Mika returns to the League

From the center of her new ring, Tifa, barely dressed with a red silk kimono, surveyed the impressive pavilion where the League's battles would take place. A large Yin and Yang symbol was emblazoned on the great circular tatami of the combat zone, separated from the spectators by a moat, reminiscent of a medieval fortress. The spectators, divided into eight groups of wooden bleachers, completed the octogonal structure of the I-Ching hexagram with which the pavilion had been built, a replica of a 19th-century dojo, made of wood and illuminated by strategically placed torches and mirrors to amplify the light.

Hidden from the spectators' view, in order to disrupt the ambiance as little as possible, a myriad of cameras could capture images from almost any conceivable angle, while, in the shadows of the ceiling, several silent drones completed the image capture in shots unthinkable just a few years ago. Cutting-edge technology merged with tradition to create a unique and exciting environment.

"Welcome to the new OSF dojo! A new dojo for the beginning of a new era," Tifa roared, her voice resonating strongly in the place, despite the fact that, apparently, she did not have a microphone at her disposal, nor were there any visible speakers or amplifiers. Everything invisible, all high-tech to maintain a traditional atmosphere in the 21st century.

Tifa, smiling confidently and contentedly, slowly turned 360 degrees, observing the select audience that populated the stands. Through her earpiece, she had been informed that her "special guest" was entering the building and was on her way to the ring. "If you think you've seen everything in this ring... you're wrong! This League is always ahead of your wildest imagination! In this new ring, you will see and experience events that no one has ever dreamed of! Any wet dreams you may have had will pale in comparison to what you see here! You will see…!", Tifa was saying when she was interrupted abruptly.

"Are you kidding me?! I already told you I'm done with you and your freaking League I'm outta here, I'm done with all this crap! " roared a voice from one of the entrances, although only the spectators in the closest stands could hear it. Although all the spectators could see her, advancing towards the ring, towards Tifa. A growing murmur grew among the spectators as they recognized the woman, who with incredible strides of her sculptural legs was getting closer and closer to the moat. Sculptured legs preceded a voluptuous torso, crowned by a pair of enormous, proudly rounded, titanic breasts that were clearly visible through the low-cut white satin dress she wore - breasts that bounced wildly from side to side, up and down with every step she took, seeming on the verge of bursting or breaking out of the cage they were contained in, outlinning a pair of large, stiffened nipples.

Shell glasses covered his almond-shaped eyes, while his hair was tied back in a large bun. Despite her age, around fifty-five, this mature woman of around six feet tall looked imposing as she walked confidently on her high heels, making the floor echo with every clack of her heels on the wooden planks.

“And here we have a woman who'll keep us on the edge of our seats and an a bone into your pants, fight after fight! A woman we'll never get tired of seeing naked time and time again! A woman who ignites passion and jealousy in equal doses! ¡The woman we’d all kill to have as our mom, or our lover, or to fuck with in a steam elevator! She’s got it all, talet, beauty and a pair of massive, firm boobs! And she’s about to take the stage by storm! She is...the great...MIKA! Awesome Champion of the league, skilled sexologist and celebrity!” Tifa roared, satisfied, approaching the edge of the ring, where, on the other side, Mika waited, furious, unable to jump the nearly three meters of moat that lay before her.

"I already made it clear: I'm done with the League What's wrong with you people?What part of that sentence don't you get?! " howled Mika, her her voice could be heard clearly all along the dojo, despite not having a mic and amidst the growing murmurs of admiration and lust that her presence had stirred up among the crowd.

Tifa smiled with confident, with scorn. "Don't talk nonsense, Mika! We've heard you say that a million times, after every loss and every win! Admit it You love fighting in the League! You love the rush of power that comes with stepping into that ring! You love dominating your opponents almost as much as you love being dominated by them! You're addicted to it! And you're the League's champion! Nobody's been able to take the title from you, no matter how many dirty tricks they've tried, no matter how many humiliating losses you've suffered! You're the best, you're the most powerful, and you love feeling that power! And you want to keep proving it until you find someone who's even more powerful than you and takes it away from you... just so you can enjoy the thrill of losing!”

Mika blushed, embarrassed. Tifa knew her inside and out, almost better than she knew herself. And everything she had said was spot on. She was a **** to the ring, to the League, to the rush of power that came with physically, mentally, and sexually overpowering her opponents, or being overpowered by them in return.

Although she'd never admit it, Mika secretly, behind closed door, watched her own fights, over and over again, specially when, in such a fights, she was defeated. She cummed enjoying those images, listening her own pitiful cries of pleasure, lust, despair and shame, while she was used as a sexual object…Tifa had nailed it. She got a kick out of being the one in control in the ring, but she got an even bigger thrill from being on the receiving end of a beatdown, being dominated and humiliated by a worthy opponent, all while the crowd ate it up."

“You're not fooling anyone, least of all yourself. You're not going to walk away from the ring, or your title as champion. You're addicted to the rush of adrenaline, the thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat. You can't resist the temptation of being worshipped by your fans, or reviled by your haters. And you're certainly not going to deny the other fighters in the League the chance to take you down, to feel your power, or to break your spirit.“, Tifa laughed, her voice full of self-confident. In fact, Tifa owned Mika’s spirit. She knew well her inner motivations. And, with her on the League, it means profit.

"Let's go, Mika Veterans and newcomers alike are waiting for you You have no idea what other surprises are waiting in the wings...for you and for the fans, this season!”, Tifa declared, just as a wooden platform quietly extended itself, spanning the chasm between the audience and the ring. “This is your place, right here, on the ring”, she added.

Mika knew she was powerless against the addiction that came with fighting in the League. Tifa and the ring had her in a stranglehold, and she was trapped in a never-ending cycle of victory, humiliation, and defeat. With a hint of uncertainty, she started to make her way across the catwalk, but as the crowd's fervent cheers and chants of desire reached her ears, her doubts began to fade. Mika's steps grew more assured, and she realized that she was actually addicted to the rush of adrenaline and the thrill of the fight.

And, just like her devoted fans and rabid haters, Mika was dying to know what Tifa had planned for her, which fresh faces she would be facing off against, and whether they would have the skills to take her down.