Isa Armstrong vs Arlise Christiaens - Debut Match

[Liesmith]

As soon as she’d blocked the kick with a subtle wince, Isa went to drop her leg back, already thinking to a followup kick of her own.

But she hadn’t counted on Arlise’s smooth progression to her own next attack as a redhaired missile planted a foot and stormed towards her at point blank range.

Isa’s takedown defence was usually excellent. With a solid base, her broad hips and strong legs meant she could easily stuff most attempts at taking her down.

But she needed that solid base and having a foot off the mat or lightly planted a solid base did not make. Particularly not against the expert way Arlise had pivoted from the kick right into the next step and the explosive power in the tackle.

She could have tried and would have gone down regardless with Arlise in control or been driven right into the ropes, neither ideas she relished.

So Isa went with her instinct. Instead of resisting when Arlise slammed into her like a rugby forward, she let herself fall with the impact, her own arms grasping greedily at the Belgian woman’s head and shoulders and arms as she tried to drag Arlise down with her to the mats.

Down to where Isa worked her best magic.

As the Temptress fell, her legs splayed wide, doing her utmost to suck the redhead right into her guard as they fell.

If they fell.

Because, of course, the flipside of this was that Arlise might be powerful enough to just scoop her up and run with her – in which case, Isa would just go for the standing bodyscissors and give Arlise a display of what she was working with, leg power wise.

[Winter]

Arlise savored the satisfying warmth and resistance that met with her rushing shoulders. While speed and violent body blows could never be considered her strength, she could not deny the rush that these raw clashes brought on - adrenaline that could fill a girl with supernatural powers. She had experienced such a surge during her first match against Frederick, a heavyweight, in her first LAW match. Not so much sense.

Though an intense scowl hid beneath her whipping silky hair, Arlise savored that rush and sank into Isa's midriff. But she didn't sloppily drive straight through the leggy beauty; she had another plan in mind. One that Isa nearly ruined. The redhead could sense the tell-tale signs of a woman who was more than willing to go down to the mat with the two of them in this position. Ultimately, though... that was why Arlise fisted the edge of Isa's sport bottoms. Not the perfect grip, but enough. She had done this to heavyweights, after all.

Arlise's figure dipped, nearly dragged down by Isa's weight, but she poured all of her remaining momentum into bracing her legs and back. As quickly as she had started to dip down, she popped back up with Isa in tow by way of her grip around the pole dancer's waist, with a battle cry of exertion that reached shotgun mics in the tenth row.

But only for a moment. Her plan wasn't to force Isa towards the ropes, but to put her down - in every sense of the phrase.

There was nothing fancy about the spinebuster. Both went straight up from Arlise's small hop, and both came straight down, with Isa's back on bottom to break the fall.

[Liesmith]

How the tables could turn, particularly when you thought you were one step ahead.

Isa hadn’t been paying much attention to Arlise’s grip on her shorts, thinking little of it beyond the redhead wanting to keep her close as she charged across the mat. It wasn’t a threat, just one more hook she could use to pull Arlise down with her.

It turned out she really should have done something about it. One moment, Isa was falling, in control. She could feel the first tremors in Arlise’s strong limbs, the other woman about to totter and tumble with her as she lost her balance.

Then Arlise steadied herself and Isa felt herself being lifted back up. Her eyes went wide as Arlise hefted her up in an impressive show of her core and upper body strength. Hitting the peak of her arc as her opponent roared her triumph, it rapidly became clear just what Arlise had in mind for this particular move.

For her part, all Isa could do was go limp as the floor rushed up behind her, think about how much this was going to suck and-

She hit the mat back first, her form crushed between the upcoming canvas and the down going curves of Arlise’s body. The Temptress let out a pained gasp, her legs limply cradling Titania’s powerful hips, her hands going to nurse her suddenly aching skull and neck.

Momentarily, she was all but helpless under the suddenly domineering redhead – to the fans’ loudly expressed approval.

That had definitely sucked, she thought groggily, emerald gaze vaguely taking in the woman above her without really focusing on her.

Next move to Arlise.

