Alicia Soto vs. Angela Belti - Lost In Hollywood

[BlackAkuma]

So, that was all informative. It might not have seemed like much, but during that little squeezing session, she learned an important thing about Alicia Soto - namely, that she never, ever wanted to be between that woman’s legs again. Clearly, she wasn’t the type to skip leg day.

The kick freed her, but that didn’t mean the pain went away, as Angela could still feel her aching jaw and pounding skull. It was a testament to how strong her foe was - if that had happened in the middle of the ring, she could’ve done more damage without worrying about a time limit. Angela had lucked up a bit there, but she wouldn’t let that fact stop her from capitalizing. Alicia was down, vulnerable for the first time in two or three minutes. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for.

The only problem was that her options were limited. She’d recovered, but not quite enough to mount a full scale assault. She need to get in some quick damage, preferably in a reliable way, and she didn’t relish the thought of whipping Alicia around ringside anymore. She needed to keep her close and bring her in under the ropes as soon as possible.

Angela had a quick, deep chuckle as the idea came to her, and she went into action straightaway, grabbing the ropes to pull her all the way back out onto the apron. She swung all the way around, reached up to snag the middle rope with both hands, shot her legs of the edge of the ring and proceeded to scope Alicia up into her thighs, giving her a small taste of the medicine she’d just severed. Instead of a headscissors, though, she would tuck her ankle underneath her knee and go for the figure-four headlock, pouring on the pressure and showing what her own legs could do.

All the while, she made sure to grip the ropes tight. It would start up the count for her, too, but it would ensure that Alicia wasn’t going anywhere she didn’t want her to.

[HotWheels]

Young a competitor though she was, Siren knew well that not having a fully functioning back in a wrestling match would...not get her far in a wrestling match. That was the shitty part of the back being connected to everything else. As she sat up against the apron, chewing her lower lip, she jerked her shoulders and neck left and right and arched her back to get everything back there straightened out again. Yeah, that was no way to fix things the right way, which she had learned through all the training she had helped with in the past couple of years, but she just needed them to stop aching for the next few minutes. She wanted a fuckin' hot pack.

As it started to ease, Siren shifted to stand. Honestly, it would probably end up fine if she didn't let Mama keep assaulting it with blunt-force trauma and if the Hollywood hottie refrained from bashing her own back against the outer floor. What was not fine, however, was how the Latina got reeled right back against the apron, and not by a pair of strong Italian hands. Nah, the hands would have been too easy.

Siren flopped back against the apron as the bigger woman's legs snagged around her throat, and though good instincts told her that she should try to slip down through the bottom of them, she didn't manage in time, getting a calf almost as much around her chin and jaw as her throat. Hands came up for that age-old fight between strong legs and not-possibly-as-strong arms, and they both pawed as Mama tucked her legs and put the squeeze onto the half-Latin beauty. What started as a groan squeezed out of the Siren turned into a faint moan.

Her legs were huge; Siren's legs might have been big too, yeah, but she hadn't been the one to have to experience them. Her head felt swallowed in enough muscle that it could pop, and those calves were cut enough that Siren felt choked, too. Second part might have worked for her if it hadn't been, again, the Mama of a chick she had taken a shine to, and the Latina's only concern was escaping from those slabs of marble as she squirmed and clawed.

[BlackAkuma]

”Enough, you two!” The referee cried out, throwing her hand over the ropes and chastizing them both. ”Bring it back inside the ring! Do you hear me”

Angela heard the woman loud and clear. She was only two feet away, after all, and frankly didn’t need to shout so loud to get her attention. She had every intention of bringing this match back into the ring and winning it properly, but she had some business with Alicia’s neck that she needed to conduct, first. Business that involved squeezing it, cranking it, twisting it, and making the Latina’s life unpleasant in general. While she’d never seen herself as a petty woman, she would be lying if she said she didn’t take some small satisfaction in doing unto Alicia had she’d just done unto herself. ”You’re not the only one with a nice pair, eh, bambina?”

This also served the dual purpose of giving her a moment to catch her breath, the first real reprieve she’d enjoyed since Alicia started building up. She was still carrying all the pain of that little run, but after a few seconds of respite, she felt she had enough wind back to swing things back in her favor. She could work with this.

