L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Goddess' Claim Match
The individual entering the match as the "goddess" must force her opponent to concede her godhood. The challenger must force the "goddess" to concede that she is not a goddess.

Safiya Ashour respected two things above all else: a heavy bank transfer and a woman who understood that wrestling served as a business, not a brawl. She also adored when fellow session workers possessed the good sense to prioritize the aesthetic over the athletic - and offered her the proper respect in the process.

Natasha Vaughn. Safiya admitted she had not heard the name prior to the booking, but she rarely wasted energy keeping tabs on other wrestlers in her "genre" unless absolutely necessary. She tracked annoyances like Wendy, mostly to ensure the woman got smothered out by someone else or to find an opportunity to do it herself, but otherwise, Safiya focused on Safiya. However, through shared channels - LAW, Safiya's "entourage," and the private networks of session wrestling - they had arranged an agreement. Not a match, precisely, though they would call it such, but a showcase where their particular talents would shine. The kind of arrangement Safiya most favored: making a wealth of money while ensuring she enjoyed herself immensely in the process.

They planned to mat wrestle here, in one of the prop rooms within the main arena - a specialized apartment setup with proper lighting and cameras. High-quality mats covered the floor, bordered by plush furnishings they could call into play if the spirit moved them. The Egyptian, slowly morphing more and more into the Goddess Neith with every passing second before their meeting began, peered back at the room with pleasure as she finished the last bit of work on the camera. She adjusted the lens, ensuring it captured enough of the room to give them space to work without losing the intimacy of the close-up.

In this suitable arena, they would grapple until Natasha conceded that Neith was indeed her goddess... or the goddess admitted she was not one at all. Of course, Neith did not plan to do the latter. The arrangement they had made, however, sounded as if it could make her domination efforts all the easier.

That stood as one of the reasons why she had already decided she quite liked this woman. Never mind that Natasha's pictures promised a gorgeous opponent - a necessary bonus for this sort of performance and for Neith's enjoyment as she squeezed such a body - but she seemed to understand the value of spectacle. They planned to make this an event. They would lock each other down, and they would give each other a performance of suffering. That suited Neith more than plenty. Limited pain, maximum sensuality, a perfect show with a beautiful dance partner.

At the thought, she stood and stretched in front of the camera, admiring the image in the little monitor. The outfit she had chosen - a deep, blood-red latex - gleamed under the studio lights like liquid danger. The crop top hugged her heavy breasts, shimmering with every breath, while the high-cut bottoms elongated her thick, powerful thighs and showcased her soft, flat midriff. Matching vinyl sleeves covered her arms, and thigh-high tights of the same dark red encased her calves, promising a shiny, suffocating hell for anyone trapped between them. Even her hair, styled with glossy, blunt bangs today, framed her blue eyes with predatory intent.

She checked the clock. Ten minutes to go, and she was already prepared. Fantastic. Taking the opportunity, she strutted over to the prop couch - far more plush and impractical than a normal piece of furniture - and sat down. She crossed one gleaming, vinyl-clad leg over the other, her foot bouncing rhythmically in the air as she fixed her gaze on the door, waiting for her subject to arrive.

Spoiler

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Natasha was feeling particularly lucky lately. Her life was good, her adjustment to life in Japan was going well even if she still had a lot of trouble with the language, but luckily for her LAW provided with enough means to live without any concern or trouble. Her career was also going pretty well for a rookie, kickstarting very nicely and earning her a really good ratings in her matches, which turned into more bookings for her. Yes, everything was good for her and that night the redhead felt like she was being rewarded with her last match appointment. Nat had already fought in one of LAW’s hotels, now it was time for her to see one of the federation’s apartments.

