Kuroi Kamikaze vs. Sheila Morgan III: WAR!

[BlackAkuma]

***
Match Type
Hell In A Cell Hardstyle Hentai Iron Man POW
Victory Conditions
The winner will be determined by whoever can score the most pinfalls, submissions, or orgasms within a thirty minute time limit.
No Disqualifications, No Count-Outs
***

I ______________ , being of sound mind and body, hereby affirm that I will participate in a Hell In A Cell match. I do so will full knowledge that such a match carries with it the possibility of suffering a number of injuries, which include but are not necessarily limited to: concussions, broken bones, bleeding, lacerations, third, second, and first degree burns, electrification, smothering, strangulation, whiplash, bruising, defenestration, and immolation. I am fully aware that the League of Anime Wrestling™, will not be held legally liable for any injuries that I sustain while inside the structure.

I___________________ also affirm my knowledge that this match will feature a Prisoner of War stipulation. This will give the winner of this contest the right of physical ownership over their opponent after the conclusion of the match, for a period of _______________. I am fully aware that during this period, I waive personal rights to the victor of the match, and that the League of Anime Wrestling™ cannot be held legally responsible for any injuries that I incur during this time, be they physical, mental, spiritual, metaphysical, metaphorical, rhetorical or of any nature heretofore unmentioned.

I also affirm that, in conjunction with my health plan, I will receive blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

X__________________

Sheila’s eyes glazed over as she went through the last part of the document, and she was all too quick to sign on the dotted line and hand the clipboard off to the stagehand. She understood the point of all this legal stuff, would’ve saved her a lot of headaches back when she was running Outback Wrestling. But right now, she wished they’d brought it to her sooner. Legalese was the last thing she wanted on her mind, right now.

No, her thoughts were focused on one thing and one thing alone, the same thing they’d been centered on for the past week: this match, and all the stakes that came along with it.

Sheila stood in front of the curtain, bouncing from foot to foot, hyping herself up as the crowd raged outside. LAW had done as good a job as could be expected promoting this match with only a week’s notice, and from the sound of things, their efforts weren’t in vain. She and Kuroi had already put on two hellish bouts, and the fans were eager to see if they could top both of their previous affairs. With the cage to work with, no rules to holds them back, and plenty of time to score multiple falls, Sheila thought the chances were high.

But, of course, that wasn’t why she was there. She hadn't come out today to put on a show, or look good for the fans, or to be their entertainment. This wasn’t a match, as far as she was concerned. It was war. A war that she intended to win, by any means necessary. No matter what, this thing with Kuroi was ending tonight, and she was putting her body on the line to make sure it happened.

The light came up, the music dropped. It was time.

96 Quite Bitter Beings

Sheila Morgan

Sheila came through the curtain and marched her way down to the ring, lacking any of her usual flair, making sure to save as much energy as possible. The crowd roared along with her every step, but she kept things cool and focused, only raising her head as she neared the bottom of the ramp. She took a pause at the end, looking up to see the metal structure about her head, hanging there like a guillotine ready to drop. This was it, the point of no return - once she stepped into that ring, there’d be turning back.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Clench the fists, clench the teeth. Eyes closed, eyes open.

Sheila was ready.

She made her way up the stairs, slipped through the ropes, tossed her jacket off to the side and took her spot at the center of the ring, waiting for her music to die down and for Kuroi’s to begin.

[PuroQueen]

Kuroi had always viewed her former master as nothing more than an old man and a buffoon, even before her ousting from the dojo only a few short years ago. Her childhood and teenage years had been spent high among the mountaintops, studying what was supposed to be the deadliest art known to man. Yet, her master was more concerned with filling her head with cryptic proverbs and lengthy anecdotes than he did with the sacred act of fighting. Kyuketsu, the lethal and secretive style that Kuroi would come to wield with unwavering wrath, had been drip-fed to the impatient pupil as a result. Disillusioned with her teachers, Kuroi took it upon herself to learn how to fight, and only how to fight. She attended every martial lesson without fail, but when it was time to philosophize and reflect, she hit bags. When students were supposed to be at the temple, she was in the dojo. Her elders chastised her at every step, dismissing her initiative as reckless abandon, sacrilege to what the martial arts held dear.

