Unexpected Domino Effect - Brielle & Domino.

[Afterhoursclub]

There definitely was a moment in which Brielle blacked out, if only for a few seconds, but it happened-

When she came back, her brain had to "refamiliarize" with the scene, her current context: Every single muscle on her body was hurting like hell, she was rapidly drawing short breaths, heart pumping fast, and now... a pulsating headache, a consequence of the hard slam against the locker. The Brit was lying down on her side, cheek pressed against the cold floor, feeling the weight of her eyelids increasing.

"Uughh..." A few moans escaped her lips, lacking the strength to stand up by herself.

If it had been up to her, Brielle could have easily stayed there, motionless for the rest of the night until staff members or other fighters found her the next day. Having already burned the last of what little stamina she had left... after the grueling encounter, and the start of their impromptu "rematch" with the model.

However, it didn't really take much brainpower to predict that Domino would have different plans for her... for them.

"Hmph... Fuck... off..." She muttered under her breath, noticing the Model's shadow already looming over her, his eyes beaming among his obscured features while standing between her and the ceiling lamps. Still fighting the fact that she could not move to defend herself... even though her sharpest weapon had never been any of her muscles-

"Enjoying... ugh... yourself, p-pretty boy?" She spat out, about the only thing she could do at that moment.

A pained grunt, when her arm was yanked, forcing her to stand up, and then she was turned around as if she was nothing more than a prop, having no strength left to push the model back.

Without wasting a single second, Domino pressed their figures together, locking her legs with his own, trapping her right arm behind his back, effectively rendering the limb useless, and locking his arm behind her neck to trap her in a textbook Abdominal stretch. His bare torso was grinding against her back while twisting her entire frame.

"Arghh... ahh..." The strain was immediate; every single muscle in her abdominal region tensed against her will, her back burning with each passing second, her abs began to pop up from under her slick skin due to the constant tension of the stretch, and almost every limb of hers was immobilized.

Her whole face contorted into a pained grimace, baring her teeth and closing her eyes. Her only free limb clawing desperately at his knee, but the padding negated any significant damage.

"Ohh... F-Fuck..." Her entire abdomen was on fire. She shook her head before turning toward him, her eyes focusing on his purple orbs. A mixture of anger and tiredness at first, until a faint smirk drew across the corner of her mouth. Hitting at a small bit of enjoyment, even in such a predicament...

"T- this... all you... got?" She shot, between gritted teeth.

[CyanDimitrik]

Anger was a thing Domino wasn't quite expecting to see. But thankfully, it quickly vanished into something... a little more familiar. Going too rough wasn't his original intention. That one, he's laying on her! But he's not going to pretend that the last moments of their match didn't beg for a follow-up. And the way she'd gone for him when it came down to it all but confirmed it to him.

So, regrets? Here? Not really. She's goading him on. Dare he suppose it, she's even indulging. There's no way he's going to deny her. Or himself, at this point.

"Not a chance..."

He could feel how little resistance she could offer him at this point. He could take his time with her now, to enjoy it. So as he straightens himself further, wrenching the woman sideways at an ever-increasing angle, he lets his hand slide inwards again. Fingers begin coursing along skin, feeling out the firm ridges of her abdominals just beneath the hem of her corset.

"Just giving you a chance to breathe first. Gotta have enough air to scream for me," he teases.

His palm comes to rest flush against the center of her taut midsection, fingers splayed. He leans back, stretching her tighter, reducing the chance to clench and brace before suddenly pressing his fingertips hard into her midsection, isolating her core abdominal muscles and squeezing in an abdominal stretch-stomach claw combination. The Sterling Stretch!

[Afterhoursclub]

There was only the heat of their figures tightly pressed against each other, and the friction of their skin rubbing together with each movement, each pull, and each twist. All of it keeps the competitive nature of the impromptu encounter, while casting a new intimate light over it... as much as this was already obvious almost from the very beginning.

Brielle was now completely trapped; her upper and lower body turned in different directions, putting a great deal of strain on her midsection. Her skin glistened under the locker room lights, stretched taut, revealing the trained abs underneath.

Brielle shook her head. The goth's arms flailed wildly in the air, but they did little to stop Domino from wrenching the hold even more. Prompting a hollow and almost instinctive cry from Brielle. His fingers slid down the middle of her toned abdomen, tracing the folds and spaces between each of her stretched and exposed abdominal muscles, slowly exploring every inch of her anatomy.

"Uughh!" The tension increased, and the Devilish goth could do nothing more than watch the model delight himself in one of her most notorious attributes. Her hips started shaking, a product of being forced to bear the weight of both in a rather uncomfortable position.

"Hmph... keep this up..." she raised her head to get a better look at Domino, "And I'll -ugh- I'll start thinking... you're jealous..."

