Typical Prey: The Beast vs. March "The Hare" Michel [Match Debut]

[DeVir]

March might have taken some comfort in hearing the crowd booing her six-pack being beaten out of her gut if it didn't hurt so badly. Even her racing mind couldn't come up with the last time her abs had been so abused; it had been either never or quite a while. Considering how much each new blow hurt her more and more and left her aching, she was inching toward never. "Quit it- quit!", she demanded in between cries, to no avail.

But her actions, not her words, did provide her a moment's reprieve. "God... shit..." She hunched long enough to rub at her stomach as if that would make it feel better before he had her by the chin and bent back over the top of the turnbuckle, struggling and squirming and forced to look at the lights above. This might have been sexy with a guy in a club somewhere or when her abs weren't burning, her distracted mind thought, for whatever reason. She tried to pull at his hand, and if she could know where the ref was watching, she might have tried biting it.

By the time she had nearly unhinged his hand, his hand unhinged her. Specifically, her breasts. She let out an undignified shriek as the crack of the chop rang out like a whip across her cleavage, and the blonde didn't have it in her to do much more than tense up in pain and flop her arms over the top rope.

[BlackAkuma]

Beauty wanted a scream, and a scream she received.

In her estimation, March had one of the better ones she heard. Something about the younger wrestlers, the sounds they made were always a joy to listen to. You could tell they weren’t quite accustomed to pain, didn’t have the fortitude that could only come from years of experience, and so they tended to react like, well…that.

Perfect tenor, perfect pitch. Music to her ears. Beast looked over for her approval as March languished against the ropes, and she gave it in the form of light applause and the slimmest of smiles.

With that treat thrown his way, Beast’s confidence surged, looking back to his opponent and giving her a quick pat on the shoulder. ”I’ll be right back.”

He gave March a petty slap on the cheek, then took off in a rush away from her, heading towards the opposite corner at full speed. Beast spun about at the last second, slammed his back against the pads, and then took off towards her, sprinting like a madman across the ring, so fast that the referee had to rush out of the way. He moved in and leaped high as he closed in, coming at March with arms wide open to hammer with his full weight, crushing her with a devastating splash.

[DeVir]

This sucked.

March had to shake all this punishment off and get her head back in the game, but for a second or two, she couldn't motivate herself to move her beaten and chopped torso to do more than straighten and lessen the aches. She peered down at the stretch of red skn. That didn't look... too bad, right? But god, she couldn't go through another round of this. She had to jab his eye out or knee him in the crotch or..

He smacked her on the shoulder and the cheek just as she looked up at him with her diabolical plan in mind, and her blank and overwhelmed stare regained some of its fire. She started to push off, to reach for him, but he left her there. Just left her there. "Yeah you better run, you-" March couldn't think of an insult. It was a better use of her time to wrap both arms around her body and will it into feeling better.

But he was coming, wasn't he? She heard the footsteps shaking the ring nearby. O- kay he was fast too. Faster than almost anyone she had fought if he could cross the ring that quickly. But she had the preservation sense and the time (it surely didn't look like enough time, but it was for her) to reel back, get her bearings, and push off the ropes to sidestep. She avoided him only because he had leaped, and she watched him splash a turnbuckle instead of a March.

It was her break. She grimaced, but as he rebounded from the impact, March held to the top rope for balance and aimed a swinging foot at the small of his back.

[BlackAkuma]

Beast had already gotten the scream that Beauty requested, but now he was thinking about what his mistress might want to go along with it. She was a woman who appreciated him most when he went further beyond, liked it when he tried to go for special credit, and he was always eager to please and get his treats in return. While he could certainly go for the win after two or three more moves, he needed to stretch this out—just a little.

Camel Clutch? Too pedestrian.

Sharpshooter? Might make her tap out too soon and end the fun.

The surfboard stretch seemed like the best idea to him. Something that would not only keep her from tapping, but put her pert little body on display for Beauty to enjoy. As a bonus, it was a move he’d used on her in their match, years ago. She would appreciate the callback.

These were things on Beast’s mind as he came rushing back to March, instead of the one thing they should’ve been on: the woman herself. As it turned out, he’d underestimated how worked over she was. She still had enough energy to avoid him as he came, leaving him with nothing but pads to crash into, rattling his sternum. She followed it up with a swift kick to the small of his back, one that stung down to the bone.

