Tangled amidst the Silks

Pole dancing had been Isa’s first love, long before she’d discovered the subtle joys of submission wrestling, and finding a studio where she could get back on the pole had been one of the first things she’d done.

That had been a top priority.

Finding out that the studio also offered aerial yoga classes had merely been the icing on the already delicious cake as far as Isa had been concerned. She’d got into aerial silks a bit back home in Belfast, doing a little cross-training along with her pole dancing to expand her range.

Aerial yoga had been a fun next step and Isa adored the flexibility and strength it had leant to her already taut physique. She got to keep all her guilty pleasures, even after she moved halfway around the world.

What wasn’t to love about that?

And that was how she had come to be here, in the studio, waiting almost patiently for her second class to start. The first had been a mandatory beginner’s level but a swift demonstration of the Temptress’ well-honed technique had been more than enough to satisfy the instructor that the raven-haired woman could… hang with the more advanced class.

Isa hadn’t even tried to resist the pun.

It was about ten minutes before they were due to start but Isa was there good and prompt, eager to get back in the air – as she always was.

Her long legs were sheathed in tight white leggings that clung to the taut curves of her thick thighs like a second skin, the inbuilt mesh panels both allowing her skin to breathe more easily and providing any onlookers with a teasing glance at the ebb and flow of the powerful muscle underneath her smooth skin.

On her upper body, she’d picked a short-sleeved workout top to match. It was one of her more practical tops – given the ample size of her chest, Isa really didn’t need things bouncing around as she worked. Isa being Isa though, the neckline dipped just enough to tease any viewer with a slight display of her cleavage and the navy blue pattern decorating the top did plenty to emphasise her plentiful gifts in that regard.

As she stood waiting impatiently for things to kick off, Isa pulled her long hair into a tight ponytail before she started to run through her own pre-class warmup routine, loosening her body up in preparation as her sharp green eyes glanced curiously around – intrigued to see who she’d be sharing this class with.

Curious in particular to see who’d be taking the hammock next to hers.

Since arriving at AFW, Saskia had shown the very best of her flexibility, the kind that the Seaside Wrestling League was partly known for. It was almost unreal just how much praise and fans she was getting from those matches, and the SWL alumni always looked forward to showing it off to its fullest.

However, Saskia knew that she can’t be resting a lot. It requires constant maintenance, something ingrained from her gymnastic days. Other hobbies that the ashen-haired woman would take up would help strengthen her body, work out the kinks in ways another woman couldn’t. Much as it’s effective in doing so, Saskia would opt for safer ways to maintain her flexibility.

Aerial yoga was something that made total sense. There was so much to like about it. Grace, elegance, beauty, the control of one’s body to get the most out of the relaxing stretches. It had many benefits, and if she wasn’t so into wrestling, yoga would be one of her biggest loves. At the very least, there were plenty in Japan, one of them her friends would recommend trying out. Initially, she was supposed to go with her, but Saskia ended up going alone, with absolutely no one that she knows. In some cases, it could be daunting. But as she saw the many women dress so scantly, the tight-fitting clothing showing off their curves, it didn’t bother her much.

Yahagi had given the instructor the good word about Saskia, and with them knowing all about SWL, gave her a free pass towards the advanced class. Oh, the benefits of having friends in high places.

She came in with a baggy, oversized sweatshirt that left a shoulder bare for most to see. Almost teasing those who are wondering what is underneath. She arrived five minutes early; most of it was getting herself limber. Saskia took a nearby pole and brought a leg up, planting the arch of her bare sole onto the metal bar. What followed would a series of stretches that most women here wouldn’t be able to do, complicated and complex movements that were unlike a beginner. Few women had legs that could move like that; most would probably be tapping out if they had to not only split so sharply but bend almost serpentine as well. Feeling those glutes, hamstrings, and calves, Saskia tied her long ashen hair into one ponytail. Funny how not tying it into two would get all in the SWL talking up a storm. It was pretty much why she would keep it to two. Besides, Wales liked it, and Saskia was happy to oblige.

