Strangled Depths Dojo

[LawHell]

Fighters: "Maegu," Je Sun Hee vs Jenner Sky

Match type: Iron Woman

Match Win condition: Iron woman, Forcing the opponent into moves and knockouts to build up points before the end of the time limit which is 60 minutes.

Match unique rule add-ons: Sleeper holds/knockouts do not count as a win condition it will just add to the points, tap outs can be ignored

The referee for the match: None

Ring Type: Closed Off Private Dojo Room Sparing will happen on the mats

(Opening sense)
The rain continued to pound relentlessly against the grimy windows of the repurposed steel mill that now housed Jenner’s dojo. Outside, the three fighters in matching black gis, tight black booty shorts, and Kraken-engraved foot guards remained eerily still, their soaked figures unwavering in the downpour. Their MMA-gloved hands flexed subtly, as if preparing for something, though their faces remained cold and unreadable. The imposing steel doors creaked open slowly, revealing the dojo’s dark heart within.

Inside, the transformation from a decaying industrial husk to a brutal training ground was jarring. The soft glow of lanterns provided just enough light to illuminate the rows of mats stretched across the floor, though the warm glow did nothing to soften the harshness of the scene. The air was thick with the smell of blood, sweat, and something darker—a stench of desperation and cruelty that hung over the dojo like a storm cloud. The soft patter of rain outside was drowned out by the thudding sounds of sparring, fists and feet striking flesh with sickening force.

On the mats, the fighters moved with a twisted, almost mechanical precision. Every pair of combatants wore the same attire: black gis cut short to reveal their powerful legs, bare feet adorned with Kraken-themed guards, and black MMA gloves gripping tightly as they fought. But there was something off in the way they moved, something darker in their eyes—each fighter seemed to harbor a sadistic streak, their expressions twisted with a sick enjoyment as they battered their sparring partners.

In one corner, a pair of fighters grappled violently, locked in a brutal struggle. One fighter, her muscles bulging under the strain, had her opponent’s arm bent at a vicious angle, her legs wrapped around the woman’s torso in a crushing scissor hold. The opponent had already tapped out, her hand slapping frantically against the mat, but her captor ignored the sign of surrender. Instead, she twisted harder, a wicked grin spreading across her face as the victim screamed in agony. The sound of popping joints echoed through the room, but no one intervened. This wasn’t a place for mercy.

Elsewhere on the mats, another pair of fighters engaged in a savage striking session. One fighter landed a brutal roundhouse kick to her opponent’s ribs, sending her crashing to the floor. The downed fighter groaned, clutching her side, but the victor wasn’t finished. She stood over her fallen opponent, staring down with cold, merciless eyes before dropping to her knees and wrenching her into a devastating armbar. The victim’s cries filled the air as her arm was hyperextended, tapping furiously on the mat, but her attacker just smiled and pulled harder.

Everywhere, fighters were locked in submission holds, contorted in brutal positions. Some of the holds were grotesque, the trapped fighters’ bodies twisted beyond their limits. The ones who tapped out were ignored—there was no relief, no release. Instead, their tormentors seemed to relish the pain, their eyes gleaming with a dark, twisted pleasure. The entire scene had an eerie, almost ritualistic feel to it, as if the dojo wasn’t just a place to train but a place to break down body and mind alike.

In the center of the mats, one fighter stood alone, her foot planted firmly on the back of her defeated opponent, who lay face down on the mat, trembling and broken. She wore the same uniform as the others, but there was something even more sinister in her gaze as she looked down at her prey, her black belt swaying gently as she pressed her heel into the downed fighter’s spine with deliberate cruelty.

Around the edges of the dojo, lanterns flickered, casting long shadows that danced across the walls, illuminating the Kraken-emblazoned banners and the twisted expressions of the fighters. The dojo was alive with violence, a brutal symphony of screams, cracking bones, and the rhythmic thudding of strikes against flesh. This was no ordinary dojo—it was a place where brutality was nurtured, and the fighters inside, shaped by Jenner’s twisted philosophy, had become something far more dangerous.

This was Strangled Depths, where the Kraken didn’t just symbolize power—it embodied the relentless cruelty and dark desires that lurked within each fighter. And for those inside, there was no escape from the depths.

