Match Stipulations: The first opponent to force their opponent to orgasm, wins. No count-outs, no disqualifications.
Usually, Yo-Yo would come out second, with a few bars ready to go for her opponent.
Usually, her cousin, Aaliyah, would've been nearby for backup. Not that she needed it, but, you know, it didn't hurt.
Usually, she wouldn't have been dressed up like a goddamn stripper.
Fuck it. Today was an unusual day.
Of course, Yo-Yo knew why she was in this particular position. Management was always looking for new talent to debut, and they liked to have the fresh blood come on second, which made for a better show. Her cousin had said she would come out to help her…for regular matches. This was hentai, and the last thing either wanted was for their family to be at ringside while they got down and dirty with a newcomer. They'd put her in this match as a sort of punishment since she'd done a little cheating against an asshole in her last match. It was a kind of demotion, a way to chip away at her cred by making her do a silly little strip match.
It all made perfect, logical sense, which made it suck even more, and she was going to make damn sure the world knew about it.
Her started up as usual, and she came out with a microphone, ready to freestyle. She breathed deep, let the music flow through her, opened her mouth wide, and-
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
Yo-Yo jumped as the audience hit her with a cacophonous cry, drowning her out with their din. She looked out at them, wide-eyed, as she tried to figure out where the heat was coming from. Yeah, she’d pissed them off a bit with the Blaise Cameron match, but were they still mad about that? ”Hey! Shut the hell up, I’m trying to-”
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
She sneered out at the crowd and stepped back in a huff, doing her best to ignore them, but fuck - they were loud. She could barely hear herself think as their persistent hum worked its way into her eardrums with trembling force. Even still, she took a deeper breath and tried to blow. ”Hey yo, it’s Queen Geedorah, take me-”[color]
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
Yo-Yo wasn’t even able to complete a verse before the crowd’s moaing grew louder and interrupted her again, throwing her off. She couldn't hear the beat, couldn't think up a verse couldn't even find her rhythm. ”fuck it.”
Yo-Yo threw the microphone behind her, which got an uproarious cheer, and stormed down the ramp towards the ring, throwing middle fingers up the whole way. In a way, this was a good thing - she was pissed as hell now, and fucking up some dumb little debutee would be the perfect way to work off some steam and show these fuckers that she was the real deal. No holding back, no mercy. They wanted her to be the bad guy? She’d be the bad guy.
More than eager to get this started, she slid in under the ring, shoved her way past the referee, threw her jacket to the outside, and took up her spot in the corner, fuming every step of the way. She leaned up against the pads as her music faded and focused on the entrance ramp, curious to see who her victim would be.