”3! 4!”

But she would have to work with it inside the ring, which wasn’t necessarily a problem. She had to get Alicia back inside, but she didn’t have to be nice about it.

Angela abruptly let go of the headlock, releasing her foe, but she wouldn’t enjoy freedom for long. The Italian let go and dropped down behind Alicia, where she promptly reached out and wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her in close. She dipped down, popped her head in under her opponent’s shoulder, and proceeded to lift her up with a belly-to-back suplex, tossing her up high and bringing her down right on the ring apron. If that connected, it would be easy enough to push her back in under the ropes, and the referee would finally be satisfied.

[HotWheels]

Siren hated hearing her own sounds of distress. They had always sounded weird to her, shameful, embarrassing. Made her sound weak, fawning, she always thought. Her own mama had always chided her for bottling up when she had an injury. Said it wasn't healthy. She had shaken off many skinned knees and torn muscles without more than a peep. It testified to the power of Angela's thick legs, then, that the Hollywood hottie had to tolerate listening to her own groans and whines as the bigger woman crushed her head. She was glad that her own hair hid half of her contorted face.

Her fingers continued to poke and prod at the pale skin, but, fuck, she wasn't going anywhere that way. She had just enough of her wits about her to think to push up on her legs, but with the older Belti's strength, she sure as hell didn't think she would find a way to get high enough to force the woman to loosen up. It was as dire of a situation as she could remember being in during her short career, and she had only the ref's count to rely on for an escape. She tried punching Angela's knee, too; her longsuffering defiance wouldn't given in even if it felt like her neck and jaw wanted to.

All at once, the squeeze ended. Siren slumped with her chest heaving, but the fight in her wouldn't allow her to go down all the way even if her head was telling her to take a break after that. As it turned out, staying up was just what Mama wanted. She felt the woman grip her from behind, and warning sirens sounded to protect against a German suplex. Siren lashed out with an elbow that went right above Mama's head as she ducked under the arm to scoop up the Californian far lower than she expected. When Siren's feet left the ground, she knew she was in trouble, and she watched the crowd stare on in awe before she was facing the ceiling.

It felt sort of like her shoulder blades outright collapsed when she hit the ring apron off the suplex, and she hit hard enough that her breasts displaced the bottom rope while her legs bounced off of the top ones. When her legs fell back down to the apron, they nearly dragged her off the side of the ring altogether, and it was all she could do to roll on her side and grip at the point of her landing's impact.

[BlackAkuma]

It had been an impressive feat when Alicia managed to get Angela up for the belly-to-belly, and while it might have seemed less so when the Italian tried to do the same in reverse, she could attest that it wasn’t as simple as all that. While she might have been the bigger woman, the Hollywood Siren was, by no definition, ‘small’, and getting up on that apron was no easy task. She’d had to throw her higher than usual just, recruiting more of her back muscles than in a usual belly-to-back suplex, and given what she had been through over the past several minutes, it took its toll.

You could see it on her face, despite her efforts to cover herself with a stoic mask, the fatigue starting to sink its way in. She kept upright, but only thanks to a quick hand on the ring’s edge, supporting her. She would be okay for now, but she had to be mindful of how much she had left to give as this went on.

The results spoke for themselves, with Alicia looking like she was in all kinds of pain on the apron. Angela couldn't resist reaching over and giving her a quick smack on the back. ”Warned you about the back.”

As much as she wanted to get in a couple more verbal jabs while she recovered, she knew the luxury just wasn’t there. That suplex had done some good, but she wasn’t ready to be pinned, not just yet. One more, maybe? Worth a shot.

Moving over to Alicia’s side, she pushed her opponent back into the ring, muscling her in under the bottom rope, and slid in behind. She grabbed hold of the Latina’s head as she rose and stood up, forcing her to rise along with her. As soon as she was up, Angela went into action, ducking low and slipping her head under the woman’s shoulder once more, while her arms wrapped around her from the front, this time.