That day’s match was special for more reasons than being an apartment match though. Again, it was something less intimidating than pro-wrestling and that felt closer to what Natasha did before in Club Exotica. That day she was going to meet with a session wrestler that had some sort of Goddess kind of persona going on and have a different kind of match. Instead of going for pins, submissions or orgasms, Nat had to make her rival admit she was no goddess, and the procclaimed Goddess had to do the opposite to Natasha. This was a match that promised being more about the feeling and ambience than straining wrestling. Natasha had never done session wrestling, but having experience at club wrestling she knew well that sometimes this show was less about ruthless fighting and more about knowing how to sell a narrative. That day with the help of her rival she would strive to do just that. Wearing the skin of her wrestling persona, Blaze, was thrilling and pleasant for Nat and always embraced the chance to do so. Of course, the fact that her rival, the self-procclaimed Goddess Neith was an incredibly beautiful woman only added to the situation.

With the thought that if her rival was approachable both of them could do great things that day, Nat arrived at the address she was given to by her manager. Ringing the door, a busy-looking stagehand let her in and pointed to a changing room she could use to get into her attire before walking into the “stage”. She changed into her outfit of choice for the day, a black latex combination of top and panties adorned with thighighs that fit her like a glove, and also gloves that fit her... well, like a glove. After that she was pointed to the area of the apartment that would serve as the arena. The redhead breathed deep to let Blaze surface and she walked in.

Spoiler

The place was made to look like a true apartment, but all the furniture was makeshift and had been moved out of the way to leave room to some wrestling mats that looked premium in quality, almost comfortable to be in. Of course what got most of Nat’s interest was the vynil-clad woman sitting on a sofa, her foot drawing circles in the air. There was definitely some divine presence to the raven-haired blue-eyed woman, the way she conducted herself was one that really knew how to sell a character. “Neith, right?”, said Natasha walking to the sitting woman, her intent to judge her character and seeing how difficult this one could be to work with, as happened to her in previous matches. If Neith proved easy to work with, however, this could make an incredible match. “I’m Blaze and I’ll be the one unmasking you today.” As she said this, Nat bent over to look at Neith eye to eye and throw her a confident and inviting grin.

Neith could hear the gentle, muted shuffling outside the apartment door long before the handle turned. She enjoyed this quiet prelude almost as much as the main event. Based on their conversation, she had more experience in this setting, so it made sense for her to do the preparation. But arriving early also offered her the opportunity to claim the room strategically. It ensured that when Natasha finally walked in, she would be walking into a tableau where Neith already served as the centerpiece. She remained perfectly still, her cheek resting lazily against her fist, her vinyl-clad leg still bouncing with a hypnotic rhythm, waiting for the curtain to rise.

When the door finally swung open and Blaze stepped into the arena, Neith’s bouncing foot stilled.

The woman... struck her, in person, moreso than their pictures. As her blue eyes swept over the figure in the doorway, she missed the smallest fracture in her usual detached composure. Blaze was a vision, dressed in sleek, black latex that hugged her figure with sinful precision. The dark material contrasted violently, beautifully, with the cascading waves of fiery orange hair. Neith took in the shine of the high-cut panties, the way the light caught the curve of her hips, and the sharp, confident line of the harness strapping across her back.

For a fleeting second, the "Goddess" slipped, and Safiya simply stared, caught unaware by the pull of genuine magnetism. They would look magnificent tangling together, red vinyl sliding against black latex, fire against fire.

Neith uncrossed her legs, the sound of the vinyl separating crying out in the quiet room. She rose slowly, deliberately, unfolding her height until she stood toe-to-toe with the redhead. She noted with satisfaction that they stood at similar heights, though their builds offered a sweet, subtle contrast. She stepped uncomfortably close, invading Blaze's personal space. When Blaze grinned and delivered her challenge, Neith didn't bristle. She simply chuckled, the husky sound remaining in her chest.

"Goddess Neith," she corrected smoothly, her voice a velvet purr. Knowing the cameras were already rolling to capture this sizzling tension, she reached out, her gloved fingers drifting up to lightly cup Blaze’s chin, tilting her face just a fraction higher. "I'm afraid the only mask involved today, beautiful, will be the mask of sweet, breathless agony you'll be wearing once I have that pretty head trapped between my thighs." She rubbed them together, letting her outfit sing its song, to emphasize the point.

