The Princess and the Tiger: Katsumi Oshiro VS. Bengal

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

If there's one thing that Bengal hates, it's the feeling of being controlled, being owned by someone else. It's why she left her family and her hometown behind; it's the reason she abandoned her previous federation. Those two words from Katsumi - "You're mine" - hurt more than anything else the Punk Princess has said or done tonight. They hurt more than Bengal's arched back, more than her nearly-dislocated shoulders, more than her stricken abdominals. These lesser pains begin to fade away, subsumed by burning rage. Her anger unlocks new strength, strength that she didn't even know she had.

As her opponent augurs a finger into her navel, Bengal makes her move. She begins flexing and wriggling her left arm, slowly prying it it out from between Katsumi's legs, feeling her opponent's sweat-slick thighs glide over her bicep. Once the trapped limb is free, she can twist her body toward her opponent, relieving some of the pressure on her right arm. More importantly, she finally has a weapon to strike back at Katsumi. There's no time for finesse or precision here. She simply punches and slashes at every part of the punkette she can reach: her shoulders, her chest, her insufferably smug face. "I'M - NOT - YOURS!" she yells, punctuating the words between each blow. "NOT - ANY - BODY'S!" Slowly but surely, she's forcing the Punk Princess back, breaking her seemingly invincible hold.

[CyanDimitrik]

Katsumi was riding high on the euphoria of the match. This was her moment to put Bengal away for the night, in a staggeringly convincing fashion. And if she's being honest with herself, ever since her little... self-discovery about other women, being so tangled up and essentially violently groping Bengal's stomach is a thrill on another level. With her trapped against her, there's nowhere to go and nothing to do but continue working her body over, crushing the abdomen, wrenching screams from her foe...

...until she starts to shockingly pull away. What the heck!? Her knees squirm, attempting to lock her ankles again and prevent the escape. But Bengal manages to power through against all odds, securing a rotation, and turning enough to Katsumi to meet her face to face. And then a fist lands against her cheekbone, stunning the Punk Princess outright. The hand loosens on Bengal's abs, no longer squeezing, but rather just resting flat on her stomach.

Bodies still tangled, but Katsumi's no longer in the dominant position. Her left arm raises to try to deflect some of the shots blindly, turning her face away to not wind up with a broken nose. "Ungh! Nnfh!"

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Every blow Bengal lands grants her a little more relief. First, Katsumi is forced to stop squeezing her midsection. The Tiger fills her lungs with air, taking a full breath for the first time in what seems like an age. Next, Katsumi raises her left hand to guard her face. Her distraction allows Bengal to free her other arm, doubling the amount of strikes she can unleash. She begins to overwhelm the punkette, beating her into a prone position. Then, she digs her nails into Katsumi's ribs and flips the Japanese fighter over onto her stomach.

Cradling her opponent's head with both hands, Bengal stretches her left leg up between her own arms, then begins squeezing the two together, crushing Katsumi's neck. She calls this move the Fearful Symmetry - her own variant of the Koji clutch. Bengal is answering one submission with another, and judging by the noise from the crowd, they're loving how the tables have turned. Bengal isn't paying attention to that, however. Her gaze is fixed on Katsumi's rapidly reddening face, and there's a vengeful gleam in her eyes.

"You wanted me to beg," she growls into Katsumi's ear. "Now it's your turn!"

[CyanDimitrik]

Katsumi can only try to turtle up more and more while the blows rain in, scrunching her head down beneath her forearms. It's impossible to predict where the shots are going to come in, and many - especially those aimed outside of her face - still land, battering the girl. Bengal's claws (read: nails) digging into Katsumi's sides earn an immediate pained yelp, and her guard vanishes in favor of trying to focus on pushing those away, leading her to be rolled over easily.

Arms entangle around her neck, a leg gets added to the mix, and Katsumi's eyes immediately widen in fear. "Ghlk!," she gulps as the pressure starts to pour in. Her legs kick frantically against the mat, arms reaching out ahead of her towards the ropes. Problem is, they're nearly center ring, thanks to Katsumi's own machinations before.

"Y-.. you.. never.. begged..!," she sputters out. Her eyes squeeze shut, fingers curling against the mat. "You.. never.. had a turn..!"

It's cheeky. But that's Katsumi. Born troll. Rascally scamp.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal doesn't respond to Katsumi's trolling, though the Punk Princess is technically right - she never begged. And truthfully, she doesn't give a damn if her opponent does either. It'll be gratifying enough to watch this woman go limp in her grasp, to see the spark in those mocking green eyes finally go out. She keeps squeezing, until the veins in her leg stand out and her knuckles turn white from the pressure. She can feel Katsumi's collar, pressed under her clenched fingers. Despite her hatred for her opponent, Bengal has to admit that she has good taste in accessories. Once the punkette is passed out, she'll rip the collar off her neck and take it as a trophy. A fitting prize for her first L.A.W. win. The prospect makes her smile grow even wider.

[CyanDimitrik]

The seriousness of the situation isn't lost on Katsumi, despite her quippy nature. Her eyes widen, her cheeks flushed, trying to haul both their bodies along the mat. It's a slow trek, and her energy is rapidly draining.