"To master one's body, but not one's mind, is paramount to spiritual suicide," they said. Rather than dissuade the disturbed fighter, those words only served to inspire Kuroi more than any ancient text ever could. And thus, Kamikaze was born - a force of nature that sought only to destroy, regardless of the mental toll it took. It wouldn't take long for the prophecy to unravel into that one self-evident truth. Only a few years had passed since her ousting, but one look at Kuroi's perturbed expressions or the disturbing ramblings from her lips was enough to know her mind had withered far beyond simple eccentricity. Sheila could attest to that much, to say the least.

Still, their warnings did not go entirely unheeded by the young fighter. The one activity that she did enjoy, the only one she would find solace in that required neither deadly application of fists nor feet, was...meditation.

And so, right now, moments before the biggest fight of her life, Kuroi meditated.

Legs crossed over one another, palms at her thighs, eyes closed as her chest heaved up and down with unnerving composure. Air seeped in through her nostrils, cooling her inner channels and passageways before exiting out of her mouth like a winter breeze. Despite the chaos of the arena, Kuroi's senses delved into utter darkness. Her mind cleared slowly, devoid of thought, not to push away feelings of anger and rage as she had once been taught, but rather to make room for them. For Kuroi, meditation wasn't a reprieve from carnage, it was the calm before the storm, the warrior's way of preparing for a battle that could only end in triumph - or death.

...

The arena plunged into darkness as Sheila completed her stoic entrance, the hum of the crowd dying down to a murmur. Anticipation hung in the air like a heavy blanket, palpable and intense. Suddenly, a solitary beam of light pierced the darkness, illuminating the top of the cell like a divine spotlight. And there, no longer concealed by the darkness of the rafters, sat Kuroi in her meditative trance. Her eyes remained closed, her body still as a statue, as if she were communing with a higher power. The beam of light accentuated the curves and lines of her body, casting deep shadows and sharp angles across her form. She seemed otherworldly, like a dark deity in her own right.

Kuroi Kamikaze

BABYMETAL- Distortion

ㅤ
As if on cue, Kuroi's eyes snapped open at the exact moment her entrance music began to play. It was her usual melody, except tonight it carried with it an even more haunting sense of gravitas and foreboding, one that filled the arena and sent equal bits fear and excitement coursing through the skin of all those who heard it. Kuroi rose to her feet slowly, arms spread wide like a demon about to take flight. There was a single trap door atop the cell, already open and directly overtop the center of the ring, but she would pay it no attention, instead reveling in the unmatched fervor of the crowd.

The cell began to descend, its metal grating screeching against the gears and chains that lowered it to the ground. Kuroi stood atop it, seemingly unafraid of the dizzying height or the potential danger below. Her eyes locked onto Sheila, who stood in the ring far below, and a feral grin spread across Kuroi's face. Rather than broadcast her position, the screens in the arena only played clips of highlights from their last few bouts, further adding to the distraction of her opponent and excitement of the crowd. For a rare second, Kuroi actually sympathized with her rival's obliviousness - it was the same naivety that had caught her off guard in their last match. After all, the last place you'd expect an underworldly creation like Kuroi to be was up above.

With one final, fluid motion, Kuroi leapt upwards, flipping midair in a soaring aerial act of grandiose proportions. Her body was briefly inverted high above the cage, arcing several meters above it's grated top surface in a feat that was equally brazen as it was beautiful. The flip would bring her directly through the trap door, which instantly closed on it's own accord as soon as her body soared through it and into the closed confines of their mutual hell. Her frame pummeled downwards at breakneck speeds, limbs still spread in the moonsault position before her body acted quick to brace itself. She reorientated herself midflight, tucking in her knees and point them downwards like spikes from above while her torso straightened itself out. Brutal, extreme, unforgiving - a small sampling of the words that could be used to describe Kuroi's diving knee drop, just moments away from crushing Sheila's head into the canvas with meteoric effect.

[BlackAkuma]

Kenji couldn't believe he’d gotten roped into this craziness twice.

