Katsumi Oshiro vs Chiyo Hamamoto(D) - A Spark Ignites

[PuroQueen]

The referee's reprimands fell on deaf ears as Chiyo reached the height of the ropes. While she wasn't normally one to ignore an offical's commands, she knew the crowds deserved something really special after all the love and support they had shown her so far. Chiyo knew the risks of taking to the top rope, but she also knew that this was her chance to put Katsumi away for good, to end her once and for all with the rewarding smack of using her body to decimate her opponent's. She couldn't be afraid of peril or danger if she wanted to succeed in this business, a thought that was etched into the forefront her mind as she reached the arc of her awe-inspiring aerial feat.

Her body had completed it's mid-air rotation, her head now faced back towards the mat as her body prepared itself for a powerful, defining descent...

Except, the writhing, reeling body of Katsumi had long since transformed. In it's place was the toned, lean, moving frame of her opponent - a far cry from it's once prone and vulnerable form. For a split second in time, the two wrestlers were in perfect parallel, Chiyo's eyes transfixed on Katsumi's face as it briefly flashed beneath hers. Their two reactions couldn't have been any more different: Katsumi stared up with sadistic glee, while Chiyo's expression instantly molded into one of horror.

Chiyo was left with no choice but to dare to do the impossible: her muscles tensed and attempted to twist her body mid-air, trying to adjust her trajectory, but it was physically futile.

She crashed into the mat with a ring-shattering THUD...

"GGGAAAAGH!" the rookie let out a visceral, ear splitting scream while she still could, before her raspy and depleted voice gave way to her winded lungs. The crowd was silent as Chiyo lay there, screaming in pain, unable to comprehend the sudden turning of events. She felt a surge of suffering coursing through her nimble frame, every muscle spastic with mind-numbing torment. Her fingers clawed into canvas, face buried deep into the mat as she tried to shield her teary eyes from the cameras. She had been too focused on the spectacle of the move, too caught up in rewarding the fans, she had failed to account for the possibility of failure, and now she was paying for it with utter agony.

[CyanDimitrik]

She saw that look on her face. That panic, that flash of fear. Oh, it was delectable, like savory and sweet candy. And the impact her body made against the mat was both a revelation, and a joy to experience. She hit the mat hard enough to jostle Katsumi where she lay, silky hair feathering. But it was also hard enough to strongly imply just how hurt she would've been, had their bodies met. And the sheer agony of that missed opportunity, so clearly painted in her voice, in the way she scrabbles at the mat.

It's a perfect moment. Well, almost perfect. Their bodies would, indeed, meet. But on Katsumi's terms.

Scrambling to her again, her hands seize onto Chiyo's shoulder and hip to forcefully shove her over onto her back. She follows it up by immediately lunging her body across hers, bare and toned belly pressing in against Chiyo's equally bare, toned belly. Her right forearm props against the mat to support her upper-half, while her left arm reaches back to hook Chiyo's leg, tucking it against her ribs while the hand has to snake between the girl's legs to keep the limb aloft. Katsumi arches her back, pressing her stomach hard into Chiyo's, having picked her favorite area to target this match. She knew it from the moment she'd swatted her midriff. She'd turn this into one Chiyo's abdominals wouldn't soon forget. But for now, the Punk Princess lies across her figure, head turning to look back/up at her rival's face to soak in every moment.

The referee drops beside the pair to begin the count. The audience is raging with boos and scorn, while another vocal constituency praises Katsumi and her display of dominance over the hurt girl beneath her.

"You're mine!," she snaps at her.

[PuroQueen]

It was as if Chiyo's bones had instantly dissipated to ash upon the devastating impact. The steady flow of pain refused to cease as it coursed through her body, seeping its way into every fiber and never ending. She felt trapped, unable to move or breathe properly. Her muscles felt weak, and her eyes were starting to blur. For a moment, she thought she was going to lose consciousness.

