Battle Lines

It was all too easy for Mariah to lose herself in the moment, getting drawn in by domineering display on the screen, but even she wasn’t so out of it that she could fail to notice Darya’s reactions. The way she’d been enraptured seeing Bubbles in action, that little gasp, the signs of a mind trying to catch up with the rest of the world. It was an all-too familiar gaze, and one she’d sampled herself twice in her life: the first time she saw Bubbles in action and right now.

Mariah sat down the phone right after Darya did the same, no doubt for the same reason. It was a little hard to negotiate properly when you were thinking about your wife wrestling with a similarly endowed woman, thrashing about in oil, breasts heaving, screaming and yelping and moaning and…

Damn it.

It was a good thing Darya took a pause before she spoke again, because Mariah found herself needing the time to clear her head. In the end, she only managed to get her head straight by thinking about some rather grotesque horror movies, a trick she’d learned for whenever her mind threatened to run away with Bubbles-related thoughts.

It worked, thankfully, because she needed her wits for what came next. The two of them met, eyes-to-eye, and things turned tense for a hot moment. Mariah would give Darya credit: she was a focused woman, and matching her energy was no small feat. She made another mental note, this time to check out more of the one-eyed woman’s history when she had free time. Mariah had a strong feeling it would make for an interesting afternoon.

The slap made Mariah jump in surprise, and she wasn’t able to hold back the flushing that came right after, though she did try to hide it behind a glass as she sipped. She was just about to correct Darya on a few points, where her next suggestion came and caught her off-guard.

She had no qualms with the idea, and she knew Bubbles would jump at the chance - figuratively and literally. But now Mariah wasn’t on good ground. The match type was set, the rules had been set, the conditions had been set. There was nothing left to add, no way to bring anymore heat to the situation.

Unless…

A twisted grin took over Mariah’s face as she leaned forward and resisted the urge to cackle maniacally. ”Let’s throw a stipulation in the mix, shall we?” She canted her head to the side. ”Prisoner of War. The loser becomes the winner’s slave for, oh say, 24 hours?” She snapped her fingers. ”Better still - the loser and her manager. Two for the price of one. If you’re willing.”

Now it was her turn to touch Darya’s thigh, though hers was more gentle and lasted longer than the slap. ”My wife and I would love to get to know you two. I’m sure.”

Darya noticed that the video she had shared had had much the same effect on Mariah as Mariah's video had had on her, and she noticed that Mariah had noticed the effect her video had on Darya.

Yes, all that made sense. It was a bit of a tangled-up way of saying that they both knew the score, and they both, right at this moment, knew exactly what the other was thinking. Both of their wives were gorgeous and incredibly powerful. While who topped the other in those categories may still be up for debate, neither of them could pretend that the image of those two bronzed women greased up, pouring sweat, naked, thrashing, slamming into each other, assets combining, one crushing the other, the other turning the tables and smashing the first, their screams of pain and pleasure as they pushed each other's limits further and further were...were...it was all very good. Very good indeed.

Darya had a feeling Mariah was having a similar amount of trouble getting her thoughts in order.

Darya recovered sooner, though, and the teasing little slap to Mariah's thigh elicited a small jump from the American woman, and a beautiful red blush that was painfully obvious on her fair complexion, even when she tried to hide it. Darya just smiled, perhaps a little smugly, and sipped her own tea as Mariah tried to rally. They had gone back and forth, turning a standard hentai match into a hardstyle, no-disqualification, last woman standing oiled match, but now there was very little which could be added to the match. They seemed to be in full agreement, and Darya had gotten the last word in.

Or so she thought. But Mariah added one final stipulation that, Darya had to admit, rocked her. She made a little undignified squawking sound on a mouth full of black tea, though she should not have been surprised at the bluntness. Maybe that video of Bubbles had made her more...susceptible. She swallowed the tea hard, then took a deep breath, closing her one good eye. When she opened it, a grin spread across her face almost as maniacal as Mariah's. She let her hand drop onto Mariah's as it rested on her thigh, interlocking her fingers with those of the American.

"Vhy, Miss Burste, it sounds to me like you are trying to seduce me, hmm?" she teased, as she leaned in, letting her face float in closer to the American. "I vill say, twenty-four hours is almost too short, to me, for you and your sweet little voman to service me and my gorgeous champion...but ve can ease you into ze prisoner idea for zis first match." She brought her free hand up and tickled Mariah's chin.

"You have a deal."

Ha! Direct hit!

Mariah took no small amount of satisfaction from making the unflappable Darya nearly do a spittake, enjoying the sight of her being startled. It was a brief joy, yes, the woman recovered quickly, but it was clear that she’d been caught off guard.  The score was roughly tied, she figured, and if - no, when Bubbles beat Femke and they brought the two of them back to their hotel, the tally would definitely start going in their favor.

The things she would do to Darya. The things Bubbles would do. The things Mariah would make them do. Just imagining the possibilities was enough to get the blood flowing, as her brain swelled with ideas, and...oh. She would have to make a pitstop by the little fetish shop she’d spotted nearby before she came home tonight.

