Sheila Morgan vs Kuroi Kamikaze II - Bound by Bloodlust

[PuroQueen]

A coarse chortle could be heard from Kuroi as the referee caved in to her frivolous little games. Seeing how much it annoyed her opponent just made it all the more sweeter. What wasn't so sweet, however, was just how well Sheila seemed to be weathering the storm. The initial shock of the hold had gotten Kuroi the reaction she wanted at first - squirming, groaning, and writhing. But now, Sheila was actually crawling, inch by inch, to the edge of the ring, transforming what was supposed to be an unbreakable, crippling move into one that was suddenly mobile.

Kuroi's smile faltered, as did her strength. This move was a rarity in her arsenal, but whenever it was pulled out, it always did the job. She gritted her teeth, letting loose a vicious snarl as she refocused her efforts not only on Sheila's hip and ankle but also on her pussy. Her thumb continued to work at the sensitive flesh underneath her thin attire, foregoing its soothing massage for much faster and deeper strokes. She still didn't want Sheila to cum quite yet; that would be destroying the mental image Kuroi had created for the perfect victory she had promised she would have tonight. But she did aim to make each one of Sheila's movements more labored, more bogged down by the heavy load of pleasure and pain.

It did little to stop the powerhouse that was her opponent. Sheila was moving at a snail's pace, but she was moving. Kuroi hissed and spat, gargled and roared, letting her frustrations be known as her grip on her opponent ever so slowly began to wane. The hold was requiring an immense amount of energy to maintain, energy that Sheila was beginning to sap as she continued to trudge closer to the edge of the ring. But it was the sweat trickling down Kuroi's forehead that said it all: Kuroi was worried, actually perturbed that her opponent had the strength to endure what was undoubtedly one of the most complex and effective submission moves she knew. "W-Where are you going, bitch! The ropes won't save you, Sheila! Tell her, ref-boy, the ropes don't mean shit!" Kuroi wailed, her voice taking on a tone that was more pleading than it was demanding.

But she was too late. Sheila had reached the ropes, and her intentions had become instantly clear. Kuroi felt her hold begin to slip as Sheila began to twist and turn her body, fighting against the submission hold with a new fervor. Kuroi's eyes widened in surprise as she felt herself being flipped over, her own hold reversed and turned against her. "UUAGH!" Kuroi yelped as her body slammed against the mat with a loud thud, grunting in pain as the air was forced out of her lungs. Sheila had done it, done the impossible. She had reversed the move.

Kuroi writhed and gasped, the pressure of her own attack suddenly bearing down on her with all the might Shiela could muster. Her fingers were far from the reach of their once cruel and invasive tasks, now instead clawing against the mat in a futile attempt to find some relief for her entangled lower half. Her eyes twitched and bulged, her mouth convulsing in a visible display of disbelief and agony. The incredulity of the situation was clouding her senses, but another jab of pain was finally enough to jolt her fighter's instinct back into ignition. Kuroi was beginning to feel the large gaps in her opponent's hold, the looseness in areas that should be taut, the tightness in muscles that should have been flexible. For all of Sheila's power, she certainly lacked technique, and that would be the key to Kuroi's escape.

Even if Sheila had properly reversed the hold, then only one of Kuroi's legs would be solidly in her grasp, while the other less so. With a loud grunt of exertion, Kuroi attempted to regain control of the looser of the two limbs, bucking, shaking, and unwinding it from its crossed-over position until her leg had been freed from the coiled-up madness. If she was successful, Kuroi would still have to fight through the pain in order to twist her body against the mat, positioning herself sideways so that only one shoulder balanced against the canvas. The additional strain on her body was nigh unbearable at this angle, but it was necessary for what came next. If Kuroi had secured the positioning she needed, the sleek martial artist would then begin raining down heel strikes into the face of her opponent, hammering her foot repeatedly into Sheila's unprotected skull. This was MMA at its finest, a form that Kuroi was perfectly aware her opponent was neither fond nor comfortable with, which was what made it so perfect. She only needed one good kick to land, but that didn't stop Kuroi from delivering each one with pure maliciousness, howling with a mix of pain and delight as she bashed her foot over and over again into Sheila's exposed facial features for as long as it took to earn her freedom.

Spoiler

[BlackAkuma]

It should be noted that Sheila had absolutely no idea what the fuck she was doing. She didn’t know much about submission moves, as anyone with even one functioning eye could see, and she knew far less about reversing them. Aside from the obvious figure-four reversal that just about every wrestler could do, she was pretty screwed anytime someone got in her in a hold like this. All she could do most of the time was just hold on until she got her hands on a weapon, then smash her way free. The ‘hard way’, as she liked to call it.

