Bill "The Crusher" vs Spectre — Extended Pinfall

[Monsy]

Breathe. Just. Breathe.

She could only get one through a hush, straw-thin whine through her chest and out her semi-ajar slack maw. Her mindspace needed to recalibrate. She hardly had a read just how she landed, only that her face became a magnet for the mat and she was stuck holding her eternally burning gut that seared. “g-gg— go… f-f-f-fuck yourself — D.. d’aawww—t.”

Then she was grabbed by the head. Pain hit her neck and swallowed her cranium as the finger-pads ground into her hair, pulled it, then stretched out from her cortex to shoulder blades. It was like a cat being grabbed by the scruff, only for it to be too old and too big. She winced, then hollered, “Let… G-GO--” In a deep register and tone, almost demonic before -- “GNH-!” A fist almost as big as her head swooped into her cheekbone and crushed it. Her head whipped so hard towards the side that it rebounded and went the same direction twice in almost a delayed flinch. Her visage was crushed into one eye, then released to her feet where she spun around in awkward, irregular and exaggerated steps. Her shoulders slump, head loose and slumped down, chin ajar as the spit mixed with blood in a single string.

She went left, then arced around, spun again and stumbled to the ropes in-front of him on her heels. Her head rolled back till she was staring at the ceiling, then back around. Her limbs swung and arms idly hanged and swung to momentum. When she stabilized, it was more from her knees banging together with her feet wider apart.

Her body swayed back and forth like she was spineless and slithering while standing up, forward and back, left and right, almost in a circle as her head rolled, eyes aimed at the ceiling as she groaned lazily and bore loud ringing in her ears. The world was spinning. If she were to take a step, the only result would be to flop right on her face.

[Lycanstar]

As Bill approached, Speck's dazed body flailed around aimlessly without any need for intervention. Bill simply stood in place; watching in a continued rage and slight satisfaction at the unbelievably contrasted movements of this now drunken villain who all too recently thought Herself to be invincible. Cheap words and flash technology meant nothing compared to raw power and determination; something Speck would remember for the rest of Her life- If She remembered anything about this night once Bill was done with Her.

As entertaining as it was for Spectre to stumble in front of Bill as if She was presenting Herself to Him; She was more than deserving of more punishment. Bill eyed Her up and down briefly, the state She was in clearly turning some gears in the big mans mind as the entertaining dance She made had started to garner attention from His manhood. So cock-sure She was in whatever plan She had that even considering for a second that Bill would have the upper hand was seemingly out of the question; but Bill's plan although more aggressive than He expected to be, had not changed in the slightest.

Spectre's reprieve came as She practically stumbled into His arms; Bill needing very little force to get His hands underneath Her armpits. Spectre's feet gave away completely; leaving Her at the mercy of Bill's grip as the big man slotted Her head underneath His armpit and gripped Her leotard by Her midsection~

Bill lifted Spectre high into the air; letting Her legs dangle in the open breeze of the arena briefly as He made sure to yank at the material of Her leotard with very little grace~ Perhaps an upside down perspective was just what Bill wanted to deliver to Spectre in these brief moments before He...

*THOK!*

Dropped Her right back down to earth with a devastating slam... DIRECTLY ONTO HIS KNEE!!!

At the last second before dropping speck flat against the canvas; the big man's knee sprang out and took the brunt of the impact from Speck's body~ Or more specifically; The Viruses soft exposed belly. The impact from such a magnificent height no doubt would scramble anyone's insides as Bill simply let Her arms loose and allowed the body of Spectre to react however it could to the pain...

[Monsy]

“Iiiiiii— inFFFECKT… the sssshhhhoow—”

She babbled with a loose neck swinging her head around in a slow circle, stumbling left and right in vague directions. Her thoughts were complete salad, remembering different things, different things she said, then losing her control over impulse just like her face. All her plans became hieroglyphic. Like the words she mentally summoned were pointless. She was seeing triple. And if not for landing cheek first against his upper abs, she would’ve collapsed. Her hands grabbed onto his side, more-so that she pressed her palms against it as her legs shook. “I am—ssspp-PECK-tre. And yyyou, my ~man~ sla—!”