She braced herself, dipped down, and proceeded to launch Alicia once more, this time with a Northern Lights Suplex. Looking for damage, but that wasn’t the main idea - no, she held her position after the impact, posted up on her tiptoes and went for a pinfall, trying to see just how much she could get out of the Hollywood Siren.

[HotWheels]

With all the fallen beauty's back had taken during the match, she only groaned in irritation at the smack on her back. Nothing short of another landing like that could make it hurt more than it already did; she didn't want to test that even if she figured it was true. She longed for someone to take a fuckin' rolling pin up and down her spine and the dimpled muscles that framed it, but there wasn't anyone around who would be doing that. Had to figure out a way to deal with it, get up, and get back some control, else Mama was going to have herself a field day. It still didn't cripple her. The Siren wouldn't let a thing crippler her tonight.

So she started up, pushing on one hand, after Mama rolled her into the ring. And Angela's grab of her head was help but no help. The Hollywood hottie wrapped a strong hand around the woman's wrist, but in reality, she didn't stop her from getting her up. She just needed to woman up, power through whatever came her way once she was on her feet. Better than trying to play flat on the mat.

Mama grabbed her once she was on shaky feet, and the arm that Siren planned to use to club her got caught up in the muscular veteran's strong arms. The big Latina almost, almost turned to a headbutt, but the Italian's head wasn't there, either. Fuckin' perfect. By the time she thought to try and get a knee lifted, she was being lifted, and the Siren roared out in both anticipation of another shock of pain and in frustration as her world flipped. Again her back landed, and this time, Siren draped over the canvas like one of the distressing damsels she hated in stories.

There she lay, aware yet not aware as the crowd chanted, but she didn't come back out of her own little realm of pain until she heard the referee and crowd both yelling two. It took another third of a second, but Siren lashed out with a reserve of strength, getting her shoulders up and borderline punching at Angela's ankle to get her off of the top of her.

Fucking ow.

[BlackAkuma]

”1…!”

Angela knew this wasn’t going to work. At least, she would’ve been greatly surprised if it did. On top of being a tough woman, she could see that Alicia was an extremely stubborn and tenacious one. Excellent traits in a wrestler, and ones that she hoped her daughter could emulate. While this woman’s attitude had initially rubbed her the wrong way, more and more she was seeing aspects that she could admire, things that wouldn’t have been apparent if she’d settled on simply talking it out in the gym. This was much more elucidating. And yes, fun. Wrestling with Alicia had been the best decision.

”2…!”

Still no sign of a life yet. Had that little flurry left her more rocked than Angela realized. She would’ve hated the match to end so soon, after the great rally Alicia had made of the past few moments. It seemed like the Latina was only beginning to find her stride and break out the heavy artillery.

And there it was. The kickoff. Just in time.

Angela breathed in relief along with the Hollywood Siren, glad that her opponent still had a good deal left to give. Now, the onus was on her to keep applying pressure, to figure out what could do the job, and she had a perfect idea on that front.

She rolled to the side after the kickout and wrapped her arm around Alicia’s head, forcing her to stand up with a headlock. ”Alzarsi, bambina.” She chided the younger wrestler like a mother trying to wake her unruly child in the morning, a tone she had much experience with.

The moment she was up, Angela would release the hold, step back, swing her arm out, and hit Alicia in the chest with a knife edge chop. Not just any chop, either - a pure, 100% pro wrestling, old-school chop, the kind that would make the referee’s ears ring and echo all the way outside the arena.

[HotWheels]

If there was one part of the Hollywood beauty's climb to get to this level of the wrestling world that she hadn't been prepared for, it was tanking hits like this. Some training got too fuckin' patty-cake, and some opponents and sparring partners, no matter how many times she had told them to let loose, just held back. Mama was not holding back, and Siren didn't want her to. She just wished someone else had the guts to try and kick her fine ass into next Tuesday before it had to happen in front of this crowd on this stage.

But, she had done what she needed in the immediate. A nice victory to offset the sucky way her body felt. Having bowled through the pin attempt, Siren kept a flow of momentum, knowing that the longer she lay on the mat, the more she would focus on her ailments. She rolled over onto her stomach before softly punching the canvas with both fists and starting to rise. Mama came to help again; how fucking kind of her. Siren would have fought that much harder to pry free, but having her head squeezed in that same headlock again made her drive her palms against Angela's elbow instead. Didn't free her any more now than it did earlier in the match. While she didn't have a clue what Mama said, she bit back. "Besa mi...culo."

