L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

This wasn’t a hentai match. It was a hardstyle hentai match.

In the throes of passion, with so much going on, it could be difficult to remember that through the rigamarole, but Asp did her best to hold onto that fact. She much preferred that stipulation over the ‘vanilla’ form of hentai, since it was such a good way to blend competitive with traditional sexual exploits. She could employ her abilities as sex wrestler and a pure grappler at the same time.

Most importantly for this match, however, it meant that, even if Adrianna came out on top from this exchange, it was not the end of the world. She could be the first to orgasm, then still win the match. An important note to make, because that was becoming closer and closer to reality with every passing second.

That wasn’t to say that Asp was passive in her approach, or that she simply laid there and let it happen. As she ground upwards, she formed the backbone of resistance, and at first it seemed to be having some real effect. She could dominate from the bottom, stimulate this woman as she’d done many others and bring control back in her favor.

But that delusion only lasted as long as it took for Adrianna’s hand to travel down her core, slip into the darkness, and slip two adventurous fingers into her most private of places.

Asp moaed at the intrusion - a long, gasping moan - as Adrianna seized the motion away from her. Her movements were simple, quick, but effective, especially with all the pleasure she had already endured. Her toes curled and her body arched, all without her permission, driving those fingers in even deeper.

”Adrianna, please,” Asp wasn’t sure if she was asking her to stop or if she was begging her to go harder. Maybe it didn't matter. ”Oh, gods.”

Her hands reached up and threaded their way through the woman’s hair, as her lips rose in search of their partners, desperate for all the contact she could find.

Asp had come into this thinking in terms of formats and stipulations, of strategies layered over desire — trying to be both competitor and participant, hunter and offering at once. Adrianna let her have that illusion for as long as it amused her. Let her believe she could dominate from below. Let her believe she could drive the rhythm.

Then Adrianna took it away. Not abruptly. Not cruelly. Simply by choosing to.

She adjusted her position with calm inevitability, her weight anchoring Asp in place as her fingers worked with renewed purpose — not hurried, not sloppy, but precise and accelerating, a steady climb in tempo that refused to give Asp time to regain balance. Every reaction Asp made only guided Adrianna’s touch more exactly, tuning herself to every breath, every tension, every involuntary response.

Her lilac eyes darkened, watching Asp unravel beneath her with quiet fascination.

She leaned forward just enough for her voice to reach her — low, intimate, threaded with gentle mockery rather than malice.

“Agnello che finge di essere un lupo…You sound like you don’t quite know what you want.” Adrianna purred, her tone warm but unyielding. “Whether you want me to stop… or whether you want me to continue.”

Her fingers did not slow. They became more deliberate instead, tightening the space between reaction and cause, denying Asp the luxury of distance from her own sensations. “But I know what I want from you.” The words weren’t loud. They didn’t need to be. They were spoken with the calm certainty of someone who had already decided the outcome.

“And it doesn’t matter when you figure it out.” Adrianna continued softly, “or if you do at all.” She leaned in closer, her presence filling Asp’s vision, her breath brushing her skin as her fingers worked with unrelenting control and greater speed. “It won’t stop me from making you mine.”

There was no threat in it. No heat. No raised voice. Only inevitability. Adrianna watched Asp cling to her, felt her grasp tighten, felt the way resistance had dissolved into response. And she held her there — not letting her escape, not letting her fall away — keeping her balanced on that edge where want and surrender blurred into one.

This was not conquest. This was cultivation. And Adrianna was very, very patient.

Asp had never before thought she could empathize so much with a fly, but that was very much her situation in the present moment. She found herself caught in a web, trapped, and it seemed like everything she did only made that trap worse and more inexorable. If she did nothing, Adrianna would have her way with her and run away with the match. But struggling seemed counterproductive - the woman seemed to know precisely how to turn her actions against her, as if she had read some manual to Asp’s body and was merely following the script.

It was humbling. It was terrifying. It was exciting.

Asp couldn't make out of all the words the woman spoke - Italian, perhaps? She wasn’t sure. But the meaning of what she said almost didn’t matter, so much as the effect it was having on her. Adrianna was a witch, carving words onto her soul, pinning her with arcane spells that drained the life clean from her body.

She felt helpless, which should’ve distressed her, given the loss she had come off. But this wasn’t the same as Safiyah, where she’d been beaten into a crippled mess, then beaten again in an official match. No, this was…warmer. More intimate. A comforting surrender.

Her body moved on its own accord, thrusting upwards to meet Adrianna’s fingers, drawing the maximum pleasure from every moment. Her breath’s shortened, and her gaze held firm, tightly locked into her opponent’s, as if held by some invisible bonds.

She wasn’t holding back anymore. There was no point in delaying the inevitable - she let herself go, fully, and tried to pull Adrianna into a kiss as she thrust upward one final time, putting all of her hips into the effort. The fingers went deep, hit the right spot, and she might as well have been pressing a button.

Asp’s body shook, as the jolt ran through, a shuddering cry tore through her throat, and the heady scent of sex filled the air as she burst, spilling all over Adrianna’s fingers. An orgasm, and an electrifying one, at that - the first fall was hers.