DEFINITIVE SUBMISSION - As advertised by Moira White AND Shanty Williams:

Ladies and gentlemen... welcome to the most provocative, unrelenting spectacle in all of combat entertainment!

From the neon-drenched heart of the Las Vegas Strip, directly across from the MGM Hotel, DEFINITIVE SUBMISSION broadcasts live from its cathedral of carnality... WETPOINT! Our motto? "Control Is Everything."

For over three decades, this arena has stood as the hallowed ground where athleticism meets eroticism, where storylines are forged in sweat and submission, and where nothing is scripted. This is not sports entertainment. This is SEXUAL COMBAT SPORT.

And you’ll hear it all set to our official arena soundtrack—the Mortal Kombat theme on an endless loop. The lawyers say it’s "fair use", the copyright purists disagree. We ignore them both. (It glitches, slows down, or distorts during major moments, and It cuts out briefly when something shocking happens).

I am Moira White, alongside the ever-observant Shanty Williams, and we are your guides into the world of DS. Leave your inhibitions at the door, folks, because inside that ring, the only thing that matters is control.

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What is Definitive Submission?

Imagine the grand spectacle, the theatrical drama, and the bitter rivalries of the WWE. Now, strip away the spandex, remove the scripted finishes, and inject it with unadulterated, competitive erotic combat. That is Definitive Submission.

We are a reality-based, non-scripted erotic wrestling league. Our athletes—the finest female and futanari competitors on the planet—step into the ring not to perform a choreographed dance, but to fight for sexual supremacy. Every slap, every scissor, every forced orgasm is real. The winner doesn’t just get a trophy; she gets the loser. Fully. In any way she desires.

We are 100% competitive. We are 100% unscripted. We are the intersection of high-stakes athletics and raw, hardcore LezDom action. Whether it’s facesitting, strap-on domination, scissoring, or forced masturbation, the action is spontaneous and brutal.

And our fans? They are the sixth man. They line the ring, holding signs, screaming encouragement, and shouting suggestions to the competitors on how to inflict the most humiliating defeat. Including a group of nuns in the front row clutching their rosaries.

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The Arena: Wetpoint

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the cathedral of carnality—Wetpoint! A 20,000‐seat fortress of desire, rising from the neon‐drenched asphalt of the Las Vegas Strip, directly across from the MGM Hotel. Because of course it is.

From the moment you step inside, you feel it: the heat, the noise, the promise of unscripted chaos.

The Ring: At the center stands our battlefield and reinforced for... vigorous activity—a raised square platform, 20 feet by 20 feet between the ropes. The mat is a taut canvas stretched over wood and high‐density padding, sitting about 40 inches off the floor. Trust me, that’s a long way down when you’re thrown from the top rope.

Four steel posts anchor the corners, each wrapped in turnbuckle pads that have absorbed more sweat, spit, and stray body parts than a Vegas honeymoon suite. Connecting them are three springy ropes, color‐coded by brand: red for RawDogging, blue for SittingDown, and green for SX. The top rope sits roughly eight feet high—high enough for a dramatic slingshot, low enough to drape a defeated opponent over when you want the crowd to see every drop of humiliation.

The ring apron extends about twelve inches outside the ropes—a narrow ledge where careers have been saved and submission holds have been reversed. And under that ring? A treasure trove of ladders, tables, chains, toys, etc. You never know what a competitor will pull out when the referee’s back is turned.

The Floor: Surrounding the ring is a padded concrete expanse, about six feet wide, separating the squared circle from the stands. If a brawl spills out here, the referee’s count starts—ten seconds to get back in, or you’re counted out. But if it spills into the stands? Well, that’s where the fun really begins. We’ve seen rivals dragged through row after row, their clothes torn off by the crowd, submission holds applied on beer-soaked concrete while the referee just shrugs and keeps counting. The floor is no man’s land, and the audience loves every second of it.

The Atmosphere: Above the ring, lighting rigs form an overhead grid, casting pools of light that follow the action like a predator’s gaze. Massive LED TitanTron screens flank the entrance stages, tailored specifically to enhance the theatricality of the wrestler, showing their entrance videos, highlights, or graphics during their walk to the ring. A giant four-sided center-hung JumboTron screen right above the ring, replaying every scissor, every slap, every forced orgasm in glorious 4K. Pyrotechnics erupt from the stage—flame jets and smoke cannons—announcing each competitor as they stride through the curtains.

Speaking of the entrance: our stage features a long ramp lined with cameras, leading directly to the ring. When a wrestler makes their way to the squared circle, the crowd knows it. They line the ramp, reaching out, sometimes touching, sometimes... more.

The Crowd & Production: The audience surrounds the ring on all sides, their energy palpable. Ringside row often hosts special guests—retired legends, celebrity superfans, and the occasional high‐roller who paid six figures to be close enough to taste the sweat.