She was ready to claw like Satan himself held her by the head to avoid another suplex, but Mama let her go. Left on slightly unsteady feet, Siren reeled back from her, but she didn't reel far enough. And if she didn't know any better, she would have thought a Viking's axe had smacked her across the chest if not for the sound of flesh on flesh that made the crowd call out in awe.

Lit up by the chop, Siren stumbled back, clutching at her chest almost all the way to the ropes. She got her feet back underneath her before she fell back. The stinging that lingered after the initial impact didn't want to subside, but at this point, the Latina didn't care. With a curl of her lip, she forced herself through it and launched herself back at Angela with a burst of renewed energy, almost as if the chop had awoken her, and she leveled her own swing at Angela in the form of an overhanded chop.

[BlackAkuma]

Angela wasn’t a linguist, but she learned something important about the Spanish and Italian languages, today: ‘culo’ translated to the same thing with both of them.

She discovered this as she lifted the Hollywood Siren up, and while she didn’t catch the first part of what she saw thanks to the growing roar of the crowd, she could make a reasonable guess what that word came on the heels of. A little rude, but she wouldn’t take it personally. Though maybe she did add a little pepper to her chop because of that.

Alicia had more chest than most women, which meant more canvas for Angela to paint on than usual. Her blow landed clean, a flush hit that slashed across the Latina’s chest, and the reaction told the story. Her opponent was driven to the ropes, clutching her chest while the audience looked on and gasped. It wasn’t every day that they saw a hit like that around here.

Her daughter included. ”Aw, come on, not there!”

Angela didn’t want to think too much about why her daughter protest damage in that particular area, and she was thankful to have a distraction. Sure enough, her chop had lit a fire in the feisty Latina - or, more likely, thrown some gasoline on the one that was already burning. She was coming back, and the Italian giantess was ready for the return fire.

Or so she thought. She had to admit, she wasn’t expecting Alicia’s chop to hurt quite as much as it did, with the stinging slap crashing into her chest, just above the breasts. A shriek came out of Angela’s mouth, unbidden, and she shook her head, trying to keep it clear as she looked back at her foe. Even with the pain, a wild grin graced her features. ”Good.” She nodded. ”But mine is better.”

As if to prove it, she leaped back to Alicia with an Amazonian war cry and let loose with another chop, this one backed up by her forward momentum, making sure to target just above the same spot she’d hit a moment ago.

[HotWheels]

Damn if that hadn't hurt, but damn if the Hollywood hottie (who probably looked more like those drunk stars on TMZ at this point) didn't want to blast that same hole into Angela's chest. Apparently her hit had done something with the way the veteran yelped; good because the Latina delivering it almost threw herself on the ground with the effort. The legs on full display pouring from her denim shorts were her focus and pride when it came to striking, but there was enough strength in those hands and arms to flatten a middleweight. They had to be enough to give Mama pause.

It did, but not enough. Just as Siren straightened to glare her down, she caught the woman's grin and her cocky words before Mama dove. The big Latina caught another hand to the chest. More prepared for this one, the busty heavyweight flexed her chest and arms, but it still bit into the flesh of her squeezed-together breasts as capably as a switch. Again she reeled backwards, a grunt and some of her balance lost, but minus the grimace on her face that turned into a scowl at the searing pain, she didn't lose as much ground this time, dropping a couple of steps back (and listening to the crowd's sound of anticipation) before pushing back up onto her toes.

Fuck no. Mama wasn't going to just smack her down. With her own roar, the Californian willed herself forward even as reddened skin from the trauma spread along her cleavage. "Fuck-", she yelled, as she closed and her hand again came down with an overhead chop, weaker than the first. "no!", she added, showing why the first blow lacked the same power when she reeled back and instantly wound up for a second chop. She might not win this exchange, but she wanted to make it clear: Mama better take her head off if she wanted her to stop.