Rumble In The Jungle - Pawfection Vs Chase Hunter

[Cosmos]

The cheetah clearly isn't concerned with whether he's being rough or not towards Faye. One ought to know what they're getting into when signing up for the sport of pro wrestling, after all. But this is downright disregarding the poodle's well being, treating her like a prop as opposed to an opponent. One to show how great Chase is. Her blinking, distressed eyes catch sight of the referee's uncertain nature. Not to mention her fellow tag partner lying on the canvas. It was evident that she couldn't rely upon either of them to intervene.

As the self-proclaimed prince adjusted his hold onto the poodle, he brings her cheek to squeeze up against those ribs of his. He might have a sleek, lithe body, but there's clearly delicate, toned muscles among his spot covered coat. His free hand tugs her arm to linger behind his neck, making sure that her white, furry body is exposed and vulnerable for whatever machinations he has planned. And then, Chase's knee rockets into her gut! With nothing to protect her, Faye feels the cheetah's knee dig deep into her belly, forcing the wind out of her!

"Krrkk!!" Her eyes widen a little. She would double over if not for her arm slung around Chase's neck. His knee flies up again, and hits a little deeper. "Ugh!!" Her eyes expand, and a small gasp of air escapes from her lips. Then she feels his knee impact her stomach for a third time, burying so hard into the poor poodle that she feels him almost threatening to crush her lungs! "Aaack!!!" Her eyes practically bulge from their sockets this time, and she can't hold back the wind that bursts from her mouth.

The normally haughty poodle is winded, breathless even, as Faye rasps for much-needed oxygen. The sounds from her are heavy, and she would be guaranteed to fall down to the canvas if Chase permitted it. Or perhaps he would keep her upright. Regardless, she's not in a good position at this moment. "N-Neither of...us..." She would pant out, the words sounding like they took an enormous amount of effort to speak. "...would entertain...going home...with...uncouth vermin...like...you..."

[CyanDimitrik]

"Must've thought I was giving you a choice," Chase chides upon hearing her. Though while he keeps the tangled position with Faye, the sensation of Miyu shuddering beneath him as he pinned her or raked his fingertips across her slender figure while prepping the piledriver is quite fresh on his mind. And that moan of hers that coincided with the three-count. Oh yes. No matter what Faye is saying now, he's confident there'll be nothing short of compliance out of at least Miyu. She's his.

Faye, though.. he may even choose to toy with her a little longer in the ring. The audience may be roaring their disapproval at his brutish treatment of the poodle, but this isn't about them. It's about him. And racking up the W's. And spitting in the eye of his haters. Probably in that order.

He slides a boot forward and spins in behind the girl, repositioning himself tight against her back. His left leg remains, hooking his thigh over hers to anchor her lower body in place. The arm that held her neck continues to do so, but now inverted - his bicep back against her throat at first. But soon, he draws it back to weave beneath her right arm, and behind her neck.

In the end, he'll hold the girl in an abdominal stretch position, though not yet leaning into it to cause pain. He wants the realization to sink in, the helplessness he predicts from her to be showcased perfectly for the audience. And as he shows off her taut form for the cameras, he sets his right hand to her bare waist, slowly petting down along the curvature of her midsection.

"Last chance to reconsider," Chase says, tilting his head to look down at her while twisting her just enough to encourage her to look back up at him. He wants to lock eyes with her before he starts really stretching her out.

[Cosmos]

Well, if they had a choice, Faye certainly wouldn't contemplate going home with this obnoxious, pampered punk. Miyu might feel differently, still lying there upon the canvas, but she's had the luxury of being pinned under the cheetah's dominant force and body. Faye has had nothing of the sort...yet. The crowd is jeering her opponent for his behaviour, but that means little when you lack the technical and physical prowess to slip away to begin with.

Chase though? He clearly has both. The way that boot slid forward and allowed him to spin behind her, aligning himself to press his chest into her back. The thigh of his left leg hooks over her own to clamp her firmly on the spot, as the arm around her neck inverts, so that his bicep curls against her throat. Then the prince shifts it to secure it underneath her right arm, directly behind her neck.

To any veteran of the ring, this is a clear - and dangerous - position. An abdominal stretch hold, but the cheetah isn't yet applying the pressure one would naturally expect from such a move. Instead, he allows the trepidation and dread in the pit of Faye's injured stomach to build. He can feel the poodle's fur bristling as her body shakes. She shakes her head, pleading. "L-Let me go...!" But as much as she squirms and struggles, she can't escape a hold of this nature.

