L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

     Patricia's eyes jolted open as she gasped for air. Her retinas were immediately greeted by the blinding lights of the arena, and the roar of the crowd seemed to quickly fade in. Then, a moan escaped from Patricia's lips, catching the red-haired woman by surprise. Wanting to investigate, Patricia looked up and promptly noticed Tiki's hand in her panties.
     "No, wai—AH!" Patricia gasped as Tiki's fingers dragged across her clit. A bolt of pleasure shot through her, causing her hips to spasm. Involuntary moans escaped Patricia's lips as Tiki's fingers moved deftly, rubbing Patricia's clit while simultaneously traveling in and out of her vagina. Patricia's inner walls squeezed around the invading digits as if trying to swallow them, and her drooling sex made sloshing noises with each movement of Tiki's fingers. Slowly, Patricia's mind became enveloped by sensations of pleasure. Her breathing quickened and her hips started moving in tandem with Tiki's fingers, her sex beginning to spasm. Patricia could feel her orgasm slowly arriving—an inexorable inevitability.
     Suddenly, a ray of clarity pierced through the pre-orgasmic fog. No I can't! Not like this! thought Patricia. The thought of losing was unbearable. An affront her her identity. She was supposed to be a hentai wrestler, not some glorified porn show! She was not supposed to lose this easily! Her fighting spirit stoked once more, Patricia's body sprang to life. She swung her free leg around in an attempt to build momentum and began pushing at Tiki's calf. She was not going to be trapped in this position!
     But her movements died down almost as quickly as they had started. The pleasure in her groin was becoming too much to bear. Soon, all Patricia could focus on was not cumming. She tightened her sex and grit her teeth to try to delay her orgasm—but the sensations would not stop. Then, Patricia let out a particularly loud moan, arching her back as she did so.
     "Hnnn... YAAH!" cried Patricia as Tiki's fingers stabbed into her G-spot—the result of Patricia involuntarily arching her back. A small spurt of sexual fluids came out of Patricia's womanhood. A near orgasm. Still, Patricia refused to cum. And Tiki refused to slow down. As the unabating stimulation continued, Patricia's breathing became more ragged. Her breathing quickened and more moans left her lips. Patricia's brain screamed at her muscles to continue struggling—but they were dead. Exhausted from fighting. Yet Patricia was unwilling to give up. She tried to raise her head, only for the titantron to catch her eye.
     "N-no..." whimpered Patricia. "W-why..." Her eyes struggled to maintain focus. Even through her unfocused, tear-filled eyes, Patricia could see herself clearly displayed on the titantron. Her exposed breasts and hardened nipples were laid bare for the crowd to see. And her soaked panties were translucent, doing little to hide the action going on underneath!
     Fresh tears began to flow down Patricia's face as her failure was literally and figuratively put on display. Her partially unclothed figure stood in stark contrast with Tiki's attire which was entirely intact. During the match, Patricia had been completely unable to mount any form of offense against her vastly superior opponent. Patricia did not feel like a wrestler—she felt like a doll. A complete failure, both in her previous identity as the heiress to the Corticarte Conglomerate, and in her present identity as a hentai wrestler.
     Patricia's tears became more intense as her failure poignantly presented itself to her. The tension in her body released as she resigned herself to the inevitable. Slowly, the sensations induced by Tiki's fingers began to overtake Patricia. Her breathing became increasingly ragged, with moans and whimpers interspersed. Patricia's eyes rolled back and her tongue lolled out of her mouth. Her eyes turned glassy and unfocused as she involuntarily began to thrust her pelvis against Tiki's fingers.
     Patricia offered no resistance as she felt herself being dragged into the sensuous depths—she had passively accepted her fate. Eventually, the pressure of the depths overwhelmed all else. A torrent of warmth rushed in, beginning at Patricia's womanhood and radiating throughout Patricia's supple body. Patricia cried out in pleasure just as the warmth overtook her. Her juices gushed out, only to be stifled by the cloth of her undergarments. At that moment, Patricia's mind could only register the all-encompassing pleasure that had engulfed her.
     But eventually, the ecstasy subsided. The rhythmic contractions of Patricia's sex began to die down and the orgasmic warmth began to abate, leaving only a fleeting warmth akin to a dying candle. Chills began to encroach on Patricia's body, slowly replacing the dull afterglow with coldness. No longer shielded by the heat of arousal, Patricia felt exposed. Defenseless. Powerless. Just as she had felt during her fall from grace. Pathetic. Worthless. In an attempt to shield herself, Patricia's arms shakily rose to cover her chest. But such a modicum of modesty did nothing to ease Patricia's pain. Instead, Patricia could only cry bitter tears as her entire body shook with despair.

