L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

The combination of Naga’s pressing and bearhugging meant Asp could not last long. For a moment, it felt as though she began to share the passion, kissing back, but Naga was so lost in the moment she thought it merely a fragment of her imagination. Long after Asp's body went limp and relaxed from the suffocating pressure and weight, Naga remained for a few moments longer. She eased her weight, supporting herself more, but she did not relent her grip, enjoying the feel of Asp's defeated core between her powerful arms. She continued to kiss Asp—deeply, slowly, and sensually—caring not that the red-haired beauty had long since passed out. It did not matter to Naga at this point; Asp was hers and hers alone.

What felt like an eternity for Asp was but a fleeting moment for Naga. She was fast losing the long hours of the night, and she was far from finished with her captive obsession. For a while, she lay beside her, caressing her beautiful form and feeling over her flawless skin before she finally relented her grip. She kissed every inch of her body whilst her hands roamed and explored every inch of skin. Asp was perfect: a goddess of a woman—beautiful, alluring, and mysterious. Even in sleep, she looked picturesque. Naga was feeling emotions she had not experienced before, slowly hoisting the limp Asp into a fresh bearhug whilst on her knees, squeezing and kissing her as if there were no tomorrow.

After a little while, Asp slowly began to stir despite her predicament. Naga’s breath caught in her chest, enthralled by the slow rousing. Asp's body subtly tensed and writhed, her toes curling and her back arching as her chest heaved slightly, testing the fabric of her revealing top. Naga slowly adjusted her grip to hold her close, her arms wrapping high around her chest and shoulders. She kissed her face and forehead, positioning herself to lie back as her powerful legs slowly wrapped around Asp's waist. She did not squeeze this time, instead binding her body in a prison of flesh before slowly forcing her own chest against the alluring features of Asp's face. Her arms squeezed—not to crush, but to hold her in place—smothering her face with her own heaving chest.

Naga began to breathe deeply, her hair falling over her eyes. She was intoxicated, wanting nothing more than to slowly rend her prisoner back into a slumber so she could watch her rise again. She was taking her time, however, being meticulous; she wanted to watch and feel how Asp would writhe and struggle as her world turned to darkness, her face pressed deep between Naga's impressive and barely covered breasts.

Asp and Dominique had just come out of a movie - which one? She couldn't say. It didn’t matter. She honestly didn’t care much for movies at all, at least not enough to watch them in theatres. But it was a good place for a date night, and she didn't regret the decision. The two had spent most of the movie curled up together, touching and caressing and maybe making more noise than they should’ve in a public setting

The two of them came out into the cool night air and waited at a bus stop. Asp didn’t say anything, but she looked up at Dominique’s eyes and spoke volumes. She could see the longing there, the need. She turned about, stood on her tiptoes, and met her lover’s lips, as the Frenchwoman’s arms wrapped around her waist and squeezed.

And squeezed.

And squeezed.

Asp came out of her pleasant dry with a sharp cry, as the agonizing reality came down on her. Her back arched and she let out a hoarse cry as her bones cracked. Her eyes went to the ceiling as her mouth tried to make silent pleas, ones she knew ould never be answered.

In the next moment, she was brought down, and those arms went from around her waist, but the relief was only for a few seconds. That was all the time Naga needed to wrap her long, crushing legs around Asp’s waist and pull her face into her chest, locking her in for a tight, overbearing smother that robbed her of all air. While Asp could say from experience that her sister was the superior when it came to this particular sort of torture, Dominique’s power was nothing to scoff at - her legs pressed deep and hammered her ribs with an unrelenting, inexorable force, one that made every breath a chore.

Not that she could do all that much breathing at the moment, anyway, with her face buried in Naga’s breasts. At any other time, she would’ve loved to be in such a position, where she could feel the softness, taste the sweat on her skin, and feel her powerful heartbeat thrumming against her face. Here, it was an iron trap, one that took all the life out of her.

She was falling asleep, again. And again. And again…