[DeVir]

Je Sun Hee had begun to wonder if she hadn't made a serious mistake.

Dojos, dojangs, and training halls in Korea served as a second home to her. In many ways, she preferred them to what she had once called her home. Having spent so much time traveling in the past couple of years, she wished to find one here in Japan she could establish as a new home away from home when she wished to train in an environment different from LAW's headquarters, which could be... wild. She had kept an open ear to the word about those dojos in the area, and Strangled Depths (an overly indulgent name, yes) had reached her ear. She liked how it was described. "Rigorous." "Relentless." "Brutally honest." She liked to train in dojos for the exertion and the escape, and it sounded perfect.

The rules seemed simple enough. She had an outfit she was expected to wear, which wasn't out of the ordinary. A black gi, slim black shorts up to the hip, black gloves. They liked black here, but so did Hee. She had tied her black belt from Hwa Rang Do into the gi. The leg guards were the only item she didn't own since they needed to include the logo, and with the three ushers overlooking her (a bit grim, the three of them), Hee had strapped those on before beginning to enter. She had called early and asked for an opportunity to spar with one of the in-house masters to see where she stood, and though they didn't say much to acknowledge that she had indeed called and would have the spar she wanted, they loomed, trying to herd her more than lead her.

But they were not what had the savant's alarm bells ringing. The scenes within, however, did.

Two sparring in the corner, one ignoring the tap. She expected that more of a LAW spar, but she accepted that she didn't know the story. There might have been bad blood, but some senior here should have intervened nonetheless. It was only when she saw the same scene on the opposite side of the walk between the mats that she began to suspect something was amiss. Loose rules? Poor discipline? The focus was clearly on submission-based grappling, so it was also possible that they encouraged too much harshness. Or they afforded newcomers (inexperienced newcomers) too much of an opportunity to find themselves in over their heads. While all could have been reasonable explanations, Hee couldn't help but notice that the faces of those thriving weren't those of the undisciplined or clueless but of those enjoying themselves.

She knit her eyebrows. She had a temptation to leave, but as someone with experience (and something of a sense of justice), maybe she should investigate further.

They kept walking, Hee looking to them for an opportunity to stop. But they passed from the main room of the dojo into what appeared to be darker back hallways, and Hee glanced over her shoulder. "Are there more mat rooms in the back?" "Yes." Talkative. Hee's mouth twisted. "And one of your masters is willing to spar back here?" "Yes." Wow. She figured she knew where her next question would lead, but she tried anyway. "Do any masters oversee the sparring in the main room?" "If needed."

Hee thought it was needed...

As it was, one of them pushed her lightly on the shoulder to angle her toward a door. Hee glanced at her, letting her displeasure reach her features.

She should not have come here, she conceded, as one of them slid the door open.

[LawHell]

Jenner stood on the mats, her imposing presence accentuated by her black gi and skin-tight, revealing booty shorts. The fabric clung to her heavily muscular form, showcasing her impressive physique, while beads of sweat glistened on her skin, a testament to her exertion and dominance. Her blond hair, tied back, fell in wild strands that framed her face, accentuating her tattoos—marks of her journey and battles.

With a merciless smile, she unleashed a flurry of strikes against her opponent, clad in a red gi emblazoned with a rival dojo's logo. Each punch landed with a sickening thud, echoing off the walls as blood began to trickle from the opponent’s broken nose. The crowd of Strangled Depths fighters watched with twisted amusement, their faces lit by the flickering firelight that danced across the mats, casting long shadows that seemed to feed off the chaos.

The air was thick with anticipation as Jenner executed a flawless judo toss, sending her opponent crashing to the mat. Without missing a beat, she seized their arm, twisting it in a brutal Ude-Hishigi-Ashi-Gatame, a painful hold designed to inflict maximum damage. The crowd gasped as Jenner stomped down on her opponent’s skull with unrelenting force, each impact a stark reminder of her power.

All around, the fighters revelled in the spectacle of violence, their excitement palpable. Two fighters entwined off to the side were lost in their own world, kissing passionately, visibly turned on by the brutal display before them. Their bodies pressed together, feeling the heat of the dojo and the thrill of the fight, adding to the charged atmosphere.

