L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Fighters : Kurenai Yamazaki vs Faelyn Sinclaire

Fighters~

Match Type: Standard Hentai

Match Win Condition: The match follows standard hentai rules: first to three orgasms or until one fighter reaches sexual exhaustion.

Unique Match Rules:
Once the winner is decided, they insert their glowing sticks into the loser’s pussy and ass.

Fighter Attire:
Both fighters wear a tiny skirt that barely covers their panties and clearly exposes their camel toe. They are also dressed in thigh-high boots, transparent bras, and matching chokers. Each carries 2 matching glowing sticks to be used at the end of the fight.

Venue:
A ring set up inside a club, styled like a strip-dancing stage with no ropes. The floor is heavily cushioned to reduce impact and prevent injury.

Venue~

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Faelyn Sinclaire was a live wire wrapped in attitude debut-night nerves buried so deep beneath bravado that not a single soul in that arena would ever find them. This was her moment: her first official LAW match, her real baptism by fire, and the fact that she'd been thrown against a seasoned veteran like Kurenai Yamazaki only sharpened her hunger. She hadn't come to pay her dues. She'd come to take what she wanted and leave the legend in pieces.

The arena plunged into darkness.
Her entrance theme detonated through the speakers heavy bass, snarling guitars, drums like a war drum calling a charge. Faelyn erupted onto the stage.
No hesitation. No wide-eyed rookie wonder. Just arms thrown wide, chin tilted up, and a grin sharp enough to cut glass. The crowd roared for someone they didn't even know yet, and she drank every second of it like it was already hers.

She owned the ramp on the way down each step deliberate, each roll of her hips a punctuation mark. Then she stopped. Dead center, right in front of the ring apron, in full view of every camera and every pair of eyes in the house. Then a slow, theatrical kiss blown toward the entrance ramp her advance greeting to Kurenai, wherever she was watching.

The smirk that followed said everything else.

Faelyn slid under the top rope with fluid, athletic ease, her blue ring attire catching the light , Glowsticks Shining as she popped to her feet in a single motion. She rolled her shoulders back, cracked her neck left then right, and settled into a loose bounce in the far corner sharp eyes already fixed on the entrance ramp, waiting.

Kurenai had to say, when she asked management to give her something to do, she hadn't envisioned that this what they would find for her.

She supposed she couldn't complain. She had come to Japan wanting to get into hentai matches, and a wide array of them, too, so engaging in these unorthodox conditions was a given. Still, if she had her preferences, she would have vied for something more low-key, more intimate, more refined. At the very least, she would’ve gone for something that would have let her wear her regular attire, instead of…this. Not that she had any problem wearing skimpy clothing, but it was a touch less functional than she would’ve gone with, otherwise.

Beggars did not get to choose, she supposed, and she wasn’t going to complain if they insisted on going the extra mile for her match. She came out promptly enough, making her way towards the unconventional ring with a little skip in her step, her bare feet gliding across the floor as she approached.

It was only once she was in the ring that she had a full look at her foe, Faelyn, and what a look it was. A dark, voluptuous beauty, the woman had no qualms in showing off her generous figure, something that Kurenai could well appreciate. She took a moment to look her over, head to toe, and gave an approving nod, along with a slim smile. She liked what she saw, and she wanted Faelyn to know she liked what she saw.

”こんにちは” She straighened and bowed towards her foe, respectful even in these surroundings, before she moved back to her corner and awaited the bell.

Faelyn’s smirk faltered for half a heartbeat the second Kurenai stepped into the ring.

Shorter.

The word hit like a cheap shot. Here she was—debut night, lights blazing, crowd already eating out of her hand and management had the nerve to feed her a goddamn pixie? Faelyn’s jaw tightened, fire licking up her spine. She made a mental note to drag the bookers into the parking lot later and explain exactly how she felt about being “tested” with someone she could suplex one-handed. But that was for after the bell.

Right now, her eyes dragged slowly down Kurenai’s body appreciative, yes, but mostly jealous. The woman was stacked in all the right places, curves poured into that barely-there outfit like it had been painted on. Faelyn felt a sharp little twist in her gut. Cute. Real cute. She wasn’t about to let the veteran know it.

She tossed her glowing sticks into the corner with a casual flick, the plastic clattering against the mat. Then she rolled her neck once, cracked her knuckles, and sauntered straight toward the center of the ring like she already owned it.

Stopping just inside Kurenai’s personal space, Faelyn dipped into an exaggerated, theatrical bow deep, slow, mocking as hell. One hand even fluttered dramatically over her heart.

“Konichi-waaah~” she drawled in the most obnoxious fake-Japanese singsong she could muster, dragging the syllables like cheap bubblegum.