Her foe's right hand nestles upon her bare waist, feeling the curves of her midsection. He offers her a chance to reconsider, to offer penance. She cranes her head slightly, to the side and up, just as Chase tilts his own to peer down at her. They have the same eye color, but there is a very different shade buried deep within them. Faye's are innocent, pure. The cheetah's meanwhile, are merciless. Colder than glaciers, even. Just staring into them makes the poodle feel like she might freeze in place. She doesn't offer up the surrender or yield he might be expecting, but she can't bring herself to retort or argue against his words.

All she can do is hope that she can still stand after this.

[CyanDimitrik]

It's partly the squirming and struggling that Chase is enjoying so keenly in this position. Faye's an attractive girl! He wouldn't tell her that, obviously, but it's still the case! She's trim, toned, put together nicely, and every little brush of friction between them is pleasant. Secretly, that is. And it's only magnified with her tangled up with him as she is, his body clamped in against her back corner to corner.

She gave no response. But that in itself is a kind of response; somewhere between defiance and pleading, he reckons. "I forbid you from tapping," he says. "But I permit you to scream."

Finally, he begins to sink down inch by inch, twisting to his left. And every inch of motion begins stretching her body little by little, with her waist as the fulcrum. Whatever abdominal tone the girl has beneath her fur is brought more and more to bear as the hold gradually intensifies, easing her along until he finds the point where her body gives natural resistance. Oh, it's likely been uncomfortable up until this point. But now it's going to turn painful.

His hand slides from her ribs more inwards, fingertips sifting through the short fur of her stomach, probing along the abdomen. And suddenly, he twists sharply to send a shock of straining agony shooting along her waist, locking her into place for a few seconds before easing and repeating, a little deeper this time, issuing another burst of pain across her midsection!

The referee hurriedly scrambles to their side to check on the poodle!

[Cosmos]

Faye has enough evidence by this point to assume Chase is enjoying this on a sadistic level. But she has no idea that he's appreciating her for many other reasons as he keeps her locked in place. He outlines his expectations like a royal would to a servant, or a lowly peasant. And then, he begins to pull himself to the left, twisting and stretching her body with him. The poodle gasps as she tries to resist, to will her body to fight being manhandled like this. "Aaah..." She lets loose a little moan, involuntarily. The cheetah's movements are purposefully slow, gradual. This isn't just about locking in the hold. This is about control. Using her fear against her. Making her dread the inevitable.

When Chase is no longer easily to twist her body with ease, Faye starts to yelp. "Ack!!!" The girl's abdominal region is on full show as he stretches her, further breaching the point that separated awkward and agony. His hand glides across her ribs to stroke the white fur of her belly, fingers twitching as if they were seeking some kind of hidden treasure. His claws dig in - and then, he twists without warning! "Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!" Chase is rewarded with the poodle screaming bloody murder, as if flames were streaking across her waist. He'd ease up after a few seconds, only to repeat sinking his claws in and twisting deeper into her already pained belly!

"Stop, STOP!!!" Faye is in pain, but she doesn't yield. The referee might hurry to check on her, but she isn't tapping. Her pride forbids her from tapping, even if Chase hadn't said anything. She merely tries to resist. To hang in there. To hope that this will be over sooner, rather than later.

[CyanDimitrik]

There's something intrinsically appealing about the feel of her stretched, taut stomach under his hand, Chase considers. It wouldn't be like this with other matches, naturally - there has to be a little something extra, a special little je ne sais quoi in the circumstance. In this instance, he's letting himself indulge in the full dominance over a defiant girl who happens to be athletic and terribly pretty, breaking her at his leisure, feeling her body at its extremes twisted helplessly against his. It adds just the right kind of spice to make things beyond, shall we say, clinical.

She shrieks, and he relents a couple inches, only to twist harder, wanting to hear her plea harder. "Go on, beg!," Chase hisses. "It's what dogs do, isn't it?!"

His fingers curl, clenching against her stomach to add more misery to the torture. The grip tightens, the twist sustained for several seconds, wanting to bring her right to the edge - but he suddenly releases her body in one single withdraw, hoping to relinquish her in enough time to avoid a full submission.

And the referee immediately drops to make sure Faye is capable of going on...

[Cosmos]

Normally, one would expect a dog to have a feline dead to rights. But this feels like a complete mismatch, in part due to the circumstances separating the two wrestlers. Chase may be young, but he's a veteran of the ring with talent and skill, even if he misuses those traits. Faye is a completely rookie, a fish caught in the rough waves of what is the wrestling ring. Which clearly reflects in the current scene, as the prince keeps her stretched at breaking point. Even as she screams, his mercy is only held for the briefest of seconds - and then he's back to twisting his claws into her belly harder, as if driven by her screams to do more to her.