As Jenner tightened her grip, she shifted to break the opponent’s arm with precise, calculated movements. The first snap resonated through the room—a sharp crack followed by a pained scream that echoed off the walls. Her opponent writhed, eyes wide with agony, but Jenner remained unfazed, her cold demeanor undeterred. She quickly transitioned to a Ude-Gatame, pushing the arm back at an unnatural angle before delivering another sickening snap that silenced the crowd momentarily, the tension thickening in the air.

The third break was met with desperate gasps and murmurs of approval from the fighters watching. Jenner's expression was unwavering as she executed the final, brutal twist, a horrifying crunch that reverberated through the dojo. The opponent's cries faded into desperate whimpers, their body trembling in agony as they surrendered to Jenner's might.

But Jenner wasn't finished yet. She released the shattered arm and, with a predator’s grace, wrapped her arms around her opponent's neck, transitioning into the Erotic Ezekiel Choke. Her grip was both teasing and constricting as she leaned in, whispering taunts that destabilized her opponent's resolve. The combination of physical dominance and psychological manipulation was intoxicating.

As her legs tantalizingly rubbed against her opponent's body, she tightened her hold, the choke becoming more fierce. Sweat glistened on both fighters as they struggled; Jenner exuded confidence and control, while the opponent gasped for breath, the life slowly draining from their consciousness. The dojo was eerily silent, save for the desperate sounds of the opponent's labored breaths.

With each passing moment, Jenner's hold grew more secure, her grip a blend of seduction and ruthless determination. She could feel the opponent’s strength waning, their struggles becoming weaker as she expertly balanced the line between brutality and seduction. Finally, with a swift motion, she ensured her opponent was completely unconscious, their body going limp beneath her as she released them.

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the soft sounds of her fighters, their eyes glinting with approval and a dark hunger that matched Jenner’s own. She stood over her defeated opponent, who lay bloodied and broken on the mat, the unmistakable mark of her dominance clear.

As Jenner surveyed the remaining fighters, she commanded, “Get out now, or I let my fighters have their way with you.” The threat hung in the air, and the remaining fighters fled, leaving only the echoes of their fear behind.

The dojo was quiet once more, save for the sound of rain pounding against the roof. Two loyal fighters approached the unconscious opponent, their movements respectful as they prepared to carry her away. Jenner watched with satisfaction, her body still glistening with sweat, the thrill of the fight invigorating her as she turned her attention to the newcomer who was pushed on to the mats—Je Sun Hee—who had been thrust into the chaos with the woman who had just been pure evil to a fighter.

With a smirk, Jenner stepped closer, her gaze locking onto Je Sun Hee with a predatory intensity. “Well, well,” she purred, her voice low and dangerous. “And who might you be? Did you come to see me break bone? Challenge me? Tell me.”

The tension in the air was thick as Je Sun Hee stood alone with Jenner, the shadows of the dojo closing in around them, leaving only the scent of sweat, blood, and unspoken challenges hanging in the air.

[DeVir]

Hee didn't find the back rooms any better.

She at first didn't process that there was another gristly scene. Lingering at the door, she peered in search of the person she was sent to meet before the ushering trio gave her enough of a bump to have her sighing and stepping inside at their behest. They lacked in manners what they lacked in tact on the mats, here. The savant continued in a slow trot until she comprehended (by way of glancing at belts) that the most senior martial artist in the room was the one on the mats, participating in the small spectacle. In other words, the one hurting the one individual dressed like she didn't belong among the rest. Hee sighed again and folded her arms over her chest.

If the main grounds of the dojo had encouraged her to find this master she was meant to spar and have a word about the discipline of those training here, the sight of the brutality on the mats burst that bubble. And had her wanting to leave again. But Hee was too dedicated a woman to simply depart without seeing through something she had begun, and she did still want to bring this up. This was foolish violence, not art. She could be intense on the mats herself, but she had never looked that pleased bringing that much hurt to an opponent. And if, as Westerners claimed, the eyes were the "windows to the soul," this master had one nasty soul.

It took her a great deal of discipline to remain still and silent while the mystery opponent fell unconscious, but she did. Only when the scene ended and the ushers bumped her in the back again did she speak up. "I do know how to walk. Arigato," she said over her shoulder, trying to dismiss them on her own. Whether they took her hint or had simply fulfilled their jobs, she didn't know, but they did start to depart with the rest of the room. Hee watched them leave with knit eyebrows and wandered onto the mats.

