L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

"Oh, I can do both, baby," Francisca assured her opponent as they locked up, though she could see his eyes clearly flashing towards her generous cleavage as they met. Clearly he was more distracted than he was letting on.

The Devil Cat attempted to break the grapple and catch Isaiah in a headlock, hoping to nestle his face against the side of her pert breast, which would certainly enhance the rookie wrestler's distraction!

"This is bullshit..." Isaiah said as Francisca cinched in the headlock. As he said this, his face crashed into his opponent's right breast, and his face started to turn the color of the Devil Cat's outfit.

"Language, language, baby," Francisca tittered at the Prophet's words.

With Isaiah now caught where she wanted hip, the Devil Cat licked her lips, ruffling his hair with one hand before attempting to run forward, dragging the rookie with her.

She would then leap forwards, trying to slam Isaiah's head into the canvas with a brutal bulldog!

If one would believe it, there are advantages to being a bit short. One was what Francisca was about to learn the hard way: A low center of gravity. Francisc ran with Isaiah in tow, but, when she dropped, she essentially just landed on her thick butt, with no one in tow. There was a bit of a whiplash, but, otherwise Isaiah just stood there with a look of amusement...

Francisca pulled Isaiah forward, hoping to plant the rookie's head into the mats with a bulldog, but she underestimated him. The male wrestler ducked out of her hold at the last second, leaving her to thump embarrassingly onto the canvas, her buttocks taking the brunt of the impact!

"OOFF!" she squeaked in surprise before scrambling back to her feet and turning to face Isaiah, scowling. "Slippery one, aren't you?" She licked her lips, circling him again, waiting for her next opportunity.

Isaiah smirked for a split second, but, when Francisca started giving those lustful gestures, his concentration slipped just a little bit more. He tried to ignore it as he got into a fighting stance, but, he was officially starting to sweat...

Seeing the flutter as his eyes followed her, and the beads of sweat on his cheek, Francisca knew her opponent was still distracted. Dreadfully so. She slowly brought her elbows together as she circled him, pushing her breasts together to display her formidable cleavage.

Then, hopefully having distracted the Prophet even further, she would fling herself towards him, hooking an arm around his waist and swinging herself behind him. Once there, she would try to get a hold of him completely and heave the rookie head over heels backwards into a brutal German suplex!

"...Blast!" he exclaimed as he hit the mat with a thud. He just laid on the canvas, a bit dazed. He decided to just lay here for the time being, hopefully luring Francisca into a false sense of security. Still, he was a bit distracted by Francisca's antics, and certain body parts started to voice their approval, as it were...

Francisca neatly executed the suplex, tossing the flustered Prophet unceremoniously to the mat. She rolled clear and came neatly to her feet, staring down hungrily at Isaiah's prone form.

"Too slow, baby," she crooned mockingly as she slid down beside him. Taking hold of one arm and leg of her opponent, she attempted to drag Isaiah forward into her open legs, before clamping them shut in a body scissor.

"Hngh..." Isaiah moaned as his opponent clasped her legs around him. Isaiah tried to power his way out, but, to no avail, "Let go of me, you animal..." he grunted out. Although his mouth said that, certain body parts were saying something else entirely...