Not So Solitary Confinement - Audrey Trovita vs Callum "Brick" McRae (D)

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

And down he went. Harder than Audrey had expected, down into the splits, which really heightened her mood. That had to hurt. Picking herself up off the mat after her dropkick, Audrey kept her eyes on him, doing her best to suppress another audible chuckle. She entertained the idea of rushing to a corner to peek at the number, but Callum was already rousing himself, too. Angrily, if the fists pounding and shaking the mat were any indication. She couldn't turn her back to him just yet. There was plenty of time to work on escape. Taunts, failed attacks. She could do this.

The frustrating part was that the man was a paradox. He was easy to tick off, but his expressions and his reactions afterwards were conflicting. Rage shifted to malice which shifted to cockiness. Audrey wondered if even he knew just what was going on inside his own head, because she was finding it difficult. How could she read a man who didn't even control his own emotions?

The solution, then, was not to bother trying. it didn't really matter, when she got right down to it. She didn't think he was playing her, or even if he was capable of it, but she didn't need to to know in order to understand she had to stay out of his clutches. And if he wasn't thinking strategy, then trying to analyze what he was thinking would only serve as a distraction.

She caved and allowed herself that chuckle in response to his retort. "That was a good one! Think of that all by yourself?" She shot a look at the woman he'd entered with. "She's not feeding you lines through an earpiece or nothin', is she? If so, I'd hire a new writer."

When he threw his arms wide, Audrey crossed hers across her chest. "You're one to talk about sneak attacks," she countered with a glare, shifting her weight to her back leg. No tease this time, just facts.

He started towards her again, far more leisurely than his last rush. An open invitation to test herself against him. All Audrey knew was that if she fell for this bait, she may as well chain herself to the corner post; The result would be the same with less effort on her part. Attack or retreat...

She couldn't sweep his leg. She didn't have the power for that. Strikes were not her strong suit anyway, and she couldn't just keep relying on them. But nor did she think she'd get away with another 'slip behind the back' trick so soon. And she couldn't very well just retreat... not only would it make her look like prey, but it would do zero to get her closer to escape. She saw the bait for what it was... but maybe her best bet was to spring the trap and evade it all in one move.

Perhaps it was the fact that, outside of the cheap pre-bell shot, Audrey had yet to be harmed, but her confidence levels had risen and begun to combat her nerves. And that lead her to decide that her best course of action... was to charge right back at him! Specifically, his legs. If she could tackle and topple him over, she could maybe get him in a hold.

[Parker]

Callum barked out a laugh at her words, shaking his head as if she were the one not paying attention. His eyes bulged a little, disbelief writ plain across his face before curling back into a sneer.

“Sneaky? Sneaky? Lass, I literally walked up to you, stared you dead in the face, and punched you square in the guts. Nothin’ sneaky about it.” He jabbed a thumb against his chest, puffing himself up as if proud of the sheer bluntness. “If you didn’t see that comin’, that’s on you.”

When Audrey sprang forward, throwing herself low at his legs, Callum braced. When her shoulder smacked against his midsection, they were likely both a little confused by how the collision barely budged him, his boots skidding half an inch across the canvas, no more. The difference in weight and raw size was undeniable. His hands came down across her back, grabbing hold of the fabric of her top as handholds, one behind her neck and the other lower across her back. He gave the material a hand yank, keeping her bent down while straightening her legs up, the gold ring from her own top likely digging into her throat.

“Cute,” he hissed down at her, breath hot with laughter.

His grip cinched tighter keeping her bent forward like prey caught in a snare. And then - THWUMP! His knee shot up into her body, burying itself in her midsection with brutal force. The blow was strong enough to jolt her clean off the mat, her toes leaving the ground before dropping back down again, only for the next to follow. THWUMP! Another knee. And another. The crowd groaned in sympathy with each lift and slam of bone into flesh, Callum’s grin splitting wider every time her body folded tighter against him… not too dissimilar to a folder.

“Up ye go!” he taunted between strikes, shaking her by the fabric in his fist as if she weighed nothing at all. “Let’s see how much spark’s left after this, eh?”

