it was broken down into twenty sex scenes with nothing in between), the idea of battling with Beauty started to titillate her. She had the sense that the woman could be as tricksy as the Hare herself, but she didn't look like she proposed as big of a physical threat as Beast. In... the strength and speed sense. Not the tits and hips sense. Those were big.

The cage proposition had initially thrown her for a loop, then, since she had never had the luxury. She imagined speeding and sailing around the woman, staying one step ahead, but the cage threw a wrench into her designs. March never let anything stumble her confidence, but annoyances did lodge in her head and stay there the same as a tick. She had worked herself through to the obvious answer: it wouldn't matter an ounce because she had a full ring of space. Besides, if the whole deal involved tying Beauty up before she escaped, no one had faster hands.

Besides, she was the better wrestler. Knowing that always helped.

To forcefully reinforce that confidence, she spent her time in gorilla flirting with one of the younger hands and stretching until Beauty popped up on the monitors, making her entrance. "Holy hell. She's wearing that!?", she blurted. Straps and curves and curves and straps and... "I'd look good in that," she added, as much for her benefit as for the benefit of the cute boy still hanging onto her every word. In fact she turned to him. "Don't you think I'd look good in that?" He rushed to utter the affirmative, and she flipped her hair and nodded as she walked past for her own entrance. "That's the correct answer."

As her music bounced through the arena, so did the Hare, emerging with a buoyant skip. Good thing that snooty bitch didn't make her late this time. After throwing out bunny ears and eagerly shimmying her way across the stage, she darted for the ring, pointedly avoiding a glance at the cage as she entered it because it didn't matter. What did matter was the scantily clad woman in the ring who held her daring, smirking attention when she hopped up onto the ropes. She held the momentary staredown. Until someone in the crowd loudly complimented her ass, anyway.

Spoiler

"You're damn right!"

She wriggled it before she swung through the ropes. "Did the footstool lend you that?", she asked, pacing around the Russian with a coy spring in her step. Oh... yeah Where was... Her eyes swung around the outside of the cage. "Speaking of, where is that loser? I woulda thought he'd want a front row seat to see you tied up in here the rest of the night. Or just to see me again." She winked.

[BlackAkuma]

The moment March came marching out, bunny ears and all, Beauty zoomed in on her face, taking note of every little facet, much as she had done during their first encounter. While she doubted the woman had grown any more humble or focused in the past seven days, there was still much she could glean from the little ticks, the subtle cues she would carelessly let slip. The eyes told a story, and that story was in what she chose to focus on - or, in this case, what she chose not to.

Namely, Beauty was looking to see what March’s reaction to the cage would be, and she was intrigued by the answer: None at all. It seemed her opponent was making a conscious effort to acknowledge the cage, as if it didn’t matter to her. Or, as Beauty wagered, that was the lie she was telling herself. Had the woman never fought in one before? She was young, it was a distinct possibility.

An interesting mental note, one she slipped into her proverbial pocket as she made her way out of the corner, strutting towards her opponent, her stockinged feet lazily sliding across the canvas on her approach. She turned in time with her foe, keeping an eye on her as she made her way around the ring, already wasting energy.

At the mention of her husband, she gave the smallest shrug, as if his lack of presence was scarcely worth the mention March had given it. ”Losing has consequences. As you’ll see.” She idly brushed a few of her wild hairs away, keeping her vision clear. This was not an opponent she wanted to lose sight of. ”For him, those consequences include not seeing what I’m about to do to you. Or anything at all, for that matter.”

She let March interpret those words however she wished, as she stopped and lowered into her grappling stance. ”Now,” She leaned forward and raised her hands, silently daring March to engage her in a tie-up to kick things off. ”Shall we begin, or would you rather shake your ass for a little while longer? I’m content either way, mind you.”

[DeVir]

March figured she didn't need all the world's smarts or even a wild imagination to guess that Beastie Boy was likely off somewhere with a bag over his head or a blindfold on or covered in a cocoon of pantyhose or in some other predicament like was expected of kinky couples. The various images in her head made her snicker; if Beauty took that as a snicker to indicate March's belief that she wouldn't be losing anything tonight, all the better.

"I didn't come out here wearing the whole Golden Bins lingerie section," she clapped back, gesturing at Beauty's busty and curvy and delicious and jealousy-inducing figure. She pushed those thoughts out of one ear. Looking good in it didn't mean March believed it made for good wrestling wear. She would be sliding all over the place in those stockings. "Maybe I'll just strap you to the side of the cage with your own clothing. That'll make it easier."

