Unmasked

Unorthodox diversions such as these did not seem like the most prudent course of action considering Gwendolyn’s brimming daily itinerary, which was typically awash with pampered sessions of beautification, dreadfully dull board meetings, and scheduled attendance of some form of opulent and swanky soiree. However, on occasion, it behooves oneself to indulge in a fair bit of chicanery and mirthful festivities to break up one's humdrum life cycle of extravagant tea parties and hobnobbing with her fellow social elite. Hence why Gwendolyn would decidedly not be partaking in any business centered affairs this day and had in fact, opted to send the vast majority of her palatial mansion home for the day and left a skeleton crew of maids and butlers to do her various bidding's. Several of whom would be guiding today's guest of honor from the gated entrance way outside, through the numerous security checkpoints, inside the towering double doors opening to reveal the majestic foyer, and navigating her throughout the heiress' grandiose living accommodations until they came upon the training facility. Hosting all manner of state-of-the-art exercise machines used towards aiding the aristocrat in perfecting her honed grappling excellence...although none of these were quite as pivotal towards that goal than the wrestling ring erected square in the middle of this spacious gymnasium. Perfectly created, blue and white ring ropes to better suit Gwendolyn's preferred color palette, her company's logo brandished in it's center...

G.D.B.:

...and beside which, the snobbish blue-blood patiently bided her time with a stream-swirled tea-cup placed beside her by an attentive maid. Gwendolyn having long since donned her form-fitting wrestling attire that hugged every curvature of her perfect frame, and was now sitting cross-legged atop the apron of the ring canvas, merrily perusing her smart phone whilst awaiting the arrival of a certain rambunctious cowgirl whose become quite the delightful source of blithesome amusement since she'd made her unforeseen return within AFW's rather infamous confines. One coincidental encounter leading towards another with Madam Rogers, and Gwendolyn never failing to bid adieu from each lovely rendezvous without a smug sense of superiority and the infuriated cowgirl stewing with a scorching hot temperament. An occurrence that seemed to be a perpetual outcome when it came to Gwendolyn and her long-time Friction rival, and one in which she knew her blonde adversary was acutely aware of. So~...in a rather brilliant stroke of unparalleled genius on her esteemed part, Gwendolyn had concocted this day's events perfectly to allow herself all manner of pleasurable gratification. But all good things would come in time, for this would be a night of definitive closure between the pairing as to whom the superior grappler was among other matters...for now though, Gwen continued perusing her corporation’s stock prices and re-scheduled her session of primping up her illustrious golden ringlets for another day.

Julia:

Everything about this just felt like it had to be some kind of bizarre dream. For starters, Julia couldn’t remember the last time she’d ridden in a taxi while wearing her ring gear. She’d done it a few times during indy tours in the U.S., although those were instances where she had been running late and wasn’t sure she’d have time to change at the venue. This was the first trip like this for the cowgirl in Japan, but she wasn’t late or in any rush. She was just sitting in the back of a taxi, in her ring gear... and going to Gwen’s house of all places.

Various red flags and alarms had been going off in her head all day. Every time the luchadora crossed paths with Gwen, the insufferable aristocrat seemed to do everything in her power to get under Julia’s skin and make her fly off the handle. And she almost always succeeded too. The more reasonable part of her brain tried to caution her that there were a lot more ways this could go wrong than right. Even so, Julia hated how Gwen had talked down to her in the restaurant, and hated the thought of just letting her get away with it even more. Whatever Julia was walking into, she was determined to stand up for herself.