She straightened up with a razor-sharp grin, eyes glittering with pure trouble.

“Hope you stretched, shortstack. Wouldn’t want you pulling something when I fold you in half for the cameras.”

Then The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, cutting through the rising roar of the crowd

“LET THE PARTY BEGIN!”

The bell rang.

Faelyn’s grin sharpened into something feral. She stepped back, light on the balls of her feet arms loose, body coiled with tension. Then, with a slow curl of her fingers, she beckoned Kurenai to make the first strike.

This outfit was itchy.

Kurenai didn’t have a problem with how revealing the outfit was - if anything, that was a plus. She had shame in hiding her body, and would wrestle nude if given half a chance, but this one clung oddly to her body, digging into her skin in tight ways. She much preferred the freedom her usual attire afforded her, but management had insisted on this apparel, so she was making the best of it.

She had been fidgeting with her attire when Faelyn came over and made her titanic presence known, looming large over Kurenai and casting a long shadow. She looked up, blinking, as the woman sounded out her language, then spoke plainly and called her a…shortstack. Kurenai’s mastery of the English language was a far cry from perfect, she knew, and she was unfamiliar with the term. Just going off the way Faelyn said it, however, she could hazard a guess that it was not meant to be a term of endearment.

That was all and good, though. Kurenai was not here to be endeared. She was her to fight and fuck, preferably at the same time. And on that note, there was the bell.

”Catch.”

Faelyn had discarded her glowsticks, but Kurenai still had hers, and she hurled them at Faelyn’s face like kunai, letting them soar through the air. They likely wouldn’t hurt all that much, even if they did, but that was hardly the point - she just wanted a distraction. She rushed, closed the distance in an instant, and swung her leg out with swift roundhouse kick, one that went straight for her opponent’s ribs.

The bell rang out sharp and final, and Kurenai exploded forward like a goddamn bullet. First came the glowsticks two bright streaks hurled straight at Faelyn’s face like kunai. She flinched, swatting them aside with a broad forearm; the plastic clattered harmlessly across the mat, strobing uselessly against the arena lights. Distraction bought, the little Japanese firecracker was already inside her guard, leg whipping up in a vicious roundhouse aimed square at Faelyn’s ribs.

No time to dodge. Faelyn’s body knew the drill from a hundred brawls and worse. She twisted at the hips, tensing every muscle across her broad back and side, turning the incoming strike into a glancing blow instead of a clean shot. The kick still landed with a heavy, meaty thud that drove the air from her lungs and ripped a low, guttural growl from her throat. Pain flared hot along her ribs, but she was already moving hand snapping down like iron trap.

Her fingers clamped around Kurenai’s ankle mid-recoil, locking the shorter woman’s leg against her own body. Kurenai was suddenly balanced on one foot, the other held high in Faelyn’s grip. A slow, wicked smirk curled across Faelyn’s lips, the kind that promised nothing good.

“Gotcha, shortstack.”

She yanked the captured leg forward hard, hauling Kurenai off-balance and dragging her straight into Faelyn’s space. At the same time her free fist rocketed forward thick knuckles aimed like a sledgehammer at the Japanese warrior’s cheek as a payback

Kurenai was trained to analyze her opponents, to look for weaknesses and find areas of entry, but she was having some trouble doing that with Faelyn. There was an odd aura about the woman. She gave off the party girl vibe, fun and carefree, but she couldn't shake the feeling that, beneath that saccharine veneer, something a touch more sinister brewed.

It was not a major problem, she figured. Sometimes, the best way to learn about someone was to engage. To test them. To feel them. She had every intention of doing that as she brought the fight straight to her foe. The kick was swift and clean, and it found its target, sinking deep into the woman’s bulging body.

But not coming out. Faelyn might not have had the reflexes to dodge such an attack, but she was capable enough to grab hold of it after the impact, leaving Kurenai to awkwardly hop about on one foot, leaving her vulnerable.

The good news was that, like this, she didn’t have to guess where the attack would be coming from. Faelyn only had one fist to spare, and that was the one she launched Kurenai’s face. The ninjette brought her hands up and managed to block the blow, but it still sent her reeling in the guard, and she nearly lost her balance. This was a poor position.

Thankfully, she still had options. Instead of falling down right away, Kurenai lifted her other leg up and swung it around, trying to kick Faelyn in the side of her head with an enziguiri.

Faelyn felt the punch connect with something solid, but it wasn’t the satisfying crack of knuckle on jaw she’d hoped for. Kurenai’s forearms snapped up at the last second, absorbing the heavy blow and turning it into a dull thud that still rocked the smaller woman backward. Faelyn clicked her tongue in irritation—should’ve just swept the damn leg—but there was no time to dwell on it.