[Winter]

Arlise harmonized Isa's gasp with one of her own - one filled with relief rather than agony - when the meeting of the other woman's back and the canvas resolved the strain on her back and thighs. Isa crashed against the mat hard enough, with Lise right behind her, that Lise's teeth chattered, but that nor the complaints from the muscles she had wielded to execute the spinebuster could dampen how thrilled she felt with the execution and the appreciative cries of the crowd.

A small smile crossed her lips, and further adrenaline made it easy for her to tilt her head and shoulders up to take in the face of the... incredibly beautiful wrestler who now lay sprawled before her. Isa struck Arlise as ripe for the picking, disoriented and more interested in nursing her neck than mounting a defense. Lise shoved down any notions of playing with her prey - she was here for business, tonight.

Lise started moving as she filtered through her handful of options. She settled on two as she rose to her knees. Keep working the legs, or maintain the current status quo.

She opted for the second. Why mess with a fortuitous situation when her next move was staring her in the face? Or, more specifically, staring Isa in the face.

Lise lurched forward. Isa's body was somewhat longer than hers, but she was not climbing for long before the rear that Lise had taunted Isa with earlier landed on the taller woman's upper hips. After a moment of squaring her body, doing a few practical measurements, the redhead dropped her upper body, her abs spilling over Isa's ribs and bosom, her chin pressing against the top of Isa's head... and her breasts? They buried Isa's face between them.

Like a practiced, punishing dominatrix, Lise was not content and continued her work to secure the smother and seal off Isa's breathing. Her arms wound into the space between Isa's neck and the mat, wrapped, and flexed - a motion that succinctly left her biceps squeezing her own breasts together on either side of Isa's face and her hands and forearms shoving the pole dancer's features deeper into the greedy maw of her cleavage.

"Tap anywhere, remember?", she cooed.

[Liesmith]

Dazed and flat on her back with Arlise looming over her, Isa wasn’t off to a great start in this match. While she’d wanted to be in this position, that had been when she’d planned on being the one in control.

Right then and there, she barely had control over her own body – it might only be temporary, but she couldn’t help the cool frisson of fear that fled down her spine at the situation. No fighter she’d ever talked to liked this position, even if it was only a momentary thing.

Something told her that Arlise wasn’t going to just sit there while she shook off the stun though, however brief it’d be.

And for once, Isa would have liked her instincts to be wrong as she felt Titania start moving forward, brushing past the dark-haired grappler’s feeble attempt to keep her back with her legs. Soon enough, her opponent’s weight was planted on her lower midriff, pinning Isa’s hips down with what felt like skill as well as just mass.

The Romani girl had just shaken off the last shreds of her spinebuster induced dizziness when Arlise moved on to the next step. She threw her weight full onto Isa’s upper body, swamping her with an avalanche of toned flesh.

It left Isa just enough time to begin to articulate a protest as the redhead’s deep cleavage dropped down on her face, burying Isa’s nose and mouth in the very ample flesh of Arlise’s rack only for the smother to intensify as toned arms wrapped around her neck and pulled her in close.

Suddenly, all she could see, hear or taste was the redhead. Darkness. The pulse of her opponent’s heart. The sweat beading on the slopes of her breasts. Flesh all around her.

It was all very erotic… and not something Isa wanted any part of. Even if Arlise didn’t just knock her out here, she could easily burn through Isa’s endurance with little to no effort (and considerable pleasure) until the Temptress’ big debut just ended with her a doll in Titania’s hands. If she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t fight.

And the longer she waited, the harder it would be to get out.

Trapped as she was, Isa couldn’t really hear what Arlise said. But the intent was pretty clear.

She bit back a response, did her best to plant her feet so she could try and buck the redhead off with her hips. She’d probably still have to fight out of the smother but, if she could get Arlise off her, she’d have a better chance.

[Winter]

Arlise stifled the groan of satisfaction that threatened to well from her throat. Whatever the circumstances, whatever the intensity and gravity of a match, she imagined she would never grow tired of dominating a lovely face by trapping it against her cleavage. Little could fill a woman of the Belgian's shape with more bodily pride than utilizing its curves to their fullest extent, and beyond that, who would not enjoy having a set of warm lips and cheeks tucked against her bosom. Someone without feeling, clearly.

