Unfinished Business | Matilda vs. Mitzi — Backstage Brawl

[Weonna]

Matilda remained slumped against the wall, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she struggled to recover from the body splash. Her stomach felt painfully tight, and even the smallest movement sent an uncomfortable ache through her battered muscles. She could hear Mitzi taunting her, but the words seemed distant beneath the ringing in her ears.

Before she could gather enough strength to respond, Mitzi seized her arms and dragged her upright.

“Nh…! L-Lass mich…!”

Her legs barely cooperated. Matilda staggered forward, attempting to plant her boots firmly against the floor, only for another attack to interrupt her recovery.

THWACK!

“HUUUOOOFF!!”

The knee drove straight into her midsection!

Matilda doubled over sharply, her mouth opening as the impact emptied her lungs. Her knees threatened to buckle, and she instinctively tried to curl around the injured area, only to find Mitzi's grip preventing her from collapsing.

A strained, breathless cough escaped her lips.

“Kh… khh…!”

Her abdominal muscles were already exhausted from absorbing punishment, and the knee had struck before they could fully recover. Matilda's forehead dipped toward her chest, her face twisted into a grimace as she struggled to draw air through clenched teeth.

She hardly noticed herself being dragged farther down the corridor.

Then—

THUD!

“AAHCK!”

An elbow struck her back, jolting her upright!

The sudden impact sent a sharp sensation across her spine, forcing her shoulders backward. Matilda stumbled, her arms momentarily spreading as she tried to regain her balance.

That was when she felt Mitzi seize them from behind.

Her eyes widened as both arms were hooked, leaving her unable to bring her hands forward to protect herself.

Then her boots left the floor.

“W-Was machst du—?!”

Matilda's powerful legs kicked instinctively as she was hoisted into the air. Her body tensed, her shoulders straining against the hold while she desperately searched for something to brace against.

Below her, she caught sight of the medicine ball.

Her stomach dropped.

WHAAAAM!!

“GHHHAAAAAAAUUUGHHH!!!”

Matilda crashed down stomach-first onto the medicine ball!

The rounded surface concentrated the impact directly against her already battered abdomen, compressing her torso before the rest of her body struck the hard floor. The collision sent a jarring shock through her ribs and back, leaving her momentarily unable to coordinate her limbs.

Her scream broke into a strangled gasp.

For several seconds, Matilda could do little more than lie there, her body curled awkwardly around the ball. Her boots scraped against the floor as her legs drew inward, while her shoulders trembled from the effort of trying to breathe.

Her arms had finally been released, but she couldn't immediately use them. One lay stretched beside her head while the other slowly moved toward her stomach, fingers trembling.

The pressure against her abdomen was unbearable.

Matilda attempted to push herself off the medicine ball, managing only a few inches before her strength faltered. She slipped sideways, rolling off it and landing heavily on her hip.

Her knees pulled toward her chest as she curled onto her side, both forearms now shielding her midsection.

The German powerhouse had endured countless hard landings throughout her wrestling and MMA career, but this was different. There had been no ring canvas to absorb the impact, no opportunity to prepare herself, and no chance to defend the same area Mitzi had relentlessly targeted during their previous encounter.

Her breathing remained shallow and irregular.

Not again… please, not like last time…

Matilda squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the humiliating memories threatening to overwhelm her.

She tried to get onto her hands and knees.

Her right palm pressed against the floor. Her shoulders lifted slightly.

But the moment she attempted to engage her abdominal muscles, a fresh wave of pain forced her back down.

“Uhhh… Scheiße…”

Her arm gave out beneath her.

Matilda collapsed onto her side again, red hair spilling across her face as she lay curled beside the medicine ball.

For now, the once-defiant powerhouse was in a terrible position: grounded, struggling for breath, and unable to rise quickly enough to defend herself against whatever Mitzi intended next.

[Fairy Dragon]

Matilda's pain was pleasing to witness, Mitzi knew that the women could put up a fight and potentially escape. Things had to go right for Mitzi to make the most of it, and this was exactly what she needed. Afterall the point of this fight wasn't just pain, pain was what she delivered last time and Matilda showed up anyway completely undaunted by her previous fate. Today pain was just the side effect of her real goal...psychological fear. She wanted Mitzi's mere presence to be associated with pain, fear, humiliation, and overall danger. She wanted the mere thought of Mitzi to send shivers down Matilda's spine and she was going to accomplish that by any means necessary. She grabbed the medicine ball and kicked Matilda over to her back putting her stomach on display again before Mitzi simply dropped it down on her. But the moment it landed she would fall too, putting both of her hands on it and holding it in place. Then without wasting much time Mitzi would start doing improvised push-ups on the medicine ball while it remained on Matilda's stomach causing her weight to push on it more and continue to bury it in Matilda's gut all while Mitzi stared down the suffering Matilda with smug indifference.

After the 5th push up she finally stopped and got on her knees pulling the ball out while crawling up Matilda's body, hand going to her face and whipping the hair away so that she could get a good look at Matilda's face. "Trust me sweetheart, you'll want to see this." Mitzi warned. She'd put the ball down for a second and pull Matilda's hands up so that she could move forward and sit on them, trapping her hands and keeping them out of the way. Picking the ball back up she would smile down at Matilda's face before raising the medicine ball again! It only stayed up long enough for Matilda to see her future unfold before it came crashing down on her stomach, Mitzi using it like a club to bash her stomach! She'd push down on it and then pull it out to smash her again, winding it all the way back behind her before she'd send it forward, and then would pull it away to do it a third time, keeping her torture and focus on Matilda's helpless frame, and using a workout too to get the job done.

[Weonna]

Matilda lay curled on her side, still recovering from her stomach-first collision with the medicine ball. Her breathing was ragged, and every attempt to straighten her battered torso sent a fresh ache through her abdomen.

She barely registered Mitzi approaching until a boot struck her side, forcing her onto her back.

“Ughh…! Was zum—?”

Her eyes widened when she spotted the medicine ball hovering directly above her.

THUMP!

“HUUURRRGH!!”

The ball dropped squarely onto her stomach, drawing a violent contraction from the German's abdominal muscles. Her knees shot upward, boots scraping against the floor as she instinctively tried to curl around the object.

But Mitzi's hands were already pressing down.

Matilda's expression twisted when she realized what was happening.

The first push-up.

“Nnnghhh!!”

Mitzi's descending weight forced the ball deeper against her abdomen. Matilda's back flattened against the floor, her fingers clawing uselessly at the rounded surface.

The pressure briefly eased.

Then came another repetition.

“H-HAAAGH!”

Her heels dug into the floor. She tried twisting her hips to dislodge the ball, but the slightest movement only aggravated her aching midsection.

By the third repetition, Matilda's resistance had deteriorated into frantic, disorganized movements. Her hands alternated between pushing at the ball and grabbing Mitzi's wrists, neither attempt accomplishing much.

The fourth forced a breathless cough from her throat.

The fifth left her trembling.

“Kh… hhh… ahh…”

When Mitzi finally removed the ball, Matilda immediately rolled partway onto her side, trying to protect her stomach. Her abdomen felt painfully compressed, and she couldn't seem to take a satisfying breath.

Enough… I need to get up…

She attempted to lift herself onto one elbow.

Instead, she felt Mitzi climbing over her.

“G-Get… away…”

Matilda flinched as her red hair was swept away from her face. Her eyes struggled to focus on the prizefighter looming above her, and she turned her head aside in a mixture of anger and humiliation.

Then Mitzi seized her wrists.

“Hey—! Lass los!”

Her arms were pulled upward and trapped beneath Mitzi's weight. Matilda bucked her hips, attempting to wrench one arm free, but the movement sent a painful spasm through her abdomen.

She stopped abruptly, biting back a groan.

And then she saw the medicine ball again.

Raised directly above her.

For a moment, Matilda forgot to struggle.

Her gaze followed the ball, her expression shifting from disbelief to genuine alarm.

Sie macht das nicht wirklich…

WHUMP!!

“GUUOOOHHH!!”

The first blow struck her stomach with a heavy, muffled impact!

Matilda's entire body jolted beneath Mitzi. Her head snapped backward against the floor, and her legs kicked outward before drawing sharply inward again.

She attempted to scream, but the impact had stolen her breath. What escaped instead was a strained, rasping sound.

Her abdominal muscles clenched helplessly around the point of impact.

When the ball was lifted away, Matilda's chest heaved.

She barely managed one short inhalation before seeing it rise again.

“W-Warte…!”

THUD!!

“AAAUUURGH!!”

The second blow landed!

Matilda's boots hammered against the floor as her body instinctively tried to recoil. Her trapped arms strained beneath Mitzi, fingers opening and closing in desperation.

A sharp ache spread across her already bruised stomach, and her vision briefly blurred.

She couldn't even curl into a defensive position.

That realization frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

Memories of their previous encounter flooded back: the relentless attacks, her failed attempts to escape, and the awful feeling of knowing exactly where the next blow would land without being able to prevent it.

Matilda swallowed hard.

Her eyes returned to the medicine ball.

It was being raised for a third time.

“N-Nicht noch mal…!”

WHAAAM!!

“HAAAAAAGHHH!!”

The third strike slammed into her abdomen!

Matilda's back arched as far as Mitzi's position allowed before dropping heavily against the floor. Her legs spasmed, then gradually settled, leaving only a faint trembling in her thighs.

For several seconds, she couldn't form a word.

Her mouth remained open, her breathing reduced to shallow, uneven attempts. Sweat clung to her forehead, and her face had gone pale beneath the loose strands of red hair.

The German powerhouse had fought through punishing matches before. She had endured submissions, suplexes, and strikes from opponents considerably larger than herself.

But lying beneath Mitzi, with her wrists trapped and her stomach exposed, she was beginning to understand the difference between losing a wrestling match and being completely at someone's mercy.

“Kh… hhh… bitte…”

The final word escaped almost involuntarily.

Matilda immediately squeezed her eyes shut, ashamed that she'd said it.

Her legs shifted weakly against the floor, but she couldn't muster enough strength to buck Mitzi off. Her hands remained pinned, and the effort of merely breathing demanded nearly all her attention.

She turned her face away, jaw trembling as she tried to compose herself.

For the moment, Matilda was left flat on her back, physically exhausted and defenseless beneath the prizefighter, painfully aware that she had no immediate answer for Mitzi's relentless assault.