Chiyo didn't even need to lift her head to know that Katsumi was glaring down at her. She could feel those insidious eyes drilling into the back of her neck, like a predator reveling in its prey. It felt worse realizing that it all stemmed from the cold satisfaction of knowing Chiyo was no longer in control. Chiyo tried to keep herself buried in the canvas, if only to buy herself a little more time to mount a recovery. But Katsumi had no intention of allowing for that. Instead, she quickly flipped Chiyo over onto her back. The pain was tear-jerking, but she refused to let a single drop drip down her face. She would not give Katsumi the satisfaction of seeing her broken.

Katsumi's body pressed down against hers, and Chiyo felt a shiver run down her spine. The glistening bare skin of her opponent's belly mashed into hers, and it felt like an electric shock. She could feel the heat radiating from Katsumi's body, and it was both terrifying and thrilling. Chiyo tried to push her off, but Katsumi was too strong. She was trapped, and she knew it.

The referee's voice sounded far away, but Chiyo could hear it nonetheless. "ONE!" she shouted, and the crowd erupted in conflicting cheers and boos. She could feel the pressure of Katsumi's weight increasing on her chest, making it hard to breathe. "TWO!" The referee shouted again, and Chiyo could hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

In that brief moment, Chiyo could ever so slowly feel the pain begin to ebb away, just enough to catch a breath. She let out a loud, exerted grunt, more akin to a pained battle cry. Summoning all her strength, she swung her hips forward, tensing her tight abdominals as they battered into the toned flesh of her opponent above her. Chiyo's shoulders followed suit, attempting to peel themselves off the mat and push Katsumi off in the process before rolling onto her side, gasping for air.

While it was no saving grace, it would at least buy Chiyo a little more breathing room and maybe some time to recover... as if Katsumi would ever allow her to have such a luxury.

[CyanDimitrik]

Shifting just slightly in a subtle way, Katsumi brushes herself against her pinned foe - just enough to keep a steady reminder to herself that she girl who'd been beating up on her now lies helplessly pinned beneath her. That skin to skin contact is a sense of euphoria, the friction between them (both in the figurative sense and the literal) making the moment all the more delectable. Chiyo's a pretty girl, on top of it. She can safely admit that, now that she's securely in the dominant position. She can admit that, and enjoy the pin more for it. Chiyo doesn't necessarily have to know that! No way she'd let it out, either! All the Red Hot girl is getting out of her is that subtle grind of her stomach against hers, pressuring in at her battered abs.

Speaking of, Katsumi feels them tensing up beneath her. That could mean only one thing.

The referee hits the second count, and suddenly Chiyo is bucking her. Katsumi is thrown back to her knees, and the crowd goes wild. The rookie is still in it!

The Punk Princess trains her annoyed gaze onto the official. "Who taught you to count!? A purple vampire!? Listen, dipshit! It goes one! Two! Three!," she fumes, slapping her palm into the opposite hand with each number.

"It- it was a two-count, Oshiro-san! Her shoulder was up!"

"YOU'RE a two-count!"

"W-what!?"

This little moment? It was brought about by Katsumi's insatiable desire to rile people up and have fun with her job. Heckling the official is one way to do it - and it also makes her look more intimidating! At least, she thinks so; she's not a saint, to be fair. But in reality, in the deep little recesses of her heart, she's glad the rookie mustered the strength to stay in it. It's a better match! And it shows she has spirit! Which'll make things all the more satisfying when she can get the win she wants. Besides, doing things this way forces her to expend some energy!

Katsumi reaches down to grab a fistful of-

"Hair!," fusses the referee.

Katsumi ignores her and grabs onto the cute pink ponytail anyway, gripping near the base. With a stiff pull, she attempts to yank her up to her feet and transitions over to seizing on her arm at the wrist and bicep. With a pivot, she swings to irish whip the girl into the far turnbuckles.