"Please...please stop..." Her screams had intensified, filling the entire arena, right up to the skylights. Now she was capable of little more than a pathetic whimper, which became pitiful sobs as his fingers clenched against her stomach. He keeps that iron claw of his buried deep into her gut, twisting ruthlessly. She feels herself unable to take much more...and as if sensing this, the cheetah abruptly drops her. The poodle drops into an undignified heap at his feet.

The referee is straight down at her side to check on her. Faye is curled up in a fetal position, her body drawing inward like a ball, or a protective shell of some kind. Tears are lingering from her eyes, which are clamped shut in pain. Her body trembles with exhaustion and pain, and even her tail is lifeless. Her hands cover her belly, as if nursing the burning sensation that still tore through it. Really, she's in no condition to continue. She makes no attempt to get back up, and the referee seems close to calling the second match...or point, rather, for Chase...

[CyanDimitrik]

The more bloodthirsty in the audience are thrilled at the spectacle, while Chase takes a second to raise his arms and smirk for the crowd. It's mostly booing. He's clearly going too hard on the girl. He went too hard on Miyu, too, but at a certain point, enough is enough!

His attention turns to the poodle curled up on the mat and the referee looking ready to call it. But the cheetah swoops in low, grabbing her by the fine headfur to pull her up to her knees. "Not done with'er," he snaps at the referee. "She's fine, just being dramatic! Isn't that right?" His free hand sets beneath her chin to manually help nod her head.

"Now, get up!" Chase pulls her up the rest of the way to her boots and turns, promptly shoving the girl back into the nearby corner. Expecting her to either rest propped against the post or her arms to catch over the top ropes at either side, he hurries to the opposite corner. And in a flash, he's racing across the ring towards her, body angled forward, skipping over Miyu's fallen form, only to lunge himself at Faye's figure in a body avalanche, aiming to splash chest and stomach-first against the girl and crush her between his hard physique and the unyielding turnbuckle.

[Cosmos]

As the cheetah takes a moment to showboat to the audience with a grandiose gesture of his arms, Faye remains shaking at his feet. Her tag partner is a few feet away, still unconscious. In a way, she's lucky compared to the poodle. The worst is over for that feline.

Chase's shadow looms over her, like a constant reminder of his presence. The referee is about to save her from a further onslaught, but the prince is quick to intervene. He snatches a clump of her white headfur and yanks the poodle forcefully onto her knees, snapping at the referee that there's still much to be done. To complete the humiliating scene, his free hand prods her chin to make the girl's head flop up and down, as if nodding. The jeers of the crowd intensify, and the referee is also scowling. Chase isn't fooling anyone with his act. But the bloodthirsty, ravenous members of the audience are eager for more.

The prince brings the exhausted and dazed mutt onto feet which are clearly unsteady. It's a trivial matter for the cheetah to push her back into the nearest corner, where her arms slump over the top rope to keep her propped up. Chase is hurrying to the adjacent corner, but honestly, he doesn't need to. He could saunter casually over at his own leisure, and Faye would still be a sitting target. Well, maybe not sitting. Standing, rather. With the help of the ropes. But a target all the same.

True to his species, Chase is suddenly sprinting right towards her. He leaps over her tag partner's body, flying through the air. The poodle's weary head peers up to catch sight of her opponent, his slender body eclipsing the skylights above. She barely has time to register the sight before...BAM! Chase's chest and stomach slam into the poodle with the full force of a train, squashing her between the merciless metal of the corner and his sleek, toned physique. "OOOOGH!!!" The impact is enough to jolt the poodle awake with wide eyes, her limbs and weakened body rocked as Chase makes sure to give her as little room between the corner and himself as possible.

[CyanDimitrik]

The impact is an exquisite burst of force and pressure, feeling the give of Faye's body against the rigidity of his own. And when his boots hit mat again, he remains leaning into her, pressed tight to her figure. His hands set over her shoulders and trail down to her upper-arms, resting a moment, feeling the girl crushed against him. Between his bare chest and her thinly-covered breast, he can feel her heart beating against him - a sensation that acutely reminds him of pinning Miyu.

Peeling his body from hers, Chase sets his hand to her chin to bobble her head condescendingly before giving her cheek a snappy slap! Nothing but disrespect! And while she processes the sensation of having been smacked, Chase dips in low and aims a quick jab of a punch for her exposed stomach. He's careful to not go too hard on her core and risk injuring her! But just a quick, firm something to play on the weakness he's been working on with her, to keep her nice and compliant.

Hands move beneath her thighs next, pulling the poodle up to sit her on the top pad. Then, grabbing the ropes, he climbs the turnbuckle to stand before her, his hips against her face as he perches. Left hand grips her by the headfur again, right fist raising into the air to signal to the audience that something particularly rough is coming, before pulling on her arm and head to stand her up with him...