LionessDom: passion and violence - Gabriel Vinlee vs. Dot

[Hagen-Autem]

Types: Ironwoman
Rules: The match will last 20 minutes. For each pin, 10-count, and for any kind of submission, 1 point will be awarded. When time is up, the wrestler with the most points will be declared the winner.

Spoiler

The theme song of the proclaimed queen, from Gart's pub in England, was filling the arena as her opponent's preparations were completed.

Lying in her corner, filing her nails, her legs dangling over the ropes, and her back resting on the other side of the corner, Gabriel did everything she could to make herself comfortable. Free. With that feeling of control in the face of a gift: her opponent.

She herself was eager to finally meet her, to learn who she was, and how she should treat the beautiful girl who would face her in a match like this.

Her ear noticed her theme song fading. That made Gabriel Vinlee throw the nail file behind her, straight at one of the LAW officials' heads.

The time was approaching.

She stretched at the top, inflating her chest while sinking her abdomen, arching her back over the corner; she looked head-on at the audience, her hair hanging outside the ring, shiny and straight. The indomitable queen was like a spider, choosing which fly to charm into her web. Some made eye contact, but it was the last fan she winked at before untangling herself from the corner and standing on her feet. Her miniskirt fluttered with that jump.

She was nervous, which was why she wanted to take their breath away a little. She swallowed hard and rested her elbows on the rope, languid, as if she were cheeky. Her flat abdomen shone, charming from the best angles, all angles.

It wasn't a typical match, because tonight the queen would dress differently: her boots would be more or less the same, but her skirt would not, split with a cut in front and behind each hip, accompanied by ribbons wrapped around her thighs, her bustier open like a kind of leather corset, and the jacket that still hasn't been removed from her shoulders.

Nothing in that punk style was typical of her, only the skirt. The rest was a very striking change for her fans.

Spoiler

The black colour highlighted the style that heralded the match, and the punk touch, the wildness that was about to be unleashed. Hopefully, her opponent would get the hint...

Anxious, her chest rose and fell faster. She lifted a heel, feigning calm in the face of the new storm, accommodated her elbows on the ropes in her corner.

The crowd already knew who this beautiful, indomitable rival would be, and of course, the fight looked like it would be difficult, which made them anxious as their favorite girl.

They wanted to see which of the two would be able to win and which would be defeated...

And that difficult challenge was just what a beast Brit was looking for: Gabbie craved an opponent who was more than just a woman to subdue. The First Queen wanted to clash with someone more willing to win than Nova Steele, but who was equally or more problematic. She wanted a real wrestler's nightmare...

She wanted a punisher.

And perhaps that is why her eyes lit up when she realised who her dream opponent would be.

She bit her lip, in love again.

[Malkavia]

Who was Gabriel Vinlee's opponent? She asked a deeper question than she realized.

Dot's theme had a rhythm that bounced. Pink lights swayed over the dark entrance ramp in synchronicity with the synthetic keyboard — and down the middle stalked the woman herself.

Who was she? If by that question you meant something about her history, her name outside the ring or the town she as a child called home, then no one knew. All you had was the mask.

Theme

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxK7LES6xDA

As she sauntered her way towards the ring, she cast her eyes over the audience. Perhaps they looked right back into her, but if so, they would find little beyond the enigma of her pink LED face—a feline smile drawn in pink across the screen that formed her mask. Feline features marked her costume as a whole, from the pointed black carbon-fiber ears on her helmet to the fluidity of her walk. And indeed. She identified with the feline spirit—though only in one, admittedly shallow way. She enjoyed playing with her food.

Who was she? She was the wrestler who projected her feelings through image, sampled audio, and a technological reach that extended like magic to any ring's audio-visual equipment. Viceroy to Spectre, magician with the lights.

Dot

BOOOOOOO!

Ah! La musica. Dot's feats, it seemed, had finally put a lasting mark on some members of the audience. She paused in her march. Her helmet turned left, then right. Their jeers were deep, so deep and so loud they made her ribs vibrate against her skin-tight gear.

Her screen became one huge heart—mirrored in the titantron. It beat, and she bowed. As she did, her music blared. Louder, then still louder, as she bowed more and more deeply until her screen near touched the ground. The crowd shuddered. A group of girls in the front row pressed their hands to her ears.

Dot sang along to the tune, her own voice projected through the speakers alongside the music. "Neeeeeeow! Nee-nee-NEEE-nee Yooooow!" Then she turned on her heel, and continued to the ring.

Who was she? She was the one everybody always wanted to lose. Which is why she treated not losing like her very own mission from God.

Which brought her to today's opponent.

"Gaaaaaabriel Vinlee!"

The last few strands of Dot's theme faded into quiet. The lights went up. Dot settled, leaning back, into her corner.

"Or—excuse my poor manners. To me, I'm guessing it's Queen Vinlee. Queen Vinlee of...you'll have to forgive me. The name has completely slipped my mind. It was a bar—or a pub, I think, is what you people call it."

Dot's screen had returned to the usual feline leer. She tilted her head, and out of the speakers rang the familiar sounds of a bar. A glass clinks, beer sprays into the cup. BOTTOM'S UP! Glug glug glug. "Remind me of the details, won't you, your highness?"

[Hagen-Autem]

Her sharp, vivid emerald eyes lit up at her opponent's entrance—the LED lights along the ramp flickering pink in sync with her entrance theme.

It wasn't that Dot was particularly melodramatic or villainous, it was just that seeing that LED sigil she wore as a faceplate, shining from the entrance to the the darkened mouth of the stage, like a warning before this evil lioness delighted her, showing off her powerful presence and parading down the ramp, not without first thrilling the fans with a volume of music loud enough to rattle bones. Even the lioness's hair in the ring stood on end from the static. However, Gabriel was so absorbed by Dot showing off her dark leotard, her long legs, and bare, powerful thighs that she wasn't overwhelmed.

