Hentai Pop Quiz: Ms. Spencer vs. Arlise Christiaens

[Winter]

Maybe Arlise should avoid the obvious before she considered how to bait Muriel into complacency - if such a thing could be done.

Perhaps she no longer possessed the energy to "avoid the obvious." She lingered on her side, giving the many ailments all across her shapely body a chance to stop panging from the landing. By the time she believed she could rise without something screaming at her in full-throated complaint - mere seconds, really - Muriel had already risen and shook the ring around her. Arlise started to turn onto her back and mount a defense, but she found her legs tangling around Muriel's, who stood between them. The redhead gasped her panicked and turned back over in hopes of scrambling away, but this offered both meaty gams to the teacher on a platter.

Arlise clawed the canvas with her nails, but so familiar with submissions herself, she could feel it happening, perfect step by perfect step - her legs getting folded over her own ass, coiled together, and pulled beneath Muriel's arm. She had her cheek pinned to the canvas in fearful expectation before the other middleweight settled into the hold. Then, the pressure strained her knees, her ankles, her hips, and her lower back. "AAAAAAGH!" she cried before she silenced herself, her body tearing into helpless pawing.

God, it hurt. She started to clutch at her head before her hands balled into fists. She couldn't... stay in this long. Her legs burned with misery, and she knew something would give way before long - and it would not be Arlise herself giving in to tap. She tilted her eyes, looking for the ropes. They seemed... impossibly far, but she tried to convince herself that she could achieve them.

The crowd, torn between the sight of her beautiful legs contorted and wanting to support her rally, tore into greater cheers as she dragged herself the first eight inches on her elbows, wishing her neck didn't hurt and her shoulders didn't hurt... and that her breasts didn't weigh her down. She stifled her moans, doing everything she could do put the pain at a distance and focus on her escape.

[BlackAkuma]

The right cross of the legs, the proper application of pressure, enough elevation and a good stance to maintain balance.

Yes, Muriel believed she had ticked all the boxes for a good sharpshooter. It had been a good while since she pulled this move out of her repertoire, a testament to how dangerous of an opponent she was finding Arlise to be. She had to break out her best weapons to put the woman down, and she hoped her foe appreciated that. It might be hard for her to have that perspective now, when it likely felt that her legs were being pulled out of their sockets, but still…

Muriel milked the hold for a few more seconds, only to drop it abruptly before Arlise even made it halfway to the ropes. Something she would not have done in any standard match, but here, her goal was to give the woman pleasure, and hurting her too much would’ve been counterintuitive. She needed her pliant but functional, and she felt the woman was at such a point.

She flipped the woman over on her back and dropped down to sit on her waist, taking a moment to settle in as she pinned her foe down. ”Apologies for being so rough with you, Ms. Christiaens. A necessary evil.” She ran a soft hand across Arlise’s chest, giving her breasts a gentle stroke. ”Allow me to make it up to you.”

Before that, however, it was getting a bit stuffy in here, wasn’t it? Muriel’s hands went to the hem of her shirt, gave it a good tug, and peeled it off her sweaty body, exposing the more racy attire she wore underneath, much to the crowd - and Arlise’s, she would imagine - approval.

[Winter]

Arlise felt certain that this hold could pull skinnier legs out of their sockets.

Hers bent far enough to agonize her from the middle of the spine down to her toes with aching, vibrating pains, and she considered her lower body her most resilient feature. She felt the ghost of the earlier ankle lock haunting her, too, and it became an all-consuming misery that she could only crawl away from in hopes of escape. It seemed the clearest route - she dared not think what Muriel could conjure if Arlise became entirely too clever in her escape. So she ran away from the problem, one shifting elbow at a time.

The woman freed her. Arlise's whole body seemed to exhale alongside her audible and raspy sigh of relief, everything flopping back into its normal shape. Briefly, she wondered what in the world the teacher could have thought, but she all too quickly remembered. Right... Arlise's agony did not bring her any closer to victory. The woman merely desired to tame her with enough holds to strip away her defenses. With the way Arlise's lower back and the ligaments in her legs felt - joining her neck and shoulders to form a bodysuit of pain - she might succeed.

Still, the Belgian beauty attempted to defend herself once she thought she could reach her knees. Muriel acted before she made it that far, knocking her onto her back. Arlise might have lifted her hands to defend herself, but she knew better now than to think idle swinging at the woman would accomplish anything against a wrestler of Muriel's stature. The woman sat on her, and Arlise... wished she had it in her legs to reach up and hook a calf around the woman's neck. She knew... she couldn't reach. Not with her legs somewhere between numb and aching. She had no options.