She found the woman waiting for her. Hee looked her over. She was taller and certainly heavier, but Hee had experience fighting much larger women. She might have been cute if not for that look on her face, but Hee was already soured on the entire circumstance here. It was evident on her face as she listened to the woman's words. This was so different from every other dojo she had attended. She wanted to ask that tactfully, but the woman already seemed prime for a fight.

In almost perfect English, she spoke. "I called a few hours ago about training and sparring with a master to get a feel for the... techniques and to know where I would stand among the fighters here. You're Jenner?" There was almost no doubt that she was, but she should ask anyway. If she was lucky, she was mistaken. "But I wonder if... this might be too different from where I've trained in the past."

[LawHell]

Jenner observed Je with a knowing smile, recognizing the flicker of disapproval in her eyes, the kind that newcomers often wore when they first entered her dojo. "Tell me," Jenner said, her tone almost teasing, "you saw my fighters before you reached this room, didn't you? You witnessed this match, and now you think we are nothing but uncaring aggressors, don't you?"

With that, she closed the distance between them, her smile never wavering. Jenner reached out and gently took Je's hand, leading her away without a hint of hesitation. They ascended a flight of stairs, moving past the intense gaze of fighters stationed at key points. These guards wore masks and held traditional weapons, their eyes fixed on Je, analyzing her movements as if appraising her worth. The atmosphere felt both tense and ritualistic, filled with unspoken challenges.

When they reached the top, two masked fighters respectfully opened the doors to reveal a smaller, dimly lit room—Jenner's private sparring space. Unlike the chaos of the main floor, this room had a more intimate setup, clearly designed for focused training. Jenner led Je to the center of the mats, the dim light casting long shadows that added an air of mystery to the space.

"So, you rang the bell, and here you are, face-to-face with the master of this dojo," Jenner said, her voice dripping with authority. "I am the only one in charge here; I do not share my power with anyone." She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing with a playful smirk. "You wish to spar with me? Good. But first, let me get a closer look at you."

Jenner guided Je to the center of the mats, circling her like a predator sizing up its prey. Her eyes roved over every inch of Je, assessing her stance, her posture, her readiness for what was to come. She seemed to take her time, letting the anticipation build before she spoke again. "Before we begin, you'll need to sign some paperwork," she said, her tone suddenly businesslike. "We'll shower—because you've been traveling, and I've been busy disciplining thugs. Then, we'll discuss your training and spend the night enjoying these mats. Does that sound agreeable to you?"

She placed her hand on Je’s arm, feeling the muscle density with a calculating touch, then moved her fingers to Je's thighs, noticing the distinct differences in her leg guards. "My, my, aren’t we bold?" Jenner remarked with a chuckle. "Let’s get cleaned up and deal with the documents, so we can move on to the more enjoyable parts."

With that, Jenner’s eyes glinted with a mix of curiosity and challenge, a silent promise that the real test was just about to begin.

[DeVir]

She had the right of it. Hee had her haunches raised and was too irked to be disquieted that Jenner could sense precisely what she was thinking, and she imagined quite a few people like her had the same opinion of this place, anyway. She wondered why, then, these antics were accepted if it were obvious to those within and those visiting that the violence was... noteworthy. Problematic.

Jenner didn't give her the chance to ask. The woman approached, and Hee stiffened, her hands forming fists. She wasn't so confident to think the woman wouldn't try to jump her after that display. But she... didn't. She reached for Hee's hand. The savant peered at it warily, but the woman's stance wasn't aggressive. That didn't mean she was comfortable taking it, but take it, she did. And they were leaving again before she knew it. The temptation to grumble that she had already been led around by the hand did strike her, but she let it go.

At least where they traveled seemed more appropriate for what Hee had requested. She hadn't intended any spars to be a public spectacle. But now that she had seen what went on in the main room, the isolation had her feeling suspicious. It wasn't that a fight in front of the rest of these... charming people would have been any more inviting, but she still lacked the whole picture. She eyed the blonde as they came to a halt, remaining entirely prepared to defend herself.