The first time had been bad enough. That match with Sheila and Kuroi had been one of the most intense, debauched, disturbing experiences of his refereeing career, the sort of thing he wished he could’ve unseen. He’d never forget the things these two women had done to each other in that ring, what he’d been forced to watch, how insane they’d been and how close he’d come to be more of a participant than he ever wanted to be in a match like this. After it was done, he rested easy in the knowledge that as bad as that was, it had to be the zenith. There was no way he could be in a match that insane, ever again.

And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of the ring as a iron cage began to descend on them like the spectre of death. Somehow, he’d managed to pick the short straw again, and he was starting to wonder if there was some kind of conspiracy against him. He’d gotten no small amount of flak for his performance in the last match, with some in upper management saying he should’ve awarded the match to Kuroi. How putting him back with them was a good followup, he couldn't quite figure out. Maybe this just punishment? If either of the wrestlers turned their attention to him, there wouldn’t be much he could do, not without revealing his wrestling training. Even if he did, his training with the Young Lioness program hadn't nearly brought him to the level where he could challenge either of these women in a fight. Right now, his plan was just to stay as far away from the carnage as possible until he was needed.

He was also wondering one more, important detail - where was Kuroi, anyway?

Her music was playing, but the woman herself was absent, and he could see that was dawning on Sheila as well. The Aussie was looking about, confused, not sure where to expect her psychotic opponent. There was no chance in hell that she would miss this match, so she had to be somewhere. But where would she-

Kenji couldn't say where Kuroi came from. It was almost like she materialized out of thin air, nowhere one moment and everywhere the next. Sheila definitely didn’t see her coming, and she wound up taking the brunt of her attack, getting hit from above and driven to the mat with brutal force. She slammed into the canvas, full force, and for a wild second Kenji thought she’d been knocked out clean, the first fall of the match - but he knew better when she started moving and pushing her way up. Not unconscious, but not all the way there, either.

”What-” She rubbed her face spat some blood off to the side. ”What the fuck-”

[PuroQueen]

"Death-defying" was the only phrase that did justice to what should have been a career-ending move for both attacker and victim. The force of the impact shook the entire arena, causing the metal cage to vibrate and hum as it met the ground. Kuroi's knees smashed into Sheila's head with a sickening crack, the sound of bone and flesh colliding echoing throughout the stadium. Kuroi's body was a blur of motion, limbs flailing outward as she landed, short hair whipping around her like flames.

Never in her life had Kuroi Kamikaze ever felt so deserving of her moniker.

Like a ragdoll tossed aside, Kuroi's body tumbled and thrashed before coming to a stop not far from the center of the ring. Had Sheila had the presence of mind to dodge the attack, even by half a foot, Kuroi would have found herself crippled on the cold, unforgiving canvas. But fortune favored the bold, and as luck would have it, Sheila's upper body had luckily been exactly where it needed to be while also providing just enough cushioning to stave off any debilitating injuries.

Kuroi pushed herself onto her knees, letting out a loud cry of pain that quickly gave way to a more motivated snarl. She thumped her fists against her chest like a rabid animal, glaring as the outline of her opponent's body finally came back into focus. She crawled towards her with manic desire, panting and growling, eager to inspect the damage. It wasn't until Kuroi closed the distance that she realized that not only was Sheila still alive, but she was even managing to stir. Kuroi wasted no time in silencing her opponent, driving her knee forward into Sheila's skull once again to shatter whatever semblance of awareness still existed in the blonde.

Kuroi let her knee follow through with the attack, driving Sheila's face into the mat and pressing down with all the force she could muster. A cowering figure caught her attention from the corner of her eye, causing the crazy fighter to snap her head to the side and nearly bark at the gaping referee, before quickly issuing him a double-take once she realized who it was that was officiating their match.

"Hey... I remember you!" Kuroi said with a look that was hard to decipher. Her eyes continued to bore into Kenji's while her knee shifted to Sheila's throat instead, searing the girl's upper half deeper into the canvas. Half of her wanted to pounce at the man as well, make him pay for what was obviously a screw-up, or a work, or whatever the fuck was responsible for the debacle in their last match. But much more pressing matters awaited. Namely, the one beneath her leg.

"Well, what are you gawking at? Ring the bell, boy! AND START THE COUNT!" Kuroi screamed, shifting nearly all of her weight into Sheila's throat to keep the girl pinned and secured for an early fall.

