Grappling

Wanda barely even had time to blink. One moment she was nervously standing on the spot, both hands trying to cover her pussy, arms both going down over her chest to hopefully get more cover, flushed and fidgeting and staring pleadingly at Nat.

And the next moment Nat was behind her, her arms looped under Wanda's, and by doing so pulling Wanda's back to expose everything to the crowd. Wanda yelped.

"Now, how would you get out of a hold like this?" Natasha said, remarkably conversationally.

Wanda was pretty sure there were people out there who'd pay to be in the position she was in. Stark naked, in the Black Widow's arms... It wasn't like she didn't understand the appeal, but being in front of a rather dizzying audience was a little much.

She struggled, as though she had any hope of getting out of Nat's grip. Her cheeks burned, trying not to think about how her tits must look as she wriggled, squirming from side to side.

She felt the warmth of Natasha's body behind her, the surprising smoothness of her black catsuit pressing against every inch of Wanda's back, breasts against the spot just below her shoulderblades, hips against her ass, leaving Wanda hyperaware of the brush of the leather against her bare skin.

"I asked you a question, Wanda," Natasha said, voice low enough that she at least knew it was only meant for her rather than the audience. "You wouldn't be distracted, would you?"

Oh god damn it, that was what had started this whole enforced nudity ordeal. Nat had objected to how her being concerned about her modesty would get in the way during a fight, now she was apparently insistent on proving that. Wanda flushed, biting her lip to stop from squealing as her fidgeting parted her legs.

Theoretically she could just use her powers. Put Nat in a dream, or throw her across the room, whatever. That'd count as escaping the hold, though she knew from experience that wasn't what Nat wanted; as much as Nat acknowledged that training her powers was vital, she always viewed such things as a crutch. Better to know how to defend herself even without them, then transfer those skills.

But it was very hard to focus on the lessons she'd had before when she could feel the air fizzing against her pussy, squirming against Nat's outfit.

Don't think about it. Desperately try not to think about it.

"J-just thought you wanted to show off the hold," Wanda lied.

Ok, it was the last think she wanted, but hopefully it'd win a little favour and put her a step closer to getting her clothes back. If she was absurdly lucky.

Though given that she was naked while Black Widow demonstrated holds on her in front of an audience, being lucky seemed to be out of the window.

Right, so... Use her weight and her opponent's weight, remember the balance, always be aware of where the centre of gravity was... She still remembered those past lessons, even if it was hard to focus.

Which meant the way out was...

Wanda squeaked, then **** herself to crouch; she didn't know if she caught Nat by surprise, or if Nat just let her do so to demonstrate the escape. Wanda rolled, flushing as she flashed her ass for a second, before sitting up on the pad and facing Natasha.

She'd gotten out, at least. Now she pointedly refused to stand up, only letting the audience see her bare back, as though they weren't well aware of how the rest of her looked. Scarlet-faced, she crossed her arms, legs outstretched ahead of her.

Nat smiled at her.

"That's one," Natasha said. Damn it, she was enjoying this. "Wanda, care to help with the next?"