She let her thumb brush against Blaze's lower lip before pulling her hand away, stepping back just enough to gesture grandly to the mats.

"Tell me... do you prefer to start your worship on your knees, admitting your place immediately? Or shall we begin standing, so I can have the pleasure of putting you down there myself?"

For a fleeting moment the self-proclaimed goddess just sat there, gazing at the vision Blaze presented her, almost enthralled. Of course no one watching from home would realize this happened but Nat was enough of a veteran in these kind of exchanges to notice. The feeling was mutual though. From her beautiful skin to her pitch black hair and piercing blue eyes, Neith was a stunning marvel and for just that instant both women enjoyed the magnetism both exuded. Yes, that was going to be a good match.

When Neith finally slowly rose and approached way too close to Nat she showed how her movements were deliberate and with a lot of magnetism to them. If Blaze needed any more proof of how good this woman was at creating atmosphere and tension she would get it when Neith grabbed her delicately by the chin, a movement Nat allowed. Then the Egyptian’s chuckle and purr were like a dart aimed directly at the redhead’s willpower. Her words and the song of her vinyl-clad thighs rubbing almost unmade Blaze. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”, the redhead found herself thinking, her lower lip parting a little as the only sign of her captivation. She had to admit the thought of diving deep between that woman’s thighs was getting more and more enticing by the second.

Natasha breathed in relief when Neith broke some distance. That beat had been so enticing the redhead found herself too close to just surrendering to that woman’s magnetic sensuality right away and embrace her, but she remembered she had a fight to present. Neith played along with her goddess part in allowing Nat to decide how the match would start, and Blaze would take that opportunity and make the most out of it. “Well, if you really want to prove you are that you claim I’m gonna make you work for it.”, she stated with her confidence high, planting her feet on the mat and adopting a guard stance. “Now come here, Neith.” Blaze went slowly around her rival’s name just to highlight that she wasn’t calling her Goddess.

Mmmm.

Neith possessed senses honed by years of this work, and she had not missed that fleeting moment when Blaze's lower lip parted ever so slightly. That tiny tell, that involuntary reaction when Neith had rubbed her thighs together and made her threat. She wasn't opposed to the idea altogether, was she? Blaze might deny her title, but her body had already betrayed a flicker of interest. The thought of diving between those vinyl-clad thighs was enticing her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Neith could use that. Neith believed herself above such things.

Nonetheless, the absence of her title roused the goddess' irritation, signaled by the slightest twitch in her lidded gaze. Bold. Very bold. Most opponents either embraced the worship immediately or surrendered to it after the first few minutes. This one, however, seemed determined to make her earn every syllable of reverence.

She watched Blaze settle into her guard stance, feet planted, hands raised defensively. The redhead's confidence radiated from her posture, her invitation a clear challenge. She believed she could make Neith "work." How delightful. Neith allowed herself a slow, dangerous smile as she began to prowl in a circle, her vinyl-clad thighs whispering with each deliberate step.

"Just 'Neith,'" she repeated, her voice carrying a note of theatrical disappointment. She continued her orbit, forcing Blaze to turn with her, studying the way the black latex moved with the redhead's body. "We'll have to correct that, won't we?"

Let the anticipation build. The cameras were capturing everything, and Neith knew how to play to them without making it obvious. She kept her movements fluid, almost serpentine, her blue eyes locked on Blaze's face even as she tracked the woman's stance, looking for openings. The redhead hadn't gotten this confident - or to LAW, she supposed - without some genuine skill to back it up. That only made the eventual submission sweeter. Neith completed another half-circle, coming around to Blaze's right side now, never quite closing the distance entirely.

"You know," Neith said, her tone conversational despite the predatory stalking, "I've put women far larger than you between these thighs." She ran her gloved hands slowly down her own hips, tracing the curve of red vinyl as the skin dimpled beneath the gentle pressure. "Strong women. Trained women. Women who thought they could resist."

She paused in her circling, standing just outside striking range, her head tilted slightly as if considering something. "They all said my name eventually. Every. Single. One." Each word dropped like a promise. "But I do appreciate enthusiasm. It makes the breaking so much more... memorable."