[PuroQueen]

As Chiyo felt Katsumi's stomach press against her own, she couldn't help but flutter from the sensation. The warmth of their bodies rubbing against each other created an almost euphoric feeling that left Chiyo too stunned to fully acknowledge. The Punk Princess' icy gaze seemed to bore into her very soul, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. It was a strange and conflicting feeling, being held down by someone so cold and intimidating yet feeling such warmth and closeness from the very body that sought to destroy her. Chiyo's body was already showing battered and bruised signs from the tumultuous match, but in that moment, she found herself acutely aware of every inch of Katsumi's skin pressed against hers.

Katsumi shifted her body ever so slightly, brushing against Chiyo in a way that sent tingles through her very being. Despite the roughness of the situation, Chiyo couldn't help but feel a sense of shared intimacy between the two warring wrestlers. It was a strange thought to ponder in such a perilous moment, but a pervasive one nonetheless. Her revelation, as confused as it made her feel, was short-lived as she quickly realigned her wits and broke free from the pin moments before it was too late.

Chiyo lay there, gasping and groaning as Katsumi derided the referee in the background. Her senses were muddled not only by her still-shaking body but also by her now-clamored mind.

"Uugh-ahhh!" Chiyo yelped. Before she could regain her bearings, she was being yanked up by her ponytail, the sudden torment causing more tears to well up in her eyes as she reached back to claw away at Katsumi's rough grip.

As Katsumi whipped her towards the turnbuckle, Chiyo braced herself for impact. The pain was jarring as she crashed into the corner, her body crumpling against the turnbuckle padding. She could feel the breath being knocked out of her as she slumped against the ropes, the lingering sensations of Katsumi's warmth slowly fading away as her mind raced to immerse itself back in the fight.

[CyanDimitrik]

Everything had suddenly shifted from the moment Chiyo missed that big body splash. The crowd could clearly see it, Katsumi could even feel it. And it was like a high, an adrenaline rush, pushing her own aches and pains into the background of her mind in favor of rushing forward and wearing down her opponent. But this is exactly what the audience came to see: two women, savagely struggling against one another, fighting with everything they have. One will, ultimately, dominate the other tonight. That's the pressure that thrills the punkette. Everything on the line. One girl comes out the victor over the defeated body of her rival.

And as Chiyo's back slams into the turnbuckle, she doesn't hesitate to chase after her. Surging forward, she lets the momentum carry her all the way to step up onto the first rope with her left leg, while the right knee thrusts upwards. Her thigh slams hard into Chiyo's gut, sandwiching her midsection between the muscled leg and the turnbuckle behind her. It's worth the bit of extra strain for Katsumi to remain in that position a few more seconds, just keeping her leg sunk against her stomach, before placing a hand to Chiyo's face to shove her back sharply. She doesn't want her slumping to the mat. She wants her on her feet. Vulnerable. Positioned just right.

Katsumi takes another couple steps, planting boots on the middle ropes, her hips just a few inches from Chiyo's face. Her left hand grabs for her hair again, this time leaving the ponytail alone and opting for the looser follicles more to the side of her scalp. Still, she yanks the head back and looks down, attempting to make eye contact with her from that position - looking down at her opponent, unavoidably conscious of the proximity to her hips.

She doesn't speak this time. Rather, Chiyo will be met with a wicked smile, emerald eyes gleaming, her frame partly silhouetted against the blaring overhead lights. Then that wicked smile is cast out over the audience, her free hand raising in a fist to signal what's to come. A few more voices are rising in cheer for the impending brutality.

"Stop! Get down from there!"

Ain't nobody listening to the referee. Not Katsumi. Certainly not the audience. The fist begins raining down, slamming against Chiyo's temple repeatedly. The more vicious spectators in the audience begin counting with each punch, with Katsumi's ultimate goal being to hit the full ten before releasing her head and hopping down.

[PuroQueen]

Chiyo's breaths came in short gasps as she leaned against the ropes, her body throbbing with pain. Her eyes, once filled with determination, now betrayed a flicker of fear. She slowly turned herself around, back against the corner while disheveled hair masked her face between pink strands. But even as Katsumi approached her, Chiyo refused to back down. She grit her teeth and braced herself for the inevitable attack.

