Career vs Ownership - All Steel Match - Killer King vs Karla "Ray" Reinhardt

[KillerV]

King grunting with each pulls of her trapped arm twisting her lovely latex body as he could hear abit of tearing, but her screams were even louder that overlaps everything, the big bad beast still all tired, sore, bloody throughout the whole match, he felt way better at this moment for putting Karla through Hell once again. "GRRRRRRR!" He kept on stretching her out more and more, adding more weights to keeping her down as he watches the referee to see if she would give up, but clearly the redhead bitch isnt going to admit defeat, that just makes him straining her even harder! "Not going to give up huh? Maybe I can come up... with something more... fun!"

The beast got an idea what the move he wanted to put Karla in and he thinks it would be so humiliating, so painful, he can only hold it for few minutes he thinks... releasing the hold just so he can grab her reddish hair to grip on, yank it back as he make her look at him, blood dripping out of his mask as he lightly growls at her, showing that he is still pissed off, and tired, but either way, he got what he wanted to do with her. Tries to pull Karla head back and get it tucked under his muscular arm so he locked in the standing Dragon Sleeper hold, wrenching on her neck and tighten his strong sweaty arm, looking over to see her fine chest but for now, he want to really kick her ass!

"Grrrr! Get down... on your knees!" He demanded Karla as he slowly squatting down to lowering his opponent as he could bring her to the knees, when he can manage to do that, King would make it easier on himself and not for Karla, grabbing at her ankles before lifting her up, rolling the barely latex bodysuit woman up on his shoulder as he stood up, pulling down the ankles to bend her backward in his finisher, but in inverted version of the Muscle Buster! Just to let her feel the spine and neck bending, throat crushing before he goes for a hop and drop, sitting out to impact her on the shoulder to signal the slam, jarring on the shoulder and letting go of the woman. "HURGH!"

Panting hard when he pulls it off as he sit there, not yet pinning the red head right away but the beast eventually turn over to her body tries to get his weary opponent over facing up so his arm draping over her chest, his hand over her face, weakly pinning her down as he can, unsure if he is going to beat her or not, only the last count would tell him.

"ONE!....................TWO!......................"

[Monsy]

She could’ve grown a few inches by now. Perhaps a mangled spring of a woman, decorated in dislocated bones, ripped muscles, bruises that spread wider than bowelling balls and splashed by red paint. He released the hold before that, though; her body whipped forward, fell onto a knee, only to rise again when he tugged her hair. Another rip across her scalp. She lumbered onto her feet, her neck noosed beneath his arm; back, arched, legs curved as her arms dangled like forest vines. There wasn’t a yelp that could escape. An arm shut her windpipe. Blood to her brain dammed, and her eyes were beginning to roll back. A warm feeling sets in, her legs, jelly, were easy to bring down, and her knuckles swept the canvas. She groaned as he pulled her ankles. Her stomach sagged as her spine curved, the blood flooded her brain - but she could breathe, so she swallowed gallons of oxygen. The redness in her face reached its zenith then, sweat-licked and rife with gaping blood-shot eyes. She screamed, if not for her spine, then her throat, collar and thighs that ripped and clambered all together when he dropped. It felt as though her body shrank like an accordion; her waist whipped forward, crescent-shaped, then back. She rolled off him, and her front spanked the canvas hip-first, then the rest in one quiet descent, face-down. Her cheek smothered the metal sheets, eyes closed, and her arms sprawled above her head. Turning her over was easy. One shoulder flipped, that arm followed, splayed, half-folded above her head. A slow rise and fall motioned in her chest, and suit rips lathered her stomach, her hips too, legs and arms. His arm pinned her down. The referee joined and counted it. One came easy. At two; her arm twitched; those fingers curled into a clenched fist and swung across her chest. The momentum raised her shoulder, so she’d survive another minute.

[KillerV]

King putting the sexy bitch woman Karla up on his shoulder in his alternative finisher where her body is folded, backward, and get slammed down before dropping the redhead onto the mat as he pinning her with his hand over the body. It felt more and more tired, it was a lot of work just to have her up if he werent too worn out, but at the least he got her now, and just waiting for the stupid referee to finish counting down and end this match, with him being the victory of the match!