The masked blonde was brought out of her thoughts when the taxi came to a stop, and her door was opened by a finely dressed butler, an immensely stark contrast to the gruff man with unkempt hair who had driven her here. Being escorted from the old taxi and through the security checkpoints to the mansion ahead, the sudden shift in atmosphere was so drastic Julia couldn’t help think of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, and even had to resist the urge to mutter “We’re not in Kansas anymore” to no one in particular. The cowgirl didn’t want to openly show any sign that she was impressed by Gwen’s home, but once she was led inside it was impossible not to. The extravagant and grandiose interior was unlike any place she’d ever seen outside of movies. It was one thing to know Gwen was rich. But to see what that wealth looked like in person, it was almost staggering. She tried, largely in vain, not to think much about it as she was led through the halls, and finally arrived in the gym. The private facility here was even better than the Friction gym. Hell, even the ring looked significantly nicer! Granted this one likely didn’t have dozens of wrestlers practicing in it on a daily basis, but that seemed beside the point.

Seeing Gwen by the ring, Julia glanced around the place again, largely because she really didn’t want to look her rival in the eye and make it clear how much she envied her after seeing everything she had. “...Nice place ya got, Gwen,” she said plainly while crossing her arms under her chest.

Even amongst the noticeable churning noises of the gym door being opened in the far off distance of the exercise room, Gwendolyn’s zeroed in attention on her smartphone had yet to be perturbed. Scanning through her corporation’s stock prices and re-scheduling her session of primping up her illustrious golden ringlets with her world class beautician were for now taking tip top priority. Habits such as these were unsurprisingly commonplace for the heiress, especially considering how business-minded an individual in her exalted position must be. The day was fast approaching when she'd officially be deemed qualified to become COO and helm all facets of her family's conglomerate, not simply the numerous divisions and international branches currently under her complete authority. Such was one more reason why she sought to engage in this lovely dalliance with Madam Rogers, since opportunities like these may one day become unfeasible with such a heightened workload.

Julia's rather gauche observation did little to instill confidence in the cowgirl's conversational skills, although it did prompt the prim socialite to finally place her smartphone down beside her and offer the cowgirl the attention she'd only somewhat earned. Gwendolyn replaced her smartphone with the decorative tea cup beside her, stringently adhering to tea-cup etiquette with all fingers in their proper place and pinky extended before she brought it to her lips. Savoring the taste of the Darjeeling tea with a refined cadence before lowering her cup with a sweet smile on her visage. "As succinctly informal as I'd come to expect from you, Madam Rogers. But come now. There's no need to levy such undue praise for so menial a hovel. Mine Puh-Pah acquired it as Summer home for us to abscond to for vacations when I was younger, but for now I thought it would suit our dueling needs sufficiently enough. Perhaps one day I'll invite you to my actual domicile and offer a first class tour within~..."

Upon indulging in the sublime taste of her refined tea once again, the posh blueblood would place her tea cup back on its platter and tumble underneath the bottom rope before hopping up onto her feet. Being so kind as to sit on the middle rope and widen the gap for her grappling guest today. "...*giggle*...I do hope you'll forgive me for asking, but might I inquire as to why you saw the need to gallivant about in your wrestling attire on your way here? Our dressing rooms are readily available and can accommodate most anyone. Ah~...were you perhaps so utterly enthused for our glorious entanglement that you saw little reason in prolonging our engagement by showing up garbed in naught but the wrestling attire you intend to make caressed, frictioned contact with mine own~..." Gwendolyn pompously enunciated with bloviating theatricality, dainty hand on her fulsome chest throughout.

Julia could hardly believe what she was hearing - a feeling she was beginning to notice as a theme whenever Gwen started talking. To the cowgirl this place looked like a grand palace, unlike any place she had ever been to before. But to Gwen this “hovel” was just a serviceable summer home? If that’s all this was, then what the hell could this woman’s actual home be like in comparison?! The masked blonde practically felt herself go dizzy just trying to even imagine it. She almost felt embarrassed for thinking so highly of this place now, and was glad she had kept her comment so understated.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d love that,” she replied to Gwen’s offer of a tour of her real home someday. Granted, she knew the offer was likely not genuine, just a bit of casual small talk. Even so, it was rather easy to imagine the heiress taking no small amount of joy in flaunting her wealth in Julia’s face to her heart’s content. It wasn’t a secret the luchadora had left Japan for two years to help her family deal with their financial issues. They had clawed their way out of that hole and were making money again, even now, Julia couldn’t help but wonder just how good it was making Gwen feel to put such a giant spotlight on the drastic difference between their families’ financial statuses.

