L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

It was a heavenly feeling. A bliss more potent than a climax; sensations that rattled the body whole and made her fingers twitch with fervour; a fulfillment that overflowed her heart.

A painter’s canvas needed its paint. A sadist required blood. She’d dub herself a sadistic artist as that colour dripped from the nose. Such was its interpreted scent, the pain embellished by their plea of mercy. There was this giddy feeling that soared through her arms, spine and mouth, which exploded into a laugh. Her arms gripped her chest as she leaned back, then forward, slumped and equipped with a blush.

“Stop? But why? I’m having so much fun. You know JUST what ticks me off. And well… It makes hurting you all the better. Ohoho, what do we have here?”

She paced forward and lurched closer; her gaze fell upon the blood. A finger dipped into the contents and swiped across, garnered a wad onto her fingertips, which she rubbed betwixt all five before she stepped back, turned around and hoisted an arm.

“Look!” She yelled as she stepped onto the bottom rope, chest slumped against the top and presented the colour.

“You dogs are really cheering on this loser!?” She yelled towards the first row. “This waste of breath?! I’ve already made this dog bleed! Bleed! And she even begs! Just like a puppy! Where’s my respect!?”

Just as the dog-tamer, Karla, turned her back to gloat over her drawing of blood, Gil would touch her upper-lip, the blood painting her fingers red. It took a moment for her vision to adjust, the blur quickly becoming a clearer image as she brought her hand up to gently rub her nose, it didn't feel broken, but that kick was devastating, she'd have to be careful, one more of those and she'd be done for.

Her condition, bloodied nose and all, wasn't the best, of course, but she was still standing, if only thanks to the ropes, but standing all the same, so she knew what to do next, put one foot in front of the other, and make your move! There wasn't time for breaks, there was only time for one thing, and that was to put a leash on this beast, and tame her before a crowd of onlookers!

Karla's own shouts of demanding respect mixed in with the very vocal crowd's disapproval of her actions made it easy for Gil to sneak over to her corner and grab ahold of her collar and leash, or more accurately, Karla's collar and leash! Gil was light on her feet, so that along-side a cacophony of voices made coming up close behind the German an easy task. "...Down, girl...!" Gil had prepped the collar to go around Karla's neck, taking either side in both her hands before going over the top of her head and catching her by her throat, latching the collar tight around her neck, and with one hard yank as it latched into place, Karla would hit the mat, back first.

"You're far too rowdy, maybe this doggy could use a muzzle...!" Gil smirked, latching her leash onto Karla's new collar, which pink color with sparkly hearts contrasted deeply with her ring attire. "Hup...!" Gil gave one good tug on the leash, launching it though her legs, and gripping tight, clutching it to her chest! The force of which was enough to shoot Karla back up, and right into her backside, and for the second time, Karla would be smothered by Gil, for a Leashed-Marshmallow Press!

One foot stepped over the other; elbows parted shoulder-width against the top. Her arms folded up; the knuckles of her right hand propped her chin while the blood-dipped fingers of her left waved at the front row. Their jeers rained down like a pleasant rain. It enthralled her so much that she cupped her ear and gave them her gaze, dressed in a toothy grin. “Mm... Alright, I want to hear one good woof out of someone. Come on, don't let dignity hold you back! Your parents already lost theirs when they had you!”

She ruptured into laughter as the blood hand combed through her velvet tress, and her eyes closed. And what rage the crowd possessed dissipated into cheers as something warm cusped her throat, pinched it dry and seized her breath. The back of her head snacked the canvas and cried out with a whimper. Both hands cupped her nape, back arched, facial features tightened, and teeth squeezed. “NGH- What-?!”

Blur filled her view; a cloud that dissolved everything into pixels. But she saw a line through a mist. A click, so recognizable, her cheeks bathed in heat. Redness exploded from her cheeks, ear, jaw, and neck. Sweat compiled on her nape and leather-clad body as she sat up and came face-first into Gil’s posterior. Meshed into her face, a welcome-back treat as the skin swallowed her features, and lipstick smeared as she threw herself back, but the grip upon her neck commanded obedience. A dog who did nothing but sit, robbed of breath and squealed out her reserves of air. Her head rattled side-to-side, the strain already built inside her neck, all while her arms pushed against their thighs, and her heels kicked, thrust and slammed the canvas.

The crowd was particularly vocal about what they thought was severe mistreatment from Karla, but what brought out their voices even more was the counter from Gil, leashing the woman from behind in an unexpected turn. Dragging the German down onto the mat, crashing the back of head into the canvas sent the audience from jeers and roaring disapproval, to thunderous applause and whistles of approval!