Cameras are everywhere. A fixed hard cam peers down from the balcony opposite the stage, capturing every wide shot. Roving camera operators weave through the chaos at ringside, and we have ladders and rooftop cameras dedicated solely to the entrances. The whole production is a multi‐camera TV broadcast—HD, 4K, live, and absolutely unfiltered.

The Announcer’s Table: That’s where you’ll find Shanty and me, tucked ringside between the crowd and the ring. We have the best seats in the house, but we also have a running bet on how many matches go by before someone—usually a referee or a thrown competitor—crashes through our setup. Spoiler: it’s rarely zero.

The Referee Recovery Zone: Behind our table, tucked against the barricade, is the unofficial "Referee Recovery Zone." It’s where officials stumble after being yelped out of the ring, gasping for air and trying to remember what year it is. They never stay down long. When that whistle blows and the official is out cold, the real fight begins.

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The Rosters: Brands of Pleasure and Pain

We operate three distinct brands to manage our massive roster of egos, bodies, and talents.

• RawDogging (Est. 2018): The flagship. The original. RawDogging is about pure, unadulterated action. It moves fast, hits hard, and focuses on the athleticism of erotic submission. If you want to see technical scissoring and high-impact grappling, this is the brand.
• SittingDown (Est. 2020): The soap opera. While the athleticism is just as high, SittingDown prioritizes the drama. This is where long-term feuds, betrayals, and psychological warfare happen. Grudges held here last for years, and the sex is often personal, vindictive, and deeply humiliating for the loser.
• SX (Est. 2022): The proving ground. SX is where rookies, international imports, and high-flying daredevils make a name for themselves. It’s faster, looser, and often more experimental. If you see a new move or a bizarre sex toy weapon here this week, it’ll be a main-event staple on RawDogging next month.

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The Rules of Engagement

There is only one cardinal sin in DS: being passive.

Matches are structured across Four Rounds: three rounds of pure erotic wrestling, and one "Prize Round."

Scoring:

• Control Points (CP): Awarded for takedowns, pins, and maintaining dominant positions (full mount, reverse headscissors, etc.) for more than 10 seconds.
• Shame Points (SP): Awarded for forced orgasms, exposing the opponent (if they somehow aren't already), and humiliating acts (face-sitting, forced dirty talk, etc.).
• Style Points (StP): Awarded by the audience and judges for creativity. Did you just use a folding chair as a sex swing? That’s Style Points. Did you rip your opponent’s thong off with your teeth while balancing on the top rope? That’s a standing ovation.

General Rules:

1. Destruction of Clothing: The first objective is often to remove the opponent’s attire. Tearing, ripping, and cutting is encouraged. There are no disqualifications for nudity; nudity is the goal.
2. Orgasm as Weapon: Forcing your opponent to orgasm is a legal, encouraged method of breaking their focus. A forced orgasm often results in a "stun" state, allowing for a pin or submission attempt.
3. No Limits: Grappling, fondling, biting, spanking, kissing, licking, grinding, and the use of standard sex toys are legal. The only banned items are sharp objects and fire.
4. The Prize Round: The winner of the first three rounds (determined by total points or a definitive pinfall/submission) dictates the terms of the fourth round. This is where the "LezDom" aspect shines. The loser must submit to the winner’s sexual demands. This can range from a strap-on session to forced servitude, to public humiliation at ringside. The only rule in the Prize Round is that the loser cannot fight back—they must accept their sexual punishment.

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The Referee: The Unluckiest Person in Wetpoint

Every match is overseen by a single official—a certified DS referee. They are trained to navigate flying limbs, sudden strap-on swings, and the occasional folding chair to the skull. But let’s be honest, folks... these brave souls are less "authority figure" and more "sacrificial lamb."

Their job is simple: enforce the rules, count the pinfalls, and maintain some illusion of order. But here’s the kicker—if that referee goes down, order goes out the window.

The "Referee Down" Rule (or Lack Thereof):

Whether by accident (a stray hip toss) or by design (a competitor deliberately shoving the ref into the turnbuckle), the moment the referee is knocked unconscious, incapacitated, or simply yelps and scrambles out of the ring clutching their ribs...

THERE ARE NO RULES.

• Want to introduce a steel chair into the prize round early? Go for it.
• Feel like using a handcuff to make that scissorhold permanent? Be our guest.
• Wanna peg the unconscious referee? Go for it!
• See a rival tag team sneaking into the ring for a 2-on-1 beatdown while the ref is seeing stars? That’s not a disqualification—that’s a tactical advantage.