Then, she was taken high by her pit and the high-angled cut of her leotard. The ring flew from her. It became smaller. Her expression, now gaping at the eyes, colour flushing from her cheeks as she grabbed the wrist that was suspending her with two of her own.

“Wait-wait-wait—” Too late.

The knee impaled her sweaty skin, deforming her soft gut into a giant crater.

“AUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!—” She screamed, whined and whimpered, raking her throat as the air flew from her lungs and out her mouth doused in spit. Her eyes stayed wide, tongue hanging out, gagging, unable to intake her breath as she felt more lightheaded than a balloon, fading with growing dark edges in her vision. Her stomach raged with such multiplying piercing sensations that her eyes watered and purple tears freshly painted her cheek and dripped to the mat. Her legs curled in, thighs together and she felt a sweltering heat buzz through her lower-half, making it quiver and then convulse once.

The feeling stayed.

“Pppparasss-s-site...”

Having been tossed to the mat, Spectre crashed on her side then sprawled spread eagle onto the canvas with her cheek tipped against the mat where she unknowingly slobbered with vacant expression, eyes having rolled upwards into her skull. Her fingers flinched idly every few seconds. Her sweating lithe thighs stirred minimally. And her stomach now had a permanent tremble as she breathed in and out, now having a horribly huge bruise on her belly button and surrounding skin to go with the second huge bruise at her solar plexus.

[Lycanstar]

Bill stood firmly in place as He looked down at the screaming; crying Spectre. Her widened eyes and look of absolute pain contrasted heavily by the bold physique of the crusher standing over Her without a single scratch etched upon His massive body. All the showboating and extra effort Spectre made seemed a waste as She writhed and wallowed on the canvas, drool unceremoniously dribbling from Her mouth as Her makeup smeared heavily and dripped down Her cheeks.

However despite Her weakened and delirious state; the cold, locked expression of Bill's mask remained the same- Furious. Vengeful. Completely unwavering in His goal to demolish Her from bell to bell. While His most animated feature on His entire body was His tight erection pushing the fabric of His jock as far as it would go, Spectre's was beginning to form as a brightly lit bruise was formed on Her exposed belly. It shook and trembled with each sensitive breath She took in- sending shockwaves of quivers up and down Her body. And all of this from just one massive knee to the gut.

Well, if Bill had any sympathy for Her whatsoever He perhaps at the very least would ease up on a clearly sensitive region for Her such as that- Perhaps focusing His wrestling efforts on other body parts as to not cause unnecessary pain in this dance of grapples. However Spectre's pain would prove to all be necessary to the masked man as He walked over to Her shaking and drooling body and knelt down.

With very little wasted motion, Bill positioned Himself directly next to the splayed out Spectre, bringing His right hand onto Her shoulder and gripping firmly while His left hand tightly balled into a fist and hovered just above the bruise that had freshly been formed around Her belly button. Bill's mask creaked it's head to Spectre's eyes as He looked for signs of life- only being met instead with those eyes having rolled up to Her skull. How unfortunate He didn't have any sympathy for Her.

*THWACK!*

Bill's fist shot like a cannon into Spectre's tummy- digging a crater as the canvas behind Her gave very little space for Her to retreat from the impact~ The white knuckles of The Crusher's fist grinding their way against Her skin as the impact zone of Her bruise would immediately become larger-

*THWACK!*

...And larger~

*THWACK!*

...And larger~

*THWACK!*

If Spectre's body shot itself up, Bill's right hand would forced it unceremoniously back down again. His relentless assault against Her belly would not let up as the more He punched; the hotter His blood would boil. His right hand placed itself across Her entire face as He kept it forced down and shut while He continued to batter Her midsection like a jackhammer-

*THWACK!*
*THWACK!*
*THWACK!*

Bill's mind was filled with every wrong thing about Spectre- every single aspect of Her he absolutely loathed. About how much She deserved every single hit and more~ What She did to His partner... His breathing was hot behind that mask; He was practically suffocating Himself with rage as the wails continued more and more-

*THWACK!*
*THWACK!*
*THWACK!*

...Until finally He let up. Gasping for air as if He was holding His breath the entire time, Bill remained in place, His knuckle resting softly against His target area while His right hand set itself on the canvas beside Her head. Disregarding Spectre's feelings, it was a intense moment for the man known for His powerful actions. But while He may have His own feelings about what transpired; He would allow Spectre's body to do the talking for Her.

