Blaise Cameron vs Makie Akamatsu

[Underdoggo]

Blaise did not respond. Not verbally, at least; the guy seemed out of breath, dazed and exhausted as the countdown continued. But as Makie lay squarely against him, she felt his arm curl up around her bare waist, as though pulling her tightly into an embrace. Despite herself, Makie felt her breathing intensify and her heartbeat quicken, though that may have just been because the countdown was reaching nine.

And it got no further.

The man jerked underneath her, getting a shoulder up at the last second. Hissing in frustration, Makie knelt upright and wiped the sweat from her eyes. She had been so close...so close! As much as a part of her admired Blaise and his sheer and utter tenacity, she was also really annoyed by it. Given how much this match had been putting her through the ringer, she wanted to end it as soon as possible, and Blaise was just not cooperating in that regard.

Grabbing a hold of Blaise's head in both hands, Makie pulled him back up to a sitting position. "Should have stayed down," she growled, before delivering a snap kick into his chest, hoping to keep him winded as she tried to figure out how to attack him next!

[CyanDimitrik]

Fingers played listlessly along the small of her back while Blaise tried to pool his strength. By this point, he'd come to simply accept his desire for her, and frankly, there would be very little chance of actually hiding it from her to begin with. But despite that feeling, he's still deadset on pinning her down tonight for the full ten. All he has to do right now is hang on, in a very physical, possibly even literal sense.

As his head is taken and he's pulled to sit up, he slumps towards, his head hanging and sweat dripping from his hair. And even despite the moment, he can't help himself. He just can't. Hearing her make her ominous threat, he responds with a dryly glib, "And here I thought girls liked a bad boy." His head lifts just a little to try to shoot her a teasing, tired smile. No one in their right mind would ever accuse him of being a "bad boy", and he's very aware of that. But it's the reaction to the flirt that he's eager to see.

Whatever reaction he would or would not see, he received a hard clubbing of her foot across his pectoral muscles, instantly tensing against the impact and thumping back hard against the mat. "Ghn.." His right arm crosses his chest while he lies flat before her, eyes squeezed shut and jaw firmed.

[Underdoggo]

Makie found herself raising an eyebrow even as she lifted Blaise up into a sitting position. He was flirting with her. Even after the sheer pummeling the two had inflicted upon one another, and even though they were both still in a brutal fight, Blaise was taking the time to flirt with her. And rather cornily, at that.

All the same, it was enough to make her blush. Not enough, however, to stop her from driving her boot hard into Blaise's chest end flooring him again.

"One, if you think you're a bad boy, dream on," she breathed, yanking up on his hair again to pull him to a sitting position. "And two...I'll like you a lot more once I've pinned you!" So saying, Makie would run to the ropes behind Blaise and rebound off, running back towards Blaise and leaping forward, aiming to latch her legs around his head and drive him face-first into the mat for a stunner!

[CyanDimitrik]

Blaise is lifted to sit up again, dazed, hurting, and struggling to pool his strength and mount a comeback. The audience had collectively winced at the kick, but he's being goaded to hang in there.

He might have even had a quip or two for her in response to her assertions. In fact, he'd love to have said them! But reeling from the kick as he is, it just isn't fast enough. Moreover, as she darts away from him, so too do his chances of making any remark!

To his surprise, Makie's toned legs wrap around him, pulling him down against the mat face-first. His mind blanks out at the moment of impact, leaving him to lie facedown on the mat. His arms and legs give the occasional, sporadic twitch, some nerves firing, but he otherwise lies still.

[Underdoggo]

Makie both felt and heard the horrendous thump of Blaise's skull hitting the mat. Sitting up, she looked down at her handiwork and saw that Blaise was practically out like a light, lying facedown on the mat with no signs of life other than the occasional twitch of his leg. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest. She was doing it. She was winning this match.

It was time to set things up for the finisher.

Wearily and painfully, Makie moved over towards Blaise and grabbed his hair to yank him to his feet. Shifting her grip to his arm, Makie turned around and moved to whip her opponent towards the ropes.

Once Blaise came bouncing back, though, Makie would meet him with a leaping drop kick, aiming to nail him with a boot to the face. And from there, she would maintain her momentum and run past him to the corner post, ready to finish him once and for all with her signature moonsault finisher...

[CyanDimitrik]

The referee girl fusses uselessly on the sideline as hair is grabbed and pulled once more - technically illegal, but Hell if literally everyone doesn't do it anyway. Blaise looks completely out of it, dead on his feet as he's pulled up to his full height. His mind is a blank, save for the stinging in his scalp, the pounding ache in his head, his hurting abdominals, spine... the girl has worked him over in a serious way.