It was Beast’s turn to cry out now, a hoarse croak that rang through the arena. If she thought that was enough to keep him down, however, she would learn different, as Beast through his arm out her way with a wild, blind blow, trying to catch her in the face.

[DeVir]

"Ugh."

March's groan was not what anyone would expect from a competitor after she kicked her opponent in the back, but the motion made the Hare's beaten stomach hurt in at least four different places. Not a cause for celebration. But hearing him cry out did get the juices flowing again. March psyched herself up with a tiny battle cry and clench of both fists. And she found her tongue again, not that it had ever gone anywhere.

"Yeah, that's what happens to big lugs who - woooooo!" Her words melded into some unknown sound of surprise as he swung at her, and again March possessed the bounciness and reflexes to react, much like her namesake. She threw her shoulders low (an action her body did not thank her for) and ducked under his swing. With an unnatural spring in her step, she popped back out of that ducking motion with power and momentum behind her.

She used it to leap in place, twist her body in the air, and blast out with a two-legged dropkick meant for that same part of his back. Of course, she fell after she kicked at him, which felt like hell... but hopefully he had absorbed far worse.

[BlackAkuma]

Despite her man having a bad moment in the ring, you wouldn’t have known it to watch Beauty’s face. She kept it serene and placid, as if she were merely watching a movie she’d seen a hundred times and was only mildly amused by. While she wanted her husband to win, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he lost - honestly, she could use it as an excellent excuse to punish him when they returned home. It had been too long since they’d had a good overnight session, and this would be a fantastic excuse.

However, Beast was much less optimistic about the experience, as his errant blow wound up hitting absolutely nothing but empty air. He was about to move in and try a follow up, when March lived up to her nickname and bound upwards at an insane speed, hammering him in the chest with her barefeet and smashing him up against the turnbuckle pads.

The compounded blow was enough to knock the air clean out of him and he flopped forward, taking his hardest hit of the match so far, an obvious demonstration of what his opponent could really do. While it was hardly a game-ender, he figured a temporary retreat was in order. A chance to catch his breath and halt her momentum.

Beast rolled out under the ring, landed on his feet, and stepped away from it. He shook his head, controlling his senses for the moment, trying to get it together.

Just a little breather. No big deal. He still had this.

[DeVir]

If March had jostled every sore muscle in her gut on the landing (and she had, no need for the crowd to wonder), she didn't show it. Her face did, a big, toothy grimace breaking through her pink-painted lips, but her body spun back into motion. She reached her feet and thought the Beastie Boy remained close enough nearby for her to mock, deride, and hit again, so she started up the chatter again as she whirled to the turnbuckle.

"Not so fun anymore, is it!? If I gotta-" Oh. Of course. He had left. March's irritation shone through her body language, her shoulders slumping and her hands propping on her hips. She didn't slump for long since it sent pain through her abs. "You better run!" There. Finished what she wanted to say earlier.

Being beaten to death in the corner, the crowd hadn't gotten a full picture of what March had to offer. She spun, and before any of them could blink again, she had already made it most of the way to the opposite ropes with three steps that were blisteringly fast for someone a little taller and heavier like her. And that was with her a modicum slower than usual because of the pain in her gut.

She bounced off and somehow moved even faster on the way back, but not so fast that she couldn't throw in a wave at the Beauty at ringside. A yard before the ropes nearest to the Beast, she planted a foot, leaped, and cleared the second rope. "HaHAAAAA!" ...And the top rope, just barely, as she flipped ass-over-teakettle until her ass was on a crash course with Beast's upper body, leaving no doubt of two things:

She was a special brand of crazy, and that speed and athleticism was what made her the big bucks.

[BlackAkuma]

Okay, Beast could admit, he’d gotten a little carried away there. Underestimating March had been something of a mistake on his part, getting taken off by her siller demeanor and getup. She was a profoundly silly girl - calling her ‘woman’ somehow didn't seem fitting - but that didn’t mean she couldn't hurt him. There was some deceptive power in those legs, and he would be feeling it in his chest for days.

He took a powder outside the ring, catching her breath as he looked at Beauty from the side of his eyes. She sat there, gazing at him with her usual unwavering gaze, as if nothing about this surprised her. It was slight, but she didn’t need to say a word. The nonverbal communication spoke volumes. Pay attention, little idiot. Disappoint me, and there will be consequences.