It was a very, very slow count, he didnt look to see the count, just hearing the referee making the counts, it was getting closer and closer, after the two counts.... the referee didnt hit the three count signal, he felt his hand slides off her body and it would seem she kicked out! **Damnit KARLA!!** he thought angrily. Huff and puff, he slowly struggling to get back on his feet as he breathing heavily, looking at her for a moment, then the referee before looking around see if he can find something to really finish her off for good....

The bloody beast decide to get some of the steel chairs stacking in a pile, then turning to get the ladder to open up and place it beside the pile, he got a plan- take Karla up with him and take her down from high above and down onto the pile to make a huge impact. Should be enough to end the woman once and for all, then claim Karla for himself.

Once he got it setup, he slowly turn to the redhead as he reaches for the hair, use it to drag Karla with him to the tall ladder, trying to bring her with him as he slowly going one side and he tries to get her to the other, taking some time to get up in each steps, one by one, groaning that he felt tired though, but he wanted to get up as high as possible, near the top at the least, he knows that once he takes her to a huge plunge, it would be over. "Huff... you... you ready to lose? Huff..... cant wait.... to own your body...! Huff... huff...!"

[Monsy]

Her arm might as well be three hundred pounds, and she’s never lifted that much. That same limb folded across her chest, piled on the other as she lay on her side. She took a deep breath through the sweat. All the heat her body was in, the strain and mountainous pain, it felt cold; death and loving competition. Though she may be a stumbling corpse as her hair was pulled and the puppet gouged her pain tolerance to buckle her legs beneath her body, lift those shivering hips and take the ladder with soft paws that fingered any grip it can muster. Her eyes were closed as she took that first step - if only to appease his torque on her scalp. Every climb after, her vision returned. A murky swamp became a puddle of clear water, and she could hear the crowd like a terrible murder of belching crows. She gripped the ladder with more conviction, rattled out a stronger breath then took the last step on her own. They could come face-to-face there. Stare each other’s eyes, should they wish. Karla, through the bloodied, bruised, and hair-needled state, smiled with lipstick-smothered brims. An idea had manifested. One that started when she reached to grab his masked face and slam it against the ladder’s tip. That grip remained, so she may take another step on that ladder and loom. “And I can’t wait to take your mask, Hundchen.”

She leaped, that grip as the fulcrum that she twisted on. Her legs shot up into the air and fell behind his back on the side of the chairs to complete the revolution. King would find his neck hooked from in front, dragged down, and the crown of his skull torqued back to plant him upon the castle of chairs. The Tornado Blackout! The very same that won their second match. Her back would sing onto the steel fortress as well, crush whatever muscle that was left in her back, perhaps her whole body, and return her gaze into a sea of black as those eyes rolled back, and she left with a cry. Though, that hand stuck across his throat, enough to count a pin, so the referee joined them, raised their hand and smacked the steel mats to end this war.

“ONE!”

[KillerV]

King can sense this match near to the end while he pulling up the bitch redhead Karla up to the ladder with him, this should be enough to completely and utterly destroy her, then once he win, he can savoring his victory over that fine bloody woman all for himself, but his focus now need to bring this bitch much higher on the ladder and then.... his finisher, that'll it for the rival, Karla Reinhardt.

His powerful grip on the reddest hair to pull the latex bodysuit woman and getting closer and closer to the top, he can see the pile of steel chairs just waiting for Karla to be used for a landing mat and slamming her on the mat, just as he is about to put her in a hold of his choice, but then while he was distracted, yet tired from all the bloody battles they had, he felt his mask getting a gripped on as he couldnt react and get his face slammed onto the ladder tip and only sound that King makes is the head hitting the metal and the groans coming out of the mask.

Then things went too fast, he couldnt lock his eyes on the prize as Karla did something to pull the beast off the ladder with his head tucked in, the momentum spun the large muscular man and the wind blown underneath him, then just nearly seconds and his head, follow by his whole body, slammed onto the pile of steel chairs making all sorts of sound, clattering and bashing, metal ring and cage shaking on impacts while the crowd goes crazy to see such amazing landing done by Karla.

