The Trial of Bast: Eshe Abdallah vs. Katsumi Oshiro

[ScoutLils]

Eshe was reeling, already on the back foot of the match, figuratively and quite literally. The arm bash to her back just made the pain spike even higher, her mind completely taken over by the aches. The violet’s hand rests against her spine, hoping to ease her woes but her rival had other plans. Katsumi grabbed her free wrist, tugging her away from the safety of the ropes before she was unceremoniously rolled onto her back to lay flat. She immediately began to panic, Katsumi already made it clear she had no intention of showing any signs of stopping from their short interaction. The Punkette was in their knees beside the Egyptian; instinctively her ebony toned arm shoots up to defend her face only to find no attack incoming.

Instead she felt their weight press against her abdomen as her right leg was hooked up by their arm. Her breath hitches in her throat as she felt their leg slide down her own to hook up her free leg. Their thigh locking up her own made the ebony toned woman’s skin burn with what she could only explain as embarrassment. Her hand was locked down as Katsumi seemed to lock eyes with her. Eshe mistook this sneering look as a competitive push.

Before she knew it the referee was already on the mat, beginning her count, her ragged breath sharpens as the first count rings out. ”ONE!” Eshe grits her teeth, focusing up on breaking free, she crunches her body as much as she can in her current position. ”TWO!”. The crowd is definitely in an uproar, some condemning Katsumi, some egging her on, but there was those voices coming through urging her on.

”THR-!” Just as the third count out of the five was coming, Eshe practically explodes. Her legs kick outward as her back arches with all her might in her bid to break the pin. She’d even go so far as to shoot up her free hand against their shoulder to push them away. If her sudden burst caught her rival off guard, she’d use that oppurtunity to recover and put some distance between them.

She was already off to a bad start but her own pride and the excitement of a challenge surged, lighting a fire in her chest.

[CyanDimitrik]

As Katsumi lies there across Eshe's belly, her own pressing into the considerably more richly tanned skin of her rival, she can appreciate that the girl is terribly beautiful. Long, luxurious hair, big pretty eyes, exotic skin, a tight body. Even her personality seems fun. Fun to pick on! Easy to use to get the crowd riled up! And maybe Eshe's a little too sweet for her own good. It's kind of endearing, she supposes, as she watches the girl's face.

The two count lands. Katsumi's arm squeezes the captive leg, her fingers pressing into the thigh. The other leg shifts, bringing her inner-thigh to lightly brush against Eshe's as the pin is subtly reasserted. Her other hand squeezes the elbow, and her back arches, ensuring no space between them; toned belly to toned belly. She hoods her gaze at the Egyptian bunny-esque girl beneath her, the look confidently teasing.

Alright, so Eshe is very pretty. And that look she's giving her is an enticing kind of fiery. For as much as she's inwardly enjoying asserting dominance over her in as bodily a way as she can imagine, she wants to continue roughing her up. She wants to continue hearing her cry out. She wants to extinguish that defiance until it becomes either pure submission or quiet, defeated acceptance. That's the real thrill of professional wrestling for her. The moment where she lies over the other woman, conquering her.

The referee starts to declare the third count, and in an instant, Katsumi feels Eshe's core tighten against her. It's the most immediate telltale sign for a grappling session that the other person is about to use explosive force. And though Katsumi tries to redouble her hold on her, Eshe is still too fresh. Still too spunky. The legs kick out and her back arches in counter to Katsumi's weight, stomach pushing her off of her to shift back onto her knees.

Katsumi rests there a moment, smirking at her.

"Could'a just laid there and took it," she chides as she picks herself up. "Now I gotta beat'cha up. Don't worry, though! I promise I'll enjoy it."

She shoots her a wink. The tease.

And then the Punk Princess is closing in, seeking to grab onto Eshe's left arm with one hand and a fistful of her brilliant purple hair in the other, seeking to haul her to her feet.