With the leash connected, the only step was to give one good tug, which she did, burying Karla's feature deep into her backside once more. The best medicine for heels was smothers, after all, maybe it would help her see she wasn't any more valuable a fighter than Gil, or anyone else. Though, currently, she wasn't seeing much of anything...

Gil held up nicely, not allowing her visibly distraught opponent free from her press for even a spilt-second. "It's not that bad...! Come on, maybe it'll grow on you...!" Gil began to rub salt into the wound with a little teasing, she wasn't one to shy away from such tactics, even if in most cases it did more harm than good in terms of riling her opponents up rather than weakening them. One thing Karla had going for her was she was the only one to draw blood, blood that still dripped from Gil's nose and onto the mat, not that it slowed her down.

She held up the hold for as long as her arms would allow her before pulling her hips back forward, allowing Karla to breath the fresh, open, air once again. Gil's grip was still tight on that leash, however, as she knelt down in front of the freshly humiliated Karla, whose cheeks burned just as red as her hair did, whether or not the humiliation was a factor, Gil didn't know, but it didn't matter, the smother clearly did a number on her. "Alright, I want to hear one good bark out of you, okay...?" Gil flashed a devious, smug, toothy, grin toward Karla, their face mere inches away from each-other.

The heat blanketed her face and turned it into a rose field. Sweat trickled down her hairline and nape, spine and abdomen. Her pulse punched into her throat and forced a slump as it bled her strength dry. Shoulders pushed forward, arms piled between her legs that spread in a V across the canvas. When Gil’s posterior left her visage, her chin dipped, eyes fell onto the mat littered with grey spots and a black lining that pushed to swallow the remaining colour. Her hair curtained over her ears, neck and face. Two coughs mused between wetted brims, dry and followed by sharp intakes. A hand came to clutch the collar, still a sweltering disaster after all was done, and the crowd roared for an encore. The tug that commanded her attention offered just that. A confrontation; eye to eye.

Bark? “W-Wha...?”
Her eyes gaped as the word bounced inside her head. The shimmer inside her hue now beamed at Gil. There was silence; another cheer. Her upper lip twitched after a second delay, and she bit down on the corner of her lip. Blood oozed around the pearly-white and she snarled, which rumbled in her throat before she spat at Gil’s face.

"Request that again... hah,” she started through laboured breath, “And I will snap your fingers.” She said through clenched teeth. Her arm swung in tandem, aimed to backhand their cheek in one lumbered throw of the limb.

Given the stipulation, Gil didn't think the request was all too outlandish, but against some of such higher standing, or someone who believed themselves to be of higher standing, it could seem absolutely ridiculous for anyone to expect them to stoop so low as to give in to the pressure and bark for mercy.

"Yeah, just give me one, good, cute, little, bark!" Gil smiled, shining her pearly whites at Karla. Her cheerful attitude was clearly not doing anything to make Karla take this situation lightly, if anything, it was only adding fuel to the flames, which seemed to rage on more and more with every word, every smile, and every cheer of the crowd.

Gil's smile would sour into a puckering of her lips as the spit landed directly between her eyes. And with it, the crowd went quiet for a brief moment, before turning to groans of disgust, and of disapproval for Karla's actions. At this point, it didn't really seem like Karla could even flinch before the crowd booed at her.

Gil went to wipe the spit off her face, her eyes closed still from when it first made impact. "...That was-" Gil opened her eyes back up as she spoke. The first, and last thing she saw before taking a stinging smack to the cheek was Karla's reeled back arm, charged up and ready to swing away!

SMACK.

The flesh and flesh impact echoed throughout the arena as Gil fell to her side, her hand cupped onto her cheek, nursing the freshly red mark that was so graciously given to her by Karla. Her cheek throbbed, heat rose into her face as she fought back tears.

Juiced of her wind and shackled, there wasn’t much beyond the instinct to bite at her handler. The repeated demands; akin to striking a match inside a gunpowder cache, and her luck already ran dry on the maiden stroke. So when they asked again, the response came in one wad of saliva that struck their bullseye. Her hand cocked and swung, punished the cheek with refined leather and remained extended, coupled with a predator’s scorn that watched them fall before her attention fell elsewhere.

“GET THIS THING OFF ME! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!”

Two hands gripped the leash and pried, yet to no avail. Kicks patted the mat, and she rolled onto her stomach, then onto her knees, where she found the buckle and a click set her free. She whipped the collar into the ground before her knees. She stood afterward. Hefty breath coursed her lips. The leash remained within her clutch, folded with a loop in between, then snapped tight to clap. “That’s better….”

Through dishevelled hair and mushed lipstick, that smile restored itself slowly, lopsided as her head tilted one way. She approached in a rickety step. The leash unfurled, so the metal bit dangled with six inches of leash and spun around because of her wrist twirls.