What little air Chiyo had left was once again knocked out of her as Katsumi's leg slammed into her stomach. She tried to scream, but even that was impossible as the punk girl cut her off by shoving her back against the turnbuckle. Her eyes widened as she felt the hand grab her hair once more, yanking her head back so that she was looking up at the other woman. The aura of Katsumi's hips so dauntingly close to her face, that pearl white smile belying vicious intentions, it was almost too much to bear all at once.

Then there were those eyes, those wicked, green shimmering eyes, gleaming with a sinister purpose that would instantly make Chiyo quiver in place.

She could feel the audience's excitement building, and she knew that something terrible was about to happen. The first punch landed on her temple, and Chiyo cried out in pain. The second punch came quickly, and then the third. She tried to block them, but Katsumi was too quick for her. The punches kept coming, and she quickly lost count as she desperately clung to to the ropes, her body resorting to the bare minimum of just trying to stay on her feet. Katsumi's grip on her hair made that a painful process as well, causing Chiyo to yelp and groan as each punched was interspersed with the evil face of her tormentor.

Then it stopped, almost as soon as it all begun. Chiyo slumped slowly downwards, her back scraping along the sweat-slicken padding before landing with a loud thump into a sitting position. One hand clutched at her battered head, the other outstretched as if... begging her opponent to cease her assault, if only for a moment. Her voice was a dribble of moans and groans, betraying her bodies weakness, but soon, something awe-inspiring happened.

Chiyo's outstretched hand slowly turned inwards, it's back pointed towards her opponent's face. The cameras zoomed in on the small miracle, capturing in glorious high definition the moment each finger slowly curled in on themselves, each one gradually tucked tight into the palm of her hand.

All except for one that was: Chiyo's middle finger, standing tall and proud above the rest, it alone screaming words Chiyo felt far too weak to say aloud:

Fuck... You

The crowd gasped, collectively stunned. It was beyond shocking, especially for someone who only moments ago shined as a bright new face in a sea of crude and cruel wrestlers. But they all had to know - Katsumi had to know - Chiyo never cowered to anyone - she couldn't bear to ever bring herself to such lowly levels of despair in front of so many people, least of all on her debut!

[CyanDimitrik]

"When I say get out of the corner, get out of the corner!"

"I'm not a trained seal!"

"What- what does- OSHIRO!," fumes the referee as Katsumi brushes off the official's concerns over her behavior. "I'm warning you!"

Katsumi raises her hands and wags her fingers to pantomime the referee gabbing endlessly at her. Pure disrespect. And when she turns to continue her onslaught upon her downed opponent, she instead finds a hand reaching out with fingers half-curled already. And there it is. At full-mast, a middle finger raised in pure defiance of the Punk Princess and her desire to stamp out her remaining embers. And Katsumi's heart skips a beat. It's difficult to explain what happens with that display; there's familiarity in it, of course. But also respect. That poised finger, in light of all the punishment and pain Katsumi has wrought upon her, hits such a harmonious chord in her. She likes this girl.

She still has to break her, though.

Katsumi grabs that middle finger and gives it a twist. Not too hard! She isn't looking to sprain, dislocate, or break any digits! She is, however, looking to control her with pain, and she just happened to volunteer a finger for the task. Pulling on it, she attempts to haul Chiyo up to her her feet before slinging her arm over her shoulder. Katsumi's other arm hooks low, hoisting her leg to pull the girl's inner-thigh up against her hip. It's a tight embrace, but one that only lasts a moment as Katsumi rears back, pulling on the leg and shoulder with a pump of her knees to hurl her behind herself in an exploder suplex, aiming more for the middle of the ring!

[PuroQueen]

The defiant middle finger stood unfiltered, sending a wave of shock throughout the crowd. Chiyo had always been one to stand up for herself, but this time felt special. She was beaten and battered, yet she had found the strength to show Katsumi that she still had plenty of fight left in her, and better yet, to do it with a smile. Her lips curled up ever so slightly as she witnessed her opponent's reactions: Katsumi was taken aback by the gesture, a flicker of respect briefly showing on her face. But it didn't last long.