And what was this complaint about her shaking her ass? March looked genuinely offended, and her shrug was overly dramatic. "You're complaining? You kissed me last time." She pointed as if to say, got you there. "And I think I will, at least one more time." She did, a slow rotation of her hips straight out of a rap video that had the nearest set of seats whooping and hollering. A glance over her shoulder to grin at that part of the crowd revealed the cage door being closed. Well, that was bound to happen soon enough.

With the bell ringing, Beauty was offering March a tie-up. March crept closer, but frankly, that wouldn't do.

She flicked her on the wrist and took a step back onto one foot, cheekily sticking her tongue over her top lip. "I don't do the whole tie-up thing, Beauty Sleep." Then she exploded back onto the other foot, attempting to catch Beauty on the noggin with a quick backhanded slap as she rushed past her. The "annoying mosquito" of match openings that she hoped to turn into far worse.

[BlackAkuma]

”You’re more than welcome to try.” And indeed, Beauty meant that. Part of her desire for this match was that it played to her strengths while putting March in unknown territory - she was fairly certain the woman didn’t even like to lace up boots, much less tie up a whole struggling person. It was much more difficult than most believed, and she was curious to see if her opponent would even give it an attempt or if she would opt for the handcuffs, instead.

Beauty hadn't lied when she said she wouldn’t mind March shaking a bit longer, either, and she was quite pleased when the woman took her up on the offer and gave the crowd a bonus show. She leaned over, getting a good angle of her bouncing body. No sane person would ever accuse her of being unattractive, and she was no different.

But the fun and games had to end, sadly. Down to business.

Beauty came in looking for a more traditional start, but March reveled in defying expectations - instead, she was given a playful smack around the face, before her opponent took off like a shot in the other direction, her quickness on display. She was no slouch in that department herself, however, and she was off to the races an instant later. Instead of going after March directly, she darted off itn the opposite direction, turned about, hit her back against the ropes, and bounded off with a burst of added momentum as she came back towards her opponent.

It wouldn’t be easy with them both in motion like bats out of hell, but Beauty did her best to anticipate her opponent’s path, raised her arm as she approached, and tried to hit her with a stiff clothesline to the chest, hoping to bring her down with a single, solid strike.

[DeVir]

March was not so foolish to think that Beauty had proposed this setting and this type of match because she saw an advantage in it. Her consternation came from this knowledge. The biggest idiot on the planet wouldn't have failed to play to her strengths. March would have picked a six-sided ring or whatever else could have made her speed more deadly. But she believed without an ounce of doubt that she could outrace this woman before anything around them became a factor. After all, a half-unconscious woman couldn't tie anyone up or escape from any cage.

So with an opening bop, she took off, aiming for the ropes and a quick rebound. "Sorry, in a hurry!" As she launched back from the ropes at breakneck speeds, looking downright unnatural in motion when fresh, she found Beauty having gone the other way. That was no fun and threw off her entire plan, what little plan she had formed. Still, March had reached mid-ring by the time Beauty had bounced back toward her, and she knew that she had the woman in a position with less room to maneuver. But where March picked the low angle, Beauty picked a better angle, and the leg she swung out didn't hit anything because Beauty's arm hit her in the bouncing breasts first.

"OOF!" It was a rocking jolt to the chest, and with March moving so quickly, she collapsed under the impact, slid on her ass, and nearly careened into the tight squeeze between the ring and cage wall. Hooking one leg over the bottom rope stopped her; she stayed there long enough to cough, squeeze her chest between her shoulders, and utter the right word: "Ow."

But untamable, March powered through, using her other foot to push off the ropes and propel herself upward into part Pele kick, part aimless swing of her foot to clear space between her and Beauty and get back to her feet.

[BlackAkuma]

March was fast . Blazing fast . Annoyingly fast. In fact, while Beauty was nimble herself, she had to concede that the blonde bomber was a level above, moving about the ring with a fleet foot that was worthy of her name. But, in her experience, speed by itself wasn’t a useful tool. The ring was only so big, and moving around it an insane rate did you little good if you weren’t doing so with purpose.

Beauty might have been slower - marginally - but she had focus, she had drive, and she had plans. This would be her edge.

As if to prove her theory, her clothesline connected clean on her swifter foe, nailing her before her kick could strike paydirt. Beauty was in position to see the results of her handiwork, but she could hear it well enough, with the resounding impact making quite a racket. The hit even left her own arm slightly numb, and swung it around a couple of times as she turned back towards her to make the feeling return.

Sure enough, March was reeling from the blow, nearly slipping out of the ropes into the worst position. Her opponent may have landed the first hit, but Beauty had scored the first one that mattered. She was more than content with that.

