Phoebe Vermillion vs Akane Saito

Now that Phoebe was within range of her opponent, she swung a right undercut towards Akane's stomach, planning to disorient her a bit more with a barrage of punches anywhere she could aim afterward. The accuracy didn't matter as much, now that she had her cornered, the wealthy runaway had the chance to take the win for herself, and she wouldn't let it slip from her fingers, unless her opponent actually decided to fight back.
She felt like she wouldn't, but then again, Phoebe didn't expect her to block her kick on time. The two actually appeared to be evenly matched, which did excite her a bit. Her opponent took some real damage far more than she has, but to still keep up with her, is still an accomplishment in of itself. If there was something the blonde heroine could rely on, it was her speed combined with her traditional skills in the ring.

Akane awkwardly pushed up onto her knees, the mild stain on her arms causing them to throb with pain. She refused to stay down though, not as long as she could manage to fight. Just as she got her legs under her, a fist came barreling into her stomach, hitting her so hard that her boots briefly left the ground. She staggered, knees threatening to buckle as she gasped desperately for air.

Blow after blow rained down, battering her head, shoulder, and chest, some glancing, some solid. Each blow that managed to connect fully rocked her body, jerking her from side to side with each quick impact. She tried to put her arms up, to protect herself, but when a fist hit her arm it hurt just as bad after taking that kick. She couldn't get her legs to move, stuck in place as the blond hit her with shot after shot. In a move of desperation, she fell forward into the blond, attempting to grab hold of her in a boxing clinch to keep her from hitting her anymore. She could barely stand, only being kept up if she could keep hold of her opponent.

Phoebe's face flushed a blood-red, the bi-curious blonde unable to escape her fleeting attraction that bloomed from such physical touch. She could feel her opponent's soft belly inflate and deflate on hers, her breathing grazing the side of her neck. It was an unintentional distraction to the rich girl, but a distraction nonetheless. It left her open for a potential assault to her exposed body, but she hadn't seemed to notice yet, contemplating if she should shove Akane off of her. Instead, she'd instinctually wrap her arms around the girl and tried to hold her tight. By no means was she trying to do a bearhug; the blonde finally getting what she wanted in the form of a hug, but her embrace would've been firm, and far too narrow for any sort of comfort on the part of either party.
For a split second, she turned her head over to Yona, and looked her deep in the eyes. She studied every little flicker of light in her love's eyes. She bit her lip in excitement, still not seeming to pay much attention to Akane outside of her hold. After all, she was trapped in the mindset that she wrestled more for Yona than herself at this point—to impress what seemed like an unstoppable diva in the ring; one that enthralled her beyond logical sense.

It was a struggle to stand, more so to find her breath. Her gasps were ragged and hungry, playing catchup after Phoebe knocked the wind out of her. She clutched the other woman close, trying her best to keep the blond from hitting her again before she could steal some time to recover. She knew any moment the hammer could fall so was mentally prepared for the hell that was about to be unleashed on her.

Then she felt arms wrap around her and was tugged slightly closer in an embrace. A faint hint of red on her cheeks once she realized what was happening. She swallowed hard, peering up at the blond curiously. She could see the red on her face, noticing her biting her lip. This woman was stronger than Akane, there was no doubt, but there was something the young rookie did well though. She had gotten her first and only win against a giant by breaking them down with a sweeter method of fighting. It was time she tried that.

Akane leaned into Phoebe, mashing their bodies together in their embrace. She buried her face in the blond’s shoulder, giving her a soft nuzzle. Her lips traced over her collar gently but didn’t press against her just yet. The pink-haired girl would seize this moment to try and coax Phoebe backward to the corner, being gentle and deliberate while making sure the two had bodily contact the whole time. She breathed out intentionally heavily so her breath rolled over the other girl's body, making use of everything she knew to lull her opponent into a more passive state she could possibly use to her advantage. The arms around Phoebe slipped back slightly enough to let Akane run her hands down her side to the rest of her hips, giving them the lightest of caresses.