Without further warning, Neith lunged forward, closing the distance. Her arms shot out, reaching for a collar-and-elbow lockup, aiming to engage Blaze directly and test the woman's strength. She wanted to feel how the redhead moved, how she responded to pressure, whether that confidence was backed by genuine power or just bravado. Her fingers sought purchase on Blaze's shoulders and the back of her neck, ready to push, to test, to begin the process of taking this beautiful creature apart piece by piece.

As Natasha liked to say, it takes a performer to notice another performer. It had been proved true, at least on the redhead’s perspective, and now she had a trained eye to see all those telltale details that would hint at a true great person to work with in her line of work. So far Neith had proven being a wonderful partner in crime. There was some alluring magnetism to everything she did. It was written on the Egyptian’s body language, how she knew how to make that vinyl sing with her movements and how her words carried the perfect tone of playfulness and regal presence. Her choice of words and movements was sublime and Natasha knew from the very start this could be one of those match that made great numbers. To make a comparisson with something from her past, Natasha could feel the difference between someone she faced before like Lola “the Body” who was threatening, cold and wanted to exercise her cruelty and this woman who enriched any scene she was a part of, and this excited the redhead.

Now Neith was reaffirming all this by theatrically playing her disappointment at Natasha for not accepting to call her Goddess, which was funny because that was precisely the match’s main victory condition so Nat’s defiance wasn’t only good for the show but expected. The Egyptian started walking around mirroring Natasha’s first threat to her space, all while stating how she was going to correct Nat for her insolence. Yes. That woman was pretty good at setting a scene. “You can try.”, responded Natasha with a wry smirk and some playful tone. She was having so much fun just by building the tension, seeing how she could turn Neith’s regal presence against her, all while trying push away the thoughts of how those thighs would feel against her face.

Neith kept circling, both women measuring the rival, while the Egyptian kept with her speech of how she had broken the will of different kind of women before and how she intended to do just that to Natasha, and yeah, the redhead could concur that “memorable” was a good word to put what was going to happen.

Just at the moment Blaze was going to come back at Neith with a witty retort that would defy her authority once again, the Egyptian decided that the time for talk was done and to take the initiative, rushing forwards Nat without any warning. The redhead could only react in time because she was already on guard, sealing a collar and elbow lock with Neith. Nat grunted at the sudden contact but planted her feet on the ground and began steadily pushing. However, pure strength displays weren’t Nat’s forte and Neith was a strong woman. Grunting in effort, Natasha’s control started slipping away, but so far only her partner would notice. What she would do with that was just up to the Egyptian.

Neith had been with enough clients, enough opponents, enough admirers to recognize the signs. It wasn't just the slight parting of Blaze's lips when she'd rubbed her thighs together - it was everything. The way the redhead's eyes tracked Neith's movements with perhaps a bit more focus than pure competition demanded. The way she listened when Neith spoke, not just hearing the words but absorbing them, processing them. The tiny micro-expressions that flickered across that beautiful face before Blaze could school them back into confident defiance.

And then the woman offered such a simple response, but delivered with just enough breathiness, just enough edge to confirm what Neith suspected. This woman wasn't just here to compete. Some part of her - perhaps buried beneath the bravado, perhaps closer to the surface than Blaze would ever admit - wanted to experience what Neith promised. She would, if she were wise.

The thought sent a thrill through Neith that had nothing to do with competition and everything to do with the hunt. This wasn't just a showcase match anymore. This was an opportunity to find ways to form cracks in someone who wanted to be broken, to force a submission from someone who would savor it even as they resisted it.

And Neith still wasn't acknowledging that she herself wanted that end for this woman more than most of her opponents or clients. She found her own pleasure in the way Blaze reacted, beyond just self-satisfaction.

And to the end of breaking her... Neith poured her weight forward, using every advantage her body offered. Her frame, slightly larger and heavier than Blaze's, pressed into the lockup with focused intent. Her shoulders drove forward, her back arched to maximize the power transfer, but it was her lower body that truly displayed its strength.

