Karen Gale vs Mateo Salinas

[Underdoggo]

After a few seconds of back and forth chain wrestling, Karen now found herself in a dominant position, locking Mateo tightly in a rear naked choke. She knew it was still too early in the match to try for a knockout, but this at least kept her speedy opponent locked in place for a bit. Plus, the choke, and the effort on his part to escape, were both bound to tire him out for a bit.

She felt Mateo surge to one knee. She clung on, her forehead resting against the side of Mateo's own head, her mouth just next to his ear. "Well if you're enjoying yourself, I'll just squeeze you tighter then," she whispered into his ear. "Far be it from me to spoil your fun--"

She was cut short as an elbow hammered into her side. Followed by another, and another. Each blow sent a gasp of air exploding from her lungs, and by the third elbow, she was releasing Mateo and dropping onto her back. Breathing hoarsely, she rolled, pushing herself back up to her hands and knees. "Bastard..." she croaked, wheezing for breath.

[Parker]

Mateo’s vision blurred at the edges as Karen’s choke cinched tight, her breath hot against his ear. He couldn’t tell if her tone was smug or playful while his focus was drawn elsewhere, each squeeze making his lungs burn. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself upright onto one knee, and then snapped his elbow back. The first strike thudded into her ribs, sharp, jarring. He felt her grip falter just slightly.

The second blow cracked in harder, and the third was desperate, all raw grit, driving deep enough that her arms finally loosened. Mateo gasped raggedly as the choke peeled away, his whole body lurching forward. He hit the mat on his hands and knees, coughing hard as precious air came rushing back.

Karen’s croaked insult reached him through the ringing in his ears, and despite the fire in his chest, he twisted his head to glance back at her. His lips curled into a strained grin, laughter breaking through his coughing fit.

“Ha-heh- you know, I get that a lot.” he rasped, still chuckling even as he wheezed.

Dragging one arm across his mouth, Mateo shuffled back toward her on his knees, planting both palms firmly on the canvas. In a sudden burst, his body snapped out like a spring. Both legs shot backward, like an angry stallion, aiming to drive his boots square into Karen’s chest.

The instant he felt the rebound, he let the momentum carry him. His body tucked into a forward roll, tumbling across the mat before springing up in one smooth pop, arms spread wide as he landed on his feet. His chest still heaved for air, but his grin was back, the crowd feeding on his degree of showmanship.

[Underdoggo]

Karen huffed from where Mateo's elbows had dug sharply into her flank. It had been severe enough that she had been forced back a few steps. It had stung, but it was not enough to incapacitate her. Not wanting to give Mateo time to recover, she charged at him...

...only for him to drop low, and kick both boots up into her chest.

"OOOOOF!" Karen gasped as the air was blasted from her lungs. The impact sent her sprawling back into the ropes: still winded, she came bouncing right back, headed right for a collision that her Mexican foe could have easily taken advantage of...

[Parker]

Mateo popped out of his tumble with a practiced roll, landing in a crouch before snapping his head up to track Karen. He caught her staggering off the ropes, chest heaving where his boots had caught her square. For a heartbeat, the temptation burned in him, to throw something flashy, something with the kind of flair the crowd would remember. But one look at Karen’s eyes, still blazing even through the winded stagger, reminded him of the truth: her aggression had already dragged him deeper into his arsenal of lucha tricks than he’d planned to show this early. He’d have to save them for when he needed them.

No time for indulgence.

He surged forward in a few hard, charging steps, body twisting as they closed the gap. In one fluid sweep, his arm wrapped over her shoulder, his other sliding low to hook through her thighs. Momentum did the rest. With a snap, Mateo wrenched her up and over, turning her body in midair before slamming her down hard against the mat in a crisp, sharp powerslam.

The ring quaked under the impact. Mateo flowed with it, rolling through the motion so that his chest and shoulder drove down across hers. He pressed in close, weight leaning heavy on her collar to keep her pinned, his breath hot as he let out a heavy exhale. One hand snatched at the lip of her kneepad, yanking her leg up and high to crank her body at an awkward angle.

It wasn’t just about reaching for the three-count, he doubted Karen would give him that so easily. But pinfalls were taxing to break, and every ounce of effort she spent kicking out was one he didn’t have to spend matching her power.

[Underdoggo]

Everything was a blur of motion by this point. Karen was breathing hard after Mateo's boots had hammered her hard in the tits, and she felt at this point that she was less acting of her own accord and more being caught up in the momentum of things, rebounding from the ropes to hurtle straight at Mateo. Everything was happening so quickly: the best Karen could do was raise an arm, to try to take Mateo down with a close-ranged clothesline...

Mateo charged in to meet her, dropping low, before her arm. Her arm and thigh were grabbed, and the next thing she knew she was flying head over heels, slamming hard into her back. A silent gasp of pain escaped her lips; she would have arched up from the impact if Mateo weren't already on her, his chest compressing down against hers, one arm hooking one of her legs back in a neat pinfall.

"ONE..."

That was as far as the countdown got before, with an angry groan, Karen kicked out. The match was barely a minute old, though, and she was hurting and Mateo had already scored a pinfall attempt on her. Not the best start so far, she thought bitterly to herself.

[Parker]

Karen’s buck hopped Mateo’s weight off of her and wrenched her leg free. Planting his palms on the mat, she glanced down at her with a slightly arched brow. Rocking back to his knees, he dragged the back of his forearm across his damp brow, letting out a sharp exhale.