Here, all she could do was hold on, in the desperate hope that her gambit might work, running on the faint chance to drive her on. That, and the fact that Kuroi really, really didn’t seem to want her to reach the ropes, telling her that was probably the exact thing she should be doing.

Still, it was good to get the confirmation, especially when that came in the form of Kuroi yelling her lungs out, a sound that she’d come to truly value and cherish. Hell, might as well rub in it a bit. ”What was that? Can’t hear you, speak up!” She called back as she shook the hold around, jostling her opponent’s joints. ”Can’t hear you over all that bitch-crying you’re doing back there.”

As much as she wanted to pretend like she was on top, Sheila wasn’t in so much pain that she’d forgotten how perilous her position was at the moment. She might have the momentary advantage, but she still wasn’t anywhere close to winning this match. Not only did she still need to beat her foe, but she had an orgasm to get on top of that, and she didn’t have a plan for either one. Not that she ever had a plan, really, but today was worse for that sort of thing than usual.

And now add on the fact that Kuroi seemed hell bent on making this hold even more of a pain in the ass than it had to be. It was hard enough for Sheila to get here in the first place, let alone maintain it, and when Kuroi’s struggles gave her an errant kick in the face, she decided it wasn’t worth the trouble.

That didn’t mean she was leaving without a parting gift, though. And with this unique position, she had such a good target to go for.

Sheila brought her arm and drove her elbow down, hard, right between Kuroi’s legs, going straight for the groin with a brutal blow. Satisfied, she’d try to roll out a moment later hoping to get some space. Also, because she wanted to be far enough away to appreciate Kuroi’s reaction.

[PuroQueen]

For a girl who probably couldn't spell submission let alone pull a decent one off, Sheila sure felt comfortable running her mouth right now. Especially when it wasn't skill, or wit, or technique, that had helped her seize the moment. It had been nothing more than a thick hide and a brain too small to know when to give up. It was a lesson Kuroi should have learned from her first encounter with Sheila in the ring; the cunt was too stubborn, she rather snap than squeal a surrender. In this case, she had done neither.

It was partly for that reason Kuroi couldn't help but blame herself for the debacle. She hadn't noticed it before, but the tactician inside of her had been practically screaming, begging her to press the advantage while she still could. Kuroi's hand had been right at the devil's doorstep, fingertips fully capable of slipping between her opponent's folds and pumping away. But what had she done instead? Kuroi had teased, and tickled, belittling her opponent's privates for her own amusement and egotistical gain. In reality, she had been distracted, led astray by her fantasies, her dreams of that ultimate finale, one that was coated equally in the screams and squirts of her opponent. So much so in fact, that Kuroi had almost forgotten what mattered most: Winning.

And now, that too was dangerously close to being snatched from out of her reach. Even though her carefully crafted hold had devolved into a messy tangle of limbs, Sheila still had plenty of grit to make the red-head hurt. Kuroi thought she was making progress with her thrashing and kicking, a brief smile even appearing on her face as she felt the hold suddenly lose all it's pressure. But Sheila had released her more so out of annoyance than pain, and in return, she would punish Kuroi with bucketloads of the latter.

Kuroi gasped, her shock-stricken expression magnified ten fold as her mouth stretched into a wide open circle. Air rushed out of the open hole, crushed out of her lungs from the crude force of the sharp elbow coursing up her pussy and arcing it's way through every fiber and nerve ending in her body. Her hands immediately went to aid the region, cupping between her thighs as Kuroi cradled into the fetal position on the mat. She groaned and sputtered, clenching her eyes as she pathetically tried to rock the pain away on the canvas. The crowd cheered their approval with a roar that was beyond deafening. The once proud and skilled martial artist, who had weaved and webbed her opponent with masterful technical prowess, had been completely undone with a... crotch blow. The humiliation alone was enough to render her to nothing more than a drooling, gargling fragment of herself, but of course the pain didn't help either.

"fuckingbitchfuckingbitchfuckingbitch-" Kuroi stuttered at a million words a second, her body to racked by pain and her mind too muddled with shock to mutter anything more intelligent.

[BlackAkuma]

Despite it being legal in about 99% of Sheila’s matches, she tried to avoid crotch shots most of the time unless her opponent decided to go low first. Not so much of an honor thing, really. It just felt like such a cheap, weak way to go about a fight. Once you did that once, you could do it twice, then three times, and then you might as well have been in a cat fight. Fuck that.