The referee drops beside the pair on her knees. "Do you submit!?," she shouts over the white noise roar of the crowd.

Katsumi ignores her. She has a single-minded focus right now. Those ropes. With every ounce of strength she has in her, she has to persevere and crawl for them. To force a rope br-

"This is a no-DQ, Oshiro-san!," shouts the referee-girl, reminding her. There would be no rope breaks here tonight.

With her arm still outstretched, inches away from the cable, the realization hits Katsumi like a ton of bricks. Bengal can feel her throat gulp a few times, struggling to continue breathing - but the pressure, and that hard knock to her morale with that reminder... it seems to be too much. The arm drops to the mat.

Katsumi's head slumps, her gaze slowly starting to lid over. She can feel the tinges of unconsciousness creeping in, the darkness starting to cloud her vision. The terror of falling helpless to someone she doesn't know, much less trust whatsoever, grips her heart tightly. "D-.. don't..," she croaks to Bengal weakly. "P-.. please.. I.. I can't.. glk.. breathe..."

No longer struggling to escape, Katsumi is on the verge of passing out. The referee can see it. The audience can see it. Bengal can surely see it, as much as feel it.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal can hear the desperation in Katsumi's voice, see the stark terror written across her face. The punkette's throat spasms under her fingers, sending a shiver of excitement down her spine. Things are working out better than she could have hoped for. Her opponent has wasted the last of her energy in a futile bid for a rope break. She's so close now. All she has to do is keep squeezing. Of course, a little trash talk couldn't hurt either.

"Can't breathe? That's the whole point of a choke, you dumb punk," she snarks, laughing softly. She takes a few exaggerated breaths, blowing hot breath into Katsumi's ear, taunting her opponent with the very thing she's denying to her. "Plenty of fresh air out here," she continues, jerking her head toward the referee. "Why don't you listen to the nice lady, and just submit?"

[CyanDimitrik]

Katsumi offers no resistance as she's manipulated in closer for Bengal to hiss in her ear. She's too woozied to even be mad. She's just scared; a sort of primal fear gripping her. But she lacks the strength to do anything about it. The last time she felt this way was with Sienna Smith, but even though they definitely didn't get along, Sienna gave her an out. Suddenly, Katsumi regrets not trying to be nicer to her. It made for hella good t.v., their feud was the talk of the town, but she was such a jerk to her when the alternative could've been...

...this.

A choked whimper escapes the punkette, her expression straining. There's a faint struggle, pulling against the tangle of limbs. But rapidly, her expression softens and the light leaves her eyes. The glimmer of vibrant green dulls to a flat matte, and Katsumi's head lowers, cradled in Bengal's arms. Her lids lower until her eyes are shut.

Finally, the Punk Princess lies limp on the mat.

Immediately, the referee is lifting the girl's free arm by the wrist. It dangles lifelessly as it's suspended, cameras flashing to immortalize the moment. And when she releases it, it drops unceremoniously to the mat.

"One!"

She takes the wrist again, raising it. Once more, the arm dangles limply. When turned loose, the arm drops to the mat.

"Two..!"

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal watches, exhilarated, as Katsumi fades away. She basks in the glow of the camera flashes surrounding her, glad to know that there will be plenty of documentation for her first L.A.W. win. Everyone will know about what I've done here, she thinks to herself. Everyone will know my face.

She doesn't release Katsumi from the clutch just yet. She wants to cradle her opponent in her arms a bit longer, to play with her silky raven hair. And after that...well, who knows? She does ease off on the pressure, however. The other woman is already out; there's no reason for Bengal to strain herself. The referee raises Katsumi's hand for what's sure to be the third and final drop...

[CyanDimitrik]

Katsumi is gone. Miles away. Nothing but inky blackness. But there persists the dull, distant, but tight pressure around her neck. Nothing matters anymore. There's peace. Stillness. And that aching pressure around her neck.

All around the ring, cameras continue to flash, eager to immortalize the moment LAW's newest addition takes down a veteran. Some in the crowd are excited to see the exotic beauty lay claim to her first victory. Others are urging Katsumi to come back to them, to wake up and fight through. And as the referee raises her hand for that third time, both sides of the coin grow louder.

Katsumi doesn't hear it. She just feels a little jostling at her side. And that painful pressure on her neck.

That damned persistent pressure. It clouds her mind with continuing fear and frustration. It keeps an otherwise peaceful silence and stillness from being painless. It anchors her to the waking world, to the immediate moment. And the more her mind dwells on it, the more it stokes an ember. Color starts to return to her headspace, sparks firing off. The jostle at her side, she realizes it's her arm. The pressure around her neck, it's Bengal's arms and leg. She's... being strangled. She was strangled! SHE'S STILL IN THIS!

The rush of realization comes in the middle of the drop. Her arm, at first falling limp, suddenly freezes in the air. Trembling, the fingers ball into a fist. Katsumi's eyes crack open, jaw firmed, pain written on her pixie features. The hand slams against the mat, her knees tuck beneath herself, and she suddenly pitches her body towards Bengal in an attempt to roll her up onto her shoulders with Katsumi on her back!

If successful, the startled referee will surely drop beside them to begin counting the pinfall! It's a sudden dilemma; either break the hold or take the loss!