Her thighs - those powerful, vinyl-clad pillars - flexed and pushed, the red material stretching taut over dense muscle that rippled with exertion. Her hips shifted forward, lowering her center of gravity, making her immovable. The curve of her ass tightened as she engaged her glutes, adding even more force to the forward pressure. Every line of her lower body spoke of coiled power, of strength built through years of crushing opponents between those very thighs. The cameras would capture it beautifully.

And through it all, Neith stared directly into Blaze's eyes.

Her hands, still gripping Blaze's shoulders and neck, explored as much as they controlled. She felt the heat of the redhead's skin through the black latex, felt the lean muscle beneath, the tension building as Blaze tried to hold her ground. The body beneath her hands was pleasing in and of itself. The kind of body she might have genuinely appreciated in different circumstances.

The redhead was strong, certainly, but Neith had the advantage here, and they both knew it now. Without warning, Neith twisted. She used the leverage she'd gained, the forward momentum she'd built, and pivoted sharply to her right. Her hands shifted their grip - one releasing Blaze's neck to grab at her hip, the other pushing hard at her shoulder. The movement was designed to spin the redhead around, to turn that backward pressure into rotational force, to lead her toward the couch. Then she shoved - hard.

The goal wasn't just to move Blaze backward but to overwhelm her, to send her tumbling onto that plush, impractical couch, where she would sink - and Neith would plan to hop right into her lap.

Anyone watching that match live from home via streaming or the thousands that would watch it on demand later thanks to LAW subscriptions wouldn’t be capable of noticing a subtle detail that wasn’t obvious to anyone but to the two women clashing that day. Natasha had faced a lot of different rivals through her career as a club wrestler: there were those that wanted to prove themselves, those who didn’t care much or some who were in it just for the sex and the money. There were also some that had a chip on their shoulders and wanted to get to the top no matter who they would have to stomp to get there, and those were the worst ones. However, all of them were cut by a similar cloth and Natasha knew how to deal with each one of them once she had assessed their character.

Then there was Neith. It was pretty clear just at a glance that this woman was something else. This wasn’t a wench willing to get some quick bucks by tussling in a mat against another hot body. No, this was an artist, a performer, the same way as Natasha saw herself and the very reason that made her pursue the bigger leagues. Neith was one of her first rivals at LAW and straightaway the redhead could tell this was in another different league, quite literally and metaphorically. There was some magnetism to Neith that made her almost irresistible and the Egyptian knew it and knew how to capitalize it. This wouldn’t be a simple test of physicality to show who was the best sexual grappler, no. That match was going to be a true test of sensual might. Neither of the women present wanted to just outfuck their rival, they wanted to do it while both physically and mentally conquering the rival. This added several layers to the match that made it wow so enticing for Natasha. That was exactly what she seeked at LAW and it was presented to her in an incredibly luscious package.

Back to the action, Natasha was doing her best to keep pushing in order to keep her options in that hold but slowly and surely Neith was overpowering her. Nat was at a disadvantage there, both with her position and her inferior strength. Then there were those piercing ice-blue eyes, staring at her as if they could read in her soul and daring her to look away and look in awe at the Egyptian’s sculpted body at work. As tempting as it was, Blaze reassured herself and kept her gaze fixed on those eyes. It was like a challenge within a challenge: look away and you lose.

Neith wasn’t interested in keeping that staredown much longer because she suddenly shifted her pushing and sent Natasha against a couch before gracefully hopping into her lap, getting the situation way more heated than what the redhead was expecting for the beginning of the match. “Oh wow.”, she just said, a little taken aback but quickly recovering and wrapping her arms around Neith’s waist to keep her in place, accepting whatever challenge she was issuing.

The entire sequence thrilled Neith in ways that went beyond simple physical dominance. The power struggle itself had been delicious - feeling her strength overcome Blaze's resistance, watching the redhead's body adjust and compensate in real-time, seeing those micro-expressions flicker across her face as she realized she was being moved exactly where Neith wanted her. But the best part - the moment that sent genuine pleasure coursing through Neith's body - came when she dropped into Blaze's lap.

