Sheila Morgan vs Kuroi Kamikaze II - Bound by Bloodlust

[PuroQueen]

Kuroi never could pass up an opportunity to let her opponents know just how much she enjoyed hurting them. It was just as true back in the pits as it was in the ring, and when the subject of her diatribe was someone she hated as much as she did Sheila, it just made her soliloquy sound all that much sweeter to her own ears. Kuroi didn't even care if her opponent was aware enough to listen to the damn thing, and besides, the metal chair pressed up against her throat was enough on its own to send the message she had intended.

Only when she finally lifted that chair high above her opponent's writhing frame did Kuroi finally seal her lips. Not to give Sheila's ears any respite, as they'd soon be ringing with bells from hell, but just so that she could savor the moment in its entirety. The way Sheila's body convulsed and spasmed, her throat red and bruised with the stark indentation of the metal seat. Sharp raspy coughs, audible indicators that her body was begging for life.

And Kuroi had no intentions of giving it to her. Her fingers tightened around the metal legs of the chair, muscles mere seconds away from turning Sheila's head into bits of skull scattered throughout a ringside impact crater -

Pain. That's all Kuroi felt right then, jolting through her body and arcing its way to every nerve ending. Pain. Her mouth was agape, lips twitching as they struggled to convey a gasp, let alone a scream. Her eyes crossed, barely able to look down and decipher the outline of Sheila's fist buried deep between her legs. With a loud clang, the metal chair slipped from Kuroi's hand and crashed to the floor below, followed soon after by her teetering body. She fell onto her knees, one hand gripping the ground for support while the other tended to her aching loins.

"Fuck...gagh!" Kuroi finally managed to wheeze once she had caught some semblance of breath. She tried to get back up, only to collapse right back down into that hunched-over positioning.

[BlackAkuma]

Yeah, Sheila landed that one deep. As someone who’d taken more than her fair share of shots below the belt, sometimes even with foreign objects, she knew how much a blow like that could hurt. Far more so when you didn’t see it coming, as her opponent clearly hadn't. If it had been anyone else, she might’ve felt bad about it. But Kuroi? Nah, fuck that. Her only regret was that she wasn’t wearing brass knuckles.

Still, metal or not, it had the desired effect, striking hard in her opponent’s most private of places and putting her momentum on a screeching halt. Sheila’s vision cleared just in time to see the awkward look on her face, and it was one she hoped that the camera caught. She’d be looking back at it later. ”You said something about a fist in a pussy?”

Gravity got the better of Kuroi in the next moment and she fell, massaging the spot between her legs while she dealt with the pain and dropping the chair to the side. Sheila’s first thought was to grab it and bean the bitch in her skull, get a little payback, but then something clicked: this spot was familiar, wasn’t it?

Payback time.

Sheila scooted forward, grabbed Kuroi’s head, and stuck it under her shoulders, locking it with her arm for a tight squeeze. At the same time, she brought her legs around her opponent’s waist, slipped the ankles together, and tried to apply pressure from there.

A guillotine choke, the same move Kuroi had used on her in their last match. She’d never done this before, so she couldn't say how well she was hitting it, but it looked easy enough, couldn't be that hard. Just squeeze and pull, right? She could do that.

[PuroQueen]

Huh, so Sheila had been listening after all, or at the very least, enough to throw her words right back at her. Now, here Kuroi was, gasping for breath, with her mind reeling and thoughts all over the place. The pain was intense, excruciating even, enough to make her squeal and groan as she clutched herself like some sort of amateur. Sure, she'd been hit in the crotch before, but never by the likes of a bimbo brawler like Sheila.

Sheila’s words only received a pained scoff from Kuroi. She was too busy gnashing her teeth, brewing with rage as her mind raced to devise some sort of miraculous comeback, no matter how slim the odds. But before she could put any sort of plan into motion, Sheila was already on her, molding her limbs around Kuroi in a way even the pain-stricken martial artist was quick to recognize as very off-brand for the brawler - a guillotine choke, and a somewhat familiar one at that. In fact, Kuroi could have sworn that -

That clever bitch. The script was being flipped from their last match, and now it was Kuroi who was reeling on the ground, with her body and neck entwined between the intimidating muscles of her opponent. Luckily for her, though, Sheila lacked much of the refined technique that made Kuroi's variation such a lethal move, but that didn't mean Sheila wasn't able to supplement it with raw power, something Kuroi became very aware of as her opponent's arms clamped around her head and supplied a never-ending stream of pressure. "Ugh! Monkey see, monkey do, huh? Argh!" Kuroi croaked, wasting valuable breath on one last verbal jab at her opponent.