[Monsy]

She didn’t feel coherent.

There was something about being so loopy, like the excruciating numbing in her belly was told apart from the lightheadedness. She can focus on her jaw pinching as her two sets of teeth gnashed, chewed and jittered. She saw red, the inside of her skull with the light from the outside piercing in, giving her a black veiny webbing, then red for flesh and yellow in contrast, and again—separated from her brain that was repeating a single thought.

(Stayawake-stayawake-stayawake...)

While her eyes vied to not go cross eyed. She reset when his hand touched her shoulder, a vile brutish mitt, then scowled. Her fingers tried to move, but merely flinched, and were trying to build up to the point she could thrust her palm up, grab his testicles and twist them until he cried mercy. But at the moment she came too, she saw a looming shadow. She looked down, saw where it casted its shade, then backed up to him. Her eyes grew, face-flushed, then she thought to mutter something with a

(Ahhhh… Here we go—)

Then she SQUEALED… “A-A-AGAIN?!?!?!?”

She arched her gut up defiantly, then threw her head back till she was grinding her crown in the canvas. Her sweaty legs came up as a single, legs bent in and the toes curled, shaking.

ANOTHER. “TOO DEEP!!!”
She was flattened. Her body stiffened, shook, then released into something limp, pliable and visible rapid decay in her consciousness. “Too deep… T-tt-too deep…”
“T-T-Ttttooooo…”

ANOTHER. “GAAACKHH!!!”
And then she repeated the same death arc. Up again. Down again.
Her head felt like it was going to explode. All the tensing had her cheeks flushing red. A vein on her forehead. She looked at him with an intense glower, a twitching eye puffed up from tears, dripping down her face in melted purple. “F-f-f-fff…fuck OFF... (wheeze) ... mY—HUURRRRRRKKK!!”

She didn’t even want to look at it. Her stomach was wearing a permanent indent with his knuckles permanently marked with swelling welts on a canvas of black, red and purple. The crater, which now extended nearly one side to the other, looked closer to mush. But. It. Wasn’t. Enough

“GUH!UH!G-UH!GUH!-G!-UH!UGH!UGH!UGH!—”
(Stayawake-stayawake-stayawake!!)

Her screams were hideous. Each one caught short—stitched together in the next. Her spit came out in a spray until there was nothing. Then her mouth stayed open, belching, hollering and sobbing, ghoulishly screaming until it pierced ears. Her limbs spasmed, jerked, threw themselves and then rose up from the force overriding every nerve to his physics. The face she made was poignant, expressive and zealous. Eyes bugged out, mouth wide, pupils shrank. A full freeze-frame of

.

“AGHAGHAAHGHAKKK-HUGHHHH!!—” She wheezed, heaved, then arced her belly again to scream, "DOT!!!" As she grabbed handfuls of her scalp, pulled and yanked with dwindling force.

She sucked in through her chest, but she sounded hoarse. Like the oxygen she breathed was thick and sickle-like, scraping down her throat as it took all her strength to get the sips that she did. Then it just kept coming. Her reactions are almost automatic. She kept nothing in. She felt the lights turn on and off for the better part of thirty seconds. How many dozens of fists was that? To keep her sanity and sense that she wasn’t in a coma, she kept track…

“UGHAGHAGHAGHGAHGHAGH!!!—"
(Stayawake-stayawake-stayawake-stayawake!!!!)

It stopped. It… Stopped…
The aftermath left her clothes sticking with sweat. Her belly shined with it.
She had four lines of drool just drenching her chin, then the tears scarred her face so heavily that she looked like she went through a walk in torrential rain.