Although Tiki didn't regret her show of mercy towards Patricia in letting up on the headscissors portion of her hold and allowing her defeated opponent to breathe, she did end up regretting the results of that action. The quick succession of thoughts and emotions she could feel going through Patricia's head and body. The realization, the last burst of fight, that fight dying down in its futility, the desperation to maintain even the smallest crumb of dignity, the despair once she realized there was no chance of that, then the tearful sense of resignation as her body gave up and came to Tiki's fingers.

Tiki hated doing this to Patricia. This is why hentai was so rare for her. At least in more normal matches if she outclassed her opponent she could just pin them or submit them quick and be done with it. But in hentai, the fastest way to end a squash was to just push and push an already defeated and humiliated body until it finally just gave out entirely. Some people loved it, put to Tiki it was just a mess dragged out for far too long.

Once Patricia came, Tiki released her immediately. And Tiki saw a woman left broken. Crying and shaking as she feebly attempted to cover her bare chest. Tiki had no words. Even if she did she doubted Patricia would want to hear them. All she could think to do was take Patricia's shirt and bra from the corner she left them in and use those to cover Patricia for her. She was about to leave the ring when she finally did think of something to say.

"Don't let this become who you are."

     Upon being released from the humiliating hold and set on the mat, Patricia immediately curled into a fetal position. Patricia's body shook as tears poured down her face and onto the canvas. Her mind fell back to familiar memories: the drunken car crash, those scandalous photos, the enraged screams of her parents when they found out. Memories that she had revisited many times before. A part of Patricia wanted nothing more than to lie on the mat until she wasted away. But she knew that was not possible—after all, there were other matches after this one.
     Patricia took deep, quivering breaths, making sure to focus on her breathing. Each time her thoughts strayed from her breathing, she would gently redirect her thoughts back to it. Her breathing slowly became more stable. Patricia slowly began to get onto her hands and knees, but was interrupted by the sensation of fabric being placed onto her. She looked up with teary eyes and saw Tiki's form in front of her.
     "Th-thank you..." whispered Patricia as she sat up. Her gaze fell to the canvas and she began putting her bra back on. Her shirt, which was in tatters, soon followed, affording Patricia a small amount of modesty.
     "Don't let this become who you are."
     Patricia perked up upon hearing those words. "This is all I have. I have nothing else," replied Patricia, loudly enough so that Tiki could hear. Patricia opened her mouth as if to continue speaking, but suddenly paused. Her eyes scanned around the arena—the cameras had since moved on and the shotgun mics were pointed away from the ring.
     "Patricia Lagranges Corticarte," uttered Patricia. "That was who I was. Now, this ring defines me."

When Tiki heard Patricia say that this was all she had, she felt another twinge of pity for her. Tiki hoped that Patricia had simply meant wrestling in general, instead of what had happened here tonight as Tiki had meant. Tiki was about to turn again to leave the ring when Patricia gave Tiki her full name. A name that made Tiki's blood freeze.

"Corticarte?" Tiki repeated to herself. She knew that name. It was the name of a massive international business group. How could someone of that name be here? Forced into orgasm and then stating that fighting in a ring was all she had? It simply made no sense. Tiki had gotten the answer to the question she asked back before the start of the match. But the answer only lead to more questions.

Winner: Tiki Lowell