He sighed, nodded, and stood straight up—time to get back to business. Beauty did have an actual spoken word for him this time, though. ”Eyes up.”

She pointed upwards, Beast followed her direction, and found himself confronted with a flying March, soaring through the air with the greatest of ease, a big, pink projectile coming straight for him. He got his hands up on reflex, but he might as well have tried to stop a gun with tissue paper. The woman slammed into her, ass straight in his face, and he took a hard fall to the ground, rolling until he smacked against the announcer’s desk, stopping beneath Beauty’s feet.

Groaning, aching, he could only look up as she stared down at him, bemused. ”I’m sorry, mistress.”

”Yes.” She shook her head and brought her foot away from him, as if he wasn’t even worth the honor of being close to the lowest part of her body. ”Yes, you are.”

[DeVir]

March couldn't have dreamed of better.

Not with the delivery anyway. The way he turned and the whooping cry from the crowd informed her that his face had taken the force of her dropping ass just like nature had always intended. "Hah!" Used to landing on bodies, she enjoyed the telltale signs of his crumbling beneath her. But the fun part ended there, and even March, a consistent D student back in school, knew that a crumbling body didn't give gravity much to work with when it came to the nature of her landing.

She plopped down with a yelp on the middle of her spine, and she might have thought she had cracked it if she hadn't landed like that hundreds of times and emerged with no more than bruises. But knowing she would be okay didn't make the immediate pain any easier, and she tensed and huffed from the pain. "That's an ice pack," she muttered, but again, she didn't linger. A body in pain should stay in motion... or something. She had skipped that science unit. Gravity was more interesting.

He was lying at Morticia's feet, she found, when she sat up. Seeing the woman so close to the action sent March rushing to rise, and the California girl stared at her cosmetic opposite as she approached Morticia's... whatever. Boy toy? "I won't break anything that's important to you," she told her, as she scurried close enough to grab him by the arm and pull him a few inches further away, so the woman couldn't blindside her. "Unless you're into that. I take requests. I'm cool like that."

Having not taken a hit (from him anyway) for long enough that her dismissiveness and boldness had returned, she kept staring at the woman as she used that grip on his arm for some good. She pulled the arm between her legs as she dropped on her ass, and with one foot planted on his neck and one on his ribs, she yanked on it, hoping to hyperextend it, before letting go.

[BlackAkuma]

As Beast languished beneath her feet, Beauty idly mused what his punishment might be when they returned to the dungeon. It had been a little while since she’d busted out the candles, so she was tempted to try out the new set she’d bought, but it couldn't just be that. Tease and denial was the best way to force some contemplation, in her experience. Strip him, tie him to the bed, work him up to full hardness, just before the climax, and then…nothing. She’d go to sleep on the other side of his reach, just beyond where he could touch, leaving him to wallow. Any protests and she would put in the ball gag. The big, black one he hated.

Beauty was brought out of her thoughts when she heard the increasingly familiar voice of March, as the girl approached to continue her offense. She made no moves towards her, barely even looked her way, as if her existence only warranted the minimum level of attention. That was all a front, of course - March was very much in the forefront of her mind at the moment. She had to admire the young wrestler’s boldness, her verve, already recovering from the beating this had started out as and taking on that braggadocious swagger.

She did seem a tad worried that Beauty might actually do something to interfere, though, as she seemed intent on moving Beast away to a safe distance. Understandable, given how frequent interference was in these matchups, but needless. ”There’s no need for that. I’m not going to hurt you, кролик.” She tilted her head to the side, just a few degrees. ”Today.”

She let those words hang as March went about her business, seizing Beast’s arm as he laid prone, capturing it between her leg, and falling back to hyperextend it, a move that sent electricity crackling all the way up his shoulder. Viktor growled and rolled away, doing his best to suppress the screams as he squirmed about on the canvas. That one had hurt him, truly, and Beauty had to admire the tactic. Beast’s greatest assets were his fists, March had seen that firsthand, and now she was trying to take one of them away and even the playing field. A sage move.

Beast recognized that, as well, though he was less impressed and more aggravated by the revelation. He rolled over to his knees and started to push his way up, but with one of his arms inoperable for the moment, it was slowing going, leaving him open in the process.