Marcella Crowe vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - Design In Malice

[BlackAkuma]

Army wasn’t the fastest wrestler by any real measure, but he wasn’t slow, either, and he could give some real momentum to his blows if he had half a chance. At this distance, he was confident he could crash into Marcella with enough force to send her flailing over the barricade and into the crowd. Strong as she was, even she’d get laid out by a kick to the face.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to find out - at least, not now. As it turned out, Marcella was also a member of the ‘Faster Than They Look’ club, and she was deftly able to dip under the boot. That meant trouble. Big trouble. ”Shit-”

‘Shit’ was right. She came up a moment later, grabbing his leg and getting close, way closer than he would’ve wanted. She gave him a hint about what was coming, but he didn’t really need it. He knew.

Sure enough, he went for a right, as Marcella lifted him and sent him careening over the barricade, arms and legs flailing as he flew through space. He came down hard on his shoulder, landing on the chair and sending them scattering, as popcorn and cheap drinks exploded all around him. He tumbled once, then twice, before he came to a rest on his chest.

”That…that sucked.” He grumbled under his breath and stubbornly started to push his way up, but it was slow going all the way.

[ADarlingDucky]

Army's boot swung by with so much force that it nearly rustled Marcella's hair out of place, something she would have been none too pleased about should he actually managed to hit her. Her hair might have stayed in place that way, but it most certainly would have sent her careening over the barricade. Instead, it was with one quick movement that she managed to catch him, ducking down and letting his leg fold up awkwardly against his body as her arms wrapped around him, cinching like a vice and snapping shut, her trap bringing him in nice and close, with no room left to respect personal space. It gave Marcella the chance to shoot him a look full of smug satisfaction, as Army hissed out a curse at the realization of what came next, and then he was suddenly airborne, flung overhead and into the mess of abandoned chairs behind them.

The explosion of sound as Army came down was more than enough to signal just how rough that landing was. Metal clattered this way and that as anything that had been in his way was thrown violently, several chairs flying and sliding back, and in the end, Army was left surrounded what had been lucky enough to survive his landing. It was quite the scene, and as he lay among the strewn about seating, Marcella would turn and eye him with an amused gaze, before slowly swinging a leg over the barricade. Any who though that she may wait for him to rise, and return this fight to the ring, would find that there was no hope of that, as she hopped over and strode over to the rising, looking down at him as she reached the landing zone.

"Sure looked like it sucked." Marcella responded to his hisses of pain, before she swung a foot out and planted it on his chest, stopping his rise with a kick that she aimed to send him toppling back onto his ass. "Better you than me though. But you know what, I'm feeling just a little generous. So why don't I give you a second. Take a seat and rest. Here, I'll even do the same." It seemed like an odd thing to say with the advantage, but as Marcella pushed him backwards with her foot, Army would soon find himself pushed against one of the chairs that had survived, with the goth suddenly reaching down and pushing his head back, forcing him onto the seat and leaving him staring up.

"Found my spot!" And with that, Marcella would swing a leg over Army, and with almost zero pomp or circumstance, drop herself directly onto the man's upturned face. In a flash, the heavyweight's thick, pale ass would completely smother Army, leaving his face buried in her thick rear end as she leaned back against the chair, letting out a pleasant sigh, a smug smirk seen on her face as she relaxed atop her foe!

[BlackAkuma]

Fuck, she was coming.

Army could see Marcella climbing over the barricade from the corner of his eye, and he willed his body to move and get up to meet her, but it just wasn’t having any of that quite yet. That hadn't been a soft landing, to put it mildly. The hard floor outside the ring made for a bad landing pad, to say nothing of the chairs he’d crashed into. It was a miracle he wasn’t banged up at worse, but as it was, he was dealing with an aching spine and his right arm was numbed up. Nothing permanent, but nothing that was going to get better for days. Damn sure not in the next few seconds.

He grunted as she gave him a stiff kick in the chest and pushed him around, not entirely sure what she was doing but not minding too much. Whatever she had in mind, it was already much gentler than what she could’ve been doing right now - like, say, blasting her with a chair. He didn't put up much of a fight, wanting to conserve energy.

He changed that tune when she planted his head in the chair, and he realized what her goal was. ”Hey, wait, wait-”

Army’s protests were cut off as Marcella’s thick, muscular ass came over his face, completely engulfing his features with pale flesh. He went into a thrashing fit, twisting and turning beneath her, but that only served to wedge his face deeper within her cheeks. He pushed at her legs, but the position was too awkward for him to get anywhere with that, she wasn’t budging.

For now, all he could do was squirm and groan, the sound echoing through her body.

[ADarlingDucky]

Pursuing Army outside of the ring, Marcella's climb over the barricade left the pair exiting what would be considered a normal match, and very quickly moving into a brawl outside, with Army having cleared quite the nice patch of space to do so. The heavyweight goth stalked towards her opponent, a slow walk up to him as he struggled to get back up to his feet in a move that seemed more fit for a slasher movie than a wrestling match, before she reached him, and with relative ease, kicked him backwards against a nearby chair. Given how her back was still hurting after being Samoan dropped on the outside of the ring, it felt good to know that Army was in a relatively similar amount of pain. And given his reaction as she forced his head back onto the seat of the chair, it seemed that he knew where she was headed with her talk of taking a brief respite, unable to stop her from turning and dropping her thick rear directly on his face!

Oh yeah, this was nice.