The impact resonated through both their bodies. Neith felt her thick, vinyl-clad ass slap down against Blaze's shapely, latex-covered thighs, the contact producing a sound that was simultaneously sharp and sensual. The weight of her landing compressed those lean muscles beneath her, and Neith could feel the give, the slight bounce, before Blaze's legs firmed up to support her.

The visual would be spectacular. The cameras positioned around them would capture it from multiple angles - the contrast of deep red vinyl against glossy black latex, bronze skin against paler complexion, Neith's curves settling heavily onto Blaze's more compact frame. The difference in their coloring, their outfits, their builds - all of it would read beautifully on screen. Lucy would be pleased.

But it was Blaze's verbal reaction that nearly broke Neith's composure.

Just two words, breathless and unguarded, and they hit Neith like a shot of pure validation. A laugh threatened to bubble up from Neith's chest - not mocking, but delighted, almost euphoric. The sound of a woman who believed she'd already won, who could feel her opponent's desire radiating through those simple syllables.

Then Blaze's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling them closer, and Neith felt the firmness of that grip. They had agreed this would have performative elements, yes - this was a showcase as much as a competition. But Neith had no intention of going soft. If Blaze wanted a show, she'd get one. But she'd feel every second of it.

Neith's own arms moved with practiced fluidity, snaking around Blaze's head. Her gloved hands found purchase at the back of the redhead's skull, fingers threading through those fiery locks as she pulled Blaze forward, trying to draw the other woman's face directly toward the deep valley between Neith's breasts - not to seal her off, not completely.

Normally - in a true session, in a competitive match where mercy was weakness - Neith would have pulled Blaze's face flush against her chest, creating an airtight seal that would smother and suffocate. She knew exactly how to position someone so their nose and mouth pressed uselessly against her sternum, how to use her breasts to cut off air, how to make them panic.

This time, she sought to let Blaze's nose rest against her sternum rather than be crushed by it. She angled the redhead's head slightly upward, maintaining just enough space that air could still flow, that breathing - while challenging - remained possible. The tilt that would bring their eyes back into alignment.

Natasha had been in a lot of matches previously to her career at LAW. It was part of a way less visible show but the roots of them were pretty similar and their natures were as well. One could say that it was about the sexual clash of hot bodies but that would be the understatement of the year because only those who really understood how this was part of a show of enticement, seduction and mental willpower had what was enough to get far in this. That’s what got Natasha and not any of the silly girls she fought back at the club. As Nat saw things, any stupid bimbo with no charisma could fingerblast another woman to orgasm, that was the easy part. However, that wouldn’t take one far and would make a pretty mild show. Instead, one had to own the ring and with that came not only owning her rival’s body but their mind, getting inside their head and playing them like a fiddle to make them lose and crave for more, leaving the crowd in the same state.

It turned out that by allowing the starter of the match to develop like that Natasha was making a pretty highly risky wager on wether Neith understood this key concept or not, and based on the Egyptian’s actions it was pretty clear that she knew what was going on and that was eager to play along. It would have been so easy for the Egyptian to just go for it and lock a solid breast smother that would make Natasha pass out, but that happening at the very beginning of the match would have proved a pretty dull show and would have made the two of them look bad. Instead, Blaze was welcome by the soft pressure of the Egyptian’s bust but the redhead had enough space to wiggle around and get some air here and there, securing her oxygen supply so she wouldn’t pass out. This was more a controlling move, something that asked “what are you going to do now?”

To Blaze what to do was clear. The redhead wasn’t known for hiding from a challenge and she had a bountiful prize at her reach so she just started claiming it, double down on Neith’s moves and burying her face in the woman’s chest. Soon enough Nat had enough feeling of the supple breasts and allowed her tongue to come out and play, lashing against Neith soft skin and pressing against her breasts. When Nat’s head was tilted by Neith and their eyes locked into each other the Egyptian could see the hungry challenge the redhead was issuing, a game of chicken of sorts to see who could endure more.