When she grabs his arm and twists, he's sent into a staggering run towards the ropes, body instinctively turning to press his back against the cables and launch himself forward again where he meets a pair of boots. They collide against his head, sending him down to the mat again. His body lands in full splay, arms dropped to either side, legs spread, toned, glistening torso lying taut under the heavy overhead lights. He would, in fact, make the perfect crashpad for Makie's finisher at this point. And all he can do in response is lie still, his brain registering only sparks of awareness at first.

She runs past him unabated.

He can feel the tremors in the mat as her boots thump along. He hears the clanging of the jostling turnbuckle springs and hooks. His eyes open, hazy and unfocused, but determined. With little more than raw willpower, he turns himself over onto all fours, staring down at the canvas. Knees tuck, and he pushes back. Once upright, he wobbles on his feet a couple steps back before turning to face Makie - her back turned to him, ready to leap.

She leaps. Her body arcs beautifully through the air, a testament to her athleticism. Her feminine figure shining with sweat, her body stretched with the intent to impact across his waiting form. But in that upside-down, in-flight moment when she's looking back, she'll realize he's on his feet. Her body slams against his inverted, and his arms clamp hard around her waist. Blaise staggers back a couple steps before catching himself on heel. And with a heavy hoist, he aligns her body against his. Her trim belly hugged tight against his firm pectorals; her soft breasts pressed into his sleek abdominals; her face captive against his hips; her hips just at mouth-level.

An unmistakable predicament, the tombstone piledriver. Blaise takes a moment to stabilize himself with her, his head tucking. Incidentally causing him to brush and nuzzle his face against her hips. Supporting her weight with one arm, he slides the other hand down her spine to between her shoulders, along the back of her neck, before sifting through her hair to push against the back of her head, forcing her face between his legs in preparation.

The moment isn't lost on him; the heat between their bodies, the desire for her, feeling her melded into him perfectly. She wouldn't be able to overlook it, thanks to the positioning. But he doesn't care at this point. He knows she knows. But he still needs to finish her. In a way, it's an affectionate moment - he wouldn't dream of disrespecting her enough to abandon this objective. They're warriors locked together.

[Underdoggo]

Makie is running on pure adrenaline now, her body trying to ignore the hurt inflicted by Blaise previously in their match. Climbing wearily up to the turnbuckle, she prepares to show the world her signature finishing move-- something she always wanted to do ever since seeing the likes of Valley Doll perform it on TV when she was much younger. She has been practicing this move for years now, and she's ready to use it to win this match. Raising an arm to the crowd, she gives a shout of "Ya-TAAA!" before springing off the turnbuckle.

She likes to believe her form is perfect, almost balletic, as she arcs backwards towards Blaise. The world seems to spin in slow motion...and it is then that she notices, as she descends, that Blaise is standing, his chiseled form swaying a little but still upright, and waiting for her...

She feels his arms wrap around her waist, and then suddenly she's suspended upside down, the blood rushing to her her as she's held upside down. For a moment, she's painfully aware of Blaise's warm breath against her thighs, of his damp abs pressed close to hers, of his thighs clamping on either side of her cheeks, forcing her to look up at his crotch. Her eyes shut as her face reddens in embarassment as well as exhaustion, as well as just from the undeniable feeling of physical contact between the two of them.

She squirms in his grip, trying to evade the finisher she knows is coming. In desperation, she balls a fist and tries to drill it into the side of that taut midsection, trying something, anything, to make him let her go...

[CyanDimitrik]

The collision of body against body in motion is a rather difficult thing to just supersede. Makie isn't the heaviest girl around by a longshot, but she's still over one hundred pounds of tight, feminine muscle with momentum behind it. The impact of her sweat-soaked body colliding with Blaise's was enough to stagger him back, having to catch himself on heel to stabilize the pair lest she send him toppling over onto his back with her atop. That would've been exactly the opposite of what he was hoping to accomplish.

But really, suggesting he was hoping to accomplish something is a bit generous. He's riding on impulse and willpower, with very little forethought to go with it. He knew he was in danger, knew he absolutely could not allow himself to be pinned tonight, and knew he had flappy, grabby arms to work with. That's the extent of Blaise's brainpower. Not impressive, but it's the kind of barbarian logic that's left when all else is stripped away. And barbarian tactics is just what Blaise needed.