But her mind quickly focused on much more pressing matters as she felt her air supply slowly being cut off. The pain in her groin was still raging, a throbbing reminder of just how much of a predicament she was really in. She tried to pry Sheila’s arm off of her, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. She gasped for air, her eyes bulging as she felt her energy slowly sapping. Leverage, she needed leverage. Her feet scrambled along the cement floor, sliding along the abrasive surface before finally finding purchase. With a loud grunt, she slowly lifted her backside upwards, angling her weight downwards into her opponent and making the hold more difficult to maintain. But time was slowly slipping away, and with it, Kuroi's consciousness. Sheila's grip was far too tight to work with at the moment, but if she could convince the blonde to loosen it just a little bit, just enough to catch a breath...

With her face a reddish hue, Kuroi began wailing fists into her opponent's sides. Lack of oxygen diminished some of her punching power, but she was still far from just a mere nuisance. Both fists pounded blindly into unsuspecting flesh, hoping to ding up every bit of Sheila's body that was within her knuckles' reach.

[BlackAkuma]

Yeah, the copycat comment was something that Sheila saw coming. She’d cop to it. ”Eh, a good idea’s a good idea.”

Kuroi probably couldn't appreciate just how far this was taking Sheila out of her comfort zone, but it really was a big departure. Screwing up submission moves was one of the main things that got her kicked out of wrestling school in the first place. She’d never had the patience for the more complex one, and when it came to getting her opponents down and working them over, she would have much rather just pummeled the shit out of them and called it a day, figuring that would be more effective. This sort of thoughtful approach, capturing an opponent and wearing them down with actual method, was never quite her thing.

But she couldn't argue with the results right now, and it had the added bonus of using one of Kuroi’s own moves against her, which twisted the knife in just a little more. Granted, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was doing it wrong and that it should’ve been having more of an effect than it was, but she didn’t have any big complaints on the whole. It was doing its job, locking her opponent down and giving her some time to breathe, allowing her to recover while Kuroi’s state worsened. What more could you ask for?

For starters, she could do without getting punched in the ribs. That would be a nice start.

She had only just settled in good when Kuroi lifted up and disrupted her position, screwing up the balance. It was hard enough for her to maintain this hold under normal circumstances, but with a shift like this, she couldn't come close to the sort of pressure she wanted. It was less of a guillotine and more like a tight embrace, which she was fairly sure no one in wrestling history had ever submitted to.

The punches drove that point home even harder, slicing into her midsection. Her grip was faltering, her body was breaking, this wasn’t working. Time to disengage.

Sheila let go of the hold, palmed Kuroi’s face to push her back, then brought up her leg and shot it out hard against her opponent’s chest, trying to knock her back and make some space between them. With them parted, she rolled to the side and pushed back up to her feet, with her arms feverishly massaging her aching sides while she rose, dealing the damage as she glared back Kuroi’s way. ”A little too close for you, huh?”

[PuroQueen]

If Sheila had been just a smidgen more of a submission artist, Kuroi might have been in real trouble. Fortunately for the redhead, the Wild One's attempts at replicating her move were amateurish, to say the least. If it weren't for her opponent's brutish strength and the pain still raging in her loins, Kuroi would have been able to slip out of Sheila's sloppy technique almost as soon as she attempted to apply it. Unfortunately for her, Kuroi didn't have the luxury of changing either of those things, so she was going to have to resort to something that was outside of her comfort zone: just plain ol' wailing on a bitch.

To her surprise, it actually seemed to be working. She threw each punch blindly, but the tight-knit nature of the hold meant that her fists really had nowhere to go except for Sheila's ribcage, where they were quick to entice a series of pained grunts and winces from the blonde. In return, Kuroi was slowly able to extract more air for herself as her opponent's grip loosened, the mix of sweat and pain gradually allowing her to maneuver from within Sheila's arm and ease up the pressure on her neck. She was close to breaking out all on her own, but it was Sheila who decided that she had had enough first. She finally released the hold, but not before sending Kuroi tumbling backward with a kick to her chest.

Kuroi somersaulted across the floor before falling into a heap just a few feet away from her opponent. She came back to life with a huge gulp of air, fingers around her neck as she savored every morsel of oxygen she received. Luckily, the pain from the pussy punch had mostly died down to a dull ache by now, a sensation Kuroi was hoping to replace with a more pleasurable one soon enough.

"You should stick to what you know, bitch, like... spreading your legs, or lickin' my clit," Kuroi snorted, gradually rising back up to meet her opponent on equal footing, "What? Don't tell me I got to teach you how to fuck too? 'Cause you sure as hell can't wrestle." She spat. Her eyes frantically searched the girl, at first just to gauge her reaction, but then to spot any openings. Aside from the damage to her ribs and a few other bumps and bruises, Morgan still seemed to be in top fighting shape. Kuroi thumbed the tip of her nose with a sigh: there was still plenty of work left to be done on this bitch.