King laying there still on the chairs, barely moving, he groans until Karla managed to pin him somehow, he doesnt know how as the move she did to him really put him to sleep, his muscular limps twitching from the pain and the referee comes by and start the count down, already hitting the first count...... then shortly after.......

"TWO!"

The beast still isnt moving... he doesnt know whats going on around him, just felt the cold of the steel chairs resting against his back, and his bare body covered in sweats and bloods, breathing heavily underneath his soaked beastly mask. But the monster still conscious after two count slapped the metal sheets, his body reacts as he turn over to lift a shoulder, groaning to break a small pin.

[Monsy]

Tornado Blackout… That’s what ended it last time.
Her limousine was a far better landing pad than this. Vile steel, stacked and battered. The edges bumped like miniature knives that could bludgeon the spinal discs, carve between the muscles and spike her organs against the tissue, and bruise it from the inside. She felt queasy, head-to-toe, dull and aching. The lift of her arm felt like twine attached to her elbow, wrapped around a hundred-pound weight. She got it over his chest, heaved out, and the count did one… the count did two… But she heard no bell.

Her head perked up, looked to the referee, and her eyes popped. There weren’t any words beyond a pant. A heated dog that looked off into the distance, her arm retracted, and she threw herself out of the pile, onto more cold metal, where she pushed onto her hands and knees, then one by one, sat on her legs. Her hands piled into her lap, chin dipped against her collar, a trickle of blood dripped into her latex palms. Velvet hair curtained her view, and she huffed again; this time, her lips bit into each other, and she combed her hair back. Those eyes still gaped, intense, almost barbaric. “JUST GIVE UP!” She yelled, then struck the mat, hammer-fist style. Her second fist also pounded the canvas, then, those knees lifted, exchanged for the tip of her feet as she scooted them forward, beneath her hips where she mounted both feet, slid back into the chain-ropes and glowered some more.

“Give up… Give up.” It sputtered into a murmur, her eyes dipped up towards the ceiling, and her footing careened to the left, stumbled as her shoulders tried to outrun the rest, then slammed against the turnbuckle pad. She winced, turned to face it, looked up again, then nodded. A hand reached out to claw her way onto the cage, her knees then mounted the pad. Both feet planted one after the other, and she sunk her second hand into the cage, so tight that it hurt, and a heel also dug its way into a slot. Thus began her climb.

Her knees nigh-imploded on each push. Her fingers grew numb, forced to tow more weight, stretch and hook the next bracket. Pull, reach, pull. Might as well be two limbs short. She eventually grabbed the lip of the cage, large horizontal beams, side-by-side, enough to throw her leg over, hips, then her chest ballooned on the top. “Guh…” Her breath was hoarse, but she sat up, seated on the top, looking left towards the crowd, then right, towards King. Both hands piled on the beams and her knees tucked behind them. A leg flexed, foot pressed just ahead of the two hands and a hand stacked on that knee to push. She hobbled, her shoulders dipped both ways, counter-balanced by extended arms. Her second foot joined the push, and there she stood, where the ground seemed to grow further away by the second, the puppy-sized people and the steel chairs like a stygian pool of cockroaches.

“Give up!” She yelled one last time, the venom in her words embellished by bared teeth, wide, crazy eyes and that laboured breath that bobbed her shoulders. That look now faced the crowd, gazed down, centred to catch the stare of one fan…

She blew a kiss with her leather palm, transformed into a middle finger, then bent her knees and exploded into the air. Her back arched; arms stretched overhead; red hair danced like a flame as her feet dipped to the lights and rolled over into the flip. The wind caught her backside, then front as she fell, within seconds, right onto his chest for the finished moonsault. “NNGAAH!”

