Leather or Lace? - Avery Merritt vs. Beast

[BlackAkuma]

A body splash. Of course this cow would use her body like that.

Beauty herself would never use such a move, though she suspected that was in part because she simply didn’t have the bulk for it. Avery’s body was thicker than hers, taller, more solid, and she could use it like a battering ram to steamroll her foes. Even Beast, as imposing a man as he was, couldn't wholly resist that sort of attack. If Beauty had been on the receiving end…

She wiped that thought out of her head. She never would be.

Back in reality, she was somewhat assured by what she saw in the ring. While she took no joy in seeing Beast in pain - at least, not when she wasn’t the cause of it - she was heartened to see him push the trollop away, shoving her back with a disrespectful palm. It wasn’t much, but it showed Avery’s callous attempts to woo him were falling on deaf ears.

That didn't seem to deter her, however, as she still moved in to press up against him, throwing her body over his like a horny little schoolgirl. Still reeling from the assault, Beast found himself trapped as the woman solidified her stance and pressed him up against the turnbuckle, leaving him with nowhere to go. He struggled, twisting as her thigh slid against him, but there was nowhere to run in that corner.

A fact she took full advantage of. Beast and Beauty both gasped as she reached out and pulled his face between her breasts, capturing her with a tight smother, engulfing his features in flesh. A shameful, humiliating move that Beauty herself had used to great success. Avery used the move to great effective, leaving her opponent to struggle and fight for every single breath, trying in vain to pull his head from her expansive cleavage.

Beauty gripped the apron from the sidelines so tight that it was beginning to tear. ”Beast, get out of there!”

[RockRye]

Avery had honed the art of seduction to a fine edge through years of practice, both in the high society circles she frequented as an heiress and in the intimate battles of her session wrestling career. She had faced men of every stripe: billionaires with their guarded egos, intellectuals who prided themselves on their wit, and athletes with bodies chiseled from stone and minds just as hardened against vulnerability. Each type had their weaknesses, and Avery relished discovering them, slipping past their defenses with an intoxicating mixture of charm, dominance, and allure. Her confidence was rooted in her triumphs over these far more discerning adversaries, men who thought themselves untouchable until they found themselves ensnared by her smile or crushed by her thighs. A beast like this? He was merely another canvas for her artistry, another opportunity to showcase the power of her presence.

“Oh, Beast,” she murmured, her voice low and rich, dripping with sultry amusement. “Why all this fuss? You’re making it so much harder for yourself.” Her tone turned ever so slightly playful, her words brushing against him like velvet. “Relax. Enjoy this. After all, how often do you get the chance to be this close to someone like me?”

Of course, he couldn't have answered if he wanted, his face having disappeared against her skin as she engulfed him completely, her ample breasts smothering his face and sealing off his air. Avery’s arms cradled his head firmly, ensuring there was no escape, no room for breath. Her flesh seemed to mold around his face, his mouth and nose completely engulfed by her softness. Her teasing laughter vibrated through her chest, her satisfaction palpable as she maintained her hold.

From ringside, Beauty’s voice rang out, sharp and urgent. Avery, unbothered, casually tossed her hair over her shoulder, casting a sly glance in Beauty’s direction. “Darling,” she called back, her tone saccharine with faux concern. “He doesn’t want to get out. Trust me on that.”

Her smirk deepened as she adjusted her grip, yanking Beast backward with sudden force. She fell deliberately, landing onto her back with practiced precision, hoping to bring Beast down with her. She planned for her thick thighs to once more wrap around his waist like a vice, locking him in place as her smother transitioned into a brutal combination with her bodyscissors, a predicament she deemed inescapable.

[BlackAkuma]

There was a time, years ago, when Beast would’ve been in the crowd, mocking any man who found himself in a position like this. Things like face sits and breastsmothers weren’t serious holds, he believed. They were just things that silly, horny guys who otherwise couldn't touch a woman found themselves in, playful moves that had more place in the bedroom than the wrestling ring. He would never fall for such a thing. It would never be him with his face between some bimbo’s chest, on the verge of consciousness.

That was before Beauty knocked him out with her breasts. Time makes fools of every man, but some men more than others.

One would think that having experience with such a hold would better prepare him for taking it, but that was not the case—it was hard to anticipate, which was part of the reason it was so dangerous when properly applied. Beast had been exhaling when she captured his face, leaving him with precious little in the way of oxygen at the start, and it was getting so much worse with each moment.

She was saying something. He couldn't make out what at the present moment, but judging from the lilt in her tone and the shades of a laugh, he could guess who she was talking to. He could feel Beauty’s eyes’ boring holes in his back, egging him on with unspoken threats, but none of that was going to put oxygen back into his lungs magically.

