Victory via: pinfall or submission Rules: best 2 out of 3 wins Special rules: PoW - the winner takes the loser home! Spoiler
The audience's cluttered chatter quites down, as the first party of the match arrives. As the arena lights flash in warm and bright shades of red and orange, the sound of fiery music hits, and Sierra enters the stage. A wide grin appears on her face as she jogs in place, hopping side to side with endless energy, barely able to contain her excitement. She throws up her arms and lets out a loud, “¡Vamosss!” before sprinting full speed down the ramp. As she gets close to the ring, instead of sliding down the ropes, she jumps on a corner post, sticks out her hands like a cat and, seemingly pretending to be a lion, she lets out a play pretend roar.
"GRRAAAHH! ROAAR!"
The audience is confused, but some seem to laugh at her. It's pretty perplexing why she would do a lion, since her chosen wreslting name, La Diablesa, means a devil, not a lion, or any other animal for that matter. And lions are an african animal, not a spanish one. It is completely inexplicable why this is what she went for.
"Bwwaaah, hello everybody, it's me, Sierra!"
She yells on top of her lungs, making sure absolutely everyone around hears her, even the janitors sweeping the backstage corridors.
"And as you all know...!" she says, then suddenly shifting to a cartoonishly serious and low voice, like a child parodying an adult
"I come here to claim my revenge!"
And as she finishes her sentence, she twists her body to the side, and points her finger at the door from which her opponent, Blaise Cameron, is supposed to come out. Within a few seconds of her frozen in place, her legs start wobbling a little bit, as she looks around for any clues on whether her enemy is coming soon.
Last edited by reini on Tue Feb 25, 2025 7:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Blaise has noooo idea who this chica is. Never heard of her, never seen her, nada! But he had no intention of letting that detail get in the way of his job. If he wants to push all the way to the top, it didn't matter who they put in the ring with him. He'd have to beat them. Man, woman, whatever! But Blaise... just did not expect the level of goofiness on display in the ring.
From the gorilla position, his head tilts inquisitively at the monitor. This girl, she is just... the cutest thing. Does she give off airhead vibes? Most definitely. Does that do anything to diminish that appeal, though? Not at all! In fact, it kind of boosts it. There's a girl who doesn't take herself too seriously; one who knows she's there to entertain, if not be entertained. Heck, it makes him reminiscent of his pre-Phoenix days.
There's a soft sigh. He's gonna beat'er up and all, but dang if he won't look forward to the mandatory time together after the fact. Unless she winds up a complete troglodyte after first impressions. ..But surely she wouldn't. Right?
The lights dim down in the arena, a hush falling over the crowd. Then, the first telltale chords of an electric guitar fill the stadium. Anyone with a solid grasp of classic Americana already knows the song by those two hard, electric crunches alone. It's My Life - Bon Jovi
The titantron comes alive, first with a sizzle reel showing the latest, greatest hits of recent highlights. Then, his name and epithet in burning letters.
When the lyrics begin, Blaise steps out into the open, immediately awash in a comparative wave of praise and cheer. It's a stark contrast from his early career, and he bathes in it. Arms raised to either side, head tipped back and radiant smile worn, his sleekly chiseled body is left almost completely on display save for his own flame-styled trunks, boots, and pads. Gouts of flame surge into the air from bordering pyrotechnics, pouring on the heat in as much visual metaphor as just cool-looking.
Blaise Cameron
Suddenly, Blaise's stance shifts and he points towards the ring. Though his eyes are obscured behind a pair of sunglasses, everyone in the arena can tell where his attention is focused: squarely on the Latina diva. And just as suddenly, he's bursting into motion, racing down the ramp to reach the ring. The final several feet are covered with a leap, boots alighting upon the ring apron. Gripping the top rope, he leans back to stretch the cables before vaulting himself up and over to land on the mat. Without pausing, he dashes to the far corner to perch upon the middle ropes, arms spread wide to present himself to the other half of the audience.
After a few lingering seconds, he hops down from his perch and turns to the blonde girl. She is definitely cute. He can confirm that up close now. And so, he makes his way over to her, pinching the edge of his shades to pluck them from his face. And upon reaching her, he turns them over and attempts to gently slide them over her eyes with a boyish grin.
"Nice to meet ya," he says, voice raised just high enough for her to hear over the static roar of the crowd. "Why don't you hold onto those for me? Since you're both coming home with me after the match anyhow."
Blaise puts the sunglasses right on Sierra's tiny, dainty nose. The girl doesn't even try backing away or ducking, whereas suspecting a dirty play with your enemy approaching you, and almost touching your face would be a natural instict for any fighter. She, however, only slightly tilted her head and pouted her lips, letting the enemy approach her and put the glasses on her face.
"Okay!" she chippers. The crowd laughs, as Sierra just stands there for a few seconds, as suddenly she forms her lips in an "U" shape and wrinkles her nose, clearly realizing something.
"Ooooh, wait, I get it..!" She pushes the sunglasses up, which are sliding down naturally, being too large for her. She does so even though the glasses aren't really for her, and obviously Blaise didn't mean the she should actually hold onto them.