“Hooghhh…. Oooghhh…” Her breathing was frail. Her trembling knees were up, curling in, limp feet barely off the ground. And yet, she kicked with the patterns of a stepped on roach, turned back-up and then tased for good measure. She was looking at him—and at the same time, staring at nothing. So exhausted was she after this point that it was written in bold in those demonic snake eyes.

“Fff…fiirrty… fiiiiiiveeee~”

She croaked, then her cheek kissed canvas, staring at multiples of people slip in and out of reality while light-sources looked like new-birthing stars. Her feet touched down near her ass, then the knees parted in both directions as the Virus deactivated. The soft tyranny of his fist, which now left hideous bruising from her ribs to her hips, suffocated her gently with its position. She could whimper, quietly sob, groan and especially gurgle.

Her senses were turned to the maximum to a point she never experienced before. The whole ordeal left something unexplainable between her legs. Even though her leotard was black, the skin-tight material was pulled taut, thin and tight in-between her thighs and wore a stain outlining a swelling labia.

She was unaware of it.
But frankly…

.

[Lycanstar]

Spectre curled up like a withering plant- Her body a completely sweaty, bruised and shivering wreck. Her eyes stared blankly off into the crowd as She gurgled and whimpered lightly in the aftermath; it was a extreme that Bill had never seen up this up close before and even yet- couldn't believe He had caused. He finally pulled His closed fist off of Her belly and stumbled back, breathing heavily as He simply observed His rather dominant handiwork. The absolute evil that was Spectre was now nothing more than a helpless, shivering body mumbling out barely coherent pleas between hoarse breaths. Bill took a minute to remind Himself that Her body was just a vessel for Her sadistic and cruel mind; a mind that had done so much evil and deserved every little bit of comeuppance that could possibly come to it.

And so as He studied Her defeated body, He questioned what else He even needed to do to prove His dominance against Her. And while a continued beatdown made sense; the view of Her swelling labia provided the most obvious choice for Him to perform going forward. She was clearly overpowered- outmatched in every physical way. Without Her scheming and tricks there was nothing more She could do to take Him on in a match setting- So the next target may as well be Her dwindling pride.

Bill stood up; the slow methodical movement of the masked giant causing Spectre's body to bounce lightly against the canvas with each powerful step He took. Making His way over to Her legs He continued to silently study His own handiwork before kneeling over Her body as He stared at the stained crotch of the Malevolent Virus. There was little fanfare in His movements as practically mounted Her; His mask hovering over Her dazed expression while He adjusted Himself comfortably overtop in a mounted position. His legs flanked Her right leg as He pressed them to ensure She knew of His presence before sliding His fingers against Her inner thigh, slowly up towards the tight spandex around Her crotch.

He pressed His middle and index fingers against Her labial lips that poked tightly against the Viruses costume; pressing against acted like a squishy button of stimulation; one the masked man would continued to teasingly squish slowly while observing Her reaction. His thumb began stroking the top of the crease while His index finger would push in ever so slowly~ letting the fabric dig itself in deeper and deeper, creating a more prominent female bulge. Hearing Her reaction would be all He would require now to keep going- to really break Spectre in the most shameful way possible in the middle of the open bottle bar in front of all the people She thought so absolutely low of.

[Monsy]

She felt like an exposed bot. Wires, spools, chipsets and coolant all exposed. Her panels all punched in. The indent of his fist marked on her midriff in divets that represented his prior knuckles, just slowly filling in as the bruise... bruises... took a stronger hold, made her feel hot, recognize the sweat, and feel just about anything, even the air, five times more than before. Her thoughts were slow and exhausted. She had the strength, at least for now, to only flutter her eyelids as she felt something touch her leg. Still looking towards the side.

"ppppp-puh..p-parraaasite..."

Her voice cooed. A touch on her thigh bore no reaction, although the sensation tracked up her spine.

