Karla Reinhardt vs Yahagi Fujimoto

[LunarOcean]

Submission/Hentai/Knockout Win Condition

It was very easy to make someone like Yahagi excited for a match. It wasn't necessarily a tough opponent, one who could match her mixture of sensuality and technique, but sometimes just an opponent who could match her body. Yahagi for all her talents did not really see herself as above most other wrestlers and she had few pretensions about what she was doing. All she needed as a quick glance at Karla, a skim of her profile, and her agent found her requesting a match before they could even finish their coffee break.

The image of the fearsome redhead with a stern expression stayed fresh in Yahagi's mind. The lights of the arena and titantron, the roar of the crowds, they did little to diminish its burning intensity even before the neon-swamped cacophony. Nobody could tell; the muscular middleweight had the same pep in her step and a slight skip, wearing a rather skimpy black bikini that barely covered her posterior and struggled against her chest.

In turn, its pure black seemed to accent other parts of her body. Yahagi was a middlweight but clearly nearing the upper limits. Powerful muscles rippled across her sleek arms, her rigidly bumped chest, and her impressively sharp legs. Every inch of her looked sculpted; not perfectly so but with the right tinge of untamed rawness to its musculature to compliment her perpetually excited, subtly lustful expression.

She wasn't just looking for a match, something that Karla might be able to tell by the way her cat-like gaze would near immediately lock onto her own whens he entered. By the way her abs casually undulated as she leaned back and yawned, the redhead might get the idea this Japanese hardbody had a very different kind of wreslting on mind.

[Monsy]

The lights of white walls cast a dull reflection upon the blue carpet. There she sat on a polished oak bench, arms swathed in red-trimmed black latex sleeves that squeezed her toned bicep, crossed, a leg over the other, each donned in black and gold boots, with a knee-pad of gold and thigh-thigh extension laced in red, each one bearing her initials in large assorted colour - K.R.R. Her top was a marriage between leather and latex, the former which supported her ample breasts, the latter cloaked the rest into a screen that went to her black collar, and in its centre bore her logo of red, gold and a white inner-lining.

"Yahagi Fujimoto." A woman said. The one and only apathetic Adelaide Reinhardt. She was dressed in a black blazer, a white dress-shirt fit tightly and tucked beneath her black dress pants. Her hair was also red, but unlike Karla's that dragged down like a fur-cloak, Adelaide's was neatly bound in a ponytail, except for bangs of hair on the flanks.

"She's a hugger with an insatiable love for women. I'd expect a good core workout." Adelaide added.

"You got anything useful for me? Any weaknesses? Prior injuries? Fears? Anything? Hey, we're you going?!" Karla barked as Adelaide left towards the door, opened it, "Get back here!"

Adelaide stopped, shut the door and pressed her back against it, grinning and stared with gaping golden eyes, lined in black rings. Karla stood, strutted over, and lifted her finger to Adelaide's chin. "Give me something to work with." Adelaide shielded one side of her mouth with a clipboard and whispered, "Love her back." She straightened, opened the door and walked out, still talking as she strode down the hall. An arm waved as Karla followed and slammed the door behind herself. "Now go get her, Miss Main Event. Karolina is cheering for you."

Karla scoffed, "Liar." Then made her way to the ring.

theme

appearance

The lights dimmed as Karla's music began its slow quake; low orchestra, the choir voice and an explosion of electric guitar. Spotlights donned on Karla's toned figure, fit with crevices that lined her six-pack abs, bountiful thighs and wide hips that sashayed as she strode down the ramp. All the attention she craved in these precious minutes. Boos, whistles, shouts, and whatever fate had for the self-proclaimed Main Event, who took to the steps and walked the apron with an arm over the top rope. She blew a kiss to someone in the front row, marked with generous lipstick, but her intentions melted as she showed him the middle finger. Her other hand snapped to summon the referee, not even meeting her gaze as she shuffled over, sat upon the ropes so she would enter, then raise her arms to bask another parade of shouts, just as her music died down and the lights restored. It wasn't until the crowd's white noise became predominant that Karla took to drink in her opponent's look for the first time.