"You are trash talking me! That's so cool, like we're characters on TV!" she screams out, lifting up her hands as if inviting him for a hug. And as she started talking to the brown haired boy, it abundantly clear, that she wasn't just speaking up for the audience. She was just really, REALLY loud, raising her voice unnecessarily. Now, her voice was quite melodic, but also extremely high, and combined with how loud she was talking, listening to the sound of her voice wasn't everybody's cup of tea. On the one hand, she was jovial and chipper, like a bird tweeting. But then again, she was loud and shril - like a knife scratching through an empty plate. And boy, she talked a lot.
“Ooooh, fancy! Do I look mysterious now? Like a secret agent? Or like—oh!—like the boss of a telenovela?! If I win, I still take this from you! Sometimes I can play characters, like Sierra the secret agent! Oh, oh or maybe, like, a famous pop star? Or no, no—an undercover detective! ‘Señorita Sierra, you're busted, scum!" when she started talking it was like a dam broke. With how much she was spewing nonsensical information at her american adversary, it was hard not to start tuning yourself out, as she kept on talking and talking.
"Or maybe I should go for the movie star look? Like, ‘Oh no, no photos please, I am simply too famous!’" She throws a hand over her face as if blocking imaginary paparazzi.
Sierra was pretty cute, with her flashy revealing clothing, huge eyes with long eyelashes and hourglass figure, but as she started talking, it was really hard not to find her annoying with the amount of squeaking in your ear. As she was telling some stupid story about shopping for zero-grade glasses, the audience was visibly getting bored if not sick of her talking on, and on, with the clueless spanish girl seeming completely unaware of the changing atmosphere. It was probably about time for Blaise to say something, as the information she was cluttering his ears with was completely useless.
Her rambling may be grating, and understandably so for most people. If not for the torrent of words, then the pitch of her voice. Blaise, however, has a tolerance for people unlike most, and to hear her carry on in such an animated, enthusiastic way supersedes the aforementioned tone. The volume.. he may not have noticed it quite yet, due to his own speech having to be elevated against the constant thrum of the crowd.
It is going long, however. And Blaise can tell the audience is feeling it. He can't, however, bring himself to be mean to the girl. After all, she clearly has no idea she's talking too much, and she's obviously in such a good mood. Messing with that would be heartbreaking. So instead, he decides to be a bit playful about it.
So as she's carrying on, Blaise reaches up to gently pluck the sunglasses from her pretty face again, unless she resists! But if she doesn't, he folds it up neatly and reaches for the side of her jacket. Probing about, he'll likely find a pocket to slide the sunglasses into for safekeeping. Then, still without making any effort to interrupt her, he reaches for the lapels of her jacket near the collar to gently slide it off of her slender frame, freeing her of her entrance attire and offering it patiently aside to the referee.
The referee dutifully would take it, transport it to a corner of the ring, then return to the two of them. Blaise gives the official a nod, then looks back to Sierra.
And finally, he reaches out to suddenly wrap his arms around her narrow waist, intent on yanking her a little off her feet and into himself. If successful, Sierra will find her body aligned perfectly against his; his firm, defined pectorals pressed tight into her breasts, his sleek, toned abdominals pressed flat into her bare stomach, his hips pressed to hers, and nearly face to face with her, each breath he exhales breezing warmth across her lips. His arms cinch tight against her lower back, focusing on crushing her stomach against his in a bearhug, while the referee waves an arm to signal the start of the match!
As Sierra keeps going on, and on, talking non stop, Blaise reaches out and takes the sunglasses off her face. This, however, doesn't stop her one sided conversation, as she doesn't even lose her sentence, only reacting with stuttering once, and bliking rapidly, her eyes adjusting.
He takes the sunglasses and puts them in her pocket, the dense girl not reacting even the slighest bit to that. But then, he gets really close, as he begins to take off her jacket, her attention is finally redirected.
"Ooouh, hey..." she makes a confused noise, as he begins stripping her shoulders and upper back. Her face blushing, she flatters her eyelashes, and raises her eyebrows high, surprised with the sudden closeness. Normally, she wouldn't let anyone take off her favorite jacket, as even though it was very impractical for fighting, she loved it too much to take it off. "He wants to see my shouldes?" she thinks to herself, and after only a brief second of consideration, she puts her hands down and close to each other, making it easier to slide the piece of clothing of her body.
With the red cropped jacket taken off, her upper body was even more exposed making her look even more small and delicate, her shoulders dainty and narrow, and upper arms not showing any real biceps muscles. Even more of her tan, almost tangerine colored skin was showing, not that with the jacket she wasn't scantily clad, but now she was pretty much just in bikini. She put one hand to her chin, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
"Oh, oh, you wanted to see my shoulders, didn't you? You must really think I'm pretty don't you?"
As Cameron’s strong arms suddenly touched her waist, Sierra lets out a tiny, startled gasp, her small frame light as a feather in his grip as he effortlessly pulls her against him. Their bellies pressed to eachother drew contrast between her delicate softness and his solid, sculpted form sending an unexpected shiver up her spine.
She liked that.