The way she meowed in rhythm with her theme was charming. Besides, that merciless attitude toward the audience was enough to captivate a queen like Gabriel—could it be that they shared a common contempt?

She was drawn to the way Dot commanded everything around her. Even the attention. Her attention.

The British woman took a step away from her corner, eager for the fight when she saw that feline enter the ring. Slowly, without taking her eyes off the black-clad wrestler, she began to slip her jacket off her shoulders, revealing her nearly bare back to the crowd.

Hearing the other lioness say her name pulled her from her thoughts. A thought crossed her mind: was this scripted… or was she truly controlling LAW’s production system? Is she really as strong as they say? Was Spectre watching from the shadows?

With a subtle shake of her head, she moved forward. A faint smirk tugging at her lips, but she offered no reply to Dot's rude questions. She walked past the referee and casually draped her jacket over the referee. And so, the striking Brit representing a rather peculiar UK pub took her place at the center of the ring. With her arms crossed and one heel raised, she settled into position just as Dot demanded to know her for details of what or why she is a queen.

Gabriel’s only answer was a single gesture—she curled her finger, beckoning her closer.

[Malkavia]

DING DING!

"Oh, I see. Come hither."

Dot's digital eyes narrowed at a pace matched by the expanding edge of her grin. And she did, in fact, come hither—slowly, stalking the edge of wide arc.

"That would please LAW's loyal viewers—a fast, brutal dive into the violence that hangs between us."

As she traced a circumference around Gabriel, Dot kept kept her eyes angled down. Any attack at the distance Dot kept would require a rapid approach, and that would originate in Her Highness's esteemed boots.

But she put the odds against any attack like that. Gabriel, Dot believed, was the type of person who preferred to be approached. Who felt she deserved to bed approached.

"Unfortunately, I'd rather drink a liter of my own piss than please LAW's loyal fucking viewers. Do you know what I prefer?"

Dot drew one leg back, angling herself towards her royal opponent like a fencer. One flat-blade hande outstretched, one fist at her waist, supported on a horse's stance as wide as her smooth helmet was hard.

"A good old fashioned standoff, like they do in all those beautiful old samurai movies. Just me watching you, and you watching me, until one of us guesses we can be fast enough to slip the other's guard."

A lonesome pair of trumpets sounded through the speakers. Was it melodramatic? To the point of parody. But why shouldn't it be? The mood was hers to strangle or fellate as she liked.

[Hagen-Autem]

There was a sparkle of excitement in the jade eyes of that diva when the feline decided to obey her, approaching her, though at a measured pace.

The queen tried to size up her that Tech Kitty, but the voice warped through a glitching synthesizer, along with the cartoonish expressions flickering across the screen that served as her LED face, only made

tense: nothing about that woman was revealing, unless she looked at her body, but that could be very rude — being too early to think about the powerful Dot's legs and abdomen.

Of course, the queen agreed with her: she had been itching to test her strength. That's why she summoned her to the centre of the ring at the start. And of course, neither of them seemed to be the type of woman who would worry about taking the first blow.

If the referee hadn’t called for it yet, he certainly had an easy decision to make — he just had to get away from the impending clash of divas of wrestling.

However, while the queen tried to move things along to get straight to the point, The Hammer of Spectre seemed intent on testing her patience, delaying the clash; monologuing, making it clear she wouldn’t give Gabriel the satisfaction of deciding when to face her.

Dot circled her menacingly as she made her point clear. The blonde narrowed her eyes and turned in place, keeping that black silhouette always in front of her.

Her gaze never left the screen that passed for her face.

Her half-smile sharpened. Her attitude became more impatient, her fingers drumming against her skirt. But she didn't lose her glamour because of her thirst for battle. Dot just excited her.

The Tech Kitty finally stopped prowling around her. Now there were at least five strides separating them, and with the theatricality of an old movie, Dot dropped into a horse stance.

The blonde couldn't hide it: she raised an eyebrow and turned her head to one side, wondering what kind of fighting stance that was. Was she really going with something so theatrical?

Whispers surrounded the ring, thousands of ideas about what would happen now that Dot invited her to fight her own way. A thousand thoughts buzzing like a single restless conscience. Everyone was waiting for the queen's response to the Cat-head's challenge.

Gabriel remained as silent as a beautiful Greek statue for a few seconds, and then she let out a dismissive scoff. The audience roared with laughter, and then she straightened up, rolling her eyes, puffing out her chest, only to deflate immediately. And then she settled into a hands-on-knees stance

The spectators cheered as if that were the best response to such a theatrical challenge. However, silence then fell like a curtain, because neither of them moved. But, amid the absorbing silence created by the anticipation, the sharp glint in Gabriel’s eyes and the knowing smile she aimed at Dot, the world seemed to stop to witness them.

Each faction waited for its female wrestler to advance. The few who supported Dot wanted to see her run like a whirlwind and sweep away the beautiful, indomitable Brit, while those who had followed the queen since her days in the pub longed to see her devour the villain.

One fan dared to take a sip of his drink, just as the timekeeper decided to ring the bell once. Thus, they charged at each other!

The Queen's strides were as long and confident as those of an Olympic runner. It looked like she was going to crash her chest into Dot's body, but at the last moment, she knelt, sliding across the canvas. Her arms cinched tightly around Dot’s waist to cinch her in a strong embrace, crushing her diaphragm and feeling her skin under the spandex. In the tight clinch, her body folded in against the Tech girl’s core — her bust crushed lightly against firm abs, her face tucked close to Dot's chest by the angle of the hold. She exploded upward by a jump, arching back in one fluid motion to throw her into a modified Overhead Belly to Belly Suplex!

Spoiler