She was out to take the second, too, and moved in with open arms to do just that, but it seemed March was quicker on the mend than she’d anticipated. She rose fast and swung her leg about in an arc, clipping Beauty on the shoulder as she approached - it might not even have been intentional, but it was enough to knock her back a step and leave her wary, a stern reminder of how strong this woman’s legs were. She needed to neutralize them.

Figuring this was her best chance, Beauty ducked low and drove in as March reset her position, hoping to catch her off guard and force her to engage in a grapple. Neither of them were powerhouses, but she counted on the element of surprise to help her out, as she attempted to her opponent into the nearest turnbuckle and pin her up against it.

[DeVir]

She hit something. She didn't know if it was worth it. It didn't seem like Beauty's noggin she had struck, and she had to grab at her chest again once she stood since the motion jostled her. "Fuckin' hitting me in the tits," she griped, all the while whirling to see if she had any opening at all to give Beauty a proper kick to the head or any bopping at all. Well, there was an opening, but it was for Beauty to ram into her and send her careening back toward the turnbuckle. This was frustratingly familiar.

"Oh no you don't- rrrrrgh!" Just before she hit the turnbuckle, she planted her feet and leaned in to stonewall the momentum. "Boy Toy did this, and not again!" It didn't stop Beauty (she was stronger than she looked), but the collision with the turnbuckle became more a case of a lover being shoved into a wall than a car wreck. March clenched her teeth and kept fighting, even corner. She shifted her body to and fro; she shoved and swatted with both hands to create an obstacle. "You leave... my abs... alone! They're too pretty for... this."

Already claustrophobic due to the cage, the situation drove her feral. Knees started flying, wildly and aggressively, and March reached out to try and grab Beauty by the face so she could deliver one of the knees squarely into the woman's gut without it being avoided.

[BlackAkuma]

This was a page out of Beast’s playbook, but then, March shouldn’t have been too surprised. She and Beast did everything together since they made their relationship slightly more sanctified, for lack of a better word. That included training, and while she would rarely give him credit for such things, she had learned from the experience. In particular, he’d taught the importance of cornering an opponent, a tactic he had employed to great effect in their own bout.

Of course, she added her own spin to things. Her purpose in pressing against March wasn’t merely to lock her down - no, Beauty also wanted to steal a taste. Her hands roamed across the woman’s back with a gentle touch, and she stood apart from the rough situation, trailing lower by the second. Her lips found their way to her foe’s flanks, her tongue running across the skin.

She had more planned - much more - and without the count to save her, she could likely have gotten away with, but March proved to be a more difficult catch than she’d surmised. The woman fought back hard, going into a fit and letting her knees fly, grabbing her head to keep her in place. For all of Beauty’s talents, taking damage was not one of them, and the knee that sunk into her stomach was one more than she ever wanted to take, driving the wind clean out of her. God, the woman had powerful legs. She had surmised as much watching her face Beast, but seeing and feeling were two different things.

A retreat was in order, much as she hated to admit it. Beauty shoved March against the corner and stumbled away, clutching her stomach as she went, looking to create some distance while she sucked air back into her lungs.

[DeVir]

The hand March didn't notice initially; matches became incredibly touchy-feely sometimes. Sometimes, the touchy-feely led to post-match tension which led to... wanting to have somewhere to go after the match and yet not having anywhere to go because her old promotions had been destitute or cheap and hadn't provided facilities like LAW. Bummer. But March wanted out of the corner, so Beauty's attention didn't get her attention until... Frankly, a girl couldn't mistake a kiss on the side, and the sensation forced her to stifle a shiver.

"Whoa! Eat later, Hannibal!" On cue, her palm found Beauty's face, and her knee found Beauty's abs. The woman shoved her away and retreated, which satisfied the blonde just fine. She wiped Morticia's saliva off of her flank. She had no problem being covered in people's kisses, but she didn't want to give Miss "but can you beat me?" the pleasure. Or think about it too much, which she was prone to do. In fact it was due time to distract herself by taunting.

"That's what it feels like! Let your abs hurt tomorrow."

Rather than waste all of her time talking (which she could easily, easily do), she lined her body up from her position on the turnbuckle, then launched and barreled toward Beauty. Figuring the woman would hear her unless the knee had somehow deafened her, March feinted another knee with a hop-step, then ran on past her with an audible snicker. She leaped, caught the middle rope with her feet and the top rope with her hands. As she launched back off the springboard maneuver, her foot spun high, aiming for Beauty's head.