Let the Dominos Fall: Drake "Domino" Vyril vs Karen Gale

[Underdoggo]

As Domino's chiseled abs hover away from her, Karen breathes hard, chest pumping as she tries to get her battered body moving again. It's sluggish, and slow to respond. Too slow to prevent Domino from lifting her up, pulling her up into a staggered standing position. She braces herself, expecting him to go for a whip towards the ropes, or to set up a slam, or--

She feels his muscled chest pressing against her mostly bare back, and then his arms are wrapping around her abdomen. She gasps, mostly out of surprise, her hands instinctively going to Domino's wrists. Then he comments about how he's not just a pretty boy.

Seriously, he was offended by that? Karen had just been stating facts--

And then the squeeze come on. Domino's arms, already coiled around her waist, compress, and this time actual pain surges through her midsection and back as Domino's impressive upper body strength crushes around her waist. She bites back a cry of pain, teeth clenched, body instinctively leaning back against Domin's so that her back pressed further against his chest. She can feel his controlled breathing on her neck and ear, and despite herself, blushes a little. Though that's partly from shortness of breath and from effort as she is now desperately trying to wrench Domino's arms free from around her waist.

"Urrrghhk..." Thinking quickly, she pressed her boots against the mat and backpedals, trying to push Domino towards the corner post. If she's lucky, she'll ram him with enough force to stun him; otherwise, she hopes, she'll at least trap him in the corner long enough for the ref to force a release...

[CyanDimitrik]

Life's complicated.

It doesn't cross his mind that it might be benign. Or that it might even be an expected remark, all things considered. Such is the result of relentless, specifically targeted insults and career damage. But nailing her with that hit felt like adequate payback, even if she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. The fact that she's physically appealing on every level certainly helps.

He compresses inwards against her midsection, hugging her sweating body hard against his own. Her lower back meets a wall of abdominal muscle, her backside locked tight against his hips, her shoulders snug against his defined pectorals. All the while, his forearms bury in hard against her belly, squeezing the muscle tight. The groan was proof positive enough that he was making headway with her, but he didn't intend to keep it going this way - he just needed her stunned.

Still, it's difficult to not be at least slightly enamored with the feel of her nearly-bare body grappling with his; the feel of her muscled figure struggling against his own, skin against skin, figure against figure. The fact that she's her, with that face, voice, accent, and figure, drive this from feeling like the rawest kind of wrestling into something flavored more sensual and dominance-seeking; not something he can mentally disconnect for himself. Karen may even feel that proof against her hips as they struggle together, every squirm grinding them tighter into one another.

She manages to start forcing them backwards, step by halting step. Domino accommodates slowly in favor of not losing his grip on her, until his back meets the turnbuckle pad. But he refuses to release her waist from the pressure, instead using the back-leverage to clench in harder and try to raise her slightly off her feet!

"Corner! Break it up! One! Two!," the referee begins counting.

Domino quickly sets her back down on her feet and slides his arms loose, palms briefly sliding along her toned midsection along the way to lifting in proof of ended contact. Of course, that is if she doesn't continue leaning on him.

[Underdoggo]

Karen's backpedal isn't quite the relentless, speedy surge that she was hoping it was: Domino's stance is rigid and firm, and while she manages to force him back, it is a step by step affair, each backward move feeling like an accomplishment in and of itself. All the while of course, he keeps squeezing her, forearms digging hard into her firm abs. She is breathing through clenched teeth now, sweat beading along her shoulders and toned midsection, sliding down against Domino's skin where it contacts hers. In the midst of this struggle, Karen feels all the more painfully aware of the contours of Domino's finely sculpted body pressing tightly against hers...even of something hard and firm pressing up against her thigh. Despite herself, her face grows redder even as the two wrestlers grunt and twist in their struggle for supremacy.

Then, finally, after what feels like an eternity, she gets his back against the corner. And from there, the ref quickly does the countdown to make him let go. Obligingly, Domino's arms slide loose from their vice grip around her waist, letting her feet hit touch the mat again.

A gasp of relief escapes Karen's lips, but she doesn't stop leaning against him. Not yet, anyway. After enduring that squeeze, she's annoyed, and eager for payback; taking one step away from Domino, she spins around to face him and ducks low, aiming to ram one, two, three shoulder-spears into that perfect abdomen of his; given how her own abs are still sore from getting squeezed like that, she is more than a little eager to repay the favour!