Once that was done, Saskia lowered the other leg done, both limbs feeling loose yet still feeling strong. The Swiss-German would remove that oversized top to reveal what she’s actually wearing. Even a simple movement of her body showed off every inch of Saskia in subtle yet astounding detail. The white bra lightly straining against the fabric, making her appear bustier than she already seemed. Having a red line pattern decorating down the middle of the ample bust. Tight grey leggings also adorned, with a yellow and black line running down the side of her hips to her ankles. Yet they couldn’t contain or conceal just how much potent strength those legs have, absolute masterpieces to behold.

With the others taking up their positions, Saskia would take up one free hammock. The one next to it was occupied by a very exotic woman. Skin like mocha, silky hair tied up neatly, yet her attire barely contained the powerful, curvy figure. She was different, much like Saskia and for some reason, felt drawn to her, something capturing the European like a magnetic pull. As she walked up to the hammock next to her, she flashed a lovely, welcoming smile. It is the first thing someone sees, and she hoped to make a great impression on not just the instructor but also the unnamed woman next to her.

Isa had almost finished with her stretching when she became aware she had company.

Of course, she’d known there were others moving around – class regulars swapping greetings (or sushi recipes), doing their stretches, all the sort of background motion and noise she knew to expect right before any class like this started.

The fact it was mostly in Japanese just made it easier for her to tune it out as Isa allowed herself to drift into the soothing familiarity of her routine. Of feeling her muscles loosening…

The half-Romani girl was down on the floor when she saw the pair of bare feet come padding up to where the neighbouring hammock hung. Her torso was near flat to the floor, her full bust mushrooming where it pressed against the mats, her legs spread wide and flat in a full, deep set of straddle splits.

Relishing the burn, Isa had been holding it for nearly a minute when she realised she had company.

Raising herself up on her elbows, the raven-haired fighter allowed her gaze to play up, up, up the full length of a very impressive set of gams – meaty and muscular in equal measure, rippling with obvious power even under the tight constraints of a pair of leggings, similar to her own. Then a flat tanned and toned midsection before a sports bra struggled to contain a truly voluptuous pair of breasts.

Curves and athleticism in equal manner, all displayed in equal measure – Isa found herself very much intrigued, particularly once she caught a glimpse of the newcomer’s hair, which was as pale a white as her own was raven-dark. Her new neighbour also looked to be a visitor to Japan rather than a native, much like she herself.

Coincidence?

From her prone position, Isa offered a coy smile in return.

“It looks like we’re to be neighbours,” She remarked, before rolling back, bringing her legs together and kipping back to standing with a single powerful flex of her body.

More than a little showy. That was why it was so fun. Let the other woman make of it what she would.

“Isabel Armstrong,” She offered, resting her hands on her hips, head cocked at a slight challenging angle and eyelids lowered almost flirtatiously, “But my friends call me Isa. The pleasure’s all mine, Ms…?”

All of the other ladies were fit and beautiful in their own right. One of them seemed to have legs that went on for days, standing two rows behind the first. Another was short, yet that the perfect face that had the best mix of cute and sexy. There were countless women Saskia could have chosen to be next to, and it wasn’t as if she hadn’t worked with Japanese natives. It was just a coincidence that the only hammock left was beside the most exotic woman in the room.

Women like this and Saskia stuck out like a sore thumb; the darker skin of the Irish-Romani contrasted to the paler skin of the Swiss-German. And they were in the front for all to see, with differing body types compared to the Japanese companions. Saskia’s bare feet padded towards the hammock, all the while the other woman would stretch on the floor, breasts mushroomed and legs splayed out wide in a deep stretch. Mind you, the stretch itself isn’t what interested the ashen-haired one. Coming from Seaside Wrestling, some kinds would blow anyone’s mind as they couldn’t comprehend the human body being bent in different ways.

It was just her body. While it would be pretty naughty to be focusing on anything other than the face, especially in a first meeting, Saskia found herself captivated with her form. The half-Romani’s skin helped draw the eye but was the European looked more into her counterpart, there was more to be impressed. Thick, but not overly thick, still having her skin formed perfectly around her musculature. Sure, her legs seem to stick out more than anyone, but it wasn’t as if the other body parts weren’t as developed. Her back, her arms, her core looked strong, at least from looking at the obliques. The body was balanced, yet still biased to what the Irish-Romani girl wanted the attention to go to, probably.

Those legs.

All of this was taken from just a quick look at the partner. Long enough to get a lot of information but short enough to be seen as an appraisal and not awkwardly gawking at another female. It’s best not to start off on the wrong foot, and Saskia has seen others with poor social graces in her previous federation. Saskia’s smile grew once Isa kipped up to her feet. Nice.