Fingers, she thought, and big ones. Images of them flashed in her dull mindscape. Someone of that size... Probably had girth in their hands like beams from an exoskeleton robot. Then the warmth of the hand touched her. She could feel her lycra press into her. The sweat off it, the pressure and rhythm became this wave of static, pushing down her thoughts, her malice, her cohesion, just to picture large fingers, two, maybe three, violating her into tears and gasps. In counter, she tried to think of ways to tear him limb by limb. Submission by submission. Pin by pin. But she could feel herself warm, in a totally different way. The first branch of thought grew louder than the latter. Her legs start to move and squirm as the sensation grew constant, leaving sweat stains from where they were previously dormant. She involuntarily arched little bits when the crease was touched, a touch of glimmering skin right underneath.

Warm and moist to the touch.
And highly... highly sensitive. So vivid that she felt her groin twitch. It hurt, but in the same way that it was numbing and right.
Or perhaps her body was always touch-starved. Just as her gut was.

She groaned, albeit softly, still staring out into space but stirring. She had a deep breath, arched, then relaxed again. Her shoulders started to move as she huffed, releasing a single whine under her breath as her knees lifted, then limped. Her hips leaned side-to-side in a tame writhe. Her labia swelled in his hand, then the piece of material inbetween got thinner and thinner until it was a string, now digging between the folds, riding up her mostly exposed groin. Pink-tinted, waxed and with a sheen of misery-induced arousal making a glisten.

"hhhahh..hahhh... oohh... g-ghh.."

[Lycanstar]

"ppppp-puh..p-parraaasite..."

"Mmhmm."

Bill hummed a slight acknowledgement of the Viruses words, almost like He was easing Her mind after a medical procedure. And after what She had been through- it was understandable Her mind was about as scrambled as Her body.

Bill didn't bother stopping however- He was starting the process and would be hard pressed to find a reason to not continue. While His left hand was busy working it's way deeper against Her swelling labia; His right hand would press onto Her left shoulder, His thumb slowly stroking Her in a comforting manner. His intention was to ease Her into sexual subservience as dominantly as possible; if She understood that She should just enjoy what He was providing Her body, that would be considered a good nights work.

His fingers pressed deeper against Her labia; the material of Her leotard barely covering a single part of Her at this point. Bill gripped the flimsy thong-like rope with two fingers and lifted it up slightly, peeling it off Her womanhood to completely expose Her wettened pussy to His curious gaze. With a hard to conceal snicker, Bill snapped it back down ungracefully before locking His blank mask with Her expression once again. His fingers would soon return down below however as He would start high and press the leotard deep into Her skin before sliding down and poking down like a pressure point. Once the lips were reached, Bill would slot His fingers in while pushing the material in as well; leaving a tiny layer between His bare fingertips and the deeper inside of the Virus itself.

With His fingers dug in, He would fool around softly, so tantalizingly close from doing something Her body no doubt craved more than anything else in the world right now~ Until He once again moved His hand out and up to the material. Had He been looking to initiate some pleasure or was He just adjusting Her leotard for Her? It seemed to be perhaps the latter as soonafter He would firmly grip the leotard in a fist just above Her womanhood and pull it upwards in a tight streeeetchhhhhh!

Bill tugged on the leotard that was now deeply buried inside of Her and going deeper by the second as He flossed Her pussy with a torturous wedgie~ Perhaps in a communicative way telling Her off for choosing such a strikingly provocative attire! Of course had She been in a position of power Her attire would do wonders at teasing Her opponents desire; subverted of course with Her dominant display of empowerment. But with how the chips were stacked for Spectre... This would be perhaps be Her final chance to appear in a LAW ring as anything but a complete disgrace.

[Monsy]

Her thoughts were a field of wishflowers tossed by gusting winds. At first, she felt the tightness of her leotard thread her cheeks and became a string across her ass, making her clench and arc her back. Her breath puffed. Fingers curled into the mat, then clawed, tearing small seams into the white canvas. Then in reverse, she felt a thick, firm and wet material slip between her flushed folds, pushing till her toes squeezed and her ankles slid across the mat in an attempt to escape the sweltering sauna of feeling, tingling her in the same way chills would. Up the spine, spread out to the tailbone, down each limb, then around into the visage where her lips tightened, then parted a slip to gulp.