He drove another knee mercilessly upward, savoring the dull shock of impact reverberating through her frame. Each thrust lifted Audrey off her feet for a heartbeat before gravity dragged her back down, only for him to claim her again with the next punishing rise. The rhythm was his, and hers was only the role of unwilling partner at the mercy of the cadence he set.

By the third strike, Callum’s grin had grown confident and smug once again. Rather than keep pummeling, he shifted his grip with a casual cruelty, fingers abandoning the fabric at her neck to trace around her, his arm looped around her head, forearm slipping snug beneath her chin, the press of his bicep swelling as he locked her into a front headlock. Her cheek brushed against his side as he cinched it tight with a flex, pulling her close enough to feel the sweat rolling down his body as much as his strength.

“Got something smart to say now?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm, pitched just low enough to taunt. The smirk never left his lips, even as his muscles flexed harder, clamping down with an audible grind of tension.

If she dared try to answer, his response would come swift, a vicious crank of the hold, twisting her neck and forcing a gasp out of her throat. He wasn’t interested in her words; he wanted the sound of them breaking apart, cut short beneath the choke of his control.

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

Oh.

Maybe not her smartest moment. Anyone with eyes would have been able to anticipate what was about to happen, but between his snarky retort and her prior successful tactics, Audrey had become distracted. Or maybe she'd been given an inch of confidence and she tried to run with a mile. Either way, the result of her tactical attack was a bump on her shoulder and a whispered "Oh, shi-".

Yeah. She'd hoped that maybe flinging her entire body weight into him would get her somewhere, and it did... it got her stuck. She felt the tug of fabric pressing against her skin, and the hoop of her top digging in. And with his meaty hands holding her there, she couldn't right herself. She could try to wiggle free... at the expense of her top. But she wasn't quite there yet.

She second-guessed herself when her body folded around his knee. Once again, the air was pushed from her lungs, her feet heaved off the ground, a choked gasp slipping through her lips. Her shoes hit the mat again and she groaned weakly, struggling to restore oxygen to her body and moving to caress the tender spot of her stomach where knee met gut - nearly the same place his fist had contacted not so long ago - and was denied as a second blow prevented both actions, while undoing any progress she'd made with her last breath.

"Ggghhh.."

Her legs buckled when they touched down, but she was again kept upright by the man's grip. A third blow shook her to her core, triggering another whimper-like cough. She'd have crumpled had she not been held in place. Her hands landed on his thighs, the only means of control she currently had; she'd slipped up, been caught, and was at his mercy now.

For a moment, the pressure receded, and she dared take a breath. It didn't feel like enough, but it would be the only one she managed before his hold on her shifted, his powerful arm snaked around her throat. Her eyes squeezed closed in response to the pressure, her mouth hanging open as though hoping to simply let air drift in. In truth, that was about all she could hope for. Cheek pressed against him, she tried again to inhale, succeeding only in making a pitiful rasping sound. Her fingers clawed at his arm, an uncoordinated effort to loosen the pressure. And the worst part was that she remained hunched over, torn between the desire to tend to her caved-in stomach or remove the restriction around her neck. The latter desire won out.

He squeezed tighter, as if to cut off any reply she might make, but both her breath and her words had left her. Realizing her flailing would not have any effect, her nails dug into his skin. She might have considered biting him had she any room to maneuver her neck, but he had her locked in safely.

That was her reply. Nails into flesh, her feet stomping and kicking and scraping at the mat as if she had room to simply pull herself free without popping her head off. Her heartrate, which had calmed to a manageable 'caffeinated' pace, shot back up again into the 'he's gonna stab you' range. She knew she was in trouble now, and until he gave her an opening, that wasn't likely to change. She wasn't going anywhere.

[Parker]

Callum leaned back into the headlock, wrenching Audrey’s neck at an awkward angle that forced her to bow uncomfortably, her cheek pressed into his chest. He grinned wide, savoring the control, rocking her like a ragdoll in his grip. “Look at you, all tied up,” he jeered, voice full of smug amusement. “Bet this isn’t quite how you pictured things goin’, huh? …Well, unless you’re into it. Could be, yeah?”