But Muriel's groping hand wiped that problem from Arlise's head. The woman's stripping off her top made Arlise forget the options altogether.

She stared, agape, at the meager strips of material still covering the woman's curvy, sweat-slick torso, and it took her balling her fists not to rub her fingers across the woman's abs, or... or worse. Any other time... any other place...

Arlise... had to think of something. Her head threatened to sink below the waves into wanting whatever Muriel had in store for her... and she knew it.

[BlackAkuma]

From a strategic standpoint, this was pure folly. Muriel had her opponent on the floor, helpless, pinned, open to all manner of attack, and the wisest, most prudent move would’ve been to go in for the attack, pin Arlise down while she was vulnerable, and work the woman to a quick orgasm. The competitor in her screamed, demanded she take action, and there was a time where she would’ve listened.

But, as Rumble Roses had taught her, part of the appeal of pro wrestling and hentai wrestling, in particular, was that both parties could get something out of it, that both parties could win, in a sense. It wasn’t enough to just force a quick victory out of the Belgian, no - she had to do it sexily. With style.

As she peeled her shirt off, she felt she accomplished that. There was the crowd’s reaction, whooping and yelling in support, but she paid them little heed. Instead, she kept her eyes focus on Arlise and took her responses, seeing that she was well and truly enraptured. This beautiful woman, brimming with muscle, a testament to the female form, looked at Muriel like some divine entity, with a mix of wonder and awe.

Needless to say, it worked wonders for Muriel’s ego. With Arlise hobbled, she wagered there was more than enough time to indulge. Let the Mistress out.

”Do you see something you like, Ms. Christiaens?” She lowered, taking her time, settling in on Arlise with her thigh pressing against the woman’s most intimate spot. She moved with a warmness, as if the two were long-time lovers and not opposing wrestlers who’d only known each other for ten or so minutes, wrapping her arms around the woman’s neck and pulling her close.

”Is there something you wish to say? Something you wish to do, perhaps?” She brought their lips close, almost daring Arlise to close the gap with a kiss.

[Winter]

That Muriel proved so frustratingly inaccessible heaped more coals onto Arlise's fire, the redhead surprisingly learned.

She did not mean inaccessible sexually, far from it. The woman, clearly showing off, looked down upon Arlise's wandering eyes with pride. The Belgian beauty continued to want to explore the soft hills and valley of muscle before her, but she knew once she gave into outright worship, any plan she had to hold onto composure long enough to compel the blonde's guard to drop failed before she even attempted it. No, Muriel proved all too accessible, with the familiar thigh nestling between her own pair and the woman pulling her so closely that the temptation for Arlise to take the initiative and pepper kisses along what must have been a sweet but salty jawline and neck proved almost unbearable.

But Muriel settled directly over her, and Arlise could only see her eyes. They proved enough, certainly, and the redhead had to resist the urge to buck up against the woman's thigh. She just needed... time. Time. A few more seconds to think of a way to... do what? She didn't know. She didn't...

No, she did. Arlise suddenly realized exactly what she wanted, and... God, while she didn't know what anyone would think of her for asking for it - begging for it - it offered her a window, too. She had to gamble with her consciousness to have so much as a single opportunity, and her legs needed a few more seconds to recover... but maybe she could make it that far. But it would only work if Muriel felt bold enough to take the bait.

Seemingly suddenly overcome with passion instead of passivity, reached up, took Muriel by the neck, and pulled them together for a kiss. Arlise's talented lips met with one of the best sets she could remember tasting in... quite some time, and it took effort to avoid losing herself in it, especially with the tension against her crotch. She stopped a touch short of what she wanted - a French kiss that would have made her neighbors proud - and looked up into Muriel's eyes, pleading.

"Sit... sit on my face."

[BlackAkuma]

This kiss was expected.

After all, the two of them were in the perfect position for it; their bodies perfectly aligned, meshing together so well. Muriel sighed as she slid into place with Arlise and felt the woman’s form beneath her. Brimming with power, so strong yet so supple, powerful yet pleasing. Even cowed, the redhead’s thighs were rife with untapped power, putting Muriel’s to shame with both their size and their hardness. It felt as if her leg was nestled between slabs of marble.

The look in Arlise’s eyes told her the kiss was coming, and she welcomed it as the woman wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her in for one of the most sensuous embraces Muriel had ever experienced. The lips met and fire a sparked between them, with Muriel savoring the honeyed taste of her foe’s lips. Soft and inviting, with a touch that drew her in but was never insistent. She moaned into the woman’s mouth as something erupted within her. A hungry, ravenous thing that wanted to do so many things with the beauty beneath.