[BlackAkuma]

”1…!”

What the fuck?

Sheila blinked her way back into existence all at once, coming back to reality with a start as she tried to process what the fuck had just happened to her. It all came back to her bit by bit, like a puzzle fitting together. She had been in the ring, waiting, looking up the ramp as Kuroi’s music played. It was taking a little longer than usual - too long, she’d thought, so she suspected that something was up. After the way things had kicked off last time, she wouldn’t have been surprised if the lunatic tried to even the score with her own bum rush, but no, that wasn’t what was happening here.

Sheila had been crouched, ready to pounce, expecting Kuroi to show up at any moment, and then everything just went…dark. The audience had been getting hyped about something, but before she could figure out what, there was this explosion of pain on the back of her neck, and the next thing she knew she was on the floor and someone was counting.

” 2…! “

She was being pinned. Sheila could vaguely put that together through the haze, though there were gaps in her short memory, like how she’d gotten down here and when she’d placed in the predicament. She didn’t even remember hearing the bell ring, though she was sure that it should’ve happened at some point. All that mattered now, though was escaping. All she had to do was lift up her shoulders, and…

…and…

…shit.

”3…!”

Sheila clenched her teeth and hissed as the first fall slipped away, too wiped out at the moment to do much more than twitch. Definitely not the start she’d been picturing in her head.

Kuroi: 1
Sheila: 0

29:52

[PuroQueen]

It was hard to tell if Sheila was still even conscious at this point. Not that the answer to that question would alter Kuroi's intentions. Her knee was still pressing down into her opponent's neck with the same amount of force she would have given any thrashing foe. Even if Sheila had all her wits about her, it would have been a tough feat indeed to squirm her way out of this one. Kuroi's tongue swiped along her lips as the count neared its end, her toned abdomen shiny and glistening beneath the spotlights.

"Three!" It was a number Kuroi never thought she'd be so happy to hear. How many times had she pinned Sheila in their previous matches? How many times had the girl bucked, squirmed, or kicked her way out? It wasn't even worth wallowing about. All that mattered was now, and how only after a few seconds into their match, Kuroi had already earned that fabled number. If she'd known all it took to pin this bitch was a life-risking dive from twenty feet up in the air, Kuroi would have done it a lot sooner.

Luckily there was still plenty of time to play with her prey. But first...

"Lookie here! The bitch still breathes!" Kuroi hissed at her downtrodden opponent, finally lifting her knee off of Sheila's neck in place of a more commanding grip around the woman's blonde hair. With a harsh yank, Kuroi dragged her opponent so that they were both on their knees. Her other hand latched onto Sheila's chin, snapping the girl's head in the direction of one of the arena's looming screens. Her fingers inched down Sheila's scalp, prying the woman's half-closed eyes wide open so she could get a better look at the scoreboard through the metal cell. "You see that cunt! Kuroi... one, Sheila... zero. How high do you think that number gets before you're begging me to just kill ya already, huh? I don't know 'bout you, but I'm hoping for double digits!" Kuroi giggled in her usual psychotic pitch.

For seemingly no rhyme or reason at all, Kuroi threw herself at her opponent lips first, forcing her way through Sheila's mouth and into a world of oral sweetness. Her tongue lashed madly around the brawler's mouth, slobbering and licking every inch of the girl's inside while driving them even closer with the grip she held over Sheila's hair. Once she had gotten her fill, Kuroi pulled out with a satisfying smack, a bridge of saliva still connecting their lips. "Well then, let's not dilly-dally!" Kuroi said, the lunatic glint in her eyes explaining the oddly whimsical tone. Without waiting for a response, Kuroi would reel Sheila's head back one more time before slamming her face-first into the canvas!

Leaving her to opponent contend with the pain, the mad martial artist slowly made her way to her feet. She loomed over her rival, hopping from foot to foot while she relished in Sheila's groans. But even that was beginning to get old. "Oh c'mon, get up... I SAID GET THE FUCK UP BITCH!" Kuroi screamed, spittle flying down into her opponent. While the idleness may have appeared to be an inkling of reprieve, Kuroi actually had much more cruel intentions. For as soon as Sheila began to stir, the livid red-head would attempt to smash her foot into Sheila's face, and send her useless body tumbling along the mat with her sinister Graveyard Puntkick!