Finally, she was able to put a name to the darker-skinned partner. Isabel – or Isa as she’d probably liked to be called – was a lovely name. Reminded her of a girl in school for some reason. “…Saskia Schleswig-Holsten.” The accent formed from her Central European countries flowed smoothly, despite many people’s misconceptions about the German language. Then again, Swiss-German had its differences compared to the mainstream counterpart. “But you can call me Saskia. I wonder if this is more than a coincidence that we’re neighbours…”

Well, these things do happen pretty frequently in Japan.

Saskia Schleswig-Holstein, huh? Sounded… German?

Not that Isa was any good at accents – she would guess her new friend was from central Europe somewhere but that was about as far as she was going to go. Definitely not from her own neck of the woods, definitely not Japanese either.

Whoever she was, she was tall. Isa’s height, maybe more. And athletic, obviously and intriguingly athletic in a way that made Isa wonder two things.

What Saskia did to keep herself that fit (besides aerial yoga, obviously).

And just what it’d be like to take a tumble on the mats with her – something Isa wondered about most athletic people she saw and not a few others, more by way of a game than anything serious. How it’d feel, how they’d react… That sort of thing.

Saskia certainly had the physique for it. Closer now, Isa could see the strength in the other woman’s trim arms, the flex of muscle in her abdomen as she breathed. It looked like it was built for use, not for show; Isa had seen more than enough of the latter to tell the difference, in men and women alike who were all size and definition and who thought that being able to bench press some ludicrous amount made up for their criminal deficiencies as a grappler.

Saskia’s musculature, much like Isa’s own, was smooth and elegant, flowing like a panther’s under their smooth skin.

Add to that the white hair, those haunting eyes and the accent and she was already more than a little intrigued by Ms Saskia Schleswig-Holstein. And looking forward to digging into that mystery over the course of the class.

At the suggestion that their placement was more than a coincidence (echoing her own thought of just a moment before), Isa’s eyebrows rose and she took a second look around the room, noticing that almost all of the hammocks were now taken – except, until Saskia’s arrival, the one next to her.

Huh.

Well, maybe there was something to that after all.

“I’m not complaining,” Isa smiled, stretching herself out like a cat, “Is this your first time in this class too?”

It was just her intuition, a guess based on Saskia not showing any signs of so much as talking to or nodding at any of the others. But it seemed on the money somehow.

It didn’t take much for Saskia to pick up the Irish in Isa’s accent. It wasn’t the really over-the-top and over-exaggerated country rural accent that she hears some people do these days. In her experience, it is mainly uncultured who seem to think they’re on an episode of Hardy Bucks when they speak. There is something else that makes Isa’s speech not seem so heavy and thick with it, and with her skin tone being a direct contrast to Saskia’s, she could assume that there is another European aspect to it. Perhaps one of the Eastern counterparts?

No doubt she’ll find that out soon enough.

But her accent gives that bewitching, gypsy charm that either was intentional, or Isa just does effortlessly. Not to say that listening to the Japanese locals weren’t interesting, far from it. There was a sensual, almost motherly aspect to how someone like Tatsuta would speak, even if she’s a native. But it’s nice to hear someone from other countries, hearing the different dialects and experiencing other cultures. That is what made SWL a lovely home for her, despite being based in Japan.

But it did bring up another assumption in Saskia’s mind. And that seemed to confirm it the more she looked at her body.

A bit short, but not that much compared to Saskia.

A solid core, which seems more built for just Aerial Yoga from its looks.

Thick legs that could rival Nagato and heck, even Lauruuka’s, if she’s feeling like teasing the phantom further.

Wrestler.

Despite the grassroots of where it had started, AFW has grown to be much bigger, considered the mecca of wrestling and where all women and men would go if they wish for success and challenge. And that meant it would attract those that are not from the Land of the Rising Sun. Saskia would know. She was one of them.

And there was certainly more than what meets the eye in terms of Isa’s form. It didn’t look strong just for the sake of it. She wasn’t the type to work out just to make their clothes look small on them. No, there was a purpose for it. It’s the kind of body she would press upon in SWL. Curves, but with a lot of power underneath.