“So!” She said as she leaned forward, “You really wanted a bark, no?” A toothy grin basked itself, coupled with a wink. “Don’t you know? You have to give to get. And I’d ask for a bark myself, but… I’d much prefer a squeal, and I’m not about to ask twice….”

The leash rose above her crown, helicoptered, then cracked down to whip Gil’s lower spine! Once, maybe twice and perhaps - thrice!

The stinging blow of a backhand would be enough to bring anyone to tears, she hoped that was true at least, at risk of seeming like a crybaby. Stifling back a whine and tears falling down her face, she held her hand up to the fresh hand print on her cheek. The leather on flesh made a sound like no other, loud enough to resound throughout the entire arena.

Karla didn't just inflict pain with her backhand, she had properly stunned Gil, long enough for her to free herself from being Gil's dog, and long enough for her to reach her feet. Gil looked up to her still taken-aback from the blow. If she wasn't sure of it before, it was clear now, she had gotten the better of Karla. She looked much rougher than she did at the start, not just from natural ware-and-tear that one could expect from a match, but something about her eyes said that she was about to really show Gil a good time.

Gil sunk down into herself, staring up at the redhead, her hands shook out in front of her in a weak attempt to guard herself. Karla brandished the leash like a whip, and knowing the pain caused by a simple slap, the damage she could inflict with that was enough to make Gil tremble. "I-I'll bark...! Ruff, ruff! See, I'm a good doggy...!" Gil tried to crawl back away from Karla, but her high-pithed barks didn't give the satisfaction that Karla wished for, and there would be hell to pay for that.

Once. The leash zipped down, crashing into the middle of Gil's back, sending her flat onto her stomach. Twice. Another lash was given, this time lower down upon her back, sending her bouncing up off mat slightly before falling back down onto it. Thrice. Another lash, right in the same spot as the second, turning Gil's squeals of pain into cries, and screams. Two lines pinkened across her back, the one lower thicker due to the last hitting twice, just slightly lower the third time.

Gil reached her hands up to the bottom rope, she wanted to get up onto her hands and knees but was too scared too, she didn't want to face Karla, she didn't want her to see her crying. Her tears fell down onto the mat beneath her. She bit her lip to halt the sounds of whimpering from leaving her lips.

A state that danced between withered and enthralled, marred and burnt, scarred and hollow, yet filled with more life than perhaps at perfect health. That was the epitome of anger — the grip that sweat as it clenched the leash, the lucid motions in each arm swing, swelled by adrenaline until lifting became like a feather and downward weighed like led; and behind each and every frown, twitch of the brow and snarl that salivated those smeared lips, there was a smile.

〝See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it? D’aaw…〞

The animalism reincarnated into a smile; a gravel turn that melted into soft butter but its end, close to a coo. Her hands reached to snatch Gil’s ankles and yank her back from the ropes, then plunged a foot against between their shoulder blades. She leaned down, malice dripped from a ragged breath as though it were blood, sheathed by a silky voice.

〝Putrid little thing, don’t be afraid.〞

The foot applied all weight, focused around the high heel point that drove like a dull knife.

〝You’re in my care now —for the remainder of our time together.〞

One hand settled both ends of the rope, given slack to form a U that swung down and tried to hook Gil’s throat. Her foot eased pressure and she took a deep breath.

〝I’ll show you how to really fight. That I promise.〞

And then, her foot stiffened and exploded pressure onto their upper-back; elbows cocked back with ironclad fists that held the leash to choke the windpipe.

〝SO, SAY THANK YOU!〞

What little security and comfort she gained from holding the rope tightly was stripped away from her, Karla's gripped her ankles tight and swept her away from even the smallest hint at an escape she had. Karla's fire had been lit, her fiery spirit burnt everything that came close to it, her anger could really only be focused on one thing, however, and that was Gil, the single reason she had to face any kind of resistance or humiliation at all was because of her, and she would have hell to pay for it.

A pressure stabbed into her back, pressing her chest flat against the mat. Beneath the boot of her superior, she was locked in place, no squirming could break her free now, and in the end, it may only serve to further anger Karla, who already had more the enough reasons to beat and humiliate Gil.

"I already know how to fight, I don't need-" A simple yank upward stopped Gil mid-sentence and caused her to choke on her words. Her hands clutched the leash tight, pulling downward with all of her weight, gargling on saliva, craving nothing more than a fresh breath of air.

Gil had been brought down from any resistance she had left in her with now even the right to breath being something she had to fight for. Karla made sure she knew her place, and that place was as her dog, nothing more. Drool ran down the side of her mouth, her torturer giving no slack for her to take advantage of, she caved and spat out the only words she was sure Karla would respond to. "T-thank you, Miss K-karla...!"