Leather or Lace? - Avery Merritt vs. Beast

[BlackAkuma]

Beast had only just met Avery, but he was already forming a picture of her, a model of the woman he was dealing with. He would never tell Beauty as much, but she reminded him a good deal of her - the same confidence, the same strength, the same domineering power. She was a woman who liked when she was in control of things and hated to cede that control, for any reason. If they hadn't been so similar, he suspected there was a chance she and Beauty could even get along.

Also, like his mistress, she didn't seem to like taking pain all that much. She could, but the venom etched in her face as she glared back at him spoke of someone who was far more accustomed to dishing it out than taking it.

With that in mind, her reaction to what came next was hardly surprising.

Beast’s arms clapped tight around her and pulled her against his taut chest, straining as he lifted her off the canvas. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, she had a solid body with no small amount of weight to it, but he spread his feet, braced, and made it happen, locking in and pouring on the pressure. He didn’t have to wait long for the fruits of his labor, either - screams, squealing, squirming, all of it. She went into a fit as his forearms dug into her spine, encroaching on her flesh and tenderizing her bones.

It was his turn to smile, now, and he looked over to Beauty and saw she was doing much the same. That was all the approval he could’ve asked for, and he couldn't resist throwing in a taunt of his own.

Beast looked back her way and brought his face near hers, whispering. ”You said something about putting me on a leash?”

[RockRye]

The bearhug only grew tighter, and Avery could feel the pressure eating away at every shred of composure she had left. Her core, sculpted and tough from endless training and past battles, clenched against the crushing force, but it wasn’t enough. Her spine bent, her ribs groaned, and her arms flailed for something, anything, to halt the encroaching pain. Her powerful legs kicked weakly in the air, her heels thudding against Beast’s sides with no effect.

“Ghh–nnngh! A-ahhh! Hhhhkk–!” the sounds tore from her throat like they didn’t belong to her, each one forced out between clenched teeth and tightening lungs. Her face twisted, eyes wide, mouth falling open as the agony in her back and midsection bloomed and spread. For all her bravado, for all the power packed into her compact, muscular frame, this was something else entirely. She had practiced bearhugs. She had endured them from women her size. But this? This was a punishment. Her body bowed in his arms, chest shaking from the force as her limbs spasmed involuntarily.

And then his voice dripped that sarcastic venom into her ear.

Her eyes burned as much as her lungs did. That mocking, smug tone. How dare he-

Avery’s pride shattered like glass. Her hands shot to his shoulder, slapping against it, once, twice, ten times, furiously. She couldn’t take it anymore. The pain. The humiliation. The fact that she couldn’t breathe. She had to make it stop.

The ref’s voice rang out, “Submission! One-nil, Beast!”

And Avery gasped in sweet, desperate relief, only for it to wither in an instant. The pressure didn’t stop.

Her eyes went wide with confusion. Her fingers clawed at the air, her legs kicking more violently now. “What—What the hell?!” she rasped, remembering a moment later that the fall was scored but the clock still ran. She hadn’t won freedom. Tapping hadn’t saved her. It had just made her a point on his scoreboard.

A spike of panic cut through her, a gasp catching in her throat as her ribs screamed beneath the strain. Her whole body twisted in desperation, chest heaving, face a picture of disbelief and rage. That moment of powerlessness burned deeper than the pain. And in that core of fury, something else snapped into place. Her panic became fuel.

As Beast squeezed the life from her, drunk on dominance, crack!, Avery slammed her forehead into his with a headbutt born of sheer fury and survival. She shoved her palm into his face with a snarl, pushing him back just far enough. Her hips twisted upward, and her thighs snapped around his ribs with punishing force. All the strength in her legs, those meaty, powerful limbs sculpted by years of grueling matwork, clamped down like a bear trap, ankles locking with a snap as her waist torqued with precision. Her glare burned into him as the bodyscissor cinched in.

If he wanted to see what it felt like to be leashed, he was about to learn.

[BlackAkuma]

Beauty was a sadist, and she wouldn’t shy away from that description. She took pleasure from the pain of others—physical, mental, sometimes even spiritual—and she had always found it to be a fulfilling experience, particularly when the people in question had such treatment coming, which they often did in her estimation. She preferred to get her hands dirty and dig in herself. Liked to induce the suffering with her own hands and not be a spectator.

But with Beast, that was an exception. God, did she love watching her man work.

She supposed, in a way, it wasn’t any different than using a whip on victims. After all, Beast was her tool to manipulate. He was subject to her whims, so any damage he did was, by proxy, coming from her. Maybe that was what made scenarios like this so satisfying, as she watched Beast’s arms fold Avery over backwards, forcing out so many wonderful sounds. He was doing it at her behest. She might as well have been crushing the bitch herself.