She shook the thought off, and started to walk toward the ring when her host went to hold the rope down for her, but came to an abrupt stop after being teased for showing up in her attire. Thank god her mask hid it, because she immediately began to blush in embarrassment behind it. “What are you-?! Look, you never said anything about that! How was I supposed to…” To what, know that a place owned by Gwendolyn DuPont Bettencourt would have some kind of place where she could change? Yeah, in hindsight not realizing that was kind of silly. But Julia’s inexplicable anxiety about this had prevented her from thinking through some of her decisions in preparation for it. Now knowing she could’ve avoided making the trip over in her ring gear made her feel a bit foolish, especially when Gwen teasingly suggested some sort of eagerness for the chance to wrestle around with her had been part of that decision.

“Whatever, let’s just get this over with!” she said, hopping up onto the apron and quickly stepping through the opening Gwen provided through the ropes to enter the ring. Julia strode to a corner in the far side of the ring, grabbing the ropes and pulling on them to get a feel for how tight they were. Then she began to stretch her limbs out, wanting to get limber, but also just trying to keep herself occupied in hopes that it would make it a little easier to get her head in the game here. Her mind felt like it was trying to go in a hundred different directions at once. Hopefully getting things started here would help on that front.

“Well, it’s your place, so it’s only fair you get to set the rules. What’s it gonna be?”

Such unwarranted animosity towards an earnest offering of showcasing her humble palatial residence. Twas only customary of aristocratic homeowners to provide invited guests a first class tour of their regal chateau. Simply as a means of sparking conversation and perhaps coming upon a leisurely activity that could encompass the rest of their day...such as a rousing game of polo upon coming across the horse stables in the farthest reaches of Gwen's 50-acre backyard. Gwendolyn admittedly somewhat curious as to whether Julia was as proficient in horseback riding as her cowgirl persona would have one believe, and therefore somewhat deepened her inquisitive resolve to one day dally about her upper class accommodations with Madam Rogers in tow before flinging the mallet into Julia's hands and springing upon her the challenge for a rousing game of horseback mounted, sporting good merriment~...and yes perhaps Gwendolyn sought to rub Julia's masked face in all of the opulent riches at her finger tips, but one could hardly blame the heiress for that.

Especially when a flummoxed Julia was ever so delightful a spectacle, Gwendolyn stifling a posh giggle behind her curled index finger from the cowgirl straining herself to explain why she arrived in full ring gear when there was no reason to suspect that a lady of Gwen's renowned wealth would not be prepared with so basic an amenity as an Olympic grade gym facility rife with all of the latest in physical fitness technology. Hmm...did Gwendolyn detect an odd smidgen of anxiety towards today's grappling endeavors?~...Be that as it may, the smug highborn opted to pay it no further attention and help keep the ropes open as any courteous sparring partner would, and bounced off of it to take her own corner across from Julia's. For now performing a number of ballet stretches for utmost flexibility, propping one her ankles on the top rope while reaching in her foot's direction with her back towards the cowgirl. Julia having finished limbering up before herself, so Gwen opted to continue her regiment while addressing her adversary's reasonable inquiry.

