The Shots We (Maybe Shouldn't) Take [for Ducky]

[HotWheels]

The fire in Esther’s spine burned hotter with every millimeter he leaned back, transforming her vertebrae into popping, grinding jolts of pain like electricity. He had her in a torturous, unnatural curve, forcing her heels down toward the back of her head until her quadriceps screamed in protest. She wasn't just beaten; he all but had her displayed. The hold flattened her breasts and forced the air from her lungs in short, jagged gasps that sounded suspiciously like whimpers. The skin of her sides and back contorted into ridges. Her hips twisted and strained.

And God, the exposure. The torque on her hips did more than just bend her; it dragged the fabric of her bikini bottoms dangerously low, the pink strings squeezing and slipping against her sweating skin. She felt the cool air kiss the top of her glutes, a prelude to the stripping he promised. The humiliation of it - folded up like a cheap lawn chair in the middle of her own living room, helpless beneath the weight of the man she’d provoked - sent a flush through her that rivaled the burn in her back. A confusing cocktail of agony and a traitorous, throbbing arousal that pooled low in her belly.

She tried to find a breath, but only a ragged, broken moan escaped her lips, her face mashed into the matas.

"Nnnngh! Stop... it! Too... deep!"

Her vision swam in a haze of white-hot sensation. He sat heavy and immovable on the small of her back, a conqueror on his throne, and Esther realized with a sinking finality that she had no fight left. Her body felt lush and heavy, limp with the overwhelming stimulation of the stretch. To keep resisting wasn't brave. It was just delaying the inevitable relief... and the inevitable penalty.

A final, crushing tug on her legs snapped her resolve.

"Okay... ungh... I give!"

Esther’s hand, trembling and weak, slapped the mat in a frantic, rapid-fire rhythm, the sound echoing through the room as she begged for him to release the tension before she snapped in two.

[ADarlingDucky]

Esther's attempts to get her arms down and force some space between her and the matted floor seemed to only end up as a mere inconvenience for El Rey, and as the masked man simply sat his full weight down atop her back, Esther was squashed flat to the matted floor! The masked man, gripping her legs tightly, would begin a slow but steady lean backwards, each movement folding Esther further and further towards a circle, all while she let out low moans of agony, her back feeling all of the strain the nasty hold provided! Her attire, already struggling to hide her curvy body, would be pulled taught against her as he flexed his arms and pulled back further, leaving her letting out strained cries for him to stop! But it was only when Esther would finally let out a strained submission, her hand beginning to desperately slap the mats, that El Rey would finally let go of her legs and allow her body to unfurl!

"There we go! You're pretty flexible, you know that?" El Rey's words, ever-so-slightly taunting given that Esther had just been forced to submit, would float through the air as the luchador stood up off of his opponent, relieving her of the feeling of his body pinning her down. The masked man would step aside, letting Esther have some room to actually recover, though she'd likely need a few moments to relieve her spine of some of the pain that was likely still lingering, sitting down next to her.

"Whew... was starting to think you were gonna break in half before you tapped out. Good thing you did though, wouldn't have been as fun if I had to unroll you before we moved on." El Rey said with a wry smile, sitting by and watching Esther as she recovered. Still, the unspoken words from either wrestler, at the moment, were about the conditions that the two had set for their match, being that any lost fall would result in a lost piece of clothing as well. Something that Esther was going to have to suffer before they continued!

[HotWheels]

Despite his praise for her flexibility, Esther didn't feel very damn flexible at the moment. She felt like one of those old rubber bands - stretched too far, too fast, and ready to snap if anyone so much as looked at her wrong. Her body sprawled flat against the mat, chest heaving as she tried to suck down air that her lungs seemed to have forgotten how to process properly. Every breath sent a fresh jolt through her spine, reminding her exactly where Rey had been sitting, exactly how far back he'd pulled her legs, exactly how close she'd come to having her toes touch her head.

Her fingers scrabbled weakly at the mat before she managed to get one arm working well enough to reach back, pawing desperately at the small of her back where the worst of the burn concentrated. The muscles there felt like twisted rope, knotted and angry, and no matter how she rubbed at them, the relief wouldn't come fast enough. Her other hand joined in, both palms pressing and kneading against her lower spine as a low, pitiful groan rumbled up from her chest.

"Yeah... sure you'd say so..." she muttered into the mat, her voice muffled and breathless. "All you had to do was watch me bend..."

Why had she thought it was a good idea to wrestle such a thick man, again? Oh right. Because she'd gotten cocky. Because she'd wanted to prove she could hang with him. Because, well, she had gotten a little spicy, like she always did. And here she was, flopped on her own living room floor, her back screaming at her about her hubris.

Her legs still tingled from being yanked back so hard. She tried flexing her toes, testing if everything still worked the way it should, and winced when her hamstrings protested. The burn there wasn't as bad as her spine, but it was enough to remind her that Rey had control of those legs for what felt like an eternity. Long enough to make her tap.

And beg. Maybe a little of that too.

Her face flushed hotter - she pressed her forehead harder against the mat, as if she could somehow hide from her own embarrassment.

"That was... that was good. Good technique,"" she admitted grudgingly, still face-down, still rubbing at her back. ""Kinda embarrassing to get treated like that in my own place, but..."

The words came out between gasps, her Southern drawl thicker than usual as her body slowly started to remember what "relaxed" felt like. Her shoulders began to drop from where they'd been hunched up near her ears, and the trembling in her arms eased just enough that she could push herself up slightly, lifting her chest off the mat with a shaky exhale.