There was only one way this could’ve been more satisfying, and she was gifted with that when Avery finally gave in, tapping away like the feeble fake she was. One point for Beast, the first of many, and this match was hardly a minute old. Needless to say, Beauty was pleased.

That sensation lasted for precisely five more seconds. That was all the time it took for Avery to gather herself, find her strength and-

Beast’s cry echoed through the arena as the blonde roared back to life and rammed their skulls together, striking with a vicious headbutt. It only bought her a moment, but that moment was more than enough for her to wrap those thick legs around his waist, clasp her thighs, and make her legs swell up to a nearly ridiculous sigh, one that even made Beauty’s eyes widen. They took on a hardness worthy of the woman’s namesake, and now it was Beast’s turn to wail in agony.

He tried to hold onto the bearhug for a couple of seconds before his instincts won out and his hands went to pathetically paw at her thighs instead, trying to pry them off in a futile gesture. His legs gave way next, and he fell to his knees as she amped up the pressure, and her arched his back with a silent scream, as if he couldn't even find the air to make proper noises.

Beauty’s smile had faded, replaced with a snarling grimace as she clenched her fists. He wouldn’t dare submit. He wouldn’t dare.

[RockRye]

The headbutt was ugly. Brutal. Beneath her, in some sense. Avery had always prided herself on technique, on grace sharpened into lethality. She wasn’t a brawler, she was a specialist. But in that moment, with her lungs still aching from the bearhug and the taste of defeat like ash on her tongue, the crack of bone on bone was necessary. She had to break through him. She winced from the jolt even as it landed, the flash of pain in her own skull a reminder that no part of this fight would be clean. She’d make sure, of course, that the LAW fans knew she had been forced into such a measure. Her own fans would forgive a moment of savagery. They’d spin it into a testament of her will. They always did.

And Beast… he didn’t let go. Not right away. Even through the daze of the blow, he clung to her, arms still locked, not in dominance anymore but something closer to stubborn defiance. Avery grimaced and reached for her head with one hand, fingers brushing through her golden hair as if to soothe the jolt radiating through her skull. Her breath came in short, hot puffs.

But her thighs still snapped into place, and Avery grinned.

She felt everything. The way his ribcage compressed against her inner thighs, the way his spine arched in sudden distress. She flexed her legs just slightly, grinding the pressure in with cruel efficiency. It was exquisite. Her abs tightened, chest rising and falling with renewed power as she took in the sight of him suffering between her thighs.

“That’s more like it,” she whispered, her voice honeyed with satisfaction.

His hands scrambled to her thighs, gripping, clutching, pleading for mercy without a word. His fingers dug into the muscle, trying to pry her off, and that only made her pulse with triumph. He couldn’t break the hold. He was inside it now. Her body was his cage. She watched him stagger and finally drop to his knees, breath escaping him in ragged gasps. Avery didn’t fall with him. No, she rode him down, hands gripping his shoulders at first, then sliding back to brace against the mat behind her. Her palms pressed down, elbows bending as she let her full body flex, legs tightening with the cold precision of a vice. Her core curled and crunched, muscles rippling under the lights as she crushed inward. Her face contorted, not in pain, but focus. A woman possessed. Vengeful.

"You made me tap," she murmured, loud enough for him to hear over his labored breath. "Now feel what it means to suffer."

And with that, her thighs pulsed again, deadlier than ever.

[BlackAkuma]

Beast was going to tap out.

He would fight it, of course. He had to, for appearance’s sake. The last time he’d tapped out had been in a brutal battle, ages ago, one that had pushed him to his limits and tested him in ways he never thought possible. That was a high standard to live up to, and since then, he’d never considered submitting again. He’d never had a reason. No opponent had come close to the one who had made him, no one had measured up, and that was a standard he wanted to set.

More importantly, it was a record that Beauty wanted to keep. After all, she was the one who’d made him tap in the first place.

But, as much as he loathed the thought, he didn’t seem much of a way around it at this juncture. The pressure was simply too much, and his body was desperate for any reprieve. He didn’t have to look towards Beauty to know that she was glaring at him, silently demanding that he find some way out of this hold, but there was simply no option. The ropes were too far away, and he doubted he could get to them before she ground his ribs into a fine powder.

Avery whispered his way, pulsed her thighs even harder than before, and that was all he could take - he tapped. And tapped. And tapped.

Thankfully, that would only count as one point for Avery. Less thankfully, this match was designed so that she wouldn’t have to let go of the hold, which meant that Beast’s suffering was far from over. Even so, that didn’t mean he would kneel there and languish when he could at least attempt an escape. The first step to anything would be getting back on his feet, and that was what he focused on for the moment.

Beast sucked in as much oxygen as he could with his flattened lung and started to push his way up, planting one foot on the canvas and then another, until he was standing - or, rather, lurching. It wasn’t a huge improvement, but it was better than taking it on the ground.