Her scratching came suddenly, nails dragging over his arm hard enough to make his grin twitch into a grimace. “Oi!” His voice pitched with both irritation and surprise. “Scratchin’?! What are you, a fuckin' cat?” He shook her in the headlock like he was disciplining a misbehaving pet, then cut off any further rebellion by driving his knee savagely into her stomach again. THUD! The sharp impact meant to jolt her limp and compliant in his arms for a moment, drawing a laugh out of him. “Settle yourself, princess, you’re not goin’ anywhere.”

Still keeping her neck snug in the crook of his arm, Callum finally loosened the hand gripping her top and slid it downward, palm dragging across her back before catching hold of the ruffles of her skirt. He yanked it up sharply, hiking the fabric and flashing a smug grin as he caught sight of what was beneath. “Ha! Well now… got a nice little view back here. Should’ve guessed a lass like you’d be packin’ a cheeky arse.”

The crowd reacted with a mix of gasps and boos as Callum leaned into his villainy, his grin only widening. Then, with zero hesitation, he used that very grip on her skirt as leverage. “Right, up we go-” he taunted, before suddenly yanking her down with him. He dropped backwards in one vicious motion, aiming to spike Audrey head-first into the canvas with a brutal Implant DDT, her skirt tugged taut as she was driven into the mat.

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

As if the breathing difficulty wasn't enough, Callum was being none too gentle with the redhead, rocking and jerking her by the neck, forcing her to stay on her toes. He continued to taunt her as well, but she had to admit at least to herself, she didn't expect this. At least not so soon, not after such a promising start. Still unable to even breathe, she couldn't offer him a reply, snarky or not; the only sounds coming from her were choked sputters, her tiny frame trembling with the desperate urge to inhale but being denied the pleasure.

Without warning (no, his bitching did not count as a warning, if anyone asked her opinion!), yet another knee found its way to Audrey's stomach. Already hunched over with her lungs virtually empty, the only resulting sound was the slap of knee to flesh, and the further folding of her form. Audrey obediently ceased her scratching, though more as a result of draining energy than active compliance. Instead, she clutched at the arm around her throat, at this point more to support her own weight with her legs feeling like mush. She blinked and found her vision going blurry...

Audrey barely registered when he let go of her top; the intensity of the pressure around her throat drowned out every other sensation. That changed the instant his hand slid down her spine, sending shivers through her body that only piled on to the soreness of her already struggling frame. She might've blushed, had her face any color left in it. Her teeth clenched, but she could offer no other resistance; she had a bit of a larger problem on her hands than her pink panties landing on a camera roll or two.

Then her feet, dangling limply beneath her, scraped the mat. A pressure around her center as her skirt waistband dug into her skin amplified the discomfort from all those stomach blows, and she realized she was in motion again. Her shoes left the mat entirely, if only for a few seconds... and then the ground rose up to meet her.

She blacked out, uncertain for how long but knowing it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds, as she was still splayed out on the ground with a pounding in her head. Her vision was quite blurry now, and even attempting to move it made her dizzy. She'd need time to recover from that one... the question was, would she get it? Of course, that all depended on her being able to breathe again, first...

[Parker]

Callum’s laughter was thick, low, and entirely self-satisfied. He sat there for a moment after the DDT, his arm still draped over her, looking down at the redhead’s slack form with a crooked smirk. “What’s wrong? Didn’t quite catch that,” he muttered, pretending to lean his ear closer as if expecting her to answer. Her body only lolled limply in his grasp, head rolling against his arm like a rag doll.

He gave her shoulder a little shake, not gentle. “No clever wee comeback? Guess I finally knocked the attitude outta ya, huh?” He scoffed, the sound rolling into a snicker before he shoved her aside. Audrey flopped to the mat bonelessly, her hair spilling across the canvas, the soft thud of her body barely audible under his renewed laughter. “Out fucking cold, already?”