It was brief, but that only made it so much better, as Muriel had to sit with her cravings. She was tempted, sorely, to dive back in and lay claim to the woman’s lips once more, to take all the kisses either of them could stomach. She was winning, she could be greedy.

But then Arlise had to go and suggest something more tantalizing. It was simply not in Muriel’s nature to deny her.

She ran her tongue over the Belgian’s cheek, a playful lick, then pressed their forehead together, so close that her every word spewed heat into Arlise’s mouth. ”As you wish.”

She would give the woman what she wanted, but first, she needed to take care of something. While she knew some liked, even preferred jeansitting, Muriel wasn’t in the mood for that with her. No, she wanted to feel as much of Arlise’s beautiful face as possible. Therefore, her shorts had to go, post-haste.

She stood up and made a show of it, of course, popping the button, sliding the zipper down, working them down her thighs. The audience greatly appreciated the sight, looking on with breathless awe as she revealed the attire underneath, a tight multi-stringed affair that left precious little to the imagination. Her little striptease wasn’t for them, however - no, the only one she sought to entice was the woman below her, with whom she never broke eye contact.

Muriel kicked the shorts aside, turned to face her foe’s legs, and gave her a moment to admire the ass above her head, giving her a full view while she loomed there. ”Take a deep breath, Ms. Christiaens.” That was the only warning Muriel gave before she dropped down into a sit, settled over her foe’s face, and let the cheeks slide over her features, creating a perfect, fleshy seal and taking away all the woman’s light. She bit her lip and crooned at the sensation, then reached forward to take Arlise’s breasts in each hand, idly fondling them as she began to work her hips back and forth.

She had never before felt like so much of a goddess.

[Winter]

Arlise begged her body not to give into what she had just explicitly asked Muriel to do to her.

Her mind held desperately to the vision as strategy in spite of her wants and desires. Of course, those wants and desires had no intention of finishing in second place. They flared to new heights as Muriel’s tongue lapped at her cheek, then flared again as she watched the woman stand over her prone body. The redhead would have struggled to hold onto an ounce of composure if the woman had simply swung around and planted those Daisy Dukes on her face, but somehow, Muriel found another way to whet Alrise's appetite.

The redhead watched it all, feeling herself slipping. As Muriel popped the button, the Belgian beauty's thighs mashed together. As she unzipped, her hands balled together on her stomach. When she started scooting out of her bottoms - difficult with those curvy hips the Belgian ate with her eyes - Arlise's own thighs rubbed together. All the while, she looked as if the two of them were already enjoying each other, and neither of them touched. But Arlise... Arlise could feel the strength in her legs returning. Only that anchored her to the idea that this remained a match.

The anticipation built, and Arlise stared up at the ass above her like she had wandered starving in the desert for days. She almost forgot herself - Muriel's words served as a reminder. As the blonde dropped, Arlise sucked in a breath and raised her hands as if they could stop such a peach from swallowing her face. She felt the heat of the teacher's cheeks on her cheeks first, and one by one, the rest settled into place, leaving Arlise's nose and mouth becoming acquainted with that faintly damp strip of cloth. Her eyes found nothing but darkness, leaving the only sign of Arlise her hair scattered across the mat beneath the blonde.

"Mmmmph...", came the pitiful, scintillated sound from Arlise's throat as the woman smothered her, and the Belgian's hands balled into fists before the fingers hungrily dug into the inviting curves of Muriel's hips. The woman began grinding her, bringing Arlise intimate tastes of every inch of the woman that the redhead could ever hope to taste, and Arlise moaned in rhythm with the movements. Emotions pulled her a dozen different ways, some she could not and would not take the time to recognize, but she recognized two clear thoughts in the din - the woman knew how to sit on a face, and Arlise had to - had to - act when she felt even the tiniest sign that Muriel had leaned forward.

Because, as soon as the woman took two handfuls of Arlise's heavy breasts and began massaging, the writhing redhead knew that either she would pass out from the seal or that ball of pleasure welling between her legs would explode without the woman so much as grazing her between the legs.

...But she... she had a thought. Arlise, starting to sound desperate anyway as the woman's sweet, smothering cheeks stole more and more of her breath, tapped eagerly on Muriel's thigh and hoped she would show her mercy. Please, lean forward.

[BlackAkuma]

While many might think that this was a first-time experience for Muriel, Rumble Rose fans would recall that this was, in fact, not the first time that she had brought her posterior down on an opponent’s face, not even counting the numerous times she had done so since she left that company. No, her first experience would be against Anesthesia during a heated humiliation match, as an act of revenge for the faux nurse doing the same to her prior.