"You must feel honoured to actually meet the Main Event in person. Heh, I'll turn you into a classic humiliation.."

[LunarOcean]

"You look more like the main course. Is that a fetish you're suggesting?"

Yahagi's tone was brisk and light, contrasting her otherwise sculpted-hard body. One elbow rested on her left palm and her chin upon the right one. Her tongue slid across her lips. She'd gotten a very careful view of Karla's body as she made her way to the ring and she liked what she saw. The girl seemed rather stiff, mean spirited perhaps, but she wondered if she liked being both the giver and receiver of the sort of techniques Yahagi specialized in. She smirked at the suggestion of humiliation. Perhaps this woman could do so but she had the feeling the sort of wrestling Yahagi specialized in was foreign to her sort; she did look a bit stiff in how stuck up she came off as.

The sort of girl who needed to be loosened up and Yahagi knew exactly how.

"You don't seem very subtle. Who wears that much lipstick to a wrestling match? It's going to be quite unsightly in an hour or so you know?" Yahagi took a few steps towards the centre of the ring, her body swishing and sashaying, subtly jiggling her far less covered rack near offeringly to the redhead. Yet it wasn't long before she'd take a fighting stance. "But your lips won't be the only thing I'll be going to town on~"

The bell would ring and Yahagi would make her move. Her ponytail whipped behind her as she darted and ducked low almost like a boxer, zig-zagging left and right in an attempt to close in fast. Yet rather than a high strike, she'd go low and sweep not with her foot acrosss the mat but with a low kick aimed at the side of her opponent's knees. It was unlikely to knock Karla over but she would aim to disbalance her. If she staggered if it hit, Yahagi would attempt to shoot her other leg over while putting her left side on the mat. The aim was to lock her feet and ankles around Karla's, to yank and pull to send her to the mat!

[Monsy]

The opening comment brought Karla’s pupil to nigh-roll into its socket. Her toned arms folded over her large bust; she scoffed, leaned on a hip, and sighed. “Fetish? What are you, some lecherous ditz?” Those brows furrowed and angled. Her gaze darted at them, sharpened into razor blades, and she bit the inside of her lip to cope. To not act on her fists’ call was the greatest challenge of all. They checked all boxes that irked her, how they moved to the comment on her lipstick. Her fingernails could stab through her palm if not for the thin layer of leather that kept them snug - while her arms still rattled, tight-strung and pressed against her sides as a deep breath carried out.

“I don’t plan to be here for an hour. Not with you.” That was the response to all she saw. Something that turned her world red, filled her mind with boiling water and locked her bountiful lips into a frown. The bell’s sound saved any pre-mature explosion as they serpentine and blitzed. She opened her stance, readied her hands and watched what limb made the first move. Yahagi’s leg soon hammered against her thigh; she folded it up to absorb the blow, leaned on the opposite foot as Yagahi hooked the heel, torqued and sent the pair crashing onto the canvas. Her upper body was first to crack against it, a weak punch against her lungs that made her breath skip. She hooked her right leg around Yahagi’s waist, her hands reached, pushed on the crown of their shoulders, and her left foot slammed against the mat, leveraged her hips to their core as she tried to roll them over and straddle their brute stomach.

[LunarOcean]

"Are you just boring or poorly repressed?" Yahagi teased back, mock surprise colouring her features as her eyes remained lock onto the redhead's. She seemed dour and stone-like, wearing a mask of some pretentious self-importance. It was Yahagi's favourite thing to see melt in the ring and the mental image of such helped propel her movements as she attempted to move Karla into a position she was sure would be more comfortable for the both of them. Her muscles tensed and grip tightened, a look of hunger and desire upon her features even as the opposing hardbody pulled herself forward to mount on top of her.