[RockRye]

She felt it before she heard it, the frantic tapping, his palm slapping with growing desperation that echoed louder between them than any bell. Her eyes flared wide with pleasure, and her back arched instinctively as the ref’s voice rang out, firm and clear:

“Submission! Avery evens the score—one to one!”

Avery’s head fell back with a sharp, breathless laugh, one part triumph, one part release. The ache in her midsection from his crushing bearhug still lingered, a smoldering reminder of the punishment she had endured, but the rush of domination dulled it for now. Her arms trembled slightly, still braced on the mat, pushing her chest high and proud, the cords of her shoulders and biceps tight from effort. Her legs, wrapped around Beast’s waist, gave one final pulse of pressure, spiteful and smug.

“Not so high and mighty now, are we?” she taunted, her voice lapping at the taste of victory, even as her abs tensed again in pain. She had almost formed a narrative of her own with her banter, and she preferred it that way.

She almost let go. Almost. Her body started to relax, caught up in the ecstasy of payback and the intoxicating sound of the ref’s call. It was instinctual, forgetting momentarily that the match didn’t demand she release him. But the thought caught her just in time, and her legs squeezed tighter with renewed spite.

The pain from his earlier bearhug echoed across her ribs like a bruise she hadn’t earned, fueling her with the need to own this moment a little longer. Her hips shifted, rising slightly as she braced higher on her hands, flexing for the cameras, her body powerful and statuesque in motion. Beast began to move beneath her, trying to rise, and she held fast, at least for now.

But holding this awkward position risked more than it was worth, and Avery was many things, but a fool wasn’t one of them.

With a final squeeze of her thighs, she released the scissor and dropped to her backside with a firm thud on the mat, catching her breath and letting gravity give her a brief moment of composure. Her fingers splayed behind her to brace her weight as she tilted forward again. Her hands shot forward to grab at his leg, just above the ankle, and her body began to rise. Her footing wasn’t perfect, but her grip was purposeful, and she started maneuvering with intent, seeking the angle, the balance, the twist to throw him on his back and capture the leg for anything she could lock in: an ankle lock, a single-leg crab, anything that hurt.

[BlackAkuma]

Pathetic. Utterly pathetic.

A cold chill came over Beauty as she watched from the sidelines, knowing what was about to happen but dreading it all the same. She knew because she had been in a similar situation countless times, from Avery’s side of the equation. She had trapped plenty of hapless morons between her legs before, enough times to know how things would go - the pain had a way overriding common sense. There were avenues that Beast could take, methods he could’ve tried, but having your body crushed by a pair of strong legs took away your ability to see any of it. It was like taking the worst punch possible in the stomach from a heavyweight boxer, and having him keep the fist in after the impact.

He tapped. Of course he tapped. And, of course, the blonde bitch let out the most irritating, ignoble laugh Beauty had ever heard, as if she had the match won and the next eight or so minutes were a formality.

If she could switch places with Beast, if only for a minute…

No. She pushed that thought out of her mind, knowing her place had to stay on the outside of the ring and her thoughts needed to stay in the moment. She would punish Beast, extensively, when this match was over, but for now she needed to help him see things through.

She planted her palms on the apron, leaned forward, and hissed into the ring. ”Get. Up.”

She was unsure whether Beast heard her or not, but he complied with her order all the same, rising up and bringing Avery along for the ride. She couldn't say for sure, but she guessed he planned to ram her into the nearest turnbuckle and shake her off—a good idea, in theory. In practice, however, he wasn’t so fortunate.

He had only just straightened up when Avery abruptly aborted the hold, dropping down at his feet. A vulnerable position, but Beast was in too much pain to make anything out of it - the sudden release of her bodyscissor would make his organs and ribs expand all at once, hurting almost as much as the move itself. Her lurch forward, and she seized the moment by grabbing hold of his leg, tripping him up, and rising up as he fell down.

A deadly position, and Beast knew it. Panicking, he tried to pull her with his legs, then kick her away hard, hoping to make some distance before she could transition into whatever move she had in mind.

[RockRye]

Avery had just started to risef, her hands reaching for Beast’s ankle to begin twisting it into a cruel little knot, when she heard the voice from ringside cut through the heavy air. Avery’s head turned slightly, a flicker of sweat-slicked blonde hair brushing her cheek as her lip curled into a breathless smile. Oh, she was chirping. Beauty's voice, sharpened with demand. Even in the midst of her breathy exertion, Avery felt a flicker of delight shiver up her spine. How precious. Beauty, shouting commands like she was part of this. Like her voice alone could resurrect her darling Beast from underneath Avery’s dominance.