He pushed himself up to one knee, wiping the sweat from his brow, the grin never leaving his face. But when he glanced down again, he caught the faintest flicker of movement. Her eyes, barely open, unfocused, glassy. A lazy squint that spoke of stubborn life still buried somewhere under the haze.

“Well, would ya look at that,” he drawled, standing up fully and circling to her side. “Still twitchin’. Maybe you’re tougher than you look after all.”

Then, in one sharp motion, he raised his boot and planted it squarely on her chest. The impact was muted and soft despite the force behind it. He leaned forward over her, folding his arms across his bent knee as he poured more of his weight down through his heel, grinding it down purposefully on one of her breasts, rolling his foot so the toe of his boot bounced off the top of the other.

“C’mon now,” he taunted, voice sing-song with cruel amusement. "Get up.”

He tilted his head, watching her face with a mocking curiosity, the grin on his lips twitching wider when she struggled for air under the pressure. “Go on then. Let's see that fire you supposedly got.”

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

For a small droplet of fortune trickling Audrey's way, she discovered quickly that breathing was once again within her realm of possibility, and she abused the privilege greedily, in small, shallow, rapid breaths. It did little to clear up the daze or answer the pounding in her skull, but it was a start. Disorientation took a backseat opposed to getting blood flowing back into her head.

Her body suddenly rocked violently, a pressure on her shoulder the cause, and she let out a disconcerted groan. She flipped onto her back, laying there relishing the feeling of her lungs expanding again even despite the discomfort that had settled in her stomach. The bright lights above were irritating, however; blinking helped clear the blurriness, but she still had to squint. There were words, she was pretty sure, aimed in her direction, and a spark of recognition drove her to start sitting up.

She made it two inches off the mat before a boot landed square on her chest and pinned her back down. She let out a yelp, less from the force than the location he'd targeted. The pressure on her breast drew some color back to her cheeks after having most of it drained by the previous choke, the pinkish tint masking her freckles. Audrey let out moans of discomfort as she began to writhe underneath his foot, her sensitivity being drowned out by the weight, a mixture of pleasure and pain tilted far too much on the scale towards the latter. Worse yet, those breaths she'd been allowed to take had been hindered yet again; not quite as bad as a vice around her throat, but still not a position she could maintain for long. Her shoes scraped the mat as her legs kicked and searched for leverage, and a subconscious thought drifted through her mind; her position left her backside better covered, but now the focus was on the soft flesh of her breast as it squished, molding around the foot rolling around it and pushing her down.

Her eyes, still squinting but now from that pressure rather than the lights, found Callum leaning over her, arms on his knee for the added insurance, taunts rolling off him now easier than sweat. Meanwhile, words continued to fail the redhead, in large part due to being physically unable, which left her alternating between grunts and whimpers. She glared at him, teeth clenched, palms against his boot in an effort to remove it, or topple his balance, or whatever it took to get him off her. She dug her heels into the mat and heaved her hips upwards, hoping to make up for a lack of leverage in her body's upper half with her available lower limbs.

Was he in range for a surprise kick to the head? Audrey didn't know if she could even reach that high at this angle, especially not with her stomach dreading the idea of intentionally curling in on herself... but her other option was to hope he'd slip and fall... which, given her luck, was not something the redhead wanted to count on. And even if she landed it, that wouldn't likely keep him down for long at all, so she'd need to move quickly...

It was all she's got. So, instead of heaving again, she braced herself with as deep a breath as she could draw in, then let it out with a grunt as she pushed off the mat and aimed her shoe at his head; at the same time, she shoved his leg with all the force she had available.

Should she manage to dislodge him, Audrey would quickly roll the opposite direction, grab a rope, and unsteadily drag herself to her feet. If not, she suspected she'd be in for some nasty retaliation...

[Parker]

A smug half-smile spread across Callum’s face as he looked down at her trapped beneath his boot. The redhead’s small noises, the way her chest rose under the press of his weight, the pink flush creeping into her cheeks, it all made for a view he found delightful. He cocked his head slightly, eyes narrowing, watching her squirm with the lazy patience of a cat cornering its prey. He’d started this match wanting to beat her; now, he realized he was enjoying her. When she wasn’t mouthing off, she was almost… tolerable. Cute, even.