“Pride’s a hell of a thing. Careful.” His words came low, almost a warning, half lost in the din of the crowd. He wasn’t gloating, it was the tone of a man who’d seen fighters spend themselves too fast just to prove they weren’t down.

His hand found her head, fingers laced briefly into her hair as he gave a tug, coaxing her up with him. It wasn’t gentle. Mateo rose in a sharp, steady climb, dragging Karen up in his wake before she could find her footing. He wanted her disoriented, weight shifting on heels instead of setting her base.

Once upright, he shifted his stance. One arm slid across her shoulder, the other wedging between her thighs. With a grunt, he’d try to hoist, lifting her up into a sharp angle. The muscles in his back coiled tight as he turned, then drove her downward in a crisp and simple body slam.

The mat would boom beneath her impact if he succeeded, rattling ropes and drawing a pop from the crowd. Mateo wouldn’t linger on top this time. He straightened, taking a quick step back to suck in a breath, then snapped toward the ropes, boots pounding the canvas as he broke into a run.

[Underdoggo]

Karen had managed to successfully kick out, rolling free from the Mexican, her chest pumping as she tried to catch her breath. So far, Mateo definitely had her on the defensive: it wasn't just that he was strong and skilled, but he was damn fast as well. Mateo was being relentless in a way that Karen was finding it hard to mount a proper defence or get a good counter-attack in, and the fact irritated her more than a little.

She felt his fingers dig through her hair and her scalp burn as she was lifted up. Case in point.

She gave an exhaled hiss of pain and annoyance as Mateo hoisted her up to her feet...and then her arm and shoulder were grabbed. Alarm bells rang in Karen's head, but before she could so much as ball a fist, she was flipped upside down, and then her back impacted the mat sharply as she was slammed into it.

The impact caused her to jacknife upward, mouth open in a silent gasp, one hand clutching the small of her back, immobile just as Mateo went running across the ring...

[Parker]

Mateo tore across the ring, boots drumming like war drums before his hand shot out to clutch the top rope. He let momentum whip him forward, legs kicking high as his body snapped sideways, slipping him clean over the edge. He landed light on the apron facing towards the canvas, breath sharp, shoulders rolling as he dipped low and wrenched the ropes tight against his chest.

In one smooth surge he sprang upward, boots catching the top strand. Canvas trembled beneath him as he bounced once, poised, coiled, before he launched himself like a missile into the lights. Arms flared, chest turned to the rafters, his grin wild as the crowd gasped at the height.his legs slowly extending out in front of him.

“¡Vamos!” he barked, voice cutting through the noise.

And then he dropped.

His signature Flying Guillotine Leg Drop came scything down from the sky, Mateo’s thigh aiming to slam across Karen’s collar and throat with all the precision of a blade the move was named after. Regardless if it hit clean or she moved, the ring would shake with the crash, the crack of impact sharp enough to echo.

If he landed it, Mateo would roll with the landing, twisting at the hips, never losing rhythm. He’d sprawl across her chest, body slick and heavy as he hooked one of her legs high, dragging it up to expose her hip and pin her shoulders. Cheek brushing her damp hair, breath still coming fast, he bore down with every ounce of weight he had.

[Underdoggo]

Only a few seconds after Karen managed to kick Mateo off, she felt heavy footfalls thumping across the ring. Huffing, she rolled over to her hands and knees, and hurriedly pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the lingering pain in her back from that powerslam. Fighting against her own body's sluggishness, she forced herself up to her knees...

...just in time to see Mateo lunging at her from the top rope, leg extended like an executioner's blade.

Instinct kicked in, and Karen ducked, narrowly avoiding the airborne kick. She heard Mateo crash down behind her as she backpedaled away; stumbling to her feet, Karen broke into a run, rebounding off the ropes, before slingshotting herself at the prone Mateo, kicking a leg up to hammer a knee into either the back of Mateo's head or the small of his back as some quick but brutal retaliation!

"Don't think it'll be THAT easy!"

[Parker]

The canvas buckled under the weight of his crash. Mateo’s backside smacked hard against the mat with a THUUD! that rattled all the way up his spine, his body jolting as though he’d just sat down on a block of concrete. His face twisted, teeth grit, hand shooting to the base of his back. “¡Carajo!” he hissed through clenched teeth, the Spanish curse slipping free as he half-rolled to one side, his tailbone throbbing from the self-inflicted wreck.

He tried to sit up, trying to shake it off, but Karen was already coming at him. Mateo caught the motion in his periphery, his instincts screaming at him to protect his skull. He jerked his upper body backward, tucking his chin and raising an arm but it was the wrong call.

Karen’s knee hammered square into the small of his back with a sharp CRACK! The blow drove the air from his lungs in a harsh bark of pain, his body lurching forward in the seated position as though someone had just struck him with a hammer. His eyes squeezed shut, the sting burning deep in his lower spine.

The pain folded him before he could even breathe, and a second later he flopped onto his back, rolling toward the ropes in desperate instinct to escape the follow-up. One arm wrapped tight across his back, clutching at the fresh welt of pain while the other pawed weakly at the canvas. His teeth were bared in a grimace, every inhale jagged.

“Dios mío… she’s got knees like knives…” he muttered breathlessly, half in awe, half in agony, rolling onto his side and curling slightly as he tried to gather himself. The crowd’s cheer over Karen’s payback only twisted the knife further, Mateo had the flash, but right now, she had the last word.