They were falling now, and while he could guess what was about to happen, knowing an outcome and stopping it were wholly different things. He had been in dire straits before those legs came into play, but when she locked them around his waist again, the situation grew serious. What little air he had was forced out of his body, and he could already feel unconsciousness setting in. The last thing he wanted was to fall asleep with an opponent like this.

Beast tapped. Again.

[RockRye]

Avery fell back with a satisfying thud, her powerful frame absorbing the impact even as a faint grimace flickered across her face. Beast’s substantial weight pressed down on her ribs, aggravating the pain he had inflicted earlier, but the discomfort was eclipsed by the sheer triumph she felt. Her thick, muscular thighs snapped shut around his sides like a steel trap, the power in her legs palpable as they bulged and flexed with each pulse. The mat beneath them almost seemed to reverberate with the force she poured into the hold. Crossing her ankles tightly, she locked the hold in place, her legs an unyielding vice that promised only agony.

She couldn’t help but smirk despite the ache in her chest. “Not exactly the most graceful descent,” she remarked coolly, “but this?” Her legs clenched with another deliberate, crushing pulse, the pressure on his ribs enough to make even a colossus falter. “This is worth every second.”

As Beast struggled, the memory of past conquests surged to the forefront of her mind: the hapless session victims she had squeezed into submission, their faces pressed into her breasts, mewling pathetically; the air-headed bimbos who thought they could stand up to her and ended up folded beneath her thighs like paper dolls. None of them, however, compared to this. Trapping him, this self-proclaimed beast of a man, between her thighs in front of this adoring crowd was intoxicating. It was a high like no other, a rush of almost sensual power that surged through her, making her press her legs even tighter.

Avery leaned back, her head tilting to catch Beauty’s gaze across the ring. “You watching, darling?” she taunted, her voice sweet and cruel. “This is the last time you can let your beast roam free. I’m breaking him. Permanently.”

The referee’s announcement of Beast’s second submission echoed through the arena, the sound almost drowned out by her cackle. But Avery wasn’t done. Not even close. Her eyes flicked to the clock at the edge of the ring, counting down the time. She was through the third minute and almost into the fourth, but that meant plenty of time to drive the point home. Still, she tugged at his hair sharply, pulling his head free from her breasts.

“You’re not passing out on me, sweet brute,” she whispered, her voice dripping with mock concern. “I want you awake for this.”

With a deft shift, she adjusted her legs, knotting them into a devastating figure-four around his midsection. Her calves and thighs coiled around his ribs, trapping him so tightly their faces nearly touched. She reached down to grab her instep, cranking the hold with a practiced precision that produced enough tension in her muscles to send them teetering onto their sides. Now lying on the mat beside him, Avery bore down, her lips curling into a predatory smile. She leaned in even closer, her lips hovering just shy of his, her breath hot as it brushed against his face. The faintest trace of a pout danced on her mouth, teasingly close to his.

“You feel that?” she murmured, her voice low and dripping with venomous delight. “That’s power, my savage. My power. Power she doesn't possess."

[BlackAkuma]

Another tap. Another tap.

It was a shame that Beauty had to watch all of this unfold from the opposing side. Deep inside, in a part of her that she didn’t want to countenance at the moment, she could appreciate Avery’s dominance. The artistry of it. The control. The way she broke a man, mentally and physically, brick by brick. It took a true master to recognize another on sight, and she could see all the signs of a craftswoman, here. They were both true examples of the women that so many wrestlers in LAW merely played at.

Sadly, all her respect was buried under a mountain of seething rage, one that was growing in size with every passing second, and certainly with every word. It would’ve been embarrassing enough if the woman had been content to keep her taunts inside the ring and leave her to spectate, but no, she had to make a personal matter even more so.

Beast gasped as he was finally freed from her breasts, his body bucking as life returned to him in a rush. It would surely be a reprieve, but a faint one at that, and he had little time to enjoy it before Avery tightened the reins. Her legs switched up, slipping into a figure-four position, creating a tighter hold with even less space. Beast’s midsection was compacted and he groaned in the hold, sagging as his innards were crushed under the weight.

All while the blonde bitch smiled. Truly infuriating, almost as much as Beast refusing to think his way out of the situation. ”Enough.” She hissed through her teeth. ”Stop playing with her. Fight.”

It was brief, but Beauty could see the spark in Beast’s eyes, a flicker of a flame returning to him. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for him to try and push his way up, and realize he still had two perfectly good arms to work. While they weren’t as good to him as they were when he was standing, they still had enough power to do some decent damage, and he began to throw quick hooks into Avery’s side, targeting her ribs.