She saw the shift in Kurenai’s balance, that little hop on one foot, the free leg already coiling like a spring. The Japanese fighter was going for an enzuigiri, that flashy spinning heel kick to the side of the head. Faelyn had seen enough late-night wrestling streams to recognize the setup.

The leg whipped up fast, a blur of toned muscle and bare skin. Faelyn barely got her arm back in time. The heel smashed into her raised forearm and elbow with a meaty smack, the force jolting all the way up to her shoulder and driving her own arm back into the side of her own head. Stars flared behind her eyes for a split second, but the impact was nothing compared to what it would have been clean.

The kick still had force behind it. It knocked Faelyn a stuttering half-step sideways and loosened her grip on Kurenai’s trapped ankle just a fraction but that was all it took.

Kurenai dropped prone to the canvas, her leg still caught tight between Faelyn’s arm and ribs.

“Door closes… another one opens,Shortie.”

A slow, hungry grin spread across Faelyn’s face.

Then She pivoted on her heel to face the center of the ring, keeping control of the captured leg. In one smooth motion, she dropped backward, aiming sit on Kurena’s ass and to pin Kurenai to the mat with her weight. At the same time, she adjusted her hold on the ankle, twisting it as she worked to secure the grip. Leaning back and arching her spine, Faelyn tried to lock in a deep ankle hold, putting pressure on the joint as she attempted to fully cinch it in.

More data was coming in - Faelyn was strong.

Not freakishly strong, but stronger than Kurenai would have guessed at a first glance, not a bodybuilder something freakish like that, but there was some real power underneath all those tempting curves, raw muscle beneath the generous flesh. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was clear now that, while speed would be her advantage in this fight, power was well on Faelyn’s side, but a sizeable gulf.

And she was tough, too. Faelyn blocked the enziguiri, but even so, Kurenai expected the woman to be stunned, at least enough to drop the leg. Instead, she held on tight as she flopped to the floor, keeping her ankle secure.

Kurenai liked that look in her eyes not at all.

In the next moment, Faelyn was spinning about, dropping back, and twisting Kurenai’s ankle at an obscene angle, showing no small amount of submission prowess all the while. The ninjette gritted her teeth and hissed, fighting through the pain, but she knew this wasn’t something to be endured - no, she needed out of it, and post-haste. There was only one, simple solution she could see.

Kurenai dug her fingers into the canvas and made a mad scramble for the side of the ring, trying to make it to the ropes. No small task with Faelyn’s weight on her butt, but she had to make a try for it, regardless. Having her ankle seriously hurt this quickly in a match would spell certain doom.

Faelyn felt every desperate inch of Kurenai’s struggle through the trapped ankle. The little ninjette was clawing at the canvas like a cornered animal, fingers digging in deep, trying to drag them both toward the ropes despite the crushing weight parked on her plump ass. Sweat slicked their skin Faelyn’s heavy tits heaving, Kurenai’s toned back glistening under the lights and the heat between them was already turning the mat slippery.

A low, throaty chuckle rolled out of Faelyn as she arched back even harder, cranking the ankle lock tighter for a heartbeat just to hear that pretty hiss of pain. The ropes were close She wasn’t about to let this fiery little shortstack buy herself a some time to breathe.

“Nuh-uh, baby. Not happening.”

In one smooth motion Faelyn released the full weight from Kurenai’s ass, rising just enough to spin on her heel. She kept her grip on the ankle the whole time. With a sharp tug, she tried to drag Kurenai back toward the center of the ring. As soon as Kurenai was clear of the ropes, Faelyn moved to drop her weight down again. She aimed to pivot and drive herself onto Kurenai’s lower back in a Butt-drop, looking to knock the air from her lungs and pin her flat against the mat.

Kurenai would concede, this match was not starting in the way she hoped. She would not say she had reached the point of hopelessness yet, not by any means - even she had watched enough wrestling to see situations far less dire than this be reversed. But it would be fair to say that she had a good deal of ground to make up, despite the match being fairly young.

Three orgasms to score, and she was already in searing pain. This would be a longer matchup, she suspected.

Kurenai pushed such thoughts aside and continued her arduous journey towards the side of the ring, as the referee circled about them. Faelyn’s crushing weight made the task Herculean, but she suffered through it, fought for every inch, almost there, almost there-

Abruptly, the weight was gone, and Kurenai only a few seconds of confusion before Faelyn’s weight came crashing down on her spine, feeling like it nearly bisected her on the impact. Kurenai arched her back and let out a sharp, hoarse cry, before she flopped back to the canvas and seethed with the pain, writhing beneath her foe’s fulsome form.

The woman knew how to employ her weight for maximum effect, she would give her that much.