Now, he stands near overwhelmed with the sensation of Makie's body aligned against his; the feel of her slick skin, her abdominals against his pectorals, her breasts against his abs, and perhaps most distinct now, the feel of her pretty face against his hips. Alas, for her, there would be even less potential for hiding his very physical attraction to her. It'd be unavoidable here. But now is no time to turn shy, and frankly, a part of him wants her to know he's into it - into her, attracted to her, wants her. Like a primal urge bubbling to the surface.

Pressing his face against her hips and arms closing tighter around her narrow waist, he weathers the shots she rains against his torso. No matter how hard she'd hit, he couldn't falter now. He couldn't let her go. He may get bruised and battered, but this is it - this is the moment she's put down. And with a hop in the air, Blaise squeezes his thighs against her head and drops, spiking the top of her skull against the mat with their combined bodyweight driving the momentum.

[Underdoggo]

Panic was setting in now as Makie realized the predicament she had just found herself in. Blaise had caught her, and was holding her upside down, poised to just drop her head-first into the mat. From this angle, and with Blaise's upper body strength, it was going to almost undoubtedly be a KO for her if the move landed. Even with her head being squeezed between Blaise's powerful thighs (feeling an undeniable bulge in the process), her face being mushed against his firm pecs and his warm breath against her thighs...in spite of all of those very considerable distractions, she still tried to fight her way clear. In desperation, she stared slamming punch after punch into those firm abs, furiously trying to make him let her go.

She didn't know if her punches were too weak at this stage in the match, or if Blaise was that determined, but her punches were doing nothing. She wasn't given long to wonder at this, though, as Blaise suddenly leapt upwards.

She felt the onrush of gravity, the lurch of her head moving downwards...

And then there was a horrible, jarring impact, and everything went dark. Like a marionette whose strings had been cut, Makie's red-clad body flopped down onto her back, her face still wedged between Blaise's legs, her chest rising and falling softly. Around them, the crowd went wild as the determined newcomer had seemingly, finally, been knocked out...

[CyanDimitrik]

All at once, the motion stopped. Time stood still. No resistance from the girl splayed out before him, no struggle to keep her in check - she was his. She felt like she was his; it only felt moreso for the fact that her pretty face was complacently pressed against his hips, a sensation not remotely lost to him. Cameras flashed, immortalizing the sweat-soaked male resting on his knees over the girl, connected in such a suggestive way. But Blaise didn't really see them in this moment, the seconds feeling extended, slowed.

The referee hovers close, eagerly awaiting a cover.

Blaise leans forward, bringing his left hand to brace against the mat while the right hand comes to rest upon her bared stomach. He could pin her right here, he realizes. Just lie forward, let her face remain right here, take in the moment for as long as it'll last, feel out every little feature of her face with that full firmness; feel her breasts pressing into his abdominals, her toned, lean stomach flush against his pectorals. He could squeeze her thigh up against his shoulder and rest his head against her hips for the long, luxuriating ten-count.

He could do it. She seems out.

She seems out.

But it's not good enough. He wants to know she's fully out. That her body is his for the full ten seconds or more. That's what a domination match is all about. And she deserves to go out in a way that'll leave a lasting impression - not just on the audience, but between them. It may feel gratifying to have the attractive face of his rival as she is, but he wants to pin her in a more viscerally dominant way. For both of them. As two competitors. He wants that heat between them to be a burning fire.

It starts with a signal to the roaring audience. A couple quick, indicating pats of his palm against the girl's stomach, denoting the target. He's been breaking down her core all night. It's fitting that the final move be focused on her stomach. And so, grudgingly, he lifts his hips from her face and shifts, wobbling, to his full height. Reaching down, he takes Makie by the wrists to pull her across the mat, aligning her body perpendicular to the turnbuckle before letting her limbs drop above her head. That's an important feature, too, if she's too beaten to protect herself or tighten her stomach; it'll keep her body taut and defenseless against the collision incoming.

Turning, he staggers to the corner, grabs the top rope, and smacks his palm against the top of the turnbuckle a couple times. The anticipation in the building escalates; now everyone is on the same page. He's about to end her with a move from the top rope. And in short order, he hauls himself up to perch atop those trembling cables, crouched at first, but soon lifting to his full height. His right fist raises in salute to the ecstatic crowd, posed for a second under the barrage of cameraflash...

...and with a pump of his legs, he launches off his perch. His body twists in a corkscrew, whirling mid-air to face Makie with the momentum pulling him into a full 450 flip - his phoenix splash finisher, the Flashpoint. And all of this momentum with his full bodyweight is aimed to splash down over Makie's prone form, sleek, unyielding abdominals crushing Makie's abdominals crossways.