[RockRye]

Avery reveled in the control, her body a fortress of sinew and dominance wrapped around Beast. The figure-four hold was more than just a maneuver. It was a chance to hold him close and test what he could endure with a beauty of her ilk in command. Her thighs and calves molded to his midsection, her hips pressing snugly against his ribs, left no room for ambiguity. Every twitch, every strained breath, every bead of sweat rolling down his temple was hers to observe and savor.

She gazed into his face with an intensity that bordered on obsessive, her icy blue eyes softening into something more curious and predatory. The heat in her stare was palpable, a mix of fascination and a certain calculated delight. Avery leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a sultry purr.

“You’re fascinating,” she murmured, her breath warm against his face. “All that power, all that loyalty… I wonder, darling, what it would take to make you forget her.” She emphasized her words with a sudden, precise squeeze of her thighs, savoring the way his body reacted beneath her.

“And... you’re distracted,” she cooed. “Does she still have that much control over you? Do you wonder what would happen if you let go and gave in to me?”

She watched him intently, pushing her words deeper into his psyche, testing his boundaries. It was intoxicating to feel his struggles, his every movement so intimately pressed against her that no reaction escaped her notice. But then, something shifted.

A flicker of defiance blazed in his eyes. His mistress had spoken, her commanding voice cutting through the haze. Avery’s smirk faltered, replaced by a sharp focus.

And then it came. The first punch landed hard against her side with a sickening thud. Avery’s eyes flew wide, and a sharp, involuntary cry escaped her lips: “Ahhhnn!” The force jolted through her, pain radiating from the impact.

Another punch followed, this time on her other side, drawing a strained “Hhhaaaah!” Avery gritted her teeth, gasping, trying to keep her hold intact. But Beast wasn’t done yet. A third blow slammed into her ribs, and she let out a pained, desperate “Nngghhh!”

The sharp, focused strikes were too much to ignore, and she knew she couldn’t weather another. Glaring down at him, Avery swiftly adjusted. She loosened her figure-four hold and stretched her body to its full length, freeing her arms to counter.

As the fourth punch came, her hand shot out, aiming to catch his wrist with practiced precision. Her plan was simple: if she could snag his arm, she’d twist her body and roll him over the top of her, breaking his momentum.

[BlackAkuma]

In her arrogance, Avery might have thought herself the first to try such tactics on Beast, but she would find herself sorely mistaken in that belief. Being a submissive made him a target in mixed matches, with his opponents assuming that, simply because he was subservient to Beauty, that he would bend a knee and kiss any foot that came along, as if he were an addict who could get his fix anywhere.

They didn’t understand, none of them did, that the relationship between him and his mistress was like a key and a lock. You could try other keys if you wished, and some might even fit, but only one would turn.

That being said, credit where it was due - Avery was a better fit than most, and she seemed determined to press the matter. Beast was exceedingly glad that he’d opted to wear a baggier set of pants today instead of his tougher set, or both women might be catching sight of something he wanted neither to see.

Throwing those punches into her body was more satisfying than Beast expected it to be, as if Beauty’s delights were transferring directly into him. The woman was tough, far stronger than he would’ve expected her to be - while they were far from his full power, they were still sharp and precise blows, more than most would want to take a single shot of. Avery held on for not one, not two, but three of the penetrating blows.

She had a solid core, and while she had disdain for the whole affair, she weathered the blows better until they finally got the better of her. Her legs unraveled, and Beast drew back, preparing to let it all go with a hellacious shot, only for her to capture it on the way down with impressive reflexes.

Beast was pulled over and sent rolling, creating some separation between the two of them - a shame he missed his shot, but at least he had room to breathe. Beast pushed up, tried to rise to his feet, only to drop down his knees on the first try, as his battered midsection refused to comply.

He made his way up after the second try and rose with his fists tucked in tight, taking a defensive stance as he circled the ring. He wasn’t sure what Avery would be coming his way with next, but he knew he wasn’t ready for it, with two knockout in such a short period. He needed to recover. More importantly, he needed to keep her at bay while he did so, and he doubted she wouldn’t be aware of that fact.

[RockRye]

Avery gasped as she successfully rolled Beast off her, escaping the brutal rain of punches. Her ribs screamed in protest, each breath a reminder of the punishing blows and the earlier bearhug that had squeezed her lungs and body with relentless force. Her movements were deliberate as she clutched at her side, a groan slipping past her lips despite her best efforts to maintain composure. The ache radiated through her torso, a dull throb that pulsed in time with her heartbeat, and she felt a lingering weakness in her core.