Enjoyable as it was, Lise need attend to the breast smother's purpose, as well, and her cool features as her chin rested atop Isa's head spoke of her focus and a calculation that stood in stark contrast to the raw, sensual nature of the hold. Of course, she had worked her opponents from this position dozens of times... and suffered in this hold almost half as many times. She did not operate like any woman getting hot and bothered from the close contact.

Her breadth of experience told her that what she would do in this situation - and what most did - was try to push up with her legs and bridge first and foremost. Throw the dominant one on top off-balance. Titania, with that in mind, inched her knees further up Isa's sides and arched her back. The movement shifted her chest higher, but she made sure to bring Isa's head higher too, still plastered between her breasts.

Isa provided the proof of the redhead's theory. Her hips lurched from beneath and behind Lise's own. With legs that well-built behind the effort, Lise could not stop from sliding forward from the bucking. But, wisely, she thrust her rear down roughly in the next moment, into Isa's stomach, to try and tame the Temptress' wildness.

Lise tut-tutted at Isa's effort. "That's naughty," she chastened, wriggling her chest and wrenching her arms to discourage Isa from trying again imminently.

[Liesmith]

The insidious thing about a properly applied and fully locked in breast smother was that it didn’t hurt.

It didn’t hurt. When applied by a woman built like Arlise Christiaens, it could even be comfortable. Your head enfolded by two soft, warm pillows, scented with perfume and just the hint of sweat. All you had to do was lie there, let the darkness soothe you to sleep.

Until you realised you couldn’t breathe. You panicked, started to struggle – breathing harder, wasting oxygen and energy and before you knew it, you were fading away under another woman’s tits. And then you were waking up, red and sweaty-faced, laid out centre ring.

Under another woman’s tits.

In this case, an awe-inspiring set to be sure but still…

Hardly the most dignified way to lose a debut.

And Isa was in a bad spot for even contemplating an escape. Thinking straight under Arlise’s hulking endowment was a growing problem, the worsening lack of oxygen leaving her with a growing tinge of panic as she cast about for a way out. Not that slipping out from a smother like Arlise’s was easy – the other woman’s powerfully toned arms and expert use of her weight made it like trying to buck a sack of concrete off her hips. She knew exactly what she was doing and was bleeding Isa dry while preserving her own reserves at the same time.

Still, Isa had tried and had shifted her redheaded rider forward. Not enough though before Arlise had hammered her back down with that curvy rear she’d been showcasing, proving that she too had potent hips.

The twisting of her head that followed sent pain shooting through Isa’s already abused neck, a gasp of pain echoing in the clammy darkness.

But she couldn’t let it stop her or she was done. Gritting her teeth, trying not to resort to the sort of useless random thrashing that would see her drooling before long, the raven-haired fighter thrust up again, this time doing her best to twist as she did.

If she couldn’t just throw Arlise off, maybe she could roll them over. Get on top, force the redhead’s shoulders down? Or just go for the ropes?

Something. Anything.

There was that panic again…

[Winter]

Arlise could not stop herself from beaming, struck by a swell of pride as her tactical counter-thrust brought Isa's back and ass flat to the mat once more. Thinking one step ahead - that was one of the skills of the old, less distracted Titania and at that point, a subject of pride. She could not always win with athleticism or strength; many wrestlers could outlift her and many more could outmaneuver her. Smart use of her body, though? That set Arlise apart. Or once had, anyway. In these matches of late, her body had been too... excitable.

Not tonight, Lise swore again to herself when the smile faded, even while her chest (and the rest of her body, in kind) made it abundantly clear that the constant heat from the contact between Isa's pretty face and Arlise's flush cleavage was more than enough to get her excited. Hardly the roster's zen master, Lise nonetheless breathed in slowly (which made it all the easier to keep her breasts plastered to Isa's face, anyway) and kept reminding herself match for now, match for now.