Kuroi was different, though. For her, she would make exceptions. The woman couldn't go five minutes without talking about her pussy and all the crazy things she wanted to do with it, so it seemed only fair that she returned the favor with some action on her part. As such, she drove that elbow down hard, making sure it sunk in deep and did some good damage. Judging by the way her opponent reacted, it was safe to call that mission accomplished.

”Yeah, yeah, heard it all before.” Sheila mumbled as she slipped out from under her foe and tried to stand up, only to fall back to her knees before she could get too high up. Her legs were still feeling the effects of Kuroi’s whatever-hold, making them strain and creek with every movement she made, and she had the feeling they would be a constant problem for the rest of this match. It was something she was having to get used to when it came to fighting Kuroi - as batshit insane as she was, the woman knew how to leave her mark.

She grabbed the referee’s shirt and used him as a reluctant base as she pushed up, relying on him for support whether he liked it or not - definitely not, if his groaning and whining was any clue. Once she was all the way up, she brought her attention back to her fallen foe and marched over, keeping her stance wide as she approached. ”Got something to say?” She reached down, grabbed two handfuls of Kuroi’s unruly red hair, and proceeded to yank her back to her feet. ”Say it to my face.”

The moment she was standing, Sheila unloaded, lashing out with a volley of quick punches to Kuroi’s face, driving her back towards the corner. She had the germ of an idea brewing for what to do next, but the first step was getting her up against the pads.

[PuroQueen]

For all the discipline and philosophy that came with the unique blend of martial arts Kuroi had been trained in, the one thing she had never been a stickler for was the whole honor schtick. It was one of the principal reasons she had had a falling out with her first dojo. But that didn't mean she fell into by-any-means-necessary school of thought either. Kuroi was somewhere in between: Do what it takes to win, but do it with style and skill. One crotch blow she could understand. After all, Sheila wasn't exactly known for her finesse. But two of them, in one match? Well now, that's just plain desperate.

Kuroi's eyes glared at her opponent as she got back up. Sheila's legs were still shaky as she walked over, a testament to the nasty effect of Kuroi's hold, but the redhead was in no shape to capitalize on it. Her groin was still pounding like a bitch, her hands gingerly pressing against her sore region. She made a mental note to make Sheila's own soft spot a priority target next time she was on the up. She knew a kick or two that could do the job pretty well, or if she was feeling particularly adventurous when the time came, maybe she could try something off the ropes - yeah, that'd really leave a mark.

But much more pressing matters awaited Kuroi as Sheila bent down to snatch a patch of her hair. Kuroi winced and whined, her fingers trying to uncurl Sheila's digits from her locks, but there was no undoing the woman's iron-tight grip. She could feel the sweat on her skin, the hot breath against her face as Sheila pulled her in close. Kuroi licked her lips, assembling just enough breath to enunciate her words much more slowly this time.

"I said...Fucking... BI- GAAUGH!" Kuroi barely had a chance. As soon as she was on her feet, Sheila unloaded into her, hurtling fist after fist into her vulnerable face. Kuroi didn't even have enough time to block the first few that came her way, leaving herself completely unprotected as her entire frame was rocked back by the unyielding force of each punch. Every hit made her stumble back, her feet slipping on the canvas, held up only by the commanding grip of her opponent's fingers in her hair.

It wasn't long before they were already at the corner. Kuroi's back slammed against the turnbuckle, her face repeatedly sandwiched between Sheila's fist and the thin padding. It was embarrassing it had taken her this long to react, but finally, Kuroi summoned the instinct to protect herself, bringing her forearms up to guard as much of her face as possible. But Sheila was relentless, leaving Kuroi a panting mess, her breaths coming in short gasps as she struggled to catch some air between the unforgiving onslaught.

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila could see the look in Kuroi’s eyes as she came in, radiating nothing but pure hatred. Not the least bit surprising. Despite the fact that the two of them hadn't known each other that long, with this being their third meeting, the two of them had built up some real hatred. Especially considering all the shit they had in common. Refusal to conform, love of wanton violence, a taste for nudity and a lack of respect for personal boundaries. Should’ve been love at first sight.

Maybe it was. In some ways.

But right now, as she hauled the woman up and venom was spat her way, it was all loathing, and Sheila showed her foe what she thought about her comments with a smack to the fact, promptly knocking the taste out of her mouth. Damned satisfying, too, especially since it took a moment for the pain drunk Kuroi to get a proper defense up. Sheila had a hell of a time battering her backwards, pressing her to the turnbuckle and trapping her in the corner. Could’ve done that all night, really, but she had better plans in mind.