She still recalled the feeling quite vividly - the thrill of settling along Anesthesia's face, the tingle when her screams echoed through her body. It was pleasant in a way she had not then experienced, and it certainly awakened feelings that she would only expand on later—an all-around satisfying venture.

And then, as punishment, Anesthesia was forced to dance in a bunny suit. Some of the things management made them do during Rumble Roses’ waning days baffled her, even to this day.

However, she was brought back to that wondrous experience, only amplified by sharing it with a woman she found exceedingly pleasant. She savored her opponent’s struggles, reveling in her cries, and her fingers roamed along her chest with a wanton hunger. Oh, the things they could do with a little more time and the right tools…

But for now, they were here, and she would make the best of the situation. She enjoyed a soft laugh as the Belgian tapped on her thighs, looking for some small measure of mercy. After, Muriel couldn't win with a knockout at this point, and she wasn’t so crass as to make an unconscious woman orgasm, so it behooved her to keep Arlise awake. Relatively.

Muriel lifted up and leaned forward, as one hand slipped away from her breast and found a far more tantalizing target between her legs. Down there, she started with slow and steady strokes, her fingers threatening to slip between the shadows at any moment. ”A noble effort, Ms. Christiaens, but I’m afraid you don’t quite make the grade. Some personal tutoring might be required.” She licked her lips at that suggestion, curious to know what Arlise would make of it. ”Any last words?”

[Winter]

Even tapping filled Arlise with wanton lust.

The surrender in the act represented everything Arlise would have wanted… anywhere else but the LAW arena. Muriel had struck a litany of the redhead’s chords, and she continued to find new chords. The rhythmic grinding atop Arlise’s face, warm cheeks to warm cheeks, served as the latest one, and she almost sank into disappointment knowing that her meager clap on the teacher’s thigh would bring that experience to an end… perhaps permanently. But Arlise continued to grip the one tether that kept her from sinking into her old, lustful habits, even while the tapping hand continued to grip on Muriel’s thigh in an intimate massage.

She sucked in a deep breath when the other middleweight freed her from her ass, and she peered at it intently as she took the few seconds needed to… revive herself and realign her thoughts. Muriel’s hand moving to the sensitivity between her legs further gripped at her mind, leaving her to moan warm breaths against the blonde’s rear and slither atop the mat, alternating between pushing into the woman’s touch and pulling away from it with each passing second. For a moment, so caught up in the sweet sensations and the view, she forgot the entire scheme.

When it came back to her, her eyes flew wide, seeing the latest problem. That arm could… block her. But the teacher had leaned forward, her guard seemed down… and Arlise had trapped many an arm alongside a head in her scissorholds, too. She simply hoped she had the leg strength remaining.

And the good sense. Her heart beat out of her chest with every movement of Muriel’s fingers, and the woman’s sweet words worked as capably as the fingers. But she balled up her fists and desperately shut it all out, using the sound of the crowd as an anchor. All clever words had left her, but she would not let the opportunity for a retort pass.

“Don’t... fail me yet.”

They served as a reminder to herself and a plea to the blonde before both hands shoved violently at the middle of Muriel’s back, and at the same time, her legs both swung high, looking to trap the woman’s head and arm between her meaty adductors and pull her down into oblivion.

[BlackAkuma]

Muriel had been here before. In her dreams.

Not with Arlise specifically, mind you. But she had many a time dreamt of a scenario much like this, sitting atop a certain beautiful redhead, dominating her, keeping her under control while she drove her wild from above. She didn’t want to turn the Belgian into some sort of stand-in for Ms. Welsh, but the similarities were undeniable, and there was no ignoring its effect on her. As Emily Dickinson so eloquently put it, ‘the heart wants what it wants’. Right now, hers craved Arlise most fiercely.

She was close to having her, too, as her probing fingers slipped their way into the woman’s garments and began to stimulate her. She could feel how her opponent’s body reacted, the quickening of her heart and her tensing muscles, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she won this match - and not much time at all, if she had to guess.

Muriel learned precisely how wrong she was when those legs - those beautiful, delicious, deadly legs - shot up with renewed life and wrapped their way around her head and an arm, closing tight and pulling her into a powerful hold. She tried to resist it, but a combination of surprise and sheer force was more than she could overcome, and there was no struggle against it.

She went down, hard, crashing on her back as Arlise’s legs continued to close in. Though she tried to fight her way out of the hold, she wasn’t getting anywhere, leaving her to wriggle about like a worm caught on the hook. The only saving grace was that the hold afforded her a fantastic view of the redhead’s backside, but given her current situation, there was no time for her to enjoy it.