"...*giggle*...House Rules, indeed. Well, for the sake of further accomplishing this match's divine purpose of establishing whom among us is the superior grappler, I entertained the notion of us contending under a somewhat more flexible set of rulings." Gwen not intending for any semblance of a pun as she than turned around to face Julia, and extended her foot skyward with the treads of her wrestling boots facing the ceiling. The heiress continuing onward with her dulcet tones and hazel eyes looked upon Jules."...Winning conditions are of course achieved through pin-fall, submission, or countout...but to allow us a further unencumbered bout, methodology of achieving those goals can be through whatever our imaginations can concoct. No referee, as well...that is unless you'd prefer I instruct one of my servants to don those gaudy pinstripes. Or do you not trust that I can wrestle in a civil manner?" Gwendolyn queried before dropping down into a perfect split, arching forward until her elbows touched the canvas with her hands propping up her chin and smirking visage.

As it happened, Julia was a pretty decent rider. She had never owned a horse of her own or participated in any kind of sport on one, but her aunt and uncle on her mother’s side had horses, and had taught her to ride.

That bit of trivia aside, the masked cowgirl was keeping her focus on Gwen while she stretched, listening to her response to Julia’s inquiry about the rules of their little spar today. It almost felt dangerous to allow someone like the heiress to set the rules, knowing she was as every bit shrewd as she was wealthy. Still, even though Julia was no aristocrat, she had good enough sense and manners to know the host had the right to call the shots in a scenario like this. But as the heiress stretched and totally unintentionally called attention to her flexibility with that pun, the masked blonde found herself observing Gwen’s body.

In their previous encounters, given the nature of them, Julia had been too focused on things like being dogpiled by an army of guards, or having her mask pulled off, or getting blue mist sprayed in her eyes to notice...certain other things about the heiress, like the way Gwen’s outfit perfectly complimented her curves without excessively flaunting anything. Eye involuntarily focusing on her rival’s hips and legs, Julia suddenly found herself recalling the feeling of Gwen smothering her unconscious with a facesit the first time they met, and then having her face framed and trapped by Gwen’s thighs and crotch when she mounted Julia in a tight schoolgirl pin during their Entropy Championship bout.

Julia quickly shook those thoughts off, again glad her mask was there to hide the reddish flush on her cheeks, and relieved she had still caught what Gwen said despite the distracting thoughts. “No, no need to get any employees of yours involved,” Julia replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. Really the only potential issue she saw within the rules Gwen laid out was that, for all intents and purposes, this would be a no-dq match. She doubted this would devolve into hardcore territory. But she also wasn’t sure just how Gwen intended to make use of the rule, though something in her head told her Gwen had likely already figured that out. Whatever the case, she had come too far to back out now.

“Fine then, that all sounds good to me. Let’s get this thing started!”

Gwendolyn could scarcely muster any semblance of shock from Julia's preference on refraining from utilizing the services of any of her loyal employees. It was perhaps that same loyalty that sparked Julia's hesitance in the first place since the last time she was in their deliberate vicinity they had dogpiled upon her. An act performed due to Julia's own brazen assault upon a defenseless heiress whom she'd shown her back to, mind you. And therefore the blame entirely rested upon her shoulders for that particular kerfuffle. However, it did set a rather irksome precedent for outside interference muddling up their affairs. Whether it was raven-haired boyfriends leaping to Julia's defense, Amazonian interlopers capitalizing upon their grappling attention being concentrated on the other, or meddling tag-partners diving in for last second rescues. Yes, Gwendolyn could rightfully understand Julia's insistence on barring all others from playing a role in this delightful little matchup...

"Very well. A pity, though. I know of one particular maid under my employ who possesses a wealth of grappling experience who could have played the role brilliantly. Still, consider myself flattered and earnestly taken aback that you insist on the utmost privacy for this delightful little romp of ours~...Merely you and I, and no other set of prying eyes to cast their judgmental gaze upon us~..." Nimble and deliberate in her movements and choice of words, Gwendolyn arose from her ballet-trained split with a hand flicking her golden curls to the side before propping it on the rounded curve of her hip. "Yes, let us indeed get this thing started, as you so eloquently put it. And afterwards you just may learn how to properly bow in humble servitude before mine own regal superiority...for starters~..." Gwendolyn poshly uttered and taking it all in stride, including actually striding out from her corner in an elegant waltz before attempting a dueling lock-up with Julia, although one that was immediately transitioned into a snug and cranked in side headlock.