”Shut! Your! Gob!” Sheila punctuated each hit with a stronger blow, nailing her with the best one for last, a winding haymaker that crushed her guard. More than enough to keep her up against the pads for a few seconds, which was all the time she needed. With her opponent wallowing in the corner, Sheila took a step back, admired the image, then took off running at full tilt.

Her footsteps were wobbly at first, but she found her footing the more she went, fighting past the pain and picking up speed. She reached the other side of the ring and turned to hit the turnbuckle, smacking her back against it with enough force to make all the ropes quiver. Without missing a beat, she came storming back at full speed, leaped up at the last second and proceeded to through all her weight at her opponent with a body avalanche.

[PuroQueen]

Kuroi's guard was practically airtight, held up like a wall of flesh and bones to absorb the blows until she could think of a better plan. But Sheila hit hard, too damn hard. Kuroi couldn't think, she couldn't bob and weave, she couldn't do anything. She could only grunt and grimace as blow after blow rocked her to her core. A brief pause interrupted the barrage, a single second of respite Kuroi used to peek through her forearms and witness her opponent's fist coil backwards in preparation for something big. Sheila's haymaker clubbed into the side of her skull like a sledgehammer, shattering her guard as if her arms were made out of glass.

The force was enough to whip her body against the ropes, a mist of spit and blood spraying forth from her mouth and showering fans from across the barrier. Kuroi's upper half sagged against the top rope, her sweat-slicked hair drooping downwards just enough to obscure her hazy expression. A few more grueling seconds of nothingness transpired as Sheila backed up, giving Kuroi a moment to catch her breath, to think she might be safe. But Kuroi knew her opponent was far from finished. Though she wasn't turned towards her, Kuroi could still feel the woman's glare prickling at the back of her neck. She could envision the sick smile probably forming on that bitch's face.

Sure enough, Sheila wasn't about to hold back. The ring began to tremble with thunderous jerks, the ground beneath her feet all of a sudden becoming far too tumultuous to stand on. Kuroi slowly shifted her back against the corner, fingers gripping onto the ropes on either side of her so tight that her knuckles gleamed a pale white. Her black and red hair still veiled her face, obscuring her already blurry vision from properly perceiving the incoming threat. But Kuroi didn't need to see it to know what was coming: Pain

"UUUAUGH!" Kuroi screamed as Sheila's body crashed into hers with a single, explosive burst. Her bare boobs were the first to feel the brunt of the impact, battered beneath the might of her opponent's firmer pair. But the rest of her body wasn't far behind, forced to contend with the monstrous force threatening to flatten her frame between her opponent's rock hard body and the equally unyielding turnbuckles. Physics would dictate that Sheila would eventually rebound back, sparing Kuroi from such a fate, but leaving her all alone and paralyzed in the corner, unable to move or even breathe.

And then the pain hit, a searing ache that burned through every nerve in her body. Her hands twitched at her side before shakily forming loose fists in front of her; a jerk reaction to the mind-numbing pain currently clouding her senses. She took one wobbly step forward, then another. Her foot wouldn't have a chance to make a third. Kuroi collapsed forward, haphazardly throwing a weak and pathetic right hook in Sheila's general direction on the way down before face-planting into the canvas with a loud flop.

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila had pulled off by some small miracle, but it couldn't be understated just how much of a toll that little run had taken on her body. She honestly felt as if she could keel over at any second - her legs were numb, her head was beating out of her chest, and every breath she took was a supreme effort. She was certain that she would slip out of consciousness if she slowed down for too long, like a car with the engine shut down while it was going 100 kilos an hour. Her body wasn’t meant to function like this. No one’s was.

And yet, she kept pushing off. Factory warranted be damned.

It all came out well in the end, as she had enough in the tank to career across the ring and make it back to her foe in explosive fashion. The body avalanche wasn’t all that pleasant for her, either - Kuroi had a solid body, lots of dense corded muscle, like running into a fleshy well. But whatever the damage, her foe got the worst of it. Their bare breasts hit each other at full ramming speed, filling the arena with the sound of clapping flesh.

Sheila backed off, took a single step, and immediately dropped to a knee, the effort taking too much of a toll on her ailing body. That wouldn’t have been such a big deal if her opponent was feeling even worse, but as she looked up, she could see Kuroi come marching out of the corner, looking like something straight out of a slasher flick.

One step forward. Two. Three. So close, and…

…down she went.

Sheila took a sigh of relief, or the closest thing she could with her tortured lungs. It might’ve been a weird thing to win a match on, but she felt secure enough to try for the pin now, figuring that Kuroi had to be wholly out of it by now. She dropped to both knees, crawled forward, rolled her opponent over to her back and leaned on her chest like she was a living couch, too haggard for a better pin and figuring that would do the trick. ”Just stay down.”