He eased his weight just enough to make her think she was getting somewhere. A little jostle of his boot made her chest bounce, drawing a low chuckle from him. When her hands pushed up to lift him off, he let her, for half a second, before leaning back down and crushing her hands to the mat again. The sound of his laughter, that throaty rasp edged with mischief, rolled through the noise of the crowd. He wasn’t trying to win right now. He was playing.

He could see her mind working beneath that frustration, eyes darting, breath short and sharp, desperate to figure out an escape that wasn’t coming. The sudden jerk of her hips managed to rock him, but he forced her down again with a deliberate stomp, driving her flat. “Come on now,” he muttered, that rough northern accent coating his words like gravel. They weren’t shouted; they were thrown down like coins in a gutter, meant to clink where they landed and sting a little more for how casual they sounded. “You tried that already.”

Then it happened again, another surge, another burst of defiance. Her shove slipped his boot down across her collar, catching him just off-balance. He spread his arms to steady himself, grin half-formed and then the toe of her sneaker clipped him along the underside of his jaw.

“Oi!”

He staggered back a step, hand flying to his face as the crowd exploded, laughter and cheers tangled together. The smirk vanished for only a heartbeat before it reformed, sharper, meaner. He spat to the side, rolling his shoulders, gaze locked on the redhead dragging herself upright by the ropes. Her hair clung to her face, chest rising and falling in fast, ragged bursts. The sight lit something electric in his chest.

He moved. Fast. No more showboating this time, just anger given direction. He closed the distance at a near run, boots screeching as he slid to a stop behind her. Before she could fully turn, he lunged forward, throwing his legs across the small of her back to straddle her, his body pressing into her from behind. One hand seized her wrist and wrenched it back from the ropes while the other tangled deep in her ponytail, yanking her head roughly up, forcing her spine into a painful arch against the fulcrum that was his hips.

“Maybe I should start calling you Filly if you keep tryin’ to kick me,” he murmured near her ear, his voice low and mocking but threaded with laughter. Not furious, amused. Like this was all a game he’d already decided he’d win. “Guess that means I’ll have to break you in.”

The words rolled off his tongue like a taunt and a promise all at once. Then he let go of her hair, palming the back of her head instead, and shoved forward. Her throat sent to meet the middle rope, trapping her there as he leaned down over her back, weight pressing her against the cables while the crowd gasped at the savageness of it.

[ThurmanMermanPlx]

Hanging limply by the ropes, barely managing to support her own weight, Audrey cast a glare back at her attacker as she recovered. Getting herself out of that had taken far, far too much energy, her every failure rewarded by renewed pressure pounding down on her weakening form. Her breasts were sore, and her collarbone wasn't faring much better. Lesson learned (the hard way, as usual); brute strength would not win this contest. She'd known that already, but the demonstration served to frame just how out of her league she was in terms of raw power. For throwing her entire body weight at his legs to not even wobble him... Even with low expectations, she'd underestimated. She needed to find some other way, then. Even keeping him in a submission hold would be difficult... She'd been lucky twice with her kicks. But she couldn't keep that up forever, either. Even he would get wise to it eventually.

The redhead took a moment to adjust her top with one hand, the other still held on to the top rope like a crutch; Callum's constant grinding of his boot against her breast had shifted the fabric dangerously. She was grateful, in the back of her mind, that it hadn't simply snapped. Then again, she knew better than to opt for the cheap stuff. She blew a puff of air upwards, clearing the loose hanging strands of her bangs from her eyes, making sure he was never out of her line of sight.

God, how she wanted to say something back to him, now that she had the opportunity. But her words continued be elusive, as though her brain was laser-focused solely on keeping her heart pumping - even though she could still feel the hammering in her chest, proving that it sure was doing that well enough on its own.