"And here I thought you didn't want to be intimate huh?" She almost sneered, glancing away to feign disappointment. Yet it was only a ploy; Yahagi's arms shot up and gripped at Karla's shoulders, pulling her body up in attempt to get very close, face to face. If this was successful, her tongue would lick across her cheek before she violently yanked her forward and on top of herself. Her muscular arms would wrap around her opponent's shoulders, drawing her in for a kiss as she pushed upwards with her breasts - aiming to not-so-subtly rub them up against her opponent's. She'd attempt to roll to the side, getting on top of her and giving her abs a quick, cursory massage as her own tensed muscles would scrape over and against them, all the while keeping lips locked.

[Monsy]

“Tch…” Not that what they said mattered. It was just fuel to the engine of scoffs. Something to punch her with later. Make bitter-sweet when this all ended. So they bit her tongue and rolled with what occurred. Her back, flat, legs coiled around them, tight and ankle-locked at the back. That stare she received; harvested a glare, squinted ruby hue to form its own blood-coloured dagger. Her upper lip twitched at it, vibrated in a snarl. “You’re delusional if you think I’d consider that with a horny dog like you. Learn your place.” She snapped.

The sudden grip didn’t leave much to intercept, as their body heat meshed into one, breasts ballooned against the other, as did hips and sleek abdomens. A hand came to rub the cheek that Yahagi licked. Her expression contorted, flooded with a grimace, an almost cringe as she was pulled down for a moment. The body-press now locked a line of sweat from Karla’s body onto the own, the kiss exploded such in her nape and down her back, spiked her heart rate, nuked her face in heat, and the dry humps of these ab-brushes like smooth hands glossing over a river’s top. She still looked, brows armed in this eternal glare as Karla’s head grabbed their head from both sides, yanked it back, even if just a flinch so her lips could break free and she could turn her head, cough and spit towards the mat. “You need practice.”

Karla’s arm then tried to snake around Yahagi’s nape, reach around the throat, pull them into her armpit, and pull back to torque the guillotine.

[LunarOcean]

"You're a spicy one."

It seemed it wasn't just Yahagi who enjoyed this, just who was more open about it. Already this match was worth whatever punishment that Karla had coming. She could feel it throughout her body. The sudden sweatiness that hinted against her own moistening body, the way her body heated up like a rekindling ember, the feeling of the sheer excitement building within her.

God, she was really hot, doubly so when she gripped her like that.

"We're here together. Why don't we-"

Oh she was angry too. Even hotter. Yahagi choked back a cry as her opponent's arm locked around her neck, trapping her in the ominously named hold. Yahagi's body slid forwards and hands scrambled against the mat, legs kicking about for stability as she found herself within the iron grip.

"Ngh, you can have the kiss next time you know?" She grunted out, attempting to formulate an escape plan. It wouldn't be the first rodeo she'd been dragged into.

[Monsy]

Incandescence swelled KRR’s arm that held Yahagi’s neck hostage. Both legs coiled around their waist, squeezed as ankle locked to ankle. Their words strengthened the resolve of the hold, akin to a balloon that needed to be popped. “I don’t want mine or your lips used in any kiss. Just be silent and pass out.”

If they wanted to escape, then they’d find no opportunity with Karla’s choke. The only thing that she despised more was being on her back after this exchange. This woman loved to caress other women’s bodies with her own. It was the only thing Karla thought to take from them. Sate your anger. No matter how petty. A leg unravelled, the boot stomped on the ground, and the limb flexed. She tried to turn them over, so Karla could straddle them, mount their lap, and use the choke to pull them into a sitting position. If she succeeded, her head would peek over their shoulder, look onward to the crowd and poke her tongue out when she captured a gaze. This would be more her style…

[LunarOcean]

"Oh sure you don't, just want me all bundled up like a toy instead, definitely not repressed or anything!" So maybe it wasn't her finest humor but it did help take Yahagi's mind off of her quickly diminishing supply of air and the painful strain on her neck and head. This woman was powerful; the kind of power she found to be a turn especially when combined with the technical know-how to apply it in such a lethal, dangerous manner. It was a rare sort of talent but it was the kind that piqued the Japanese wrestler's interest in many ways.