[PuroQueen]

Darkness began to consume Kuroi's vision as her opponent slowly rolled her over onto her back with a loud heave. But Kuroi barely knew where she was. Even the bloodthirsty chants of the audience slowly began to fade into a distant muffle. All she could do was feel - feel the weight of Sheila's warm body draped over hers like a blanket of sweaty flesh, feel the unwanted warmth slowly seeping into her muscles as Sheila's breasts bore down triumphantly over hers.

ONE!

The pain shot through Kuroi's limbs in waves, prompting a steady stream of sweat and blood to mix together on her lips. Her breaths were labored, every inhale feeling like a knife being twisted into her lungs. The devil on her shoulder begged her to let go, to close her eyes and accept despair, to accept the heat and love of her opponent, to accept defeat.

TWO!

Only now could Kuroi hear the referee's count, the loud slap of his palm against the mat finally reawakening her senses with a loud ringing in her ear. The sounds of the arena snapped back into focus, as did the sight of her opponent lying warily over her. Her wails transformed into determined grunts, mustering just enough strength to thrust her hips upwards, arch her back, and buck out of the pin just as the referee's hand was about to slap the mat for the third time!

Kuroi wouldn't give herself any time to celebrate the escape. She swung her body sideways, carrying on the momentum she had used to break out of the pin to roll herself onto her knees. Her fingers clawed into the girl's scalp as she dug one knee into the mat, using it to pivot behind Sheila while scooping her up into a seated position in front of her. Kuroi then flung one arm around her opponent's neck, clasping her hand onto her bicep on the other side of Sheila's shoulder to fully encapsulate her head in a rear naked choke!

If she was successful, then every step of the maneuver would have been filled with aches and pains, but that wouldn't stop Kuroi from seeing it through with the reflexes of a woman still fresh and in the fight. She jerked Sheila's head violently within the hold, spittle flying wildly from her snarled lips as she amped up the pressure to a dangerous degree. The resulting vigor filled her vision with the sight of Sheila's breasts flailing up and down, causing her to lick her lips to clean the sudden salivation. Not yet, she told herself as she gave Sheila's head another rough backwards yank. As much as she deserved it, Kuroi couldn't allow herself to dive in for the goods this early, not with Sheila still kicking and screaming. No, Kuroi needed to choke the life out of her first, leave her on the verge of passing out before she could truly enjoy the fruits of her labor. Still, a few free samples never hurt anybody. Kuroi leaned forward to plant a slew of wet, sloppy kisses along Sheila's neck, unable to contain herself for much longer as she sealed in her Whisper Choke with wild desire!

Whisper Choke

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila didn’t want to pin Kuroi.

You might have had a hard time guessing that with her current situation. She was draped over her opponent’s lifeless form, pinning her to the mat, while the referee slid for the final count. It looked like she wanted to be there, as far as the whole world was concerned. She was trying to pin her opponent. She wanted to win the match, and she was in the process of doing that.

But going for pinfalls on Kuroi just felt wrong, somehow. After what they’d been through, it seemed too mundane of a way to get her over the hump, even if the next step would be a violent fucking. She would’ve much rather gotten a submission out of the bitch, but given her lack of submission moves and her opponent being as much of a stubborn, unrelenting cunt as she herself was, she knew that was a distant possibility. Sometimes, you just had to settle.

So, as the referee went through his count, she eased and prepared for this thing to reach its end. She’d flop over, fuck Kuroi’s brains out, and call it a night.

And then she kicked out.

Only Kuroi didn’t just kick out. That was what Sheila thought at first, but she was corrected when the madwoman reached up and gripped her scalp, pulling her back hard and dragging her into a seated position. She felt an arm wrapping around her throat, danger zone stuff, and she tried bringing her hands up to pull it away, but she was too slow this time. The hold was locked in and her airways were shut tight. ”Fuck-”

‘Fuck’ was right. She writhed about, kicking and flopping and flailing, but it didn’t get her anywhere productive. Kuroi just yanked her head back, kept her in tight, and ramped up the pressure, allowing her enough air to stay in the fight but not enough to make any meaningful gains. Oh, and of course the bitch took the time to plant kisses on her, claiming her body like she owned it, an act that made her struggles even more desperate.

All she could do was thrash out and swing her hands upwards, a mad attempt to get the monkey off her back, one that wasn’t likely to work. Without the ropes to save her, though, she couldn't think of better options.