Kuroi didn't hesitate much longer, instead making another mad dash towards her opponent. Each step was a painful one, but it would all be worth it as her body whipped into action. She leapt upwards, kicking one foot off the side of the apron while bringing her other leg forward to feign a kick, only to snap the leg back and aim a right cross instead, hoping to show her opponent how it's done with an impressive Superman punch to the jaw!

[BlackAkuma]

Yeah, fuck trying that MMA shit again. The next time Sheila got in the mood for a submission, she’d go for the barebones, basic stuff: Camel Clutches, Boston Crabs, maybe a sleeperhold. Hell, nothing was stopping her from just straight up choking the bitch out with her bare hands. That might be fun.

Regardless, she was out of it now, disengaged from Kuroi, but not free of the woods just yet. For starters, her ribs felt like kindling, splintered and cracked from the beating they’d just taken. As nuts as this woman was, there was denying how hard she could hit, how much power she could pack into those blows. Sheila would wager on having the better strength overall, but Kuroi seemed more adept at making use of what she had, maximizing her moments. Which just pissed Sheila off even more. Hated giving this bitch props.

Sheila smacked her fist against the floor and pushed up, rising to her feet as Kuroi did the same, never wanting to spend a single second below her level. ”Yeah, as if you’d know.” She spat off to the side, getting some of the blood out of her mouth. Must’ve cut her cheek a little at some point. ”No way a psycho cunt like you’s getting any on the regular.”

Though, being fair, Sheila had brought crazy into her bed before, so she wasn’t one to talk. She wasn’t the average lover, though - most women she knew would avoid Kuroi’s type like the plague.

The time for talking ended soon enough, with her opponent charging in hard and Sheila rushing to meet. She drew back her fist, going for a wild hook, but Kuroi was quicker on the draw this time, leaping high and flying towards her with an attack that she didn’t even register until it was too late. What she thought would be a kick turned out to be a punch, and a powerful one, too, as it was driven home with Kuroi’s weight behind it, connecting square on the side of her skull.

The blow sent her staggering back, and wouldn’t drop her flat to her feet if she hadn't bumbled her way into the announcer’s desk. Instead, she managed to stay on her feet as she used it for support, taking up residence there while the commentators went running.

Knowing the bad spot she was in, still groggy, Sheila realized the need to keep space open between her and Kuroi. Since the commentators weren’t using their equipment anymore, she decided she might as well make the best use of it - she reached over the desk, yanked out one of the monitors, and flung it towards her opponent’s head.

[PuroQueen]

Now that was the kind of satisfaction words couldn't buy. The air whooshed around her body as her fist led the charge, cracking straight into the side of Sheila's skull. It was more than enough to bring a wicked smile to Kuroi's face, even as she landed with a wobble. But she was quick to steady herself, pushing her palms up against the floor to follow up with another banger. She'd been using her fists a lot lately, and with Sheila slumped against the announcer's table, she seemed to be in just the right position for some kicking action.

The announcer's table had been where she had first drawn blood during their last match, and if Kuroi's next move went according to plan, chances were that was exactly what was going to happen again. The commentators knew it too, already scrambling away from the table as soon as it was clear both women were about to make it their new battleground.

Kuroi only needed a single lunge this time to build up the momentum she needed before taking the leap. Her body torqued mid-air, leg stretched high in a wide arc, looking to make a powerful impact into her opponent's head. It was a textbook tornado spin kick, one that didn't lose its flair as Kuroi performed it with ease from the outside. Her body was moments away from completing its rotation, her leg already on the downturn and en route to the back of Sheila's neck when -

"EEYYAAARRGH!" Kuroi screamed as the crt monitor was whipped directly into her face! Her body snapped back mid-air in almost cartoonish fashion, her soaring momentum driven to a wailing halt as Kuroi landed just a foot away from her initial target. A collective wince rippled throughout the crowd as an instant replay of the moment already aired on the titantron above, but Kuroi was far too preoccupied with the mind-numbing pain coursing through her head to watch. Her palms covered her face, hands protectively shielding her throbbing nose and forehead. When she finally moved them away from her face, she let out a disheveled groan as she noticed the bright red glaze over her fingertips.

First blood had been drawn alright, but it wasn't Sheila - it was hers. Her left nostril was leaking like a faucet, barely stifled by the back of Kuroi's hand as she tried to wipe away the mess. She tried to pick herself up, wanting to at least be on her feet for when her opponent inevitably chose to capitalize, gripping onto the announcer's table for support as she shot Sheila a death stare.

[BlackAkuma]

Oh, wow, that actually hit. Sheila had wanted it to, of course, but with her vision hazy and her mind racing, she hadn't rated her chances as terribly high. More than likely, Kuroi would just dodge the thing, but hell, Sheila could always use that to her advantage and rush in while she was distracted. It was better than just being a sitting duck, a passive target while the lunatic wailed on her.