Spoiler

[BlackAkuma]

On her back, nearly knocked out, already sporting a busted lip, down by one point before the match was even a minute old.

Yeah, Sheila could safely say this was off to a fucking shite start.

She grimaced - more so than she had been because of the knee on her neck - when she heard the count reach three. She knew that this was inevitable, that there was no way she could go thirty minutes in an environment like this Kuroi Fuckin’ Kamikaze and not take at least one fall, but there was a difference between knowing something was going to happen and actually experiencing the fuckery. Plus, she damn sure didn’t imagine it would be happening this early in the match. Cheap-shotting, smug-ass bitch.

Being honest, though, she was mostly mad that she hadn't thought to kick the match off like that. She’d have to keep that in mind if they ever let her have an HiaC ever again.

Still more than a little out of it, all Sheila could do was cough and sputter as the knee was taken off her neck and replaced with a hard grasp on her hair. Having her mane yanked was something she was normally used to - growing it long, she kind of asked for it. But there was something about Kuroi’s grip that dug deep, made it far worse than usual. She seized her head like she owned, like Sheila was just some toy for her to play with. The worst part was knowing that the bitch probably did think, to some crazy degree.

Sheila was well aware of the count, but being reminded like this only drove the knife in deeper. ”And I’m hoping you get hit by a bus, you nasty, fucking-”

The all too familiar sensation of Kuroi’s kiss interrupted her, as the madwoman once again plunged in to claim her mouth. Though she was getting some sense back, Sheila still didn’t have the power in her to resist, and all she could do was feebly struggle in the fighter’s grasp and roar her disapproval down her throat. She gasped after they parted ways, just trying to suck in enough air to take full breaths.

Sheila’s face was introduced to the canvas, slammed hard with an impact that left her seeing spots. Groggy and stunned, she wallowed there for a few seconds, trying to catch her bearings, as Kuroi did her stupid dance. Bitch was too happy with herself, but she had every reason to be. Sheila was one down, so she had to get up, had to press the fight, couldn't afford to just sit back and let this get even worse…

She pushed up, planted her fists on the mat and rose. Upwards and onwards, higher and higher, and then-

Boot to the head. Fuck.

The blow landed right on her eye and sent her flopping back, coming down hard on her back. She stayed there for a few seconds, too, before her senses returned to her and she rolled over, clutching her face and groaning. ”You-” Sheila spat off to the side, leaving a glob of blood on the white canvas. One drop, many more to come. ”You’re a shite kisser, you know that?”

[PuroQueen]

Kuroi watched Sheila tumble, sneering down at her with sadistic glee in her eyes. The fury that had consumed her just moments ago was now replaced with calm, calculated confidence. She was in complete control of the match, and they both knew it. Sheila had made a mistake by thinking that locking them in a cage would somehow put them on equal footing. There was no other place Kuroi felt more at home than in hell, and now, Kuroi was going to make sure Sheila knew it.

She approached her opponent with slow and heavy footsteps, stopping only to laugh at her opponent's gibe. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disappoint," Kuroi mocked, bending down to a low crouch right beside her disheveled rival. Her fingers cupped around Sheila's chin once again, lifting the girl's head upward just enough to make her bloody lip shine in the arena lights. "Maybe you'll like it better when my foot is shoved halfway up your ass, hmm? Or would you rather I save that part for tonight" Kuroi said coolly, her eyes too busy wandering down the length of Sheila's body as she spoke.

Kuroi broke off her own sultry gaze with a harsh shove to Sheila's body, undoing any efforts to upright herself by forcing the blonde on her side. Without another word, Kuroi's knee would place itself along the familiar nook on Sheila's neck, pressing down with enough force to keep the woman uncomfortably pinned to the mat.

Snatching her opponent's nearest arm, Kuroi would bend it upright and perpendicular to the rest of her body, already putting a massive amount of pressure on Sheila's shoulder socket. But that was only the start of the horrendous joint manipulation. Kuroi's fingers would mesh with Sheila's digits, interlocking in a grip that was cold and cruel. Her other hand would push against Sheila's elbow, keeping the limb straight and unable to bend in on itself for relief. Her fingers would then yank and twist at Sheila's joints, rotating and bending her arm in all sorts of unsightly directions.