But Avery was nothing if not determined. She refused to dwell on her pain, brushing aside the temptation to wallow in it. She had enjoyed too much success to relinquish control of the match now. Wiping the grimace from her face with an effort of sheer will, she planted her hands on the mat and rolled gracefully onto her knees. Her recovery was fluid and elegant, her background as a ballerina shining through in every movement, though the blank, distant stare betrayed the lingering hurt. As she rose to her feet, a sharp wince and a momentary stumble threatened to undo her poise, but she caught herself.

Pride was, after all, one of Avery’s greatest weapons. It masked her pain and gave her the strength to steady herself, lifting her head high despite the protest of her body. She spotted Beast, sluggishly pushing himself to his feet. He was clearly worse for wear, yet the way he began to circle around the ring told her he wasn’t done fighting. That was fine. She didn’t want him to be done just yet.

“Still struggling, my dear Beast?” Avery taunted, her voice dripping with disdainful amusement. She would take the moment to aid her own recovery, as well. And to tease him. “I’ve seen wilder fights from house pets."

With her breath caught and her resolve hardened, Avery suddenly moved. She rushed toward him with purpose, her footfalls echoing with a rhythm that seemed to promise another body-first assault. Avery had other plans, a piece of her offensive game she had not yet revealed to him.

At the last moment, her movements transformed. Her body twisted with precision, gathering momentum as she pivoted on the ball of her foot. Her powerful thigh, taut and gleaming under the lights, sliced through the air in a perfect arc as she launched a scissor kick aimed directly at Beast’s neck.

[BlackAkuma]

Avery was hurting.

Oh, she was doing a good job of hiding it, keeping it buried beneath her veneer of control, but Beauty was far too attuned to pain and its effects on the body ever to miss such things. It was subtle, but she could tell in the way she carried herself, the way she stood, the winces, and the creases on her brow. The match was taking its toll on her, despite her being on the winning side. For Beast to win this match, he simply needed to be smart about things.

Though, perhaps that was a bigger ask than Beauty was willing to admit. Beast was doing his best to hide it, too, but she knew him too well ever to be deceived in such a way - he was in pain, serious pain. She knew his usual boxing stance, had it ingrained in her memory, and the one he took now was a hollow imitation of it, a patchwork barely holding together.

But she approved of his decision to take her standing, no doubt seeing that her advantages lay on the floor. He’d always been a subpar ground fighter, anyway. In a striking contest, hand-to-hand, he’d dominate her.

That was put to the test a moment later, as she came charging headlong again, looking like she might once again use her bulbous body as a battering ram. Beast seemed to expect as much, and started to duck, preparing a counter, only for her to surprise them both when she instead brought her leg up and let her heel slice into his neck, tagging with a sharp scissor kick. The blow forced a cry out of him and dropped Beast to his knees, with his face contorted by the pain.

He didn’t stay down for long, however. He’d scarcely touch the mat before he pushed up, rose, and returned fire, swinging his arm around for a vicious uppercut aimed at her stomach.

[RockRye]

Avery's heel connected with satisfying precision, her scissor kick slamming into Beast's neck and forcing him to stagger. The impact echoed in the ring. But her landing was less than perfect, her feet faltering beneath her as sharp jolts of pain shot through her body, residual reminders of Beast’s earlier hits. She grit her teeth and forced herself upright, masking any sign of discomfort from both him and the eager crowd. Confidence was her armor, and she would not let a stumble tarnish her image.

She turned back to him with intent, her eyes narrowing as she calculated her next move. He was down on his knees, exactly where she wanted him. Her plan to follow up with a punishing kick across his face was already forming, her leg beginning to shift, but the momentary stumble had cost her dearly.

Before her foot could rise, Beast’s uppercut shot upward like a cannonball, slamming directly into her exposed abs. Avery’s eyes went wide, her pupils dilating with shock and pain as the air was driven from her lungs in an instant.

“Ughh...!” she gasped, the sound a sharp mix of shock and agony as her body folded forward involuntarily, clutching at her midsection. Her fingers splayed against her toned stomach as if trying to hold the pain in place, her mouth slightly agape as she struggled to draw in a full breath. The crowd's mixed gasps and cheers rang in her ears, a cacophony that seemed miles away compared to the sharp throb in her core.

But she knew she couldn't let Beast capitalize on her vulnerability; with swings like that, he could easily overwhelm her if she allowed him another clean strike. Summoning what strength she could muster, Avery bit down on the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to push forward despite the pain. Desperation clawed at her, and she realized she had only a split second to act before he came at her again.

Letting out a sharp, guttural yell, she lunged forward, planting her foot firmly on the mat and using the momentum to drive her knee upward. Her thick, powerful thigh lifted in a blur, aiming to connect with the underside of Beast’s chin.