Here Be Monsters: Fran Douglas (D) vs Katsumi Oshiro

[CyanDimitrik]

Somewhere between the visceral impact of Fran's back connecting with a knee and the sight of her hanging suspended, seemingly broken, over the leg struck a chord with the audience. There was an eruption, a new crescendo of volume at the sight of Fran's seemingly broken body strewn across the Punk Princess's knee. And Katsumi reveled in it. She reveled in all of it. Fran's screams, the feel of her body struggling in her grasp, to the feel of everything going slack upon her knee and within her arms.

Still supporting Fran's shoulders with her left arm, the right moves instead to the girl's stomach - now arched prominently over her knee. The punkette smirks, fingers curling against the skin, grazing briefly over the navel as if to tease the idea that she might go right back into that particular field of torture. It's tempting. She loves breaking down an opponent's midsection, focusing on the gut, tearing down their abdominal defenses. But in this particular moment, she wants something else, something more stable and dramatic.

She could appreciate that this 'vampire slayer', this Fran, is a pretty girl - slender, toned body, trim curves. It'll make a hell of a silhouette for magazine covers. Just not in the way she probably hoped.

Or, a part of Katsumi's mind unhelpfully chimes in, maybe it's exactly what she wanted; her debut to be on magazines, even if broken and at the mercy of a rising star. It's a sardonic thought. But, what the Hell. If that's what she wanted, she'll give it to her. She earned the torture the moment she made an appearance on her dime.

The hand slides down along Fran's belly, coursing briefly against her hips before fingers hook against the base, anchoring between her legs. The left arm finally slips from behind Fran's narrow shoulders, setting her hand instead beneath her chin. And finally, with everything in place, Katsumi's arms flex to begin pumping downwards, arching her body in a rack against her knee.

Every few seconds, she'd push harder, trying to force the top of Fran's head inches closer to touching the top of the mat. The curvature of her breasts sink closer and closer over her torso, until the faint brush of Katsumi's studded bralet brushes against her tautly stretched stomach.