The canvas would sing like a symbol’s crash, and her body would bounce almost three feet before falling again. It was thought her body could burst, like something imploded from the inside, shooting everything, organs, bone, muscle to the roof of her skin. Only one eye was kept open, and her breath was shallow. She heard nothing snap but felt broken; her body sprawled over its target, and the crowd roared as the referee dipped down and started a count…

[KillerV]

King skull is throbbing like drinking after several strong whiskey, beer, whatever he can get his hands only to get drunk then takes all the glass bottles to shatter over his head, thats what he feels like right now, utter shit! He couldnt believe he went all the way from the top of the ladder and comes down by her nasty move to drives his head onto the pile of chairs that he wanted HER to go through not him. Now, the reality hits literally, the big bad beast laying over the steel chairs with Karla pinning him over weakly but the monster still able to somehow to kick out the pinfall, he isnt done yet, his mind is.

He felt a bit free after Karla got off him, but he couldnt move at all, he is just laying over the chairs breathing a bit heavily, his eyes is closed yet his mask of the jaguar always stay open, can never tell from the expression of the monster. But he can barely hear her upsetting over the fact he kicked out her deadly move that could of destroyed him, the move that ended the match before but strangely he kicked out, so surely she have to think of something to really finish him off, as for King, he wishes to regain his strength and tries to kick her ass! But sadly not right now.

He isnt sure whats going on outside his mask as he could see whats going on when he open to see through the mask eyes, but he slowly gather his strength to get his elbows up against the pile of steel chairs, barely sitting up with his feet on the mat too, King is growing far weak and he lookg around to see where that bitch Karla is, then he could see the chain jangling and his eyes tracing it until he see her on the top turnbuckle and flipping backward coming down at the monster! King should roll out of the way but his body cant respond, his body wouldnt move, and now... he takes a heavy impact of her sexy body in a tight bodysuit landing on top of him. "UGH!" Metals clattering, his body fully laying down groaning before he felt her laying on top, pinning the beast again and the referee start the count.

"ONE!.................TWO!................" King didnt respond to anything, he weakly breathing, body twitching, he cannot do anything about this damn humiliating pin!

[Monsy]

She sprawled over his chest like a puppet without its strings.

A twitch shocked her fingers, and heavy-slow breaths came with closed eyes. The pin was everything now - only by luck did she remain in her station, to take what she owned and rob this man of his entire career. It ended now, with that final slap on the canvas. “THREE!” And the bell rung. Everything was over. He was over. Yet, there wasn’t anything in her to laugh. Rocks filled her lungs. Face a rag of dried blood. Her body was a bruised pincushion. Nothing felt worse than her neck, her ribs not far behind after that fall. Both felt like they loved to strangle her, but she didn’t die.

She rolled above his head onto her back; her body spread eagle, eyes empty as she stared at the lights. It glittered, glared like polygons that forced her squint. Her forearm came to wipe both eyes, and she turned on her side, propped up by an elbow. The crowd roared. It was a strange phenomenon to sit there with a half-dead body, aches like being eaten alive, to do that and finally know what approval felt like, a drug that gave her an instant high. She combed back her hair, then reached to grab a fistful of his mask, then pried once, climbing to her knees, prying twice, putting a foot down and another, and yanked one more time with shaky legs. She ripped the mask into her chest, fell on her rear, then used the chain-ropes to climb back to her feet and rest her back. The referee came to raise her hand, and for once, she allowed it, if not the strength, to protest. Her eyes looked hollow. “Killer King…” She said, limping forward to take one last gander at this man… “Your livelihood is now mine.”

Then turned around and made for the door…

She threw herself between the top and middle chains, crashed on the apron, then out to ringside. Attendants came to her aid, hooked her arms and pulled her up. She was whimpering and tormented by shudders. Her muscles all seized; the range of motion felt like millimetres. Together they helped her walk, sometimes carrying her up the ramp. Yet as they marched, she dismissed one with a wave… “Let go.” She said with a laboured breath, then when she reached the stage, the other attendant let her go. A stretcher was not far behind as she stood, narrow, looking at the ring. Her teeth clenched, and the paramedics readied for her to collapse. Instead, she hoisted his mask above her head. For all to see. The crowd cheered once again, and she hissed from the pain and limped backstage. How far she made it is anyone’s guess…

Winner by Pinfall: Karla "Ray" Reinhardt