"Eh?" Phoebe softly muttered, feeling her opponent actually try and reverse the bearhug in her favor. She never noticed it until now, but woman might have been her weakness. She loved men too, but once Akane hid her face within her shoulder, and gently nudged her shoulder repeatedly, she completely froze in place. The blonde heroine felt her stomach inflating over hers, and vice versa, their warmth conflicting against the cold December weather—the aroma of hair sweet as candy. Akane had attacked Phoebe's senses on all sides of the field, her pussy beginning to ease in tension. It was an embarrassment to say the least, but she could tell she'd cum soon, especially as her legs grew weak, wobbling enough for her opponent to slam her down on the canvas. To her surprise, Akane had completely taken advantage of her weakness. She tried to wrap one of her legs over her crotch, knowing she was far too sensitive down there, even for a virgin.
She managed to hold back the urge to squirt, but she was left defenseless where it mattered the most—her soft exterior. She looked at her opponent with puppy eyes, the cute blonde sunk down from jobber to bimbo territory. The crowd all cheered the fact, but Yona didn't seem all too amused. She glared at Akane, getting slight PTSD from her years of being in the same position as Phoebe. With one glance in her direction, Phoebe knew Yona was going to train her to the bone later to make up for this lapse in her judgement. Phoebe noticed, just like her teammate once did, how the audience gawked at her—to be frank, her breasts and bulging pussy lips peaking from her tight undergarment. It was nothing new, but to an extent, it was a cruel reminder that she was nothing without her beauty. Ever since she was a child, her mother had pampered and prepped her for a potential mate, yet she never quite had a lasting relationship. Some because she wasn't willing to put out on only the first date, and some else because she wasn't all too interested in marriage just yet. Once her own mother told her that she wasted her looks on absolutely nothing whatsoever—her soft, curvy lips that popped out slightly, her breasts that were just the right size for grabbing, and her somewhat plump belly. Needless to mention, her silky, jewel undertone skin, with large, round eyes accompanied by dazzling hazel pupils. She was practically irresistible, but yet, she had to resort to a harsh sport like wrestling.

Akane was gentle, she understood the inherent stigma that came with what she was doing. To her though, there was no shame in it unless it was taken to the place of intended humiliation. She had no intention to do that here tonight. At its core, this was a wrestling match that allowed for these tactics but was not dependent on them. When the blond’s legs started to give out, both women would collapse onto the mat with a heavy thud as all that held them upright had been Phoebe’s strength. Here on the mat though, she would work her magic.

She closed her eyes and gave Phoebe’s neck a timid kiss, then another along her collar. When she lifted her head she saw the blond staring back at her, doe-eyed, frozen, with flushed cheeks. Akane stared back, her own cheeks reddening in return. She gave the woman a soft smile, running a hand up her side, fingers briefly trailing over her breast before she placed a hand reassuringly on the side of her face to stroke her cheek with a thumb. She shifted her legs to straddle one of the blond’s, sliding her leg up between her thighs until it nestled between the girl’s legs. She could feel the heat there, the wetness that Phoebe’s choice of attire so poorly hid.

“Does that feel alright?” Akane whispered, lowering her face to rest their foreheads together, pursed lips so close as they stared at one another. Her free hand moved slowly across from the side of her hip, coming to rest her palm on the girl’s abdomen, fingertips inching towards the waistband of her bottoms seeking quiet permission to continue. All of this seemed as though it was new to the blond so Akane was careful. While she was doing this with the goal of ultimately winning their match, there was no reason she couldn't help make losing a fun and enjoyable experience for Phoebe.

Her nipples, pierced through her top, hardened with excitement. Phoebe was a virgin in both status and emotion, the blonde's confidence and energy withered down to a grain, with each move her opponent made. She considered shoving the pink-haired beauty off of her, but her heart overtook her mind, the blonde wanting to indulge her sexual urges while also making Yona jealous. She hesitated for a minute, Akane taking advantage of her submissive state, but she eventually forced herself to go for it—she shut her eyes tight and kissed Akane. She wrapped her arms around her waist, and gradually attempted to push her opponent backwards, potentially bending her back in defiance of her dominance over her. If she was going to get fucked, she'd be the one taking charge. However, Phoebe would open her eyes and glance over at her love, to realize she was watching them, completely apathetic to her sexual encounter. It caused her to lose some steam, letting Akane crush her down on the canvas. That was when she had gone all out, rubbing her cheek, and getting in-between her legs.
Phoebe rested her head in her palm—the blonde sticking her tongue out in exhaustion, as she pulled away from the kiss. Though, she'd let out a soft, high-pitched squeak, her opponent's hand slithering down to her hip, and over the sole strap of her bottoms. Out of frustration towards Yona, she nodded her head silently, and laid her head down on the canvas, almost submitting to Akane sexually—allowing her to fully get on top and go all out on her.
"I-I love you, Akane.." Phoebe uttered shyly, placing her hands over her lips, trying to hide her feelings behind the elegant sway of an emotional defense, "Make love to me.."