Could she be…hmmm, best not to jump to conclusions right as the session is about to start. It’s best to clarify, lest she ousts herself as a complete weirdo. It would not be a great first impression, indeed.

“Neither am I.” Saskia gave a cat-like smile to match Isa’s cat-like stretch. “And it is indeed. Few friends have been recommending it to me, and I figured now’s the time to try it out.” Saskia would stretch her arms over her head, watching Isa’s form. “From the sound of it, I doubt this is technically your first rodeo~.”

Isa was starting to like Saskia. The white haired woman was fun, funny and someone she had at least one thing in common with (aside from the obvious). What wasn’t to like?

Given she’d been worried about being stuck next to someone she couldn’t even speak to, well, this was looking really promising. Not that she needed to chat while she was doing aerial yoga but it made the whole experience a lot more fun as far as she was concerned.

Also, that was impressive. If Saskia was almost new to this but had got into an advanced class already, clearly she knew what she was doing. Isa, who knew her own skills and how much work she’d put into them, was at least a little impressed.

Thinking on that, the Temptress hummed her agreement to the other woman’s words, continuing to stretch all the while.

“Well,” She noted, “It is an advanced class…”

Which wasn’t really what Saskia was hinting at and Isa knew it, as shown by her only pausing a moment to let her deliberately trollish comment (or deliberate misunderstanding) sink in before she continued without missing a beat.

“… But you’d be right. I started… I don’t know… a year ago? Maybe a year and a half? It’s something of a side-line – I mostly got into it to boost my pole dancing repertoire a bit.”

She shrugged, half-kicked and half-rolled a leg up until her toes pointed to the ceiling and she could wrap an arm easily around her calf to hold the stretch.

“Plus it’s great exercise as well as a lot of fun. Not that you seem to have a problem with staying fit…”

Her voice trailed off, her curiosity made clear with a raised eyebrow. Whatever it was Saskia did for a living, Isa would lay bets that it was way more physically demanding than sitting behind a desk. And if she was just trying out aerials, she clearly hadn’t got it that way…

Hmm. Colour her curious indeed, about all sorts of things about her new friend.

First-timers in an advanced Aerial Yoga class isn’t the only thing that these two have in common. And to think Saskia hasn’t reached the depths of the iceberg yet when it comes to the Irish-Romani. Despite the very nature that her previous federation was, Saskia still showed excellent social graces that endeared to anyone that she meets. Something that took Saskia a while to grasp when she was a struggling teenager, but gotten down to a science after being with the SWL.

It’s no surprise why she looked up (quite literally in most cases) to veteran seductresses and Femme Fatales, those that exude sass and raw confidence in everything they do. Her boarding school wasn’t the best place for Saskia to grow confident in her own body, but after that one magical night with Wales, she grew confident in her body and character. Unlike most that graduated from that place, the Swiss-German grew into quite the socialite, welcoming other newcomers and attracting many due to her friendliness and outgoing nature.

Not to say that this took all the credit for Saskia and Isa to hit it off. Though if she managed to get a conversation out of someone grizzly like Akino, anything is possible.

Still, Saskia began to like Isa. She holds a conversation well, and the mix between that and showing off her body makes her so intriguing. Perhaps the real test is how much they could find things to talk about before it would inevitably reach that other topic. But for now, the Silver Vixen was content with letting the conversation flow so naturally.

Saskia let out a slight chuckle as Isa brought a leg up for a stretch. Just as easy as breathing. While this may be the first lesson in the advanced class, the Temptress would clarify why she got into that class.

“Pole dancing, hmmm? Now it all makes sense.” Saskia would fold at the hips, her upper body lowering down till her palms met the floor. Much as she could admire her body standing over, that would be unbecoming if she was to ogle too much. Unless if that is all by Isa’s design. Pretty sure she’s used to it. “An exotic flow, fitting for an exotic woman like yourself. Well…that and the bruises seem to say as such.”

Soon as she’s resting on her elbows, Saskia’s legs kicked up behind her, lazily bringing her body up into something of a handstand. If you could call it that. To the uninitiated, they would watch in awe as Saskia’s long legs curled, making herself into the letter “C”,. All while propping one elbow to the floor so that she could place a palm on her cheek. Looking straight into Isa’s eyes as they lay on the floor, but might come off as Saskia showing off/goofing around.

