L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

And speaking of acting, Alix wasn't this time around. The splits? No problem. Having her body bent in a way that it absolutely wasn't meant to, applying pressure on the quad and lower back that no amount of prior stretching could have prepared her for...Combined with a fine Latino-Japanese booty bearing down on her, its owner slipping further out of her demure demeanor and into something more assertive...

There would be no second thoughts to be had here, listening to her: This hurts! Alix's hands were balled into fists. One of the cameras at ringside caught the "oh shit" in her eyes when they saw just how far away the ropes were. They were in the center of the ring, so she'd have some crawling to do.

And yet...

Her cries weren't borne of pain alone. The rest of her face had been twisted into an agonized smile. She had one word on the edge of her tongue. The first of two that crossed her mind: "Harder, mami!" She would've loved to see what Gabby would've done with that, but there was a problem: She'd just said "Nervous" for the first time not even two minutes ago.

So she had to try to make that crawl.

With her back turned to execute the hold, Gabby couldn't tell if she liked this one as much as the last one or if the pain was working on the porn star more than the pleasure. Whatever the case, this had to be wearing down those thick legs. It was wearing down Gabby just to maintain the hold on the heavier woman, so she had to imagine the positioning was rearranging Alix from her spine down to her knee. Gabby mostly stuck to submissions with her own legs... but while she had a small advantage and was working this one part of Alix - the crotch, yes - she had to keep the momentum.

At risk of becoming absorbed in the sounds and stares of the crowd, Gabby did allow herself to peek over her shoulder. That... turned out to be a mistake. Somehow seeing Alix struggling on the mat was even more of a distraction. She looked way too attractive in peril. Not to mention the- okay, Gabby shouldn't have looked down at her bent leg, or her stretched crotch, either. It left so little to the imagination that the flush already on her cheeks threatened to speckle into place around her eyes; she could feel the heat from the redness. Good thing it was dark in here.

But the damage was already done. Gabby would have struggled, given her weight class and arm strength, to keep Alix in place to begin with. The lapse in concentration only made her lose more ground when Alix started crawling, and it took her a great deal of effort as she slammed her feet back into the mat to slow the porn star down. "Not... part of the deal..."

So lost in her task was Alix, that she'd miss just about all of it; that first stride, one that covered some good distance, felt too easy. But she wouldn't think about that too hard. This was one of those holds where a good time could turn into a bad one if you stayed in it for too long. She needed both quads, her spine, and most of all, her crotch, on deck tonight.

"Oh, sweetie!" A word with a regular presence in her vocabulary, said so often to just about everybody. Just like a Southerner, despite not being from the South herself. No twang, but the comfort would be there.

It was grunted out through her pain and exertion. The masked wrestler put the brakes on, but the hold she had on her leg was feeling limp.

"If you've seen any of my work, you'd know..."

Just limp enough for her to feel that she could try something: As Eve continued to struggle against her, she turned. Onto her side, perched up on her elbow with one arm while the other reached out during a sudden stop, grabbing at an ankle as it was coming down. Hopefully it would be enough to get her off balance, in which case Alix would turn onto her back after feeling that her foot wasn't tucked neatly underneath Eve's arm.

"...I'm quite the...naughty girl!"

The idea? Slip free from the hold and literally put a boot to an ass, giving it a good thrust to upset the balance even more.

The hold had been slipping - she knew that - but Gabby hadn't expected the counter to be quite so... dismissive.

One moment, she was trying to maintain the leverage of the single-leg crab, feeling the scandalous friction of her thigh against the porn star; the next, her center of gravity was violently rude-checked. Having her leg dragged until she nearly did the splits herself would have been bad enough. She was thankful for her gymnast's flexibility as one leg flew forward and the opposite knee dug into the canvas. She felt a draft where a draft shouldn't have been, but she didn't get the chance to cover it like she might have during a gymnastics meet before she felt the boot.

That boot didn't just push her; it planted squarely into the softest part of her glutes. It wasn’t a damaging strike intended to break bone, but it was firm, deep, and humiliatingly effective.

She felt the impact send a distinct, visible ripple through her backside - a jiggle that she was horrifyingly certain caught the light perfectly for the front row.

The force of the kick pitched her forward, and because she was still trying to hold onto Alix’s ankle, her balance was nonexistent. There was no graceful gymnast roll this time. Gabby let out a sharp, undignified squeak as she face-planted, her hands slapping the canvas late as she scrambled on all fours to keep from eating the mat entirely. She ended up crawling frantically toward the ropes, looking like a startled cat on a polished floor.

By the time she hauled herself up using the middle cable, her face was burning so hot it felt like it might melt the synthetic material of her mask. She quickly, instinctively tugged at the bottom of her leotard to ensure the kick hadn't turned her gear into a thong, her chest heaving not just from exertion, but from the sudden spike of shame.

She turned back to face the woman, brushing a messy strand of hair out of her eyeholes, struggling to find her voice through the fluster.

There! Free at last!

Alix pushed herself off of the mat, crabbed leg lifted during her hop back to an upright position, grunting again past through her back's protest. That frantic scramble tickled her, still, drawing a light chuckle. She wouldn't pursue her, setting her other foot down to assess how the leg felt with weight on it. "Catlike" was an apt description, and the goth had been put into that and similar holds enough times for her to be able to do the math in her head: Eve had scurried away too far, too fast to keep up with.

But that's okay. Alix just needed a moment to get back onto her feet. Find her balance. Speaking of which...

"You'd better watch out!" She started stepping forward, if gingerly with the steps that put weight on the one leg. Arms raised, hands open, fingers wiggling in anticipation of contact. Lips parted and curled into the sort of grin one would expect of an imp who's just found some trouble to get herself into. Perfect teeth beaming, as bright as her nicknamesake: Sunshine. Her voice dropped, her intentions laced with honey and danger. "Next time, it's gonna be my hands!"

Her approach was intentionally slow. Not cautious, but measured, with the hope that Eve would do the real legwork for her. Away from the ropes, at least.

Gabby lingered against the ropes a beat longer than necessary, fingers stilling on the hem of her leotard as the echo of that boot's impact pulsed through her skin - a dull, insistent warmth that made her shift her weight, thighs pressing together against the unwelcome stir it left behind. The crowd's scattered chuckles hummed in the background, faint but sharp enough to prick at her ears, and she swallowed the urge to glance their way, to see if they'd caught the full ridiculousness of her sprawl. But she had to focus. She was coming closer, and freezing up would just get her... well... she tried not to let an image form of what Alix could do with her.

Speaking of - Alix's steps were deliberate, that grin widening like she knew exactly the effect it had, fingers waggling in the air between them as if already mapping out where they'd land. The promise in her voice sent a quiet flutter through Gabby's chest, equal parts nerves and overactive imagination that had written these scenes before. She straightened, drawing on the old rhythm of breath control from dance warm-ups, her own arms lifting loose at her sides, palms half-open as if unsure whether to invite or deflect.

"Maybe... maybe you can," she said, the words slipping out even and measured, carrying just a touch of that breathy edge from the scramble, "if you can actually get them on me."

She didn't wait for the retort, dropping low in a fluid dip, shoulder feinting toward Alix's midsection before she twisted away at the last second. Instead of committing to the takedown, Gabby rolled past in a tight somersault, the canvas cool against her shoulder as she rolled, planning to finesse past the heavier woman's approaching form to get behind her again and throw out a foot at her heel.