Though Julia’s mask had served to hide the blushes that had been coming up in response to Gwen’s innuendoes, it was occurring to the masked blonde that her tone and body language had been revealing how flustered the heiress’ words were making her. She could think of little other reason as to why Gwen would speak of this spar between them as if they were a pair of lovers eloping to secretly share in some sort of forbidden love. Once more Julia tried to shake the embarrassing thoughts from her mind, though the comment about learning to “bow in humble servitude” to Gwen put a mental image in the American’s mind that made the task even more difficult.

“Alright, alright! Enough talking!” Julia knew perfectly well she wasn’t about to win a verbal joust here. And continuing to lose them was only going to make it harder for her to focus on the task at hand. So the cowgirl put up her hands and came out of the corner to meet Gwen in the middle of the ring, engaging the lockup. Before Julia could do anything with that, however, she was suddenly pulled into a tight side headlock. “Ngh!” she winced while struggling against the heiress’ clutches, not failing to notice the feeling of the side of Gwen’s breast pressing against her masked cheek. Julia placed a hand at her opponent’s lower back while trying to walk them both back into the ropes. If she could get them there, then she would push out with her hand to try to send Gwen running into the ropes at the other side of the ring, hoping that would be enough to get herself out of the headlock.

Why, if Gwendolyn didn't know any better, she would be under the sneaking suspicion that Julia's mindset was daresay...preoccupied. Distracted, even. The posh socialite certainly had nary the foggiest of clues as to what could possibly be occupying Julia's thoughts considering this was contentious rematch she herself had so zealously campaigned for in the first place. Still, far be it from the benevolent aristocrat to deny Julia her own utmost attention and refined grappling acumen once the pairing had engaged in their opening lock-up. Seamlessly transitioned into an assertive side headlock upon the cowgirl which felt oppression not only from the tightened squeeze of the heiress' bicep but the sublime softness nuzzled against the side of her masked visage.

For now the heiress would adhere to Julia's hollered request for an embargo on further dialogue between the rivals, as irksome as it was for Gwendolyn to button her lips considering her naturally loquacious nature. Instead she'd occupy her time by bearing down on the headlock by stomping her boot and solidifying her frame into it's utmost rigidity. Never failing to notice the patting hand on her lower back or the sudden direction the both of them were taking towards the ropes just behind them. An unwelcome development, but one that the top one percent could perhaps maneuver towards her own delightful advantage. Gwendolyn backpedaling along with Julia, but upon the cowgirl's backside leveraging against the ropes, the heiress would utilize all of that forward momentum to take off into a sprinted leap for an attempted running bulldog.

Julia almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing, or rather, what she wasn’t hearing anymore. When had telling Gwen to stop talking ever worked before? And how small were the odds that it would ever work again? The heiress’s posh, taunting and condescending tirades had always done such a good job at getting under the cowgirl’s skin that she scarcely believed it possible that she would ever be spared from it while in Gwen’s presence. In reality it was only a small victory, minuscule even. But for Julia, it was almost cause for some manner of celebration in and of itself.

Regretfully, however, any joy the masked blonde felt would be short-lived. She still had the headlock to worry about, and the heiress wouldn’t let her simply escape it so easily. Julia winced at the increased pressure as Gwen bore down on her hold, before the cowgirl sought to send her foe across the ring. Many tried to counter the push-off strategy Julia was employing by either cranking down on the headlock again at the height of their momentum, or would simply run off with the intention of attacking again on the rebound. Gwen, however, took a more innovative approach, using the momentum Julia generated to propel herself into a bulldog, driving the American’s masked face down to the mat! She let out a muffled shout at the impact, her hands immediately leaving Gwen’s frame to rest over her face while pain throbbed in her head.