Later, later, later. ”Well, everything is negotiable.” She squeezed Darya’s hand and giggled at the finger on her chin - couldn’t be helped, she was crazy ticklish. ”I can say from experience, a day alone with Bubbles is an experience beyond most women...but if you and Femke are still up for it after a day of being our toys, we can work something out. I’m sure.”

With that, Mariah leaned forward, gave Darya a kiss, and thanked whatever gods existed that she lived a life where this sort of thing was possible. It wasn’t a long kiss, no more than three seconds, but she packed plenty of passion into it, swirling her tongue about, sucking on Darya’s, pressing their lips this way and that. She pulled away, leaving a thin trail of saliva between them, then abruptly stood.

”I must say, Ms. Ambrosova, it has been a pleasure meeting you, among other things.” Though her face and tone were still filled with mirth, Mariah meant that sincerely.  Meeting strange and interesting women from around the world was the best thing about wrestling, and she was glad to still get the chance, even if she wasn’t an active competitor anymore. ”I wish you and yours good luck. You’ll be needing it.”

What a battle. Short, but intense, brutal in its own way, neither Russian nor American backing down an inch as they fought for their lovers, each coming away with several victories and direct hits on the other to gloat to her champion about, and valuable intelligence reports on the opposition to guide their preparations for this fight. Both wrestlers would go into this duel for the ages with their eyes wide open, fully aware of what their opponent was capable of. That was made easier by the fact that the two, Femke and Bubbles, really were very similar, in build, in tactics, in complexion. To best prepare, Femke must understand how to defeat herself...

It sounded like a cliche, but it was, in fact, quite accurate, in a sense!

Darya was glad to hear that genuine, childish giggle when she tickled Mariah's chin. She grinned and even laughed a little along with the American, quite enthused to know she had found another weak point. Ticklish! Who would have thought? "You sound oh so very confident, Miss Mariah Burste. And I vill say you are very good opponent vhen negotiating from strength. But you vait until you are our mewling little kitten...and ve vill see if you can negotiate your vay out of being our toys forever. Perhaps you may not vant to!"

Darya was not taken by surprise when Mariah kissed her. If Mariah had not, then Darya certainly would have initiated it. The two of them needed it, needed to clear the air between them, needed to recognize what they were both thinking. The other was a hot piece of ass, a trophy each hungered to add to her collection, and to share with her wife. Looking into Mariah's eyes as their tongues swirl together and lips smacked, Darya could practically see what the woman had in store for herself and Femke if the Dutch woman were to come out on the losing end of next week's duel. Submission. Subservience. Humiliation. Every word for inferiority one could think of twisted into the most beautiful, most alluring images in the world. It almost made a woman like Darya hunger to be made into such an object...

The kiss was broken, and both women stood. Eyes still met, brilliant fires burning in both. There were preparations to be made in each camp. They could not spend any longer here than they had to. As much as Darya wanted to test Mariah's mettle, to roll around with her, to fuck her right here, there were toys to buy, calls to make...and a Dutch champion to be pushed through the final rush of training to victory.

Darya nodded, her own smile betraying a genuine happiness at having had this encounter with Mariah. "And good luck to you and yours. Ve vill see vhat it gets you in ze end." She turned to leave, but her back had been turned to Mariah for no more than a second when she stopped, a devious smile creeping onto her face. She turned back to her fellow manager. "One more ting, lovely Mariah," she purred. "I vant to give Bubbles a gift, a small someting of appreciation. I vill send a little box over to her dressing room ze night of ze match...and I vould be very flattered if I see her valk out into ze arena dressed in my gift on zat night."

Though phrased as a request, it was anything but. It was a demand, yet another layer in their mind game, one final parting blow in the game of one-upsmanship the two women had played tonight.

Clamps. Mariah and Bubbles had been talking about trying them out for some time now, and this was the perfect opportunity to give them a try. In fact, this would the perfect opportunity for a lot of things. Mariah could see using Femke as sort of a test subject, a way to measure to get an idea for how Bubbles would react to things without ruining any surprise. Once they got them both in the hotel and after everyone went to sleep for the night, she’d wake Femke up, whisk her off and experiment on her in private.

The idea had her salivating, and she had to shut her mouth tight before she inadvertently drooled and ceded even more ground to Darya. They’re little duel was over for the moment, but she had no doubt they would pick up again, right where they left out.

The kiss was broken and the two of them began to part ways, with Mariah staying back to gather her thoughts and check out of a few items on her cell phone. Darya paused, however, and took a moment to throw one final barb Mariah’s way, one that had them both smiling. She recognized the words for what they were. Another unspoken challenge, and one she had no problems meeting. Or reciprocating.

”How thoughtful.” She chirped, her voice high and cheerful, but with a thin line of menace underneath. ”I look forward to see what you in store, and I’ll be sure to send you a little something in return. A show of goodwill.”

She gave Darya one more flirty wave, then returned her attention to her phone, as she scrolled through the kink store’s inventory. Hopefully, they’d have something in Femke’s size….