“Not at all. You should see how many times I stretch in a single day.” That statement can have many different meanings. “For me, I was somewhat late to the yoga scene when I was busy doing gymnastics. But I got into it because I loved how calm and soothing it was. Gymnast training can be pretty hectic and brutal at times.”

“Ah,” the sound was as much an exhalation as a word, Isa nodding in understanding (and appreciation of the position Saskia had so easily manipulated herself into – a position that had Isa wondering if the white-haired woman would even break a sweat from that most old-fashioned of submissions, the Boston Crab). She didn’t have to be a professional gymnast herself, which, to be honest, she really wasn’t – she’d never pretended to pro standards as a gymnast, to know just how brutal and competitive the training those women went through could be.

Both physically and mentally. Give her pole dancing and BJJ any day. Competitive as Isa had found herself to be in the latter, she also knew she had her limits.

She liked to have fun and a good workout, not a physical or mental breakdown, thank you very much.

“I’ve heard that,” Isa agreed, lowering her leg – first bending her knee, then fully dropping it - before repeating the move with her other limb, “Not my experience but then I didn’t go that deep.”

The white haired European’s stretch had impressed her though; not simply the position itself but how elegantly she’d assumed it. Lowering herself so easily to her elbows, then folding herself over with ease – yes, Saskia was clearly showing off but Isa could hardly begrudge her that given she’d been showing her own skills more than a little already.

So. Saskia did (at a minimum) gymnastics and yoga, not to mention contorting herself in ways that most would find physically impossible and even the limber Irish-Romani girl would find challenging. She was getting more intriguing all the while, and Isa couldn’t help but wonder how deliberate Saskia was being with parcelling out the sparing details of what exactly she did.

Although, Isa supposed, she was doing just the same. Speaking of which, time to parcel out a little more maybe?

“As for the bruises,” Isa flattered Saskia with a slow, feline grin, “Think less pole dancing and more BJJ. The last guy I rolled got a little… handsy.”

Left unspoken was the bit where she’d choked him out because he was a dumbass who didn’t know when he’d lost but, unflappable as Saskia seemed, Isa wasn’t quite confident enough to just throw that out there immediately.

Some people thought that sort of thing was incredibly cool. Just as many thought it was barbaric and, well – she and Saskia were having so much fun, it’d be a shame to spoil it.

In some ways, the manner of how Saskia could contort and manipulate her own body, just like that, probably would have given away just what she’s capable of in a match. Her legs twisted one way and another, balancing so elegantly on her elbows and palms. She could get into positions like this and still hold a conversation. Most times, people who meet her in the ring don’t get to see this and are shocked that no manipulation of body parts would bring discomfort for the Swiss-German. There was no position that she couldn’t twist or bend.

Of course, that’s not entirely true. Those in the SWL know better. However, it does affect the opponent’s mind, so she keeps to it.

Still, this wasn’t a position that many would be willing to put themselves into, and the fact she could do so without a tremble of a bead of sweat should give some ideas to the Irish-Romani’s mind.

No doubt there were a lot.

There is a thing of “less is more,” and the game these two play is one of subtlety. One could interpret Saskia showing this to prove she’s worthy of joining the advanced class. It’s not as if she was showing off because she might have met a wrestler of AFW. It’s not that the Swiss-German intended to one-up Isa; she wasn’t so petty as to show off your greatness to everyone you meet.

‘Might’ being the keyword. Saskia wasn’t saying as such that brought suspicion.

But Isa did drop another breadcrumb. BJJ. A grappling martial art. Suppose that didn’t confirm Saskia’s suspicions even more than that. “BJJ? Sehr interressant.” She did give a look of genuine intrigue as she’d unfold herself to sit upright. If only to get a bit closer to observe the bruises that darkened her already flawless skin. “I cannot claim that I’ve ever gotten into it….” Which was true. “...But any sport, competitive or otherwise, is intriguing to hear and listen about.” Also true. People in the SWL have had people from different backgrounds of sport, which has blessed them with many distinct advantages and strengths that can be applied in grappling. “You’re braver than me to be rolling with a guy. I can’t say I’d ever fight one.” Technically the truth. True that she wouldn’t grapple with a guy. But she hasn’t ruled out that she never grappled at all. “I suppose you wanted to challenge yourself and face different competition? Just…consider me curious.”