We're Doing What Now? - Domino vs. Arlise Christiaens (Apartment PoW Match)

[CyanDimitrik]

Oh, to her credit, Domino noticed the curve of her chest. Lise is a ridiculously attractive girl, and nearly everything she does seems to be emphasizing the fact. It's to the point where the model suspects that she may have had some training in that direction, herself. That level of body awareness doesn't come natural to most people, and were he not a model of several years, he may have been caught completely off guard by it.

That's not to say she isn't doing everything just right. He certainly appreciates what she's brought to the ring. And the idea of keeping her after the proverbial bell has rung just makes him want to fight harder.

She descends over his knee and her body arches back. The pain of the hold is clearly written in the tension of her body and the sounds she makes. Her stomach is pushed out first and foremost, showing off what muscletone the female has quite nicely. Domino's a midriff-guy; his gaze lingers on her beautifully-bare, taut waist.

The referee-girl leans in towards Lise's head. "Do you submit?"

Domino smiles a little to himself as he leans more into the hold. He really doubts Arlise is that fragile. And if she does submit, they've only just started their time together. Win-win. But for what it's worth, he's far from satisfied with the idea of the match ending in a single move. And yet, he tries to intensify the position, his frame flexing over her, the smooth muscle of his arms and shoulders tensing as he puts more force into the submission. His fingers splay more against her chest, barely grazing the skin of her breasts with his left hand and the right squeezing her bare thigh tighter.

Fortunately, that pressure doesn't last! He transitions it by moving his right hand off her leg and to her unprotected belly, palm pressing flat to her skin and fingers digging into her abs in a stomach claw! At the end, her stomach was just too tempting a target.

[Winter]

In an unfamiliar hold and predicament, suffering from the forced contortion of her body, Lise let out an uncharacteristic, continued series of moans as she tried to overcome her surprise and get herself out of the miserable position. However, with the hold as disorienting as it was painful, giving her an upside-down view of the room as the blood rushed to her head and gravity seemed to leave all but the middle of her back, Lise's reactions did not grow beyond trying to find the top of the mattress with her toes, which she only barely managed from how he pushed down on her thigh.

Her distress written on her face, she blinked at the oncoming ref who had the audacity to ask her if she wanted to submit. With her stomach still bent over Domino's knee, Lise's response came more from the quick shake of her head rather than the sound she made. "Nuh! Nn-"

She balled up her fists as a brace for herself as she plotted again how to get out of his hands and off of his knee, while her chest and hips started to become very heavy for her midriff. Hating the feeling of being stretched onto desperate display so early in the match, she gathered her will, came up with her plan to crunch her abs and bend forward...

She tensed them just as his powerful hand left her thigh and went to her stomach. Then, they clamped down, grabbing a handful of taut muscle and softer flesh around her midriff.

"AAAAAH!" The redhead let loose another uncharacteristic scream in spite of herself, assaulted by another unfamiliar hold, and as her legs went to dangling again, she froze from the shock once more, almost too fearful that if she moved his painful grip on her stomach would not be loosened, only made worse.

[CyanDimitrik]

Domino can't see the wheels working in her mind. The eyes are the window to the soul, and her eyes are upside-down and pointing in the wrong direction. But what he can see is the tension running through her frame, her muscles tensing and tightening, particularly around her flat, toned stomach. And it's those flexing ab-muscles that he targets with his gripping fingers.

The feel of her body under his palm is as appealing as he expected it would be - the first touch to her body in an otherwise socially-unacceptable area is a little electrical. The abs he's caught in the squeeze are just as enticing. Domino appreciates a girl who takes care of her body, and abs add a little something special to the mix.

The cry she gives is musical in this context. Domino doesn't get off to the sound of pain, but rather the knowledge that he's dominating a girl. It's a newer-found quirk, and there are few better indicators than a pained cry in the ring. Or bed, as it were! To make matters worse, Arlise has found herself in a catch-22 of sorts. With her legs dangling, Domino continues to wrench on her stomach, squeezing and digging in in pulses, peppered with moments of easing up just to give her belly a chance to relax, only to find better purchase into her abs. But every time her stomach flexes, his fingers tighten again, enticed by the feel of her abdominal muscles underhand!