But even if she had been able to think of something, she would not have had the time to say it aloud. He charged her, like a bull drawn to her fiery red hair. Audrey, however, was not prepared at all; she was too tired to even ponder dodging at the speed he was coming for her, and had not considered that standing still left her a sitting duck. No time to raise a shoe. All she could do was throw up an arm to shield her face and brace for the body splash, or headbutt, or whatever was coming.

What she got was so much worse. She found herself between his legs, with his weight bearing down on her, her arm wrenched painfully back. She yelped in pain as he pulled her head back by her hair, eyes beginning to sting in response. But the real kicker was his words, the threat stabbing her deeper than the arch he was forcing her body into, and drilling home the cold truth; less than a minute after she'd managed to free herself, she was caught. Again. And this was just the calm before the storm.

Then she was pushed forwards, his weight crushing her windpipe against the middle rope. Her bangs fell in front of her eyes again, but they were closed with the pressure. Yet again, breathing became a herculean task, resulting in her gasping, coughing, choking, and sputtering instead. And with Callum planted atop her, pulling away was next to impossible. She couldn't even shift her position, let alone crawl backwards.

Her knees ached already from supporting him, but her legs kicked the mat desperately regardless. She tried to pull the rope away from her throat, but succeeded only in trapping herself further, the pressure even tighter as his body sunk hers lower to fill the little space she'd created instantly.

"Ghh... get... off..." she choked out in breathless wheezes, barely audible over the cheers and boos of the crowd, their voices louder than ever in the redhead's ringing ears. She had no delusion that her plea would sway any sympathy her way, but that was never the point, anyway; forcing the words out even though he seemed determined to ensure she never spoke again was the best way to show she wasn't going to roll over and go down without a struggle.

[Parker]

Callum leaned into her, every ounce of his weight bearing down through the ropes and into the smaller woman’s frame. The way she strained beneath him, arms clawing at the middle rope, legs kicking uselessly against the mat, only made him press harder, the cords biting into her windpipe as the cage rattled with the impact of their struggle. Her breath came in broken, rasping fragments, the sound caught between defiance and desperation.

He could feel the vibration of her strained voice through their closeness before he even made out the words.

For a moment, he actually paused. His smirk softened into something that might almost, almost, be mistaken for concern. He loosened his grip, let the tension in his shoulders drop, and straightened up slightly as if struck by sudden conscience. One hand brushed at his hair while the other hovered above her back, hesitant, performing a pantomime of guilt.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, voice low and calm, the rough edge of his accent thinning to a quiet drawl. “Didn’t mean to go that far, Red. Guess I got carried away.”

The crowd booed loudly, not buying it for a second. Callum threw up a middle finger to all of them behind Aundrey’s back, mouthing the words ‘fuck off’ where his opponent couldnt see it. He turned his attention back to her, putting the act back on, stepping off of her to bend close beside her, one knee hitting the mat as he reached toward her shoulder, gentle as if he were actually going to help her up. “Come on, up you get. Let’s not have you croaking before we finish, eh?”

His touch was surprisingly gentle, but the way he helped her to rise was at his pace, not hers. One of many glaring clues he was not suddenly a nicer guy than he had presented himself as. Still, to a hazy oxygen started brain there was a chance his poor showing was somewhat believable for a moment if nothing else. He’d even support her waist with an arm wrapped behind her.

When he had gotten her part way up, it was when he threw his weight behind her to heave her through the ropes face first into the chainlink cage wall. Not hard enough to get her fully through but enough to smack her face and be left dangling bent over the ropes.

He let out a triumphant cackle as if he had somehow pulled off the greatest caper, rising to position himself behind her, leaning his hips into her backside. Reaching down his fingers delicately pinched the edges of her skirt and gave a tug, like peeling back a veil ever so carefully. Once he had pulled it up, he gave the fabric a casual flick to let it drape across the small of her back, presenting her nice, plump posterior for all to see.

He wedged himself in close with a thrust of his hips, grinding his frame up against her to shove her into a further bend over the ropes. brought his palms down across her cheeks with a firm clap before letting them linger, roaming over her curves with a firm caress. “How's the fresh air treating you?"