Madeline Christiansen vs. Ryota Ito - Exceeding Expectations

[BlackAkuma]

Credit where it was due, Madeline was holding out longer than just about anyone Ryota could remember in this hold. It wasn’t going to get her anywhere, and it hardly mattered one way or another, but still - impressive. Her opponents often went to sleep after about ten or so seconds, maybe a little more if they were putting up a real fight, but the Briton was hanging in long past her expiration date.

Pointless, in the end. Ryota’s strength was more than enough to keep her under control. She could already see the telltale signs of oncoming unconsciousness, could feel the sluggishness in her limbs, the wavering beats of her heart. Any second now, any second…

She wasn’t deterred, not even as her opponent began to walk her way up the turnbuckle, even as she flipped over, even as the two of them went down. She still had the hold. She still had the win.

And then she heard the count. Ryota’s eyes shot wide as she realized her position, her shoulders pressed to the mat with the more petite woman on top. The referee’s hand came down once more.

”2…!”

Ryota went into a panic, struggling, trying to get Madeline off her. It wouldn’t be that hard, she was far stronger than the woman, had the energy to do it…but do it in a single second? No, that was not happening. She tried her best, moved as quickly as her bulking body would allow, but in the end, there was nothing she could do.

”3…!”

The final count. The match decided. Over. Ryota tossed Madeline aside and rolled over to her knees, where she stared down at the canvas with a gaping mouth. How? How?

[Lightman]

A lady like Madeline, being such a fan of combat and wrestling, is pretty unheard of. Although she has since moved away from the life of aristocracy, there are a few stereotypes and tropes that many people expect of them. Wrestling would be at the bottom of that list. But that didn’t deter Madeline. Very few sports ever give the same feeling of reward or feeling like you earned quite like this. And it’s the reason she left that pampered, lavish life where things are just handed to you without earning it beyond the birthright.

While she has grown to adore hentai wrestling, she started with the legit stuff—major promotions and even watching videos of freestyle, Greco-Roman, and other types. The brunette remembered seeing this manoeuvre; she just did now. Although Madeline was very confident in her grappling, she believed it didn’t hurt to have a few tricks up her sleeve should certain situations arise.

Madeline knew that wouldn’t completely break Ryota's absolute vice grip on her neck. The gambit could still completely fail. However, Madeline had nothing to lose. And if it ends up well, she just has to hold on for three seconds.

The first count went. Madeline felt the world getting slow, but she felt the slam of the referee’s hand reverberating across the mat.

Then came the second. Her mind desperately clung to the last vestiges of consciousness, trying to will the body to hold on. The English Rose felt the limbs getting sluggish, her heartbeats wavering. Her established base could crumble like a deck of cards at any time. But she gritted her teeth, and gurgled breaths, and this position didn’t help matters either. Madeline could feel herself drifting…drifting…

“3…!”

Suddenly, she felt a rush of oxygen flood her body and lungs after she got flung off the Japanese Juggernaut. Rolling onto her side, instinctively getting to a better recovery position. Madeline looked like she was staring into space before focusing on her whereabouts. The Englishwoman coughed hard, swallowing saliva to get something down her throat. The referee would rush in to check up on her, offering the chocolate brunette a hand up. She soothed her throat with one hand, and with the other, she took the referee’s hand, slowly rising to her feet. Raising her hand, the referee declared Madeline the winner.

It all felt surreal, but Madeline has claimed victory once more.

[BlackAkuma]

No.

No, no, no.

Ryota stayed in the same position, unmoving, for a few more moments as she tried to process what had just happened properly. She’d had Madeline, she’d had her. She could feel the life slipping out of the woman’s veins, she was on the cusp of knocking her out. That match had been hers to win, from bell to bell. She’d dominated.

And yet, here she was. Defeated. Beaten. Madeline had unquestionably gotten the better of her. How? Just…how?

It was unacceptable, and yet, she had no choice to accept it. Ryota had never been one to deny reality, and there was no was getting over what had just happened, despite her brain desperately trying to come up with excuses, Madeline hadn't cheated, she hadn't grabbed the ropes, the referee hadn't done a slow count. She’d simply won, fair and square, no excuses.

When it all sunk in, Ryota burst up to her feet and spun about, her shadow looming over Madeline’s smaller form. It looked to all the world like she was going to go back on the attack and the crowd began to rise, as the referee moved to try and stop her.

No attack came, though. Ryota simply raised her finger, as if she was about to go into a rant, even opened her mouth and spoke one of her rare words. ”You…you-”

Ryota cut herself off before she could come close to finish the sentence, spun about, made her way through the ropes and promptly stormed her way up the ramp, leaving an utterly confused crowd in her wake.