"Do you submit?," repeats the referee-girl.

Domino leans in a little, the elbow of his clawing hand setting over her thigh, while his other hand presses in harder to her chest in the hopes of keeping her steady!

[Winter]

Suspended and tortured on both sides of her midriff, Lise's concessions to her pain came in the form of powerless writhing of her feet and hips to go along with breathy moans when his grip on one part of her stomach lingered, and when he switched to another ab, his fingers biting down in a fresh, tender spot, a cry left her lips, her eyes squinted shut, and her buxom frame jerked and seized, trying to lean forward to relieve the torture but unable to do so.

Despite her misery, the ref girl, still determined to stare into her pained and embarrassed face, received another whining "No! ...ungh..."

Her hands looked to join her feet, trying to find anything she could grasp that might give her an ounce of leverage, but they continued to brush over the edge of the mattress, and the redhead's desperation ignited into a fever pitch. His hand bit down again, and she wailed and flailed...

...and her hand grasped the edge of the cover. Holding onto it for dear life, Lise withstood the clawing for another moment before she flexed every muscle from shoulder to hand, yanked, and wrenched herself to the side, merely trying to roll herself into him and get off of her back.

[CyanDimitrik]

Domino seems content to work the redhead's abs until she finally succumbs and gives her submission. If it's going to happen this fast, this easy, all the more time for him to get to.. well, whatever it is they'll do once the proverbial bell rings. And every passing second he gets to clench, squeeze, and jab his fingers into her stomach to grip and twist her bare abs, the more likely it seems to happen.

The referee-girl leans in a little closer, ready to ask again if Lise is having second thoughts! But before she can vocalize beyond, "Do you-," tthe redhead has changed things up!

The cover is suddenly yanked up and Arlise rolls into Domino, taking him by surprise! In a tangle of limbs and blankets, their nearly bare forms are mashed together and semi-cocooned into the sheet! Domino's arms instinctively loop around her beneath the sheet, holding her by the waist as she lies atop him, holding her breasts to his chest, that abused, flat belly against his own six-packed abs, his hips and its less-than-subtle physical reaction to being in sensually-torturous contact with her body now pressed to her hips, and nearly face to face.

He stares up at her, amethyst eyes wide. Softly panted breaths wash up against her lips, too stunned to try to buck her off, too reeling from the sudden abundance of body contact and the feel of her curves to even want to just yet.

[Winter]

Lise sighed a sweet release as the painful bend of her back and the biting grip on her stomach came to an end all at once. The sigh blossomed into faint sounds of surprise as the two of them became a shifting tangle that crashed and wound into part of the sheets she had upturned, with her fist still around one of the sides, and though their tumble was a mess of uncertainty, warm skin, and appendages...

...the redhead emerged on top, staring down at the man beneath her, who she could tell she had splayed and stunned. Another sigh of relief (now intermixed with pleasant surprise) left her lips, and she tried to force herself to get moving rather than holding her aching back or tortured abs.

She partially failed, groaning and letting one hand slip to her bare back, almost pressing against his arm, as action reminded her of what she had only just escaped from. However, she pushed past it as her body tilted up, hips slipped forward over his muscular stomach and chest, and slid forward with hopes to tuck her pelvis against his chin, thighs framing either side of his face, in a tight schoolgirl pin.

A damp, tight schoolgirl pin, a reaction that she had failed to notice spring from her predicament moments before.

[CyanDimitrik]

"Ww-uh.. wuh-..," fumbles the referee-girl as she attempts to make sense of what she's looking at. Is this a pin? Did things just take a totally different turn? The camera is certainly zooming in on the two fighters, taking special care to highlight their points of contact, the looks on their faces, every breathy sound the two make...

There's no shortage of the latter. Every shift, every adjustment, every little thing that Lise does while pressed against him elicits a subtle, but audible response from the model beneath her. His eyes remain wide, frozen like a deer in headlights, lips parted to accommodate his heightened breaths. As she slides up over him, scooting her hips in a way he believes has to be deliberate, his gaze finally breaks from her face to glance downwards. It's only a glance. A glance is all he's afforded before her hips tuck beneath his chin. Her warmly damp hips, he realizes in short order.