Avery made a mental note as sharp as a dagger: do not let that one off the hook. The match had been too wild and grueling early on for Avery to give Beauty the attention she deserved, but now? Now that she’d evened the score? Now that the camera had a reason to linger?

Oh, she was going to have so much fun with that one.

“Still hoping he’ll save face for you?” she called toward the ropes, her tone syrupy and saccharine even as her body tensed for the next move.

But that moment’s enjoyment had cost her. Beast stirred beneath her, and before she could secure the hold, thick legs bucked and kicked out, crashing hard into her gut. Avery grunted and stumbled back a few steps, arms flailing once before she found her center. Her heel bit into the mat, the ripple of her powerful thighs keeping her from toppling. Graceful even in retreat, she swayed like a dancer catching herself mid-tumble, chest rising and falling fast under the straining band of her leotard's "neckline."

The second her balance returned, her expression darkened with renewed fire, a savage flash in her eyes. Oh no. No escape. Not yet.

She surged forward, thick legs pounding with thunderous steps across the canvas. Her whole body coiled with weight and force, and she threw herself at him like a wave crashing on stone. Arms out, hips angled, curves threatening to bury him in sheer, unrelenting body.

“Back down, darling,” she growled through clenched teeth, throwing her body forward in a full-bodied splash, aiming to crush the fight out of him before he could so much as breathe after the bodyscissor.

[BlackAkuma]

Beast would never admit this in a million years, but the more he wrestled Avery, the more he was reminded of the last match he had with Beauty - the one where she defeated him, the one where she claimed him. His mistress had been at her absolute best that day, thoroughly dominating him, countering his every move, having the perfect answer for everything he could think of. That same feeling of helplessness was coming back to him. He’d never thought another woman could affect him in such a way, he’d never thought….

No. No. Beauty’s words clawed their way into his thoughts, pulling him back where they should be. He wasn’t just some random submissive to be picked up; he was hers, and he would act accordingly.

Those thoughts gave him new strength as Avery called out to Beauty, no doubt trying to stoke a fire that was already threatening to rage out of control. His little gambit seemed to work well enough and the kick managed to separate them before she could do anything serious to his leg - good, he didn’t know what sort of submission move she would’ve twisted his leg with, and he didn’t want to know.

Beast rolled away and pushed up to his feet, hoping to get up to a vertical base once again, needing to make this fight about a straight-up exchange so he could play to his strengths. He had only just stood up, however, when Avery came rushing in, moving with a frightening speed he hadn't thought he was capable of. Beast cried out as she threw her weight against him, hammering him against the turnbuckle and knocking the wind clean out of him.

He might have had the bigger body between them, but Avery’s was surprisingly solid, packed with powerful muscle, and she was a wrecking ball with the proper momentum behind her. The splash left Beast gasping, and all he could do now was lean against the turnbuckle with his arms draped over the ropes—hardly a flattering position.

If she thought he was broken, though, he would happily disabuse her of that notion. "No." He reached out and gave her a rough shove against the face, more for disrespect than anything.

[RockRye]

Avery’s body collided with Beast’s like a tidal wave hitting a boulder, the momentum of her thick frame crashing into his muscular form with an audible smack that reverberated through the air. She felt his chest buckle slightly under the force, his powerful physique absorbing her full weight as she pressed him deeper into the turnbuckle. For a moment, she rebounded back from the impact, her curves rippling from the collision, but she stayed poised on her toes, leaning forward with unrelenting purpose.

Beast's body language betrayed his struggle. His chest heaved, each breath labored from the punishment he’d endured, but still, his hand shot out with a defiant, firm shove to her face and a "no" to pair with it. Avery staggered a half-step back, the force of his palm against her cheek momentarily frustrating. But then her lips twisted into a sly smile. No? Oh, she knew that tone well. That wasn’t pure defiance. It sounded like avoidance of a truth.

A thought for later. Most importantly, he wasn’t pulling himself free from the turnbuckle. He couldn’t, not yet. Time to lessen the pace and turn up the heat.

Her smile deepened, her blue eyes narrowing with a predatory gleam. “No?” she echoed softly, her voice low, honeyed with condescension as she stepped back into his space. “Oh, darling, don’t lie to me. You’re right where you want to be.”

She moved closer, her feet making almost no sound as she glided forward. Her thigh slid between his, settling against him with deliberate pressure. Her chest hovered near his face, her breath warm against his ear as she leaned in. “You feel that?” she murmured, her tone so sweet it was nearly a coo. With practiced ease, she leaned in further, her curvy frame pressing against him in a way that left little room for escape. Then she made her move.

Avery shifted her shoulders and thrust her chest forward, trying to smother his face against her ample bust. Her arms looped around the back of his head with the intention of pulling him that much closer.

"No need to fight, love. Just let me take the breath right out of you.”