After all, that's when the fight really got serious. Karla probably couldn't tell Yahagi was grinning. She was probably sharp enough to see Yahagi's right arm fly up first as if in blind struggle, then with intention and purpose. It pressed against the left side of Karla's neck, steely biceps pressing against her as with greater purchase and leverage, Yahagi began attempting to shift her weight forward and get the redhead's back to the mat. With her waist raised, feet against the ground, and a tightening grip on Karla's neck, Yahagi would attempt to push out past those scissor-like legs in a guillotine escape.

If that was successful, she would not back away. Instead, she'd kick off to angle her upper body away from Karla and instead grab at her legs. Sliding into seated position perpindicular to Karla's limbs, she'd grab at them by the knees, sliding her legs underneath and against them to bend them into a pretzel like position. She would secure it by lockign her opponent's ankles against one another, using her right leg to press them down. They would be pressed against Yahagi's left leg which now had another vital role. The Japanese woman's left leg slide up up between Karla's, pressing down on the redhead's left leg to stretch it ouward. Yahagi's hands would seize the opposite leg by the knee, sliding an arm against the back of the kneecap and another against that muscled inner thigh-meat.

It was in essence, a variant of a leg split.

Spoiler

Perhaps the worst part of it wasn't just the excruciating pain however. Maybe not even Yahagi brushing her muscular left leg's impressive musculature against the inner componnet of Karla's no less beautiful limb (even if oddly enough, she avoided rubbing it against her crotch). It was the amused, lustful expression on her face, almost amorous as she looked back at Karla.

"C'mon, you can't be that boring Karla~"

[Monsy]

“Guh, you need professional help, Hundchen!” Karla could only groan as the two danced around. The verbal tango was own she’s well-versed in, but her eyes couldn’t roll further into their sockets with every syllable they said. It helped her tighten the hold, see if that shut out any remaining words. Speaking bled the lungs dry, so maybe it was the only boon. The last one. When they were to lay on the canvas, Yahagi’s iron bicep crammed into her neck, shoved her down and stacked their bodies. Karla’s hips followed; a growl in her voice as the only response was to cling her arm even more. That ship was sailed.

Yahagi popped out, and left Karla on her back, then half-seated, propped back on her elbow. Her legs folded inward, locked ankle-to-ankle by Yahagi’s own, and her second threaded the Reinhardt thigh-loop. Karla flailed, trying to throw her upper-body weight towards the ropes, then jerked it the other way to see if that loosened it. Yahagi’s hands soon found their purchase, one on the knee-cap, the other on its rear, pulled apart as Karla’s thigh was stretched. It was worse than a muscle spasm that exploded up her arching back. Her shoulders lied on the canvas, elbows jutted on the mat, halfway out from her body as she heaved and whimpered. Top row teeth bit down on her plump cherry lipstick lips, and those eyes bulged, then clammed shut. Her breath grew rapid, and she shook her hand. Both hands reached, grabbed fistfuls of her hair, then opened her mouth to speak. She choked on that breath. The feeling was perhaps numbing, burning, then a sting. It was the worst love bite she ever had. The limb brushing was all but a backwater. A whistle amongst a symphony of agony that Karla wouldn’t scream for. She refused; instead, she turned her upper half on one elbow and reached to rake the canvas. Perhaps if she did it enough, she’d gain some ground…

“W-Watch your mouth… N-Ngh! Don’t you know who I am?!…” She raked the mat again, taking in a breath, holding it. “Karla... Ray…” Another reach and rake. “Reinhardt! I am not boring!”