Was that from their proximity just now? He couldn't blame her. It felt exquisite, being that close to her. It's the sort of thing that makes him want to put the match on hold for a moment. Or was it the submission he was putting her through earlier? He enjoyed that, himself, no question about it. But did she? Did she secretly enjoy the torture to her back and belly? It'll be something to figure out after he's-

"One!"

-she's pinned him.

"Two!" The referee-girl at least recognizes this as a pin.

Oh crap!

Domino's body suddenly, violently bucks, twisting at the shoulder to force an unbalancing upset just before the referee-girl can declare the three! Even after he's been spared the defeat, he lies on his side in a daze, mind racing to catch up with this turn of events. His eyes rest on the bed for several seconds before lifting to look directly at Lise.

[Winter]

Lise did not expect a great deal from her pin. A moment for her to breathe, which she accepted as her palm ran over her own, straightened stomach, glad it had found relief. A chance to keep him from unleashing another tricky, sudden move. A chance to put at least some pressure on his neck and jaw, even if she did not try to crush away anything but his ability to move his shoulders. The pin was merely a circumstance.

However, as it reached a two-count for the heavily-breathing redhead, whose ravaged abs rose and fell in her line of vision as she stared down into his apparently-stunned face, Lise thought she might...have him. Suddenly and unexpectedly. It took her a beat to react after she heard the ref starting to form the two-count, since she was so confused herself, but as she did, Lise leaned forward to try and prop on her hand and gain more leverage...

In sync, he bucked, and her leaning sent her skittering just barely off of his opposite shoulder, sliding onto her thigh onto the upturned sheets covering the mattress. A hand on the edge kept her from teetering off into the ref's hips, and Lise was left to process the opportunity she had just missed.

Then again...it was cause for encouragement. Perhaps she did have him under a spell.

As her gray eyes tilted down to meet his with that in mind, she was in motion again, trying to swing her legs, still tucked near his shoulders, out and around whatever she could nab between them, head, neck, or arm.

[CyanDimitrik]

Domino has a lot to process here and now. First, he has to be careful about excessive contact with her. It has a sort of intoxicating effect, which may not entirely be Arlise's fault. He spent a fair amount of time with his hands on her body already; notions were bound to start knocking around his head. And perhaps unfortunately for the redhead, her body seems to've betrayed her own thoughts and instincts. And that was the second thing he had to focus on. In a way, it lends to some reassurance that the end of the match isn't going to be bad, no matter how it goes.

All of this highlights just how strange this match is; how loaded. He tries to read her expression, but he's getting nothing out of it. She's like a sphinx in a bikini top. What's he supposed to do with that? Well, besides fight. That's still the crux of things, right? She certainly seems to think so, as she's immediately snatching at his nearby arm with her legs. And the moment she does, he's reintroduced to the dampness of her excitement. But it also spurs him to act.

"No ya don't!," he protests immediately, attempting to take a turn curling in her direction. If he can manage, he'll stack the girl's legs against herself to put their combined weight to a focus over her shoulders, even with her still capturing his arm. With too much squirming, however, they might wind up spilled down to the floor!

[Winter]

There was too much slipping and shifting on the bedsheets for Lise to truly nab what she wanted between her killer legs, his head, but settling from the arm wasn't so bad either, in such a tiny space as they tumbled across. Thighs clamped, her fingers dug in at his wrist, and she got her ankles half-crossed-

But he had gained leverage. While her body poised to thrust him down and lock in whatever variation on an armbar she could apply, his more rangy frame managed to lift her hips, push her legs back, and leave her looking at her own booty shorts rather than slamming him down into her own hold. Her red hair hung off the side of the bed, but she didn't panic, even with the threat of a backward tumble onto her head looming.

Instead, using her own more compact frame and core strength, she powered her way back up with a growl, trying to explode out of the cannonball shape he had forced upon her to throw him back down onto his stomach or shoulders and resume her application of the armbar between legs still latched to his bicep.