His hand stopped flat over her belly, letting him sense the involuntary trembling of her muscles battling the hyperextension of the core, and the rise and fall of her chest, her uneven breathing

Then, the claw came- soft caresses from her fingers stopped abruptly when these dug deep into her skin, passing a thick sheen of sweat and grabbing a tight hold of her abdominal wall, clenching it hard, pulling every fiber of her abdominals as he tried to turn his hand into a fist.

A pained shriek escaped her- loud enough to alert anyone who might have been close to the room's entrance at that moment. She clenched her teeth tight, as her face contorted in a painful grimace once more. Brielle's entire body flinched, but it was forced to remain in place and absorb the localized claw in its entirety, ironically turning her prized conditioning into her biggest disadvantage.

"Ughh... I´ll-...hmph!" Brielle tried to speak, but it was as if the very words she was about to say were suddenly stopped inside of her. Struggling to break the hold, but to no avail.

[CyanDimitrik]

"Don't get me wrong," Domino says to the suffering girl while exploring her etched midsection, "it's not jealousy. Just admiration!"

Unabashed admiration at this point; reveling, in fact, in the smooth bumps and ridges of her stomach. She'd worked hard to define her abdomen in this way, and now that it's just the two of them, there's no reason to not make it clear how much he's into it.

When the clench begins and the hold evolves into the Sterling Stretch proper, she lets out a scream that tenses his nerves. He shoots a quick look to the door - nothing. No one coming in. What kind of bizarre place the LAW arena must be, where that kind of thing doesn't merit a response! There must already be... assumptions, he figures. And he's fine with that. He expects Brielle is, too. That their moment together here, tonight, would be interrupted by an impromptu visitor wouldn't be satisfying for either of them.

Every bit of tension, every squirm, every flex of her muscles in response or in protest is felt in their tangled state. It's part of the thrill of securing the hold on her where it won't be disrupted, where she's become effectively his for however long he cares to keep her. And similarly, the heavy and rapid pounding of his heart could easily be felt against her back, due strictly to the tightness of their physiques' press. His hips against hers, the tightening of his thigh over her leg to keep it isolated, every breath causing them to brush together emphasized in the moment.

"You'll what?," he asks, tipping his head a little closer to hers as she looks up at him. He wears an eager, wry smile, lost to the absurdity of the moment and their continuing clash, their struggle for dominance over the other.

His hand relaxes against her stomach again, deliberately giving her a chance to take a few shallow breaths in that contorted stance. His palm brushes heavily against the pit of her stomach, exploring affectionately over the pebbled grooves of her abs before settling in, centering his palm against her navel a second time and gripping his fingers into her abdominal muscles.

[Afterhoursclub]

Although wrestling was a sport where the momentum of a match could change incredibly quickly, where one person could dominate the entire time, only for the other to make some sort of miraculous comeback, it was a sport where one had to be prepared to endure hardships and adversity while battling physically imposing opponents; even with all those things present in the very nature of wrestling... it was very rare for Brielle to end up in a situation where she was left with virtually no options available, totally controlled and completely at the mercy of her opponent.

And... that's exactly where she found herself precisely at this moment. Admittedly, Domino was by far not the worst person to be dominated by... the mere fact that she couldn't do anything to free herself was burning her inside... figuratively...

While her entire midsection was literally burning due to the model's iron grip on her abs.

"Grahhh..." Another cry escaped Brielle, feeling how Domino's fingers kept digging into her gut, causing her whole abdominal wall to tense involuntarily, an automatic response of her body in an attempt to protect itself. But the constant tension made it difficult for Brielle to breathe properly, and it was consuming what little stamina she had left. Her teeth pressed together so hard that her jaw started to ache. She shook her head from side to side, while her one free arm fully extended in the air, trying to reach something that wasn't there...

Up until the moment when the pressure eased.

Still trapped in the abdominal stretch, Brielle's head fell low, hanging limply just like her free arm. Her shoulders rose and fell as she sucked in as much air into her lungs as she could. With several strands of her dark and crimson hair dangling like wet noodles in front of her face. Large beads of sweat fell to the floor under them. The friction of their bodies rubbing in the struggle was creating enough heat for both of them to feel it.

Brielle's core was finally allowed to relax after what felt like an eternity for the Brit; her skin had assumed a notorious reddish coloring, but the sustained tension had made her abs look even more defined, as if she had just finished a hundred sit-ups.

Between ragged breaths, she spoke again, turning her head toward Domino's.

"I- I'll... show you... my admiration..."

She shook her body again, trying to break the man's hold.

"As... soon- as I g-get out..."

She remained trapped, only able to watch as Domino's fingers once again took hold of her abs.