Tigers! In! Space! Bengal VS. Project Cosmolux

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal let go of Cosmo’s wrists, watching with a smirk as her opponent attempted vainly to cover her all-too-human face with the shredded remnants of her mask. The young woman’s purple lipstick had blended together with the blood trickling from her nose, forming a dull brown crust that made her look as if she’d been eating mud.

“That’s disappointing,” the Tiger sighed, pushing the other woman onto her side with the toe of her boot. “All that buildup, and you’re just some alien cosplayer? I was expecting a few tentacles, or something…what a letdown!”

Her gaze fell on Cosmo’s quavering lip, and the tears swelling in those bright green eyes, now plainly visible through the lenses she’d shattered with her knee strikes. “Ugh, please don’t tell me you’re gonna start crying,” she griped, her nose wrinkling with disgust. “I liked you better when you were just talking nonsense. Then again…” She bent down behind her opponent as she spoke, nestling close against her. “...Maybe you shouldn’t talk at all!”

With that, Bengal hooked her fingers into the eyeholes of the mask and began pulling in opposite directions, attempting to rip the visor in half. If she succeeded, she’d stuff the larger of the two pieces into the other woman’s mouth, gagging her with her own costume! Once this humiliation was complete, the Tiger would apply her infamous Terror’s Clasp submission, securing Cosmo’s arm behind her shoulder, then wrenching on her trapped head until her spine was strained to its breaking point. The sweat-soaked fabric pressing down on Melody’s tongue would make a verbal submission impossible, leaving her with no choice but to tap, tap, TAP!

Terror's Clasp

[SweetHeart]

RRRIIIP!

The sound of tearing plastic and reinforced fabric was sickeningly loud in Cosmo's ears, before the piece of her torn visor was suddenly crammed into her mouth. The taste of plastic, and sweat filled her senses. Before she could even process the gag, Bengal wrenched up and the Terror's Clasp was locked in, and agony exploded through Cosmo's shoulder and neck. A strangled, wet gurgle was all she could manage past the plastic in her mouth.

The pain was immediate and overwhelming. Her free hand, the one not trapped in the brutal hold, flew to the mat in a frantic, desperate drumming.

TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP!

The referee would call for the bell, and the referee would then order her to let her go! Once she did, the moment the pressure released, Cosmo convulsed forward, coughing and retching, the torn mask fragment falling from her lips with a wet clatter onto the mat. She didn't look at Bengal. She didn't look at the crowd. Scrambling on all fours, she lunged for the ropes, tumbled through them, and collapsed in a heap on the outside floor.

Her hands, shaking uncontrollably, immediately flew to her face, clutching at the remaining tatters of her mask and pulling her hood lower, trying to cover every exposed inch of skin as she curled into a tight, trembling ball. Broken sobs hitched in her chest, audible even over the fading boos of the crowd, the humiliated girl hiding in the shadow of the ring.