As Katsumi grabbed her finger and gave it a twist, Chiyo winced in pain. She was lifted up and slung over Katsumi's shoulder, her leg hoisted up against her hip. Chiyo could feel Katsumi's hot breath on her back, and by the time she deduced what was coming next, it was already too late. The audience was on the edge of their seats as Katsumi reared back, and with a pump of her knees, she hurled Chiyo behind her!

Only two sensations occupied Chiyo's mind: one of weightlessness and the other of terror. Her body was completely at the mercy of Katsumi's strength and control, and she knew that there was nothing she could do to stop the suplex from happening. She could feel the muscles in her back and legs tensing up, preparing for impact. In a split second, she hurtled through the air, flipping over Katsumi's frame! Her body crashed landed, bounced upwards, and flipped over once more into a helpless heap in the center of the ring.

She lay there for a moment, hand clutching her back with mouth agape, and no air getting in and no scream coming out. She knew that she had to get up, to fight back, but every muscle in her body was screaming at her to stay down. She slowly pushed herself up to her knees, her head spinning as she looked around the ring. Katsumi was already close, taunting her with those beady green eyes. Chiyo gritted her teeth, trying to will her body to move, but it was no use.

She collapsed back onto the mat, her body spasming in pain. The crowd was roaring, and Chiyo could hear their chants ringing in her ears. She knew that she had to keep fighting, that she couldn't let Katsumi beat her this badly!

[CyanDimitrik]

Katsumi hit her back at the completion of the devastating suplex, but her fall? Much more controlled. Much more measured. Chiyo, on the other hand... that girl got to feel everything. And by design, it would not be pleasant. That rush of adrenaline is still pumping through her veins, electrifying her nerves. She curls back onto her shoulders and kips up to her boots in a single, smooth display of acrobatic finesse, and completes the movement with a girlish, perky curling of her fingers to form a heart shape out at the crowd.

It is completely facetious. She knows whose side the majority are still on. But that gesture, with that wickedly confident smile, is entirely on brand for the Punk Princess.

She turns in time to see Chiyo struggle to her knees. Her posture lowers, the smile spreading to true Grinchian levels of malicious intent. She takes off in full sprint towards her vulnerable opponent, loping strides making short work of the distance between them. Her right leg draws back, chambered to deliver a hellacious whip of a kick to the back of her head-- only Chiyo collapses, the kick not firing off. She sets her boot back down to the mat, lips pursed in sulky moue. Her head tilts, looking down at the twitching form of her foe, taking it in.

...she's not going too hard, is she? Like, for reals?

She paws a few sweat-slickened bangs away from her eyes.

She's used to hurting people in the ring, it's kind of the name of the game. But... she'd let her know if it were too much. Right? Vicious and dead-set on winning tonight, for sure, but a body communicates non-verbally, especially in a full contact sport. And doubly so, in a grappling sport. Katsumi can be in control, here. She can crank and ratchet up pain without injuring her. But has it come to that?

Mildly conflicted, Katsumi's bottom lip finds its way between her teeth again.

No. No, Chiyo's been defiant. She deserves the full ride. But if she needs out, she can control that. And in a way that'd be satisfying to her, and the audience. Almost a win for everyone. Everyone except Chiyo.

Katsumi drops to her knees and seizes the girl by the shoulder to roll her over onto her stomach. She then swings herself over her back, scissoring her thighs around Chiyo's left bicep, then leaning her waist down across her back. She hooks Chiyo's right arm behind her back to secure that limb as well. And finally, her hands link together, fingers interweaving beneath her chin. She gives the girl a couple seconds to breathe, then rears back sharply, legs curling. The shoulderblades are compressed inwards, her spine arched, her neck strained, three points of pressure and pain all at once in the double underhook chinlock! Sometimes referred to as the Rings of Saturn. But with the Punk Princess, it's known as the Yokaidzume signature submission hold!

"SCREAM FOR ME!"