The woman liked to hear herself talk, she gathered. British by the sound of her. That by itself placed a question in her mind, but it was far down the growing list of questions. Hee, both in and out of her element, stood entirely calm while the woman decided she would "take a closer look." It reminded her of being back home in front of her father's hired attendants... but that was not at all a thought for the moment. Hee took Jenner's circling as an opportunity to vocalize some of those questions on her mind.

"Is everything I was seeing..." She searched for the best English word. "...encouraged? Are they the rules you put in place for the dojo?"

Before those questions could be answered, Jenner was... moving them to the showers. It wasn't unheard of; Jenner had just been fighting. Some grapplers didn't like to swap sweat between sparring partners. On the other hand, Hee didn't know why she was needing a shower. But the woman was also being courteous (moreso than Hee had been expecting), and while her eyebrows raised, she didn't shoot down the idea with immediacy. With her culture's similarly courteous sensibilities winning out, she slowly worked down her suspicions to the point of nodding.

"Thank you. That is a kind offer." The suspicion remained in her voice, but she tried to will it away, even as Jenner looked to be inspecting her gear. And calling her bold for it. This was a peculiar woman. "I shouldn't be showering long, so you can leave the paperwork for me if you prefer. Where are the showers?"

[LawHell]

Jenner smiled at Je as she led her into the room. The spacious area had soft mats covering the floor and multiple showerheads lining the walls. The room's dim lighting and the mist from the hot water created an intimate atmosphere, contrasting sharply with the intense fights witnessed earlier. Without breaking eye contact, Jenner stripped off her black gi and revealing shorts, every movement deliberate and slow, like a dance designed to draw attention. She stood there, completely bare, her muscular, tattooed body glistening with the remnants of sweat and blood from her last match, her toned arms and defined legs a testament to her power. Her pierced nipples stood out prominently, adding a provocative edge to her already striking appearance. A wicked smile spread across her lips.

"To answer your question," she purred, her tone both inviting and taunting, "every fight you've seen today follows a principle—both fighters agree to the terms, and then we let them loose. Here, we train to never hold back, even when we're bound by the rules. Take Valkery and Jaxs, for instance." She paused to step into the warm stream of water, turning her body slightly to let Je catch a glimpse of her toned form in motion. "They're actually on a date tonight—can you believe it?" Jenner laughed, a low, sultry sound that seemed to fill the room. "Valkery usually dominates with that armbar of hers, but that’s just the way they play, all in good fun."

As the hot water cascaded over her, highlighting the definition of her muscles and the intricate designs of her tattoos, Jenner continued, "But that woman you saw me dismantle earlier? She broke the rules, disrespected my dojo, and attacked my students—who were new fighters, just trying to join the dojo—outside these walls with weapons. They were sent to the hospital after a brutal ambush, all because her ego couldn't handle the idea of a fair fight. Then she had the nerve to demand a no-rules match against me, staking the ownership of my dojo on her win. Every time she lost, she begged for another round." Jenner smirked, her eyes narrowing as she leaned closer to Je, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper, "So, I made her pay for that insolence. And just so we're clear, you can't blame me, your opponent, for breaking your arm when you fail to tap out. Remember, darling, this dojo isn't about mercy—it's about knowing when to surrender."

As Jenner rinsed her hair under the hot water, a woman in a traditional kimono entered quietly. She laid out a fresh, high-quality uniform for Je, a tray of tea, and a small wooden box. The box contained several items meant to welcome Je into the dojo’s fold:

Wooden Box Contents

1. Matching Lipstick Shades: Jet black, dark metallic blue, and rich metallic purple to complement the nail polish options.

2. Scented Body Oil: A small vial infused with sandalwood and spices, designed to soothe and rejuvenate tired muscles.

3. Embroidered Silk Handkerchief: Featuring the dojo’s logo—a kraken coiled around a fighter, symbolizing control and dominance.

4. High-Quality Leg Guards: Adorned with the dojo's logo, signifying Je’s acknowledgment as part of the dojo’s ranks.

Inside the wooden box was also a leather-bound rule book, outlining the dojo’s code:

1. Respect Above All: Every member must respect their opponent, the dojo, and its principles. Disrespect will not be tolerated.

2. Brutality with Consent: All matches must be mutually agreed upon. Push your limits, but never without your opponent’s consent.