It was truly the perfect way to take a breather, since Army wasn't getting ANY breath at all where he was. Marcella was quite the shredded woman, but she also still had exceptional curves, and her large, round ass did a wonderful job of covering her foe's face, using him as a seat cushion while she took a moment to reach behind and rub her back. That drop had hurt like hell, and she was ever-so-slightly annoyed that she had been caught out of the air like that. Didn't do well to give the impression that despite her size, she still could be muscled around. Of course, Army was paying for it all the same, and after a few moments, Marcella would throw her arms into the air with a deep stretch, arching her back and letting out a groan, before glancing over her shoulder at the top of Army's head.

"Easy with all the moaning down there, I'm trying to relax here. You act like this is your first time getting your face sat on." Marcella's tone sounded like she were annoyed at the idea that Army didn't appreciate his position more. Of course, that position was currently depriving him of air, not to mention the fact that Marcella wasn't exactly a light woman. But, all the same, she'd remain planted for a few more seconds before finally standing up off of him, and letting him breathe.

"Well, back to it, eh?" She smirked, turning before reaching down to Army, looking to grab hold of his arms and wrench him up towards his feet, only for Marcella to drop down and look to sling him over her shoulder, hefting him into a fireman's carry! And then, spying a pile of chairs that had been knocked down nearby, she would step over to them, getting into position, before attempting to flip Army up and over off of her shoulders, spinning him in the air before bringing him down with an attitude adjustment, right on the pile!

[BlackAkuma]

Okay, so, no, this was not Army’s first time being facesat. It was pretty much impossible for a male wrestler not to get an ass or two shoved in their face, even if you genuinely stayed away from the lewder matches. Sex sold, and people loved a good facesitting, so it came with the territory. He wasn’t exactly keeping track, but if he had to guess? He’d had his face sat on about twenty times. Give or take. Once by another man, even, which he’d been pretty pissed about at the time, but at least the guy in question kept his cheeks pretty clean.

This was different, though. In those other cases, he’d been in the middle of a hentai match when he got facesat, or at least a standard match that had gotten a little raunchy. This was way more hardcore, rapidly becoming a street fight, and Marcella hadn't struck him as the type to use her assets this way. And yet, here he was, with her muscled, sweaty ass in his face.

Not all that unpleasant, being honest. He wouldn’t say he was into facesitting, but he wouldn’t say he wasn't, either. It just kind of depended on the mood. She had a good amount of muscle back here, nice and plush, and it did a good job covering his face. By the time she brought it away, he was a gasping, heaving mess.

”You…absolutely…suck.”

He might have been free of her ass, but that didn’t mean he was out of the woods just yet. Before he could rise on his own, Marcella reached down and gave him some ‘help’ - pulling him up, forcing him over her shoulders into a fireman’s carry. He had a pretty good idea of what was coming next, but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it.

Up and over and down he went, crashing hard into the chairs and creating even more carnage. As the audience raged around them, he laid there, surrounded by twisted metal, groaning and hissing at the pain. The referee came over and kept a safe distance as she started her count. ”1!”

[ADarlingDucky]

Marcella took a real good, long time to enjoy herself while sitting down on Army's face, leaning back against the chair and simply allowing her full weight to smother the man underneath her, all while she simply looked over at the fans, who had took to standing after the explosion of chairs, and offering a wave. If Army had thought that a muscled frame and goth look meant she wasn't willing to bust out some of the usual LAW tactics, than he was definitely finding himself sorely mistaken in the current moment. Marcella was actually quite the enjoyer of a good smother, though the only unusual part of this particular instance came from the fact that she was using these tactics against a male opponent so early. Marcella wasted no opportunity to tease her female foes, but usually the males who happened to cross paths with the goth were a bit more... unlucky.

Still, Army probably wouldn't consider himself that lucky overall. Once Marcella finally stood up, he would only offer a brief, panting statement, one that forced a smile to her face as she hauled him off of the ground and onto her shoulders.

"Aw, Army. You're gonna hurt my feelings if you keep up like that." There was slim chance of that, but what there was a much greater chance of was Marcella hurting Army's body in response, as she suddenly flipped him off of her shoulders and brought him crashing down onto the pile of discarded chairs! The impact was another cacophonous crash of metal as Army landed hard, left as flat as he could lay atop the pile on his back, while the referee stood safely distanced, beginning a slow count to see if he could rise!

"This better?" Marcella smirked, only to step over and sit down on Army, this time planting herself on his midsection as she let the referee count. If Army wanted to get up and continue on in this match, he was going to need to not only shake off the pain, but also get Marcella off of what she had decided was her new chair to do so!

[BlackAkuma]

”2!”

”Yeah, yeah, I know.”

”3!”

”You don’t have to say it so loud.”

Army grumbled to himself as he writhed about on the floor, dealing with the pain of the crash. As bad as it was, it wasn’t the end of the world. He was hurting, but not so much that standing up was beyond the realm of possibility. He just needed a couple of seconds. No need to rush.

”4!”

At least, there wasn’t until Marcella came over and plopped her muscled behind on his stomach, pinning him to the floor. He grunted at the impact and glared up at her, as he began his futile struggles. Rising was one thing, but doing so with a giant goth on his stomach was a far different thing. He thrashed about beneath her, but the woman was just too heavy. It wasn’t happening.

”6!”

What the hell? What happened to six? He must have missed it when Marcella was talking. Whatever the case, he was running out of time and options. But there was one close at hand that he could see…

Army stretched out of, straining, as if he was making an effort to throw her off. What he was really doing, however, was reaching for one of the nearby chairs, which he promptly grabbed hold of and swung upwards, trying to clock Marcella in the face before she could realize what was going on.