The chaos continues until the referee stirs, groans, and crawls back to a kneeling position. And let me tell you, Shanty and I have seen referees take shots that would put a heavyweight boxer down for the night. But these officials are resilient. They usually wake up with a whimper, rubbing their head (or ass), and the first thing they see is two competitors locked in a position they definitely didn’t authorize.

A Note on Referee Safety (or Lack Thereof):

Our referees are fucked or yelped out of the ring so often that Wetpoint has a dedicated "Referee Recovery Zone" behind the announcer’s table—which, as Moira and I know all too well, is also the prime landing zone for anyone thrown over the top rope.

So when you hear that whistle blow and the ref is down, you know the real fight has just begun. And when they finally drag themselves back up, gasping for air, the only thing they can do is ask, "What the hell did I miss?"

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Match Types:

We have more stipulations than we have lingerie changes, but here are the classics:

• Singles Match: Four rounds. Three wrestling, one Prize Round. Win by pinfall (shoulders down for 3 seconds, often while penetrated), submission (verbal or physical tap-out), or points victory. Rope breaks are allowed.
• Tag Team Match: Two teams of two. One "legal" competitor per team. The drama comes from the "hot tag"—a fresh partner coming in to dominate a worn-out opponent. Prize Round involves the winning team dominating the losing team, often in a "winner's choice" gang-bang scenario.
• Triple Threat / Fatal 4-Way: No disqualifications. No count-outs. First competitor to score a pinfall or submission wins. The Prize Round is forfeited to the sole victor, who gets to dominate all defeated opponents.
• Ladder Match: The "Golden Dildo" hangs high above the ring. No rules. No disqualifications. Use ladders, chairs, and whatever you can find. The first to climb and retrieve the Golden Dildo can insert it into the loser on the spot. Winner gets a contract for a guaranteed championship title match "anytime, anywhere" (often cashed in opportunistically after a champion is weakened).
• BDSM Cage Match: The ring is encased in a steel cage. Win by pinfall, submission, or escaping the cage door. However, the "BDSM" variant introduces restraints inside—if you catch your opponent, you can chain them to the ropes, forcing a helpless submission.
• Sex in a Cell: A roofed cage that encloses the ring and ringside area. No escape. No disqualifications. The only way to win is by pinfall or submission inside the ring. It is the final battleground for the most violent, intimate rivalries.
• Royal Rumble: Thirty competitors enter at timed intervals. Elimination occurs when a competitor is thrown over the top rope and both feet hit the floor. The last woman or futa standing earns a championship match at our biggest event. The sexual tension? Imagine 30 naked, exhausted warriors waiting for their number to be called. It’s chaos.

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Weight Classes:

To ensure competitive fairness, we group our athletes by the weight they carry and the pressure they can apply.

• Featherweight: 90 – 115 lbs. Speed, agility, and flexibility. These women can wrap themselves into pretzels and choke you out before you realize you’re in a hold.
• Lightweight: 116 – 135 lbs. The perfect balance of speed and strength. The most versatile division.
• Welterweight: 135+ lbs. Power. Mass. Pressure. These competitors use their weight to crush, smother, and dominate. When a Welterweight gets you in a facesit, the lights go out—literally.

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Championships:

Prestige. Power. Sexual sovereignty.

• Rookie Cup Championship: The gateway to stardom. Fought for in the SX brand, this title signifies the future of DS.
• RawDogging World Championship: The workhorse title. Held by the best athlete in the company.
• SittingDown World Championship: The narrative title. Held by the most dangerous personality in the company.
• Tag Team Championships: Defended across all brands. Requires chemistry, trust, and the ability to share a loser.

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The Unpredictable Nature:

Here is the truth, folks. This is not a scripted show. You cannot predict what happens next.

You might see a bitter rival interrupt a championship match, not to help her friend, but to ensure the champion is exhausted so she can cash in her SITW briefcase later.

You might see a tag team implode mid-match because jealousy flares up over who gets the first orgasm out of the defeated opponents.

You might see a random wrestlers appearing out of nowhere to mingle in a fight that is not even related to her. Interferences are common here!

You might see a beloved hero snap and turn into a sadistic villain in the middle of the Prize Round, pushing the humiliation far past what anyone expected.

OR YOU MIGHT WITNESS BACKSTAGE CHAOS: WRESTLING ON THE PARKING LOT, IN THE HALLWAY, IN THE LOUNGE. GRUDGES AND DRAMAS ARE NOT LIMITED TO THE RING, AND OUR CAMERAS ARE ALWAYS ON!

This is not just a sex battle. This is WWE if it was sponsored by Brazzers, run by gladiators, and filmed in the city of sin.

Keep your eyes on the ring, keep your hands to yourself unless invited, and prepare for the hardest-hitting, hardest-screaming action on the planet.

This is DEFINITIVE SUBMISSION. Let’s get it on!

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