3. Submission is Sacred: If a fighter taps out, their opponent must immediately release them. Knowing your limits is a strength, not a weakness.

4. Challenge the Master Only When Ready: Any challenge to the master (Jenner) requires prior training with at least three senior fighters.

5. No Cowards, No Excuses: Injuries are part of the discipline here. Pain is your teacher; embrace it.

6. Iron Will Over Iron Body: True defeat lies in a broken spirit, not broken bones.

7. Honor All Pacts: Respect the terms you set. Breaking your word dishonors all who train within these walls.

The front of the rule book bore the dojo’s motto, translated into High Gothic English:

Dojo Motto: "Dominum per vim disciplinae." (Mastery through the force of discipline.)

As Jenner toweled off, she cast a flirtatious smile at Je, her eyes roaming over her form like she was already measuring her up for a fight. "Look," Jenner said, stepping close enough that the steam from the shower mingled between them, "we expect people to indulge in their dominance here. Every match is tailored to the desires of the fighters, but they must agree on the rules. So, if you step into the ring and say you want a no-rules, no-holds-barred match, you’d better be ready to own the consequences. You can’t blame me when I crush your spirit and your bones if you don’t know when to surrender."

With a wink and a sly grin, Jenner added, "And if you ever feel like testing yourself with the Iron Woman ruleset, well, darling, you'll have to prove you can handle it first."

She turned her attention back to the items in the box, pointing them out to Je one by one, "You’ve got the best of everything here—nail polish to match your mood, a scent to make you unforgettable, a uniform that’ll set you apart, and a rule book to keep you in line." Jenner’s fingers lingered teasingly on the uniform, tracing the fabric before she looked up at Je with a knowing smile. "Now, let's get you out of those travel clothes and into the shower. Once you're freshened up, we'll talk training and then test just how much you can handle on these mats."

A sheet of paper among the items, detailing her access to various dojo facilities along with a passcard:

Dojo Access List

1. Full Medical Care: From minor injuries like cuts and bruises to major surgical needs.

2. Chiropractic and Massage Therapy: Services to ensure peak physical condition.

3. Dojo Food Hall: Free, balanced meals to fuel intense training sessions.

4. Nail Salon Access: Regular nail care as part of the dojo’s grooming standards.

5. Accommodation Options: Rooms within the dojo for those needing a place to stay, allowing for uninterrupted training.

Jenner, still dripping slightly from the shower, flashed a sly smile as she moved closer, her hand lightly brushing Je’s arm, a teasing hint of dominance in her touch. "So, what do you say, Je? Ready to sign those papers and see if you’ve got what it takes to make it in my dojo?"

[DeVir]

And she was... stripping. If Hee needed confirmation for her mention that the woman was peculiar, she had it. She had seen her share of naked bodies, and Jenner obviously didn't care if she saw hers. But Hee rested her face against her fist and became intensely fascinated with the walls to her side to avoid staring. She had seen enough with the first glance to gather that Jenner could have graced the cover of a fitness magazine, anyway.

Ah. And she would hold their conversation while naked, too. Hee cursed every thought and sinew in her that had driven her to pick this place and make this trip today. This was all starting to tie her brain in knots, and the answer Jenner provided didn't help. While hearing that both competitors agreed to the terms didn't put her mind at ease since some competitors didn't know what they were signing up for, the savant's eyebrows raised at the mention that this was someone's idea of "play." She struggled to think if she was forgetting some English use of the word, but she doubted it. She meant "play" as in "enjoying each other."

"Is a hospital part of the play?" She couldn't tell herself if it was a genuine question or a sarcastic one, but it had hit her nonetheless.

The rest of the explanation did have some logic. Visitors from other dojos could be prideful to the point of foolishness. Hee held pride in her training, but it wasn't the type that often got her in any trouble. But the last part did have her thinking back on what she had seen on the way inside. She started to address it before the second woman's appearance nearly gave her a start. Hee bowed to her and cautiously opened the box. They were... gifts? Hee peered over them with curiosity, failing to notice that Jenner had stepped back toward her and was... there. In all her steamy heat and nudity. Hee's eyes wandered uncomfortably until she managed to let them settle on Jenner's face.