She found the idea of her bare stomach touching his to be extremely intimate, but also comforting. She doesn't even notice how her, erm, "sizeable" breasts pressing against his chest, draw more attention to how big they are, which normally she would find embarassing. In fact she's so preoccupied with how much she enjoyed his way of handling her, that she didn't think anything about finding yourself in this position in a wrestling ring being rather dangerous!
*DING!*
As the bell rings, the airhead feels her back arching uncomfortably, making her let out a surprised gasp. Her slender arms, trapped at her sides, wiggle uselessly against his grasp as she squirms, her legs kicking lightly in the air in a desperate but futile attempt to get free. Her breath comes in short, quick gasps, her normally chattery voice reduced to tiny, helpless noises.
“Nngh—! O-okay, okay, this is—aaagh—kinda… tight! This hurts! Ouch, aw aww awww!" she wheezes, squirming powerlessly. Her ribs strain under the crushing grip, her whole body shivers at the overwhelming power holding her captive.
With her head resting against his broad shoulder, her hot breath brushes against his neck as she gasps,
"Agh, please sir, nngh-!"
Last edited by reini on Tue Feb 25, 2025 9:29 pm, edited 2 times in total.
The hold could be described as somewhat intimate, in fairness. In the most blunt terms, he's hugging her body aggressively. Their shared lack of clothing means excessive skin contact. The tightness, of course, means every corner and curve is touching every point and contour. And the sensation of her bare skin against his isn't lost on him. Rambly little bugger, she may be, but she's an attractive rambly little bugger with a great body. The softness of her figure sees Blaise sinking in tighter into the hold, bearing her stomach more firmly into his abs. Every shift between them, every breath he takes causes his muscle definition to grind against her.
Her head rests on his shoulder, the feel of her breath on his neck sending a subtle shiver through him in return, Blaise might've been able to endure it all. Except she goes and calls him sir, in that small, helpless voice. God, his heart. It's so not fair. This may not be her debut, but he doesn't want her to come out of this looking pathetic! So he can toss her a bone. ...A small one.
With one arm still looping her middle, the squeezing pressure is eased with the other. Instead, that arm attempts to slide around her waist without capturing her arm, letting it free. Then the motion is repeated with the other arm. In effect, he's keeping her body securely held against his, but letting her arms go. Now her arm forearms won't be crushing her ribs, at least.
...Because he wants to do that, himself. Directly. He wants to feel the smooth curve of her waist compressing in his grip!
Biceps flex, and the pressure of his arms ratchet up, drastically squeezing the girl's belly against his abdominals for a span of several hard seconds before relaxing his arms just enough to keep her body aloft, letting her breathe again. His head tilts, bringing his lips closer to her ear. "I do think you're pretty," he admits with a playful lilt to his voice. "That's kind'a why I wanna win."
And then the arms clamp again, forearms biting into her lower back to crush her stomach against his for another several seconds. His heart pounds hard against her breast, impeded only by the thin material of her top. Despite the overwhelming sensation of her body against his, he's trying to keep a gage on her and the energy she's putting out - trying to sense an impending submission. He intends to win, but not like this. Not this early. He wants to see what she can take, but not push her over the edge yet!
Initially, when the hug was still pleasant, she liked his strong, capable body around hers, finding it comforting. It made her feel delicate and dainty, small in a good way! Well...this made her feel small as well, that for sure!
Sierra's rich parents got her top notch training, but none of the people hired to showcase her submission holds ever showcased it on her, making this a really shocking experience.
Her ribcage compresses painfully, waves of pain coarsing through her waist. Her experience with something like that being non existant, and medical knowledge in such topics being on a similar level, made her understanding of the actual source of pain limited, explaining why what she interpretated it as, was:
"Aaagh! My belly! My belly! You're hurting my belly!" her whole body jerked with a pitiful little squeak
With their faces so close to eachother, he says "I do think you're pretty", and although it makes her feel even more small, and defenseless, admitably Sierra was thinking about it so much, that the reasurrance did give her a small relief.
Still panicked about the pain, she tries fighting back! She arches back from resting on his shoulders, and starts using her hands to try and push him away. It's a little sad how weak, and uneffective this is-feeling for Blaise like if a chihuahua was trying to push him. But the crowd loved it! From the prespective of the audience, Sierra being so stupid as to allow this to happen in the first place, made her punishment deserved and satisfying.
Feeling just how delicate her body is, the american boy knew he had to go easy if he didn't want to literally break her, using just enough force to make her remain in his painful hold as long as possible. Feeling that her hands aren't doing any job of pushing him away, and are only serving to tire her even more, the blondie lets her arms fall, and slams herself back onto his chest. Even this is hard however, as the pain naturally made her arch her back. Weakly, she places one of her hands on his chest, and looks up at him.
She lets out a tiny, breathless squeak, her legs kicking lightly in the air, her tiny fingers now clutching onto his shoulders, as she tilts her head closer to his neck, her voice almost a whisper now.
“S-señor…! Let go, please let go! Let Sierra rest, just for a little! “…S-señor, please… m-mercy…?” Sierra tries pleading, unable to stand the feeling of her spine and ripcage being crushed and cracked painfully