There was a moment of surprise when her slow and methodical approach to wearing down Phoebe nearly backfired when the woman had a surge of defiance. The pink-haired girl had nearly been bowled over, cheeks reddening as her mind thrilled at the thought of having the tables turned on her. She noted that her opponent turned her attention away to the crowd and glanced sidelong across the many faces. In her brief scan, she may have looked over Phoebe’s compatriots but had no way of knowing who they were. Just strangers in the crowd.

When the blond suddenly stopped fighting though, Akane eased back on top of her. Her heart was pounding from the brief resistance she had received but it seemed as though she was back in control. The woman’s confession of love startled her for a moment, causing her lidded eyes to blink. Perhaps something was said in the heat of the moment? After all, neither woman really knew each other. When the blond finally surrendered to her advances, Akane let herself slip back into the role of seductress she had found herself in.

Akane let her hand slip away from Phoebe’s cheek, letting it slowly travel down her neck to rest atop her covered breast. She could feel the perked nipple beneath her touch and rolled the ball of her palm over the top of it slowly. When it came to a rest, she cupped the woman’s breast from the side, moving a thumb to more directly play with her nipple through the cloth.

Her other hand descended, wiggling under the girl’s bottoms, her fingers exploding as they found what they were searching for. Softly, she pressed down between the blond’s legs, letting two fingers slip inside her. Then moved forward and back, a bit further each time before eventually traveling their full length. She curled her slender digits inside Phoebe, teasing at the delicate pearl of womanhood buried within. She leaned in, grinding their bodies up against one another, and placed a kiss upon her lips, moaning softly as she moved to drive Phoebe, who was already so close, over the edge.

The blonde sweetheart, pleasured beyond belief, and puffing up her chest, let out a loud sequence of moans—a lovely symphony of cute whimpering reflecting off the walls. Though, that wasn't the worst of it; the tampering of her top, caused it to finally tear apart into two pieces. Her breasts exposed to everyone in the room, the audience immediately lit with an intense exhilaration at her freed nipples. Phoebe squeaked, stricken with embarrassment and dread. She wanted to roll on her stomach, and hide her exposed state, but Akane's proverbial leash on her was tight. There was not a chance that she could escape, her opponent's hands deep within her walls. She wasn't sure how the match happened to devolve to this point; the two, in the midst of having a tender session of voyeurism in the middle of their match. Of course, there were no disqualifications, but this was far beyond Phoebe's expertise, and it was clear that she was on the edge of losing to an unexpected technique, that preyed on her physical weakness.
She tried to rock her midriff back and forth, her midsection rubbing against Akanes in a ticklish succession that only worked to weaken Phoebe's vagina, as she tried to hold back laughter—her cheeks blazing a dark red. She was at her limit, but if she could just slip away, she could surely recover somehow. Internally, the blonde virgin repeated to herself over and over, that all she had to do was stop herself from cumming, but that was far easier said than done. Her opponent's fingers were soft, with nails that pecked at her labia; there was no chance in Hell that she could forcefully pick herself out of the hold, without scratching her urethra—subsequently cumming out of pure euphoria. By then, the two were near the ropes, and the referee didn't seem to be doing much besides adoring the two jobbers fight for the smallest amount of glory that could get. She hoped, by pure chance, that he would have the clearance to push the two apart if she could touch the bottom beam of the ring.
However, as her eyes darted across the room, she once again locked eyes with the brunette heel. What once was a mind-numbing feeling turned into that of enthralling disgust, the blonde virgin incapable of resisting the slightest touch to her privates. Despite that, Yona didn't seem to care—she didn't give a single shit. In a strange way, she felt slightly aroused, yet, of course, heartbroken once again. Yona had the same old stern look she gave whenever her mind was elsewhere. She was probably thinking about her girlfriend, or if that new Kanye album would drop today. Phoebe knew her better than anyone else; she could even read her like a book, but in the end, she chose someone else. Then and there, she lost more energy to fight back than ever.

Akane’s slender body rocked up against Phoebe in a steady rhythm, pressing herself up along the woman’s thigh and mashing her chest to the blond’s. Her palm moved over the top of her exposed breast, claiming it in its entirety with her hand and giving it a firm grope. Her lips indiscriminately kissed trails across her neck and shoulders, lost to the moment and enthralled by the soft sounds of pleasure that escaped her willing captor.

Akane buried her face into the woman’s neck again, suckling at her throat. She turned her hand over little by little with each thrust of her fingers within Phoebe, slipping her thumb in between those delicate velvet walls as well, pressing the top of her finger to the blond girl's clitoris, rubbing small circles over the top of it at a quickening pace to push her opponent to climax.