And given it remained a match, she still needed to deal with the bucking, raven-haired seductress. Hips still firmly planted against the disadvantaged woman's toned stomach, Lise waited for more resistance. It came, and with further reinforcement that Isa wasn't a rookie with all the composure of the average threatened bunny rabbit. It was a smart move - Lise went to slam her hips down again as Isa bucked, but the inches-larger woman didn't give her an easy target, and Lise's butt smacked into Isa's hip instead of her midriff. It gave Isa a semblance of leverage from beneath Lise, and it would have worked fine to dislodge any wrestler who didn't employ smothering cleavage as one of their main tactics.

As for Lise, she recalled the power that she held by the fact that Isa's head was in a cage formed of her breasts and strong arms and simply threw all of her weight forward, somehow finding the means to crush the head wedged between her titties even tighter. If she had the head, the snake could wriggle all it wanted to - Isa wouldn't be going anywhere!

[Liesmith]

Isa was not in a good way. Oxygen deprivation was really sinking its teeth into her, her struggling only making matters worse, and she didn’t even know if she was an inch closer to the ropes. What she did know was that Arlise was still on top of her, still choking her, and if this didn’t work-

But it did. Kind of. Sort of. She’d be prouder if she could think straight, even thinking in full sentences was getting hard now as unconsciousness beckoned.

Somewhere. She’d got somewhere.

Dimly, Isa was aware that Arlise had tried to smash her back down again, the redhead’s hips crashing down against her with real power behind their thrust.

Equally, she was aware that it hadn’t really stopped her, that she’d got a hip up off the mat -

Leverage, she had leverage. Finally.

Thing was, it wasn’t going to matter. Distantly, Isa could feel the strength seeping out of her limbs, her arms and legs feeling like lead for all the effort it took to move them. Her world was rapidly shrinking to the steely-soft grip of Arlise’s arms around her head, the almost oppressive warmth of the redhead straddling her torso and the embrace of Arlise’s more than ample cleavage devouring her face.

She wasn’t sure how long it was since she took a breath. Too long. And trying just earnt her a mouthful of scented flesh. It was a sign of her unthinking desperation that her hands started to grip and tug at her opponent’s tightly-locked arms, surely the least vulnerable part of the smother – but the Temptress wasn’t really thinking so much now.

She was acting on instinct, even when all she was doing was burning through her last reserves at pace.

Isa’s green eyes started to glaze over and close. Her attempts at resistance started to slow, started to fade as her lids blinked sleepily though her hands continued their fruitless tugging at muscled biceps.

This was… so… embarrassing… Losing… like…

[Winter]

Arlise savored the sensations of Isa's consciousness fading to her femininity. The bombshell's grips and grasps, her shifting and kicking legs and feet, her desperation all filled the redhead with satisfaction that might have had her purring if she had not needed to steady her breathing and her dominant figure to keep Isa from succeeding with any further bold attempts to escape the confines of the Belgian's impressive cleavage. Lise loved it, and by the sound of the crowd, they loved it just as much. She never did purr, but she did stick her tongue between her teeth playfully, as she felt Isa fading in her tits in what was basically the first good hold either of them had secured.

The redhead became fixated on that idea, and the glee on her face slowly faded. She started to wonder if LAW, if the bloggers, if even the fans enjoying her successes would fixate on that too - that they would say Lise had gotten a lucky win by way of a rookie opponent's fatal mistake. That might be nonsensical drivel... but such talk was not what Lise wanted or needed to see right now. She longed for positive press and admiration, even as she received it.

Seconds before Isa likely would have started snoozing between her breasts, Lise unwrapped the temptress' head and let it fall to the mat. The Belgian could not imagine that the woman would have any fight in her, anyway, so what would it hurt to release her, lengthen this match, and finish this in a way that would ensure no one thought it a fluke.

Lise didn't simply let Isa go and leave, however. With the Isa still beneath her, she spent a spare second from her perch atop Isa's stomach to size up how to best approach her curves before she turned, grabbed one of the temptress' meaty legs, and started to wrench the woman's whole body onto its stomach for the Boston Crab. "Don't go to bed without tapping to me, mmm?"