Shaken, Maybe a Little Stirred - Domino vs. Ophelia Noir

[CyanDimitrik]

In this process, Domino can't help but consider how lightweight she feels in his grip. She's not a feather, but it's very different when wrestling another man. Her slender neck feels delicate in his arm as he constricts her. And as he listens to her sputtering her defense, his gaze falls on her arched, feminine body. She's an extremely attractive girl, no doubt about that. And someone is going home with someone. While he wouldn't necessarily mind their match turning into a date, at the end of the day, a couple factors still play in: he has to beat her for the sake of his career. And he knows he'd be good to her.

He likes to think she'd be good to him, if she were in the proverbial driver's seat. He just doesn't know her that well yet.

She's thrashing an awful lot.

Domino tilts his head away from her flailing arms and fingers, trying to avoid any errant eyerakes. And while a part of him wants to choke her out in this position and take the victory here, he also isn't sure he can control her well enough to reach that point before she digs into his peepers! And even as he's thinking about it, her struggling sees a hand raising and clocking him squarely on the corner of the jaw, forcing his head aside quickly.

Deciding instantly to change things up, Domino suddenly drops to a knee with her! Naturally, this brings the girl's spine down squarely upon his raised knee in a modified lungblower, before his arm suddenly releases her neck to let her body hit the mat however she will!

"I'll figure somethin' out," Domino says finally, hand raised to nurse his jaw.

[Shadowheart]

Ophelia's vision was starting to blur, her breath growing more labored as Domino's bicep remained locked tight around her throat. He knew exactly when to squeeze, too - just enough to keep her weak, just enough to keep her completely under his control. Her fingers clawed at his arm, her body writhing in resistance, but nothing seemed to work. This was not how her debut was supposed to go. Losing was one thing, but tapping out in a hold like this would be downright humiliating.

Her desperation mounted, and just as she felt her strength slipping, her other hand suddenly struck something - his head. She wasn't sure exactly where she hit, but at least now she had a target. She readied herself to strike again, aiming for the same spot... but before she could, Domino suddenly dropped to a knee!

Pain exploded through her spine the second her back crashed down onto his raised knee, a sharp cry ripping from her lips. Her body stiffened for a brief moment before she slumped off his knee, collapsing onto her side once he finally released the hold.

Once on the mat, a choked gasp escaped her lips, one hand instinctively moving to her back while the other clutched at her aching throat. She coughed, her body wracked with discomfort, eyes squeezed shut as she struggled to push past the pain.

[CyanDimitrik]

Watching her writhe on the mat, Domino could plainly see that she was struggling - and for good reason. He wasn't exactly going easy on her; this match meant something for both of them. He badly needed to build momentum in this federation, and she wanted to make the most of her debut. But one of them would have to end the match submitting to the other - if not by tapout, then by their body unable to break a pin. It was nothing personal - but he chose her to be in that position.

Besides. He could make it up to her later. Sometimes a PoW stipulation opened doors in other ways than the obvious!

Regardless, Domino wasted only enough time to survey the damage he'd inflicted on the tall, slender beauty in her downed position before getting into motion again. Hands move to two points of her body, one to her shoulder, the other to her bare hip, both pulling to roll her over onto her back. Ensuring her arm is clear from beneath her spine, Domino reaches between her generously exposed legs and hooks her right thigh before leaning forward. Toned, firm pectorals press in against Ophelia's breasts, and his free arm huddles against her right arm to hold it down.

The pin cover is classic, centering his weight over her in a lateral chest press. Palm and fingers press into the soft skin of her leg, and his head tilts to look towards her face, but he can't quite see her from that position.

The referee drops beside the pair, hand raised to start the count! Slap! "One!"

[Shadowheart]

Ophelia knew she couldn't afford to waste time writhing on the mat, but bloody hell, that hurt. Being choked out was bad enough, but the way Domino had dropped her back-first onto his knee made everything ten times worse. A dull, pulsing ache radiated through her spine, and each breath felt heavier than the last.

She was still trying to steady herself when she suddenly felt hands on her body - one gripping her shoulder, the other on her hip. Before she could react, she was rolled onto her back with ease. A faint groan of protest left her lips, but it barely had time to escape before Domino was already on top of her, hooking her leg up and pressing his solid chest firmly against hers.

The pin was tight and the crowd watched on with anticipation, some already rising to the edge of their seats as the referee dropped down beside them. A hand slapped against the mat.

"One... Two... Th--!"

Before the final count could land, Ophelia threw her body to the side, twisting desperately to lift her shoulder off the canvas just in time! The break was close - too close - but she wasn't about to let her debut match end like this.

[CyanDimitrik]

Domino couldn't see her face, but he was certainly imagining it; her eyes shut, panting through pretty, parted lips, tension written in her expression. He can feel her heart beating against his chest through the material of her top, just as much as he's confident she can feel his against her. Each slap of the hand to the mat brought a nod from the model.

One...

Two...

Is this it? Has he claimed the British bombshell- no. Just a millisecond before hand strikes canvas, he feels the tension in her arms and in that captive leg. And sure enough, she's pitching to the side enough to raise her shoulder off the mat.

"No fall! Shoulder up!," announces the referee girl.

Domino raises from her chest to rest on his knees, head canted to look down at her again. But he doesn't take the time to admire her this time. His arms reach in, hooking beneath her shoulders to pull, attempting to draw her up to her feet before him. And once at a vertical base, the arms attempt to wrap tightly around her stomach from behind in a waistlock, pulling her back against his front - his chest pressing firmly behind her shoulders, his abdominals against her bare back, his hips tight against her rear.

"Not tiring out on me, are you, agent?," he asks between breaths, only loudly enough for her nearby ear to catch it. Their banter isn't for the audience. It's only meant for her. "Gotta love a girl with stamina!"

[Shadowheart]

That was too close.

Even the crowd gasped in shock, a ripple of disbelief spreading through the arena as Ophelia managed to break the pin at the very last second. She hoped, at the very least, she was sending a clear message - rookie or not, she wasn't going down without a fight!

But there was no time to celebrate her survival.

Before she could even take a breath, strong arms hooked under her own, yanking her upright with startling ease. Her legs wobbled slightly from the sudden movement, her body still sluggish from the last impact, and she barely had a second to steady herself before those same arms snatched her from behind.

A gasp caught in her throat as she felt herself pulled in close, Domino's arms coiling around her waist in a tight grip. Her back pressed flush against his toned frame, his hold firm as he locked her in place with a waistlock. A second later, and a startled yelp escaped her lips at the sudden constriction, her instincts kicking in as both hands shot down to his, fingers clawing at the grip around her stomach. She squirmed against him, her movements making the position all the more awkward, but he held on effortlessly.

"I bet—" she started, shifting against him as she struggled to pry herself free, her breath coming out in short, frustrated huffs. "You say that to every girl you have a match with!" Her words were defiant, but the heat creeping up her face as she wriggled in his grasp was an entirely different problem.