Laxia kept Bandita’s injured left leg tightly trapped between her thighs, continuing to wrench back on the luchadora’s face and upper body as she maintained the modified STF. There was no need to raise her voice. She could have spoken loudly enough for everyone in the arena to hear, yet Laxia deliberately chose to whisper only into Bandita’s ear. A petty little act of retaliation for the way Bandita had rested her chin upon Laxia’s shoulder earlier, distracting her with warm breath and playful words. Perhaps it was simply part of Laxia’s nature. Anything done to her had to be returned in kind. Yet that was not the whole of it.
Whenever Laxia’s breath brushed her ear, Bandita’s body twitched faintly beneath her. Each small spasm and tremor traveled through the points where their bodies met, and Laxia found herself lightly biting her lower lip before she even realized it. It was surely only the pain of the hold. Telling herself as much, she tried to dismiss the dangerous pleasure beginning to stir somewhere within her. She could also feel Bandita’s trapped hand pressed between their waists. Whenever the luchadora’s fingers twitched, each movement brushed unmistakably against the bare skin of Laxia’s waist. She chose to dismiss that, too, as nothing more than an involuntary response to the submission.
Bandita was still struggling desperately to escape. Whenever her free leg pushed against the mat, the muscles of her thigh and calf stood out beneath the strain. Each time she bucked her hips in an attempt to drive their combined weight forward, her abdomen and obliques tightened visibly against the canvas. But without any proper leverage, her efforts gained no distance at all. Every lurch only pressed her abdominal muscles more firmly into the mat, while her chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to breathe without being able to fully engage her diaphragm.
At last, a pitiful groan escaped her, filled with equal parts frustration and despair. Then Laxia drew the hold a little deeper, and that groan transformed into a piercing scream that cut through the arena. Laxia’s eyes wavered for an instant. It was the first time she had heard such a dizzying scream from Bandita. The anguished sound sent a chill down her spine, yet at the same time left behind a thrill she did not quite wish to acknowledge. Had Bandita felt this way earlier, too, listening to Laxia’s cries while watching her refuse to break no matter how much pain she endured……?
Listening to Laxia’s cries while watching her refuse to break, no matter how much pain she endured. Yet more than the scream itself, it was the spirit still burning within it that captured Laxia’s attention. Bandita’s confident voice was gradually being stripped away beneath the pain. Even through the pain, Bandita insisted she could not lose. She wanted to defeat Laxia at her very best. However awkwardly she expressed it, Laxia understood. Only a result earned after both women had driven their bodies, their skills, and their wills to the limit could truly be called a victory. Laxia could not deny feeling a little guilty. But had Bandita not taught her this herself? Easing the pressure now would be far more disrespectful to an opponent who had offered her nothing less than her very best. Pain and exhilaration, rivalry and a peculiar sense of intimacy all blended together in a single moment. Only then did Laxia begin to understand why people were willing to pour everything they possessed into this ring.
“I understand what you mean.” Laxia whispered quietly beside Bandita’s ear.
“Then I shall give you the match you deserve as well……” Laxia watched Bandita’s free hand as closely as the referee did, torn between wanting the tap and wanting her to keep fighting. Bandita’s fist struck the mat twice. For a heartbeat, Laxia thought it was over. But there was no open palm, only another fierce refusal. Her eyes widened briefly before an impressed smile touched her lips.
“You truly are stubborn.”
At last, she released the pressure in her arms and thighs. She freed Bandita’s leg and slowly began to rise from atop her. As she straightened, a dull ache pulsed through her already-battered back and abdomen. Laxia clenched her teeth for a moment, using Bandita’s body as support beneath her palm while she regained her balance. She was still far from her best condition. Even so, standing presented no true difficulty. After steadying her breathing, Laxia looked down upon the exhausted luchadora and tilted her head playfully.
“Do you intend to remain so stiff until the very end?” Her smile deepened slightly.
“Then I suppose I shall have to loosen that stubbornness first.”
Laxia reached beneath both of Bandita’s arms, attempting to draw her back up from the mat. If the injured leg and lingering effects of the STF prevented Bandita from finding her balance, Laxia intended to draw the luchadora’s weight against her own body for support before slipping around behind her. Yet Bandita’s body remained tense, refusing to follow Laxia’s guidance smoothly. Her gaze lowered toward the luchadora’s exposed, toned abdomen.
“Loosen up.”
SLAP!
Laxia’s palm snapped toward Bandita’s stomach. The strike was not intended solely to cause pain. It was a sharp blow meant to make the tightly braced muscles flinch, disrupting Bandita’s breath and posture long enough to draw her into Laxia’s rhythm. If the impact made Bandita recoil or loosen instinctively, Laxia would immediately attempt to seize one arm and pull it upward.
“There. Much better.” She murmured in quiet satisfaction. Laxia slid one leg inside Bandita’s nearer leg, hooking it to restrict her lower body. At the same time, she drew the captured arm behind her shoulder and wrapped her free arm around Bandita’s waist. Pressing close beside her, Laxia pulled the trapped arm and waist in opposite directions, twisting the luchadora upright and stretching her toned abdomen and obliques into an attempted abdominal stretch. She inclined her face closer to Bandita’s cheek.
“Let us see how far your body can bend before your resolve does,”