Meanwhile, her knee continued to dig into the side of Sheila's neck and face, determined to make each groan and whine as labored as possible. "Hey Sheila, got any tips for me in the ass-kicking department? C'mon babe, speak up! I'm aaaaall ears," Kuroi giggled with delight, all while continuing to painfully wrench her opponent's limb in her signature Wailing Wristlock!

Spoiler

[BlackAkuma]

This wasn’t over. Sheila could still pull this out of her ass and get back on top. The match had only just begun, there was plenty of time to turn a bad start around.

She just had no fucking idea how.

Kuroi had her closed to screw in multiple ways her, Sheila’s bell being thoroughly rung right from the outset and still feeling the effects. She kept sending orders to her body, but they were summarily ignored in favor of wallowing in pain. She was fairly sure that if she just had the better part of a minute, she could get her head on straight and mount some real offense, but that minute was a big ask when her opponent was hovering over her like a vulture over roadkill, making the situation worse with each attack.The only saving grace was that Kuroi wanted to draw this out instead of just pummeling her in the face for thirty straight minutes, and she was willing to bet that wouldn’t last.

Sheila didn’t need any reminders on the stakes, but if she had, she would’ve gotten them when her opponent came over and lifted her chin up, taking the time to flaunt her superior position. She would’ve loved to spit in the bitches face, and even tried to swish some saliva around for the effort, but she wasn’t able to store enough before Kuroi was back in action again, shoving her down and driving a knee in her neck.

As bad as it was, though, that wasn’t her target. Instead, she was focused on getting at the hand, and pulled it up into a tight, torturous grip, bending her wrist all out of proportion. The more Sheila flailed, the worse her position grew, with each twitch worsening the angle. Kuroi’s submission skills were once again on full display, as she threatened to pull Sheila’s hand clean off her body.

But, bad as this was, Sheila wasn’t wholly out of options. Her upper body might have been busy, but her lower limbs were free, even if they were at an awkward angle. Looking for a respite, she shifted as much to the side as she could threw her leg up, hoping to clock Kuroi in the face with a wild blow.

[PuroQueen]

Kuroi wasn't under the illusion that her opponent would submit under her current maneuver. Nor did she necessarily want her to. She was perfectly aware of Sheila's annoying pain tolerance, that much she had learned from the countless other significantly more complex holds she had trapped the brawler in. Nah, Kuroi pulled out the wristlock because she knew it hurt like a bitch. Not enough to send your average girl tapping - that would ruin all the fun - but just enough to make them think that if they held out long enough, then maybe they could squirm their way out of this. Nine out of ten times they were wrong, and Kuroi cranked that arm until she was bored with it. This was not one of those times.

She had taken Sheila's thrashing, bucking legs as obvious signs the girl was in distress, and for the most part, she was. Until one of those legs composed itself enough to straighten out and rocket shin-first right into the bridge of Kuroi's nose! The martial artist spit out a pained gargle as she stumbled back. Her mouth was grimacing, but her overall expression was oddly content. She knew it was only a matter of time before the rowdy cunt would be kicking and screaming. Nothing she couldn't deal with.

Kuroi wiped the back of her hand against her nose, offering nothing more than a disappointed sigh upon noticing it clean and devoid of blood. "Oh Sheila, I was being gentle with ya!" Kuroi hissed, a slight hint of annoyance in her voice. "Fine, if you want to do it the hard way - "

With little warning, Kuroi suddenly pounced forward, tackling Sheila back into the mat as she attempted to assert herself with an overtop mount!

If she had managed to secure her position, then Kuroi would immediately set about making her opponent pay for the small slight. With both hands clenched into iron-tight fists, Kuroi would begin raining down a barrage of brutal blows on her opponent's face, each one more pungent than the last. Her ground and pound would only increase in ferocity if Sheila chose to guard herself, fist poking and pounding into any gap, nook, or cranny that presented itself. Ever the versatile striker, Kuroi would throw in a few elbows into the mix. Her arm extended itself as far up as it would go before hammering down into the blonde's face with near-superhuman speed in the form of sharp, deadly elbow strikes threatening to spill even more blood!

Spoiler