She answered Hee's question, but it still wasn't bringing the savant any comfort. Though that was likely because of the nudity more than anything in the moment. She looked away again.

She got the feeling that Jenner wanted her to do the same stripping and showering act in full view of the Brit, but Hee, a different creature, was not the same degree of exhibitionist. And she would like the shower time to give her the chance to mull all of this over. "Thank you. But... I'd prefer a more private shower if that's acceptable. If not, I did clean up before I came here."

[LawHell]

Jenner grinned as she watched Je struggle to keep her composure, clearly trying not to blush at the sight of the muscular woman before her. Jenner could see Je's eyes flicker, trying to avoid staring, and decided to address her question with honesty. "It's not that injuries are the aim here, Je," Jenner began, her voice smooth and controlled. She wrapped a towel around her dripping body, accentuating her powerful frame, her movements deliberately slow. Her toned muscles, covered in tattoos and glistening from the heat of the shower, seemed to ripple with every step as she gestured toward a part of the room that had a curtained-off shower area, allowing Je to shower privately but still listen.

"We understand that injuries are a very real part of fighting," Jenner continued, her eyes locking onto Je's, a serious expression crossing her face. "Accidents happen in the heat of a match, but there are some fighters who like to push things to the edge. And that's okay here -as long as both agree to those terms. We won't shame anyone for embracing the danger if they've both signed up for it. But there's always room for mercy, too. Like if you and I were in an Iron Woman match where the rules say I could ignore your tap-out and keep going until I broke your arm, it doesn't mean I have to. I could choose to honor your submission. Think of it like setting the maximum limits you're willing to go to; it's all about pushing to the edge but knowing that you can still pull back if you choose." She leaned in slightly, making sure that I understood her words, the soft her voice almost a challenge. "Mercy isn't weakness in this dojo-it's a choice."

Jenner took a seat on the bench, allowing Je her privacy as she showered. Her mind seemed to wander for a moment before she spoke again, her tone thoughtful. "I've got two things for you-a question and a request. First, would you consider putting on the dark blue nail polish? I think it would suit you." She grinned playfully, a spark of mischief in her eyes. "And second, why did you really come here? I get the feeling you had some gut instinct about this place, something that pulled you in. Maybe you're not sure of it yet, but I think you're here for more than just curiosity."

As Je continued to shower, two attendants approached Jenner-one meticulously applying a new coat of nail polish to her feet, the other handing her a report with an air of deference. They worked quietly, their eyes occasionally flicking to Jenner, who remained seated on the bench, observing Je's movements with a knowing smile. When Je returned, the attendants bowed deeply, first to Jenner and then to Je, before slipping out of the room in silence.

Jenner stood up, her movements deliberate as she dressed. She slipped into her skin-tight black booty shorts that hugged her muscular legs and glutes, her gi loosely draped over her torso, left slightly open to reveal a hint of her bare chest and the glint of her pierced nipples. She took her time tying the belt around her waist, her fingers brushing over the fabric in a way that seemed almost ritualistic, then slipped on her foot guards and tied her hair back. She finished by sliding on her gloves, each action performed with the precision of a fighter ready for battle.

Her eyes gleamed with a teasing light as she looked Je's way. "Oh, and one more thing," Jenner said with a wicked grin, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "I'd love to pin you down in the split lock, lick your neck bite your ear, and ride you until you're either screaming or panting- maybe both." She smeared on a layer of dark lipstick, the color matching her nails, as she watched Je's reaction, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

Standing up, Jenner's gaze lingered on Je as she walked toward the mats, her shorts doing little to hide the power and definition of her legs and backside. The way her gi parted slightly revealed just enough of her chest to keep Je's attention. She looked over her shoulder with a sly smile. "Come on, Je. Sign those papers, get dressed-oh, and a little tip, maybe skip the underwear. They tend to ride up painfully during the sparring." With a wink, she blew Je a kiss, then gave her own firm backside a playful slap as it had some recoil to it, laughing as she sauntered toward the mats.

Her voice turned slightly more serious but no less inviting, "We've got an Iron Woman spar lined up, and I want to see just how much you're willing to give. No rules, darling-just raw skill and willpower. So, what do you say, Je? Are you ready to embrace the opportunity or are you going to run?" Jenner's words hung in the air like a challenge, daring Je to make her move.