Much to her pleasant surprise, though, that wasn’t how things turned out, as Kuroi just had to get her flashy kicks in. Of all the things Sheila had done in wrestling, of all the wild sights she’d seen, watching the proud bitch get waylaid while she was about to pull off some more of her Jackie Chan shit ran high on the list. It even got a full laugh out of Sheila, as she watched the woman spiral out of control like a runaway top.

And best of all? It drew blood. Good turnaround from last time.

She caught her breath and snickered as she looked on, enjoying the sight of Kuroi writhing, if only for a couple of seconds. She knew that, more than likely, she would be in the same situation, but for now she just wanted to revel in it. ”Crikey, caught you off guard, did I? It’s on me.”

Knowing Kuroi was too tough to stay down for long, Sheila decided the time was right to move in again. After screwing up the guillotine choke, she wasn’t in a mood to get fancy, though, and decided to stick with what she knew best: straight brutality. Sheila reached out, grabbed hold of her opponent’s red hair, and tried to ram her face hard into the table, hoping to knock the sense out of, make her more pliable for more interesting things.

[PuroQueen]

"What the hell was that?" Kuroi mumbled, her voice angry and incredulous. She had expected Sheila to retaliate somehow, but she hadn't anticipated it to be in the form of throwing something at her, let alone actually hitting the bullseye. Even Sheila's tone hinted that the brawler was a little surprised with her own marksmanship.

A few hard blinks later, and Kuroi was able to answer her own question. Fragmented bits of glass and electronics littered the floor around her. But Kuroi was still too busy reeling from the impact of the monitor hitting her skull to compliment her opponent's resourcefulness. She could feel the heat and sting of the laceration on her forehead, and the blood pouring down her nose and clogging up her breathing. The shock of the blow had stunned her, making her already feeble grip on the table even weaker.

But Sheila allowed her to get to her knees anyway, and as if to add insult to injury, she did it with a laugh. It was a sound Kuroi hadn't expected to hear from her opponent, and now that she did, it just made her hate Sheila that much more. Kuroi bore a look into Sheila that screamed murder, but she would only have a few seconds to leave its mark before Sheila was already on her again. Kuroi winced as she was grabbed by her hair and dragged up to her feet, only to have her already throbbing skull thrashed into the announcers' table!

It seemed the match organizers had learned from their last encounter that this furniture piece would be a point of contention, as the table was now made of sturdier metal and plastic as opposed to the brittle material of last time. That didn't mean it still couldn't be broken, however, a point that Sheila seemed eager to test by using Kuroi's skull like a hammer! Kuroi let out a loud pained yelp as her head was drilled into the metal surface before rebounding with a loud clang. Her screams quickly deteriorated into a series of grumbling moans as her body lay limp across the table, a steady stream of blood continuing to leak from her nostrils and pool around her head. The only thing keeping her upright were her fingers, which barely maintained their feeble grip on the table's edge.

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila had a regret from her last match with Kuroi.

She had a lot of regrets, actually, with the chief among them being how it ended, but she also had a short list of smaller pains in the ass, too. One of the biggest was around the spot in the match where she put Kuroi through a table. That had been fun and all, but it hadn't been on purpose. When she hit Across the Border, she’d been attempting to just throw her over the desk, not annihilate it with her body. Granted, that was a lot of fun, but it robbed her of the opportunity to use the desk for anything else, and with it being a standard match, that was all the destruction she could get.

New day, new rules, new opportunities. Sheila was going to put this bitch through this table with her finishing move, pin her, and then fuck her on the wreckage. First, though, she had to get her in the right spot, and that would require a little coaxing. A little violent coaxing. ”Looking a little weak there, KK.” Sheila swung her arm around and gave Kuroi a firm slap, right on the ass, before she gripped the hem of her garment and used it for a handhold. ”Let me help you up.”

Sheila ‘helped’ her up on the table by hurling her onto it like a piece of rejected meat, careless dumping her across the top and stretching her out, facing up. Once she was settled in, she walked over to her opponent’s head, standing over her, casting as a shadow across her face, while she ran a hand through her foe’s short hairs. Almost a gentle touch. A caress.

That was before she gripped tight, dipped down, and brought their lips together for the sort of kiss they both clearly loved, and the audience loved to watch, if the cheers were anything to go by. An invasion into Kuroi’s mouth, plunging her tongue deep and sealing their lips together, all while she gripped the hairs so tight that she came close to ripping them clean off. A possessive, hungry, dominating embrace, and not the last one they would have tonight.

It lasted a few moment - a few hot, steaming moments - before Sheila broke it off, backed away, and rammed the back of Kuroi’s head into the desk, all while brandishing the devil’s grin. ”Don’t go anywhere.”