She rolled onto her side first, then onto her back. The moment she settled flat, she felt it - the oppressive warmth of her apartment, the way the air seemed to cling to her sweat-slicked skin. It wasn't like wrestling in a gym with industrial fans or an arena with air conditioning. No, this was just her little place, and right now it felt like a damn sauna.

Her purple-highlighted hair stuck to her neck, her shoulders, even plastered itself across her forehead in damp, annoying strands. She grimaced and reached up with both hands, gathering the mess into something resembling a ponytail. Her fingers worked automatically, twisting and pulling the lavender-streaked locks away from her flushed face and off her sticky shoulders. Cool air kissed the back of her neck, and she let out a soft sigh as she secured the makeshift ponytail by doubling it back into itself.

She started to sit up, her abs protesting slightly as she curled forward, and that's when she remembered it. Her eyes drifted down to the pink strings of her bikini top, then lower to the matching bottoms that had been riding dangerously low during that hold. The stipulation. The bet.

*Oh. Oh no.*

Her stomach dropped like a stone into a well.

"So good... practice round," Esther's voice came out a little too high, a little too rushed as she pushed herself the rest of the way up to sitting. She waved one hand in Rey's direction, the other still steadying herself against the mat. "Now we can do the real thing, right?"

[ADarlingDucky]

With Esther finally submitting after nearly being folded into a circle by El Rey, the masked man would release her legs and allow the southerner to unfurl following the hold, letting her back relax as he shifted off of her, moving to sit on the matted floor. Despite having been on top, El Rey did feel like it would be a nice chance to get his breath back, taking a few moments to really stretch out and enjoy himself, while Esther was busy flexing her muscles individually, likely looking to lessen the ache in them one step at a time. El Rey certainly had pushed her to her limits, but the southern beauty at least didn't seem too bothered about it, rubbing her back while she threw a light compliment his way, El Rey letting out a slight chuckle as she grumbled it out towards him.

"Well thank you. I'm glad that you appreciate such good technique." El Rey would slowly push himself up and dust him off, while Esther would roll over and begin to do the same, but it seemed like it was only then she remembered what they had agreed on. And after that, she would slow down, looking far more embarrassed, before quickly attempting to brush off her loss of the fall and move past. The masked man felt a smirk grow across his face, and waving a hand towards her, decided to toy with the southern belle a bit!

"Practice round? Ah, sure thing, absolutely no problem." El Rey said, standing up and stretching just a little bit, letting the surprise of his statement sit with her for a second, before he continued.

"I've got no issues with giving a less skilled wrestler a warm up round. I mean, I certainly wouldn't need one, but if YOU aren't confident without one, then by all means." El Rey's voice oozed with a smug air to it, clear for Esther to hear. The implication was as plain as day, that Esther could take the "practice round" if she wanted to, but the masked man was most certainly not going to let her hear the end of it, especially after all of her big talk leading up to their match!

[HotWheels]

Esther had a lot of positive traits, she knew. People found her easy to talk to, charming, approachable - all those things that mattered a lot to her sense of self. A few people had called her dumb every now and then, usually behind her back but sometimes to her face, but honestly? She thought they were the dumb ones. But there was one flaw she sometimes acknowledged - when she was feeling particularly self-aware, which wasn't often - and that she usually forgot about or flat-out refused to recognize: she absolutely could not stop herself from getting riled up when someone questioned her.

Sometimes she realized she was doing it. Sometimes that little voice in the back of her head would whisper, telling her not to fall for it again. Right now, with Rey sitting there all smug and stretchy, teasing her in her own damn apartment after he'd just bent her practically in half and made her tap? That little voice was nowhere to be found.

Her face puffed up like a blowfish, her cheeks flushing hot with indignation. Her green eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched, and her hands balled into fists against the mat. The ache in her back, the burn in her legs, the lingering embarrassment of having been folded like a lawn chair - all of it got shoved aside in favor of pure, unfiltered offense.

"You little-!"

The words came out sharp and heated, her Southern drawl thickening with anger. She didn't finish the sentence. Didn't need to. Instead, her hands flew to the knot between her breasts, fingers working frantically at the tie of her pink bikini top. She ripped the top off with more force than was strictly necessary, the fabric pulling free from her chest and leaving her bare from the waist up. For a split second, the cool air of the apartment kissed her exposed skin, but she didn't have time to think about that. Didn't have time to second-guess what she was doing. Her brain was running on pure indignant autopilot.

With a growl of frustration, Esther balled up the bikini top and hurled it directly at Rey's head.

The pink fabric sailed through the air, straps trailing behind it like streamers, and smacked him right in the face. That was all the opening she needed - or thought she needed, anyway.

Esther pushed herself up off the mat, her whole body, but especially her legs, protesting immediately. They felt like jelly, still tingling and weak from being stretched and pulled in that hold. Her back screamed at her to sit back down, to take it easy, to not be an idiot. But her pride was louder than her pain, and pride won out. She moved too slowly. Way too slowly. Her usually quick pop-up turned into an awkward, lurching scramble as her aching legs refused to cooperate the way they should. But she was committed now, dammit, and she wasn't about to stop.

"I'll show you less skilled!" she declared, lunging forward.

Her hands shot out, fingers grabbing for Rey's head while he was still occupied with the bikini top wrapped around his face, trying to pull his head under her arm into a headlock before he could fully recover.