"ffff—fuhhh-huhh-ck..." A contained thrill fed right back. This one starting in her name. A fire hit her chest. She felt her nipples stand hard against the slip of her leotard cups. The sweat made them tingle. Then in her gut, a coil steadily turned, making her breathe at a stumbling, short-winded rate as her bruises made her stomach hard. When she'd feel a need to cough, her throat croaked a wheeze with an enthusiasm of a deflated bagpipe. Her cheeks simultaneously became flushed as well. She could picture vividly that she was being stirred like a honey-pot, her own wetness smothered back into herself, working into a tender, almost throbbing flutter. It had a way in making her head roll back back to cope. She needed to keep that fire cool, that spring uncoiled, that flutter stable... She must, she must, she musssss----

"eeeEEEEEeeKKKkkk!!!!" The Virus's voice bellowed in a high-pitch cacophonic squeal. Pain soared and broke the internal measure. It became her thoughts. The material suddenly threaded her folds like a wire and crushed part of her sex back into her pelvis. It was two halves that folded over and swallowed the line of lycra. Her hips and lower back came off the canvas, leaving her dangled like an arcing bridge where her legs quivered visibly. Her hands reached up, grabbed her own hair and she slammed teeth into her bottom lip. One eye bugged and turned up. The other dilated. A camera shot lined up the angle and caught the terrorist's now swelling cunt with a thin glistening sheen.

Her voice crackled, having somewhat torn itself. The noise that ushered was more the hum of her chest, inflated and strangled, like she could only open the valve a portion with all the tension. "Hohhhhhh—you...y-yyouu...hhhhnnhhhgg...you..."

[Lycanstar]

Spectre's body had turned into nothing but a playground of experimentation for Bill's dominant form of sadism. Her bruised skin reflected the physical toll He had put on it and now as Her labia swelled, the combination of pain and pleasure was something Bill was looking to mix into a finality of sorts for the once feared Spectre. From the first time His fist cratered into Her belly; His intent was to make Her idealistic villainy nothing but a joke as She would succumb to Him in every which way He desired. Bill knew exactly how to achieve that culmination; all it would take would be a little persuading.

As Spectre choked out Her half-hearted attempt to talk back to Him; His tugging and flossing on Her leotard would soon die down as He slowly eased off the pressure, outside of a select amount of tiny micro-tugs to remind Her as Her hips lowered He could just as easily start it up again. His fist continued to hold the fabric tightly as He laid beside Her, His blank mask blotting out the lights of the bar and staring down at Her exasperated expression. A brief pause was felt as Bill remained still, letting it all soak in for Spectre as in Her position it wasn't as if She could go anywhere or retaliate. Hardly even having the ability to speak, it meant very little for Bill to move things along as She would simply have to lay back and endure His presence while being forced to stare at the mask that in Bill's mind; represented the hubris She had to think Her underhanded and villainous tactics would do Her any good against Him.

Despite knowing His tag partner Kasey was not in the best of spots, destroying Spectre as a figurehead would be more than enough damage to make this whole evening seem like an outlier. A mistake. Something that Spectre would have to carry with Her the rest of Her career and a will that Bill was all too happy to break.

He readjusted. His right forearm pressed onto Spectre's collarbone; not in a position to choke Her but just in the right spot to keep Her from squirming out of Her prone position. His mask continued to stare down at Her, heavy breaths could be heard behind them as Bill's left hand let go of the leotard and His fingers settled lightly against Her lower abdomen. A slight press down with His middle and index finger before slowly trailing lower, the small dent of Spectre's skin following along as if it was guiding Him. Right about the tip of Her womanhood, He could feel the slight pulsating of the swollen skin from all the damage He had done~ And then His fingers slowly glided in one at a time.

The leotard had been stretched enough that it was not even a factor for Him to reach inside of Her, although His fingers were larger than most men; He would fit them well inside as deep as He could go, a slight readjustment of His upper body when He felt something that resonated with Him. A rhythmic dance would follow as His fingertips dug inside of Her without opposition. The stirring of His fingers would be mirrored by the rest of His body ever so slightly as His forearm would press down slightly harder against Her collarbone and let off with each pass along Her vaginal walls.