Red Dread Seduction (Black Severin vs Arlise Christiaens)

[DSX93]

He was starting to, after her grip on his legs lightened enough to make that split more bearable, if still a son of a bitch. It was impossible to miss that hand, with it being where it was, so he was able to spot the limited space she had in the positions they were in. But she made it work. Boy, did she know how to make it work.

She didn't snake the whole hand in there when she zipped him down. Nope, just a finger. And even that...

Severin felt a nail on his member. Its gentle caress was yet another assertion of dominance that had his eyes popping to the size of saucers. Another something that said that she could ruin him if she wanted to, but was choosing the current mixture of pleasure and pain that was sending all kinds of funny, but not altogether unpleasurable feelings through him and making it harder to keep quiet. But even if he were able to be the face of Stoicism itself right now, there would be no hiding the twitching of his loins.

How he could counter this? Well, maybe he could've grabbed that hand and maybe twisted the wrist or something, but what would that do for him?

She had him by the balls, figuratively and literally. More so when she tweaked her hold to force him forward. It was here that his gut spoke up: He couldn't keep going like this for too much longer. Give her too much time to get going, and it'll cripple him for the rest of the match. But what to do?

He was gritting his teeth now. Fuck! What can he do?

As he pushed himself away from the mat, it came to him. It was a long shot. A really long shot. But in the absence of any other ideas, he proceeded with this one: When his upper body had risen as far as he could take it, and with a mighty roar, he threw himself forward, using the momentum to push himself off the mat in a handstand, with the redheaded Domme in tow. If he was successful in bullshitting his way through that, she'd either have to let go, be flung about, or be slammed into the mat. Either one of those three options were good to him.

[Winter]

Arlise supposed she had come a long way in her time at LAW.

While never one shy about sexuality, she had only ever engaged in that sexuality after matches, save for the intimate smothers, holds, and occasional kisses shared in the ring. Her old promotion had not promoted more than the antics expected of a typical independent wrestling show - raunchiness seemed allowed but not entirely encouraged. She knew long before coming to LAW that the company wanted their wrestlers to push the boundaries of explicit and believed she could both embrace and thrive in this environment - she wouldn't have signed otherwise. All said, though, her matches had remained relatively tame, and much of what she did in the ring and out had remained the same.

The past month or so had changed, and tame had turned to... her match with Muriel Spencer that could only end with an orgasm. No faking in the ring, she supposed. Her encounter with Yuto served as a coming-out to prove her comfort with outright eroticism in the ring, and she had found herself surprised at how much she had enjoyed herself. Now, behind closed doors, she raked her finger across yet another relative stranger's growing erection. That her changing reputation only worried her enough to sit at the back of her mind like a dull ache while the rest of her reveled in the moment... surprised her, pleased her, and comforted her all in one.

So she remained in the moment - to a point, anyway. Her mind wandered, and she failed to notice how he had pushed his shoulders to a point where he had all but trapped her hand beneath his crotch. She peered up at him in displeasure in time to witness his roar at the same time she heard it, and she realized what he attempted to do as soon as his hips pulled away from her hand.

Certainly, her coiled legs might have remained around his, but Arlise thought better of testing his ability to retaliate - she had her victory. She uncoiled and rolled away as he pushed up onto his hands, putting enough distance that he couldn't land on her but opening a window of time as a result. Eventually, she came to a stop on her stomach and started to rise.

[DSX93]

Switches. What is it about switches? Every single one he's met thus far has made an impact in one way or another, and he knew that Arlise was not going to be any different. So impactful were they, that he even went and became one. Like it was contagious; Kink-19, the most fun virus known to man.

Her antics had poked at him in a way that he had never anticipated a dominant woman poking at him, ever: Of course, he wanted more of her. And he had the feeling that if she caught him between those powerful legs and squeezed that he'd be in trouble for more reasons than the pressure. But that wasn't it. A growing part of him -- and not just the obvious one -- felt the need to course correct.

Bringing the momentum back to his side? No, that wouldn't be good enough. He wanted the control that she was looking to exert over him. It's what let him push on back up to his feet when his legs wanted to chill out for a minute following the roll that freed him. That, and his motivation of course correcting his approach to matches in general. His hips made their disapproval known, colluding with his legs to try to bring the rest of him down. It threw off his stride.

Still wide and picking up speed with every step, but

(Note: It's something like what you see in the dodge roll)

; he could forget about the dropkick he had in mind. He grunted through the hurt, forcing his body to obey his will. In his battle against La Dama de Loba, it was over for him when his body gave out on him. He'll be damned if he lets it happen again tonight, especially within the first few minutes of the action starting.

He was still moving straight enough to do something else. He was right in range when he thought of it, and the moment it popped into his head, he took to the skies,

like his name was Mizuki.

[Winter]

Sometimes, a girl had to live a little and try something new.

Arlise endured her fair share of snaps, crackles, and pops as she rose to her feet, all silent but leaving her torso tingling. The time on her side had given her back some recovery time, but that did not remove a bruise forming around the spine. Still, she felt relatively fresh, which encouraged her. With them separating and him still by the wall, she did not make the silly mistake of rushing him - he could send her slamming into the wall, too, and anything she did sort of attempting to pull him into another submission would not work, anyway.

"I would think you would like that," she teased. He rose to his feet more quickly than she expected while he spoke, but clearly, the ligaments she had bent to the edge of their limits still betrayed him. Arlise initially started to close on him, but she stopped after a step - he did not exactly look steady on his feet. He also seemed intent on rushing her regardless, and she believed waiting for him to stumble into her provided her a greater opportunity. She spread out like a sumo, ready to find an opening to deck his onrushing form.

But he did manage to leap. And Arlise decided she would "try something new." She saw his body turn as he lifted off, and expecting an attempt at a crossbody, she made the sudden decision to trust entirely in her greater-than-expected stretch. Arlise would catch him. She stepped forward, set her feet, and opened her arms, already envisioning the catch and the ensuing sidewalk slam.

Unfortunately, he spun, and while Arlise absorbed the impact better for having her arms raised, he still dropped into her with enough force to send her hard onto her back and land on top of her, stunning and then flattening her.

[DSX93]

Holy shit. That worked.

Those ligaments didn't like him much right now, but they'd get over it. Getting Arlise on the ground was a good way to start that process. Crushing her into it? Even better. Let it be known that this Goliath's got some moves!

Severin would not rest on his laurels here. The way she caught him was almost exactly how one was supposed catch someone doing a crossbody in scripted wrestling, adjusted properly for the real deal. Legs spread out, weight redistributed to bear. He suspected that if it weren't for the additional momentum generated through the whirling motions, he would've been eating shit right about now.

Now to make the most of this opportunity. First step: Reposition to a mount over her lower body. He knew what he needed to do to neutralize her big guns, but he had something more unorthodox in mind. He would slide one of his legs underneath one of hers, triangling over the juicy, powerful thigh and squeezing it tight in between his own. That of his own on the inside would be pressed pointedly against that sweetest spot in between her legs, a placement much more common between two women, presenting a teasing presence that would be magnified by his thirty-two pound advantage pressing down on her.

Second step: Seize the wrists. Criss-cross her arms above her head. Introduce a little sleight of hand...There. Maintain a hold on one wrist, and use his own arm to help keep the other pinned, backed up with his weight. Hard muscle would overtake supple curvature with an enticing intimacy, faces brought within inches of each other. A feeling the masked man relished, the evidence being in the occasional twitch against her tightly bound leg.

And then...nothing. With the corner of his mouth turning up into the sort of smile that said he knew he had her and dared her to prove differently, he waited. Let her struggle some. Let it sink in. "I think..." Though, with his tone and the mischievous look in his eye, holding hers all the way through what was about to happen next, it would be readily apparent that he didn't just think. He knew. His other hand, left completely free to explore the luscious body beneath him, started first on her hip with a clap that filled the room and left a lasting sting. It was much gentler on the leisurely, inspecting rise. Along her bared stomach. Toned, yet so smooth to the touch, still. A fine mixture of the feminine softness and power that stirs him. "The two of us..." One of those delectable looking breasts. Plenty for the hand to gorge on, and so pliable. It stopped at her neck, taking a possessive grip of her with emphasis at the sides. Designed to hurt her good, leaving the airways untouched, but